#really wish I could have included the Christmas lights (which I am also now oddly fixated on licking) but I was aiming for summer

[mr-snailman]

/ just call me angel of the morning, angel

so it’s been a rough month! but @truelovedetective’s amazing fics have gotten me through so many bad nights. what can I say, visions of country domesticity and Old Men In Love have me in a chokehold. I wanted to draw something to express how absolutely fucking nuts this epic romance makes me.

read the fic that inspired this here. that’s an order.

[shieldedbythunder]

9 &/or 16 please <3 Either way, your drabbles are always enjoyable.

Thanks so much, Stormy! For the prompts, and for being so patient <3 I really enjoyed writing these! Both of these can also be found on my ao3 account :)

9. You took all the pillows, so I’m using you as one.”

i’ll get by with a little help from my friends

“Alright,” Natasha says briskly, “you need anything, just give JARVIS a call, okay?” An authoritative tap to his shoulder tells Steve to raise himself up long enough for her to fluff the pillows up a little.

“Is all this really necessary?” Steve grumbles, letting himself fall back once she’s done. Scowling at the thick, white cast that entombs his left leg, propped up on an extra two pillows, like it’s done him a personal wrong. Which, in some ways, it certainly has. “I’m probably gonna be fine by tomorrow.”

One lucky hit. One lousy, lucky hit, he thinks to himself irritably, and he’s out of commission. He’s going to kick the crap out of Batroc the next time they cross paths. Or maybe return the favour; see how he likes an iron girder pinning down his leg.

“Well, you heard the doc’s orders.” The innocent, sympathetic look Natasha sends his way would almost be believable, if it weren’t for the telltale gleam in her eye; she’s loving every moment of his sulking. “Let the serum do its thing with the broken bone, and help it along as much as we can. Which means plenty of bedrest, no negotiations.”

“Yeah, yeah… I guess,” he mutters darkly. With a sigh, he lets himself sink back into the bed properly, willing the knot between his shoulders to ease out a little. “Listen, thanks for the help, you didn’t have to.” General irritation aside, he’s genuinely grateful. Natasha looks just about as exhausted as he feels, and yet she’d never left his side, from their evacuation in the field to the medbay and back up to his room; just as stubborn and loyal a trooper as himself.

“No problem. You sure you don’t want anything else?” Her job done, Natasha hovers by the door, hands on her hips as she gives him one last once-over. “The others should be back soon, so I’ve gotta head to the debrief, but some of us can stop by afterwards if you want.” Even with the lingering traces of mirth, her eyes are as shrewd as ever, head cocked as she watches him carefully.

“Naw… it’s okay,” he says, managing a smile. “It’s been a rough day, you guys look after yourselves. The last thing you need is baby-sitting duties. Really, I’ll be fine.”

And he will be fine, he tells himself as Natasha leaves with one last inscrutable look, her footsteps quickly fading away. It’s not the end of the world, just a day or two of bedrest at most. Nothing to make a fuss about.

It’s just… it all feels horribly familiar. The long hours cooped up in bed, days at a time during his worst spells. At the very least, all he has to worry about is boredom, rather than how every rattling breath tightens up his lungs that little bit more. The helplessness, an old, distant, but never forgotten chill gnawing at his stomach. It seems even his new body and all its wonders could only stave it off for so long.

On that thought, he exhales sharply through his nose as he shuts his eyes; wallowing in self-pity won’t make his leg heal any faster. He just needs to rest up and let his body take care of itself, like any sensible soldier. Sleep takes a while to come, but when it does, it’s mercifully deep and dreamless.

***

He doesn’t know how long he passes in fitful slumber. But the first thing that registers as consciousness slowly creeps back in is how dry his throat is. The second is the feeling of something warm and heavy resting against his collarbone. And the third is a deep, familiar voice close by, words pitched soft and soothingly low. His parched throat aside, it’s an oddly comfortable situation to wake up to.

His eyes cracking open, Steve shifts around enough to get a look at his bunkmate. “Thor?” he croaks out, unable to manage any better between the thirst and lingering grogginess. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, good, you’re awake!” Thor says lightly. Perfectly nonchalant as he sets down his book, reaching over to the bedside table to pass him a glass of water. Like this is just another Tuesday evening for them. “I should have thought that was obvious - you took all the pillows, so I’m using you as one. Speaking of which, would you mind holding still? I’ve just gotten comfortable.”

“No, I mean�� what are you doing here?” Gratefully accepting the offered glass, Steve takes stock of his surroundings between gulps. He’s been out a while from the looks of it; it’s late afternoon by now, the sun low in the sky and bathing the room in bright golds and ambers. Casual in an old hoodie and jeans, Thor’s got his legs stretched across the empty side of the bed, as perfectly at ease as ever.

“Keeping you company.” Twisting himself around, Thor props himself up on one arm to give him a knowing look. “I know inactivity isn’t one of your stronger suits, so I thought you might like some distraction. And I talked to Tony, he’s arranging a movie night for you, so you can expect a full house tonight.”

“Thor…” Steve runs a hand through his hair, equal parts touched and exasperated. “I appreciate the thought, but you really don’t have to-”

“I know, I know I don’t have to. But… I still want to.” His smile losing its sardonic edge, Thor leans in a little closer. “Your first thought is always for others, for what they need before you. And…” He hesitates before laying one hand over Steve’s, squeezing it ever so gently. “I was worried for you, after your injury. Will you just… let me make sure you’re taken care of?”

… well. The prospect does sound inviting, delivered with such achingly heartfelt words. And with those soft, earnest blue eyes trained on him so beseechingly, Steve would defy anyone to resist. “... are you sure?” he asks, hedging even as his resolve crumbles. “I mean, Buck’ll tell ya, I get pretty crabby when I’m stuck in bed.”

In lieu of answering, Thor retrieves his book after a moment’s thought, smiling to himself as he finds his place again. “How features are abroad, I am skill-less,” he reads softly, the words almost musical in his smooth baritone. ”But, by my modesty, the jewel of my dower, I would not wish any companion in the world but you, nor can imagination form a shape besides yourself to like of.” His eyes are fond when he lowers the book again to look at Steve, with just a hint of amusement. “Does that answer your question?”

Ducking his head, Steve makes no effort to hold back his smile, even as his cheeks heat up. “You’re a real sap sometimes, you know that?”

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m your sap, isn’t it?” Thor chuckles, leaning in close to press a kiss to his forehead. Honestly, with this kind of bedside manner, he could grow to like mandatory bedrest.

“Will you keep reading?” Steve asks, letting his eyes fall shut again as Thor settles back into place against him. “Just ‘til the others get here?”

“Anything you want, love. Now, then,” Thor murmurs, licking one fingertip to turn the page, “where were we… ah, yes, let’s see what Ferdinand has to say to that…”

~~~~~

16. “Can you please just hold me?” (This one’s more inspired by the prompt, rather than including it word for word)

just a little change, small to say the least

If there’s one thing Thor’s come to appreciate in his time on Earth, it’s the concept of central heating.

It’s nearly a week now since Manhattan woke to find itself blanketed in the first snow of winter, with little respite since. Just beyond the tower windows, a whirling cloud of white engulfs the city, the reds and golds of Christmas lights twinkling intermittently through the haze. And of course, with the snow and the driving wind comes the resulting drop in temperatures. Not quite on par with Johtunheim, but still enough to steal right down to the bone, even through the thick layers they pile on whenever one of them feels brave enough to venture out on foot.

And yet, thanks to JARVIS and various other innovations of Midgard’s technology, the temperature within the tower walls remains at a pleasantly mild warmth. Enough so that he can comfortably stand stark naked in one of Tony’s bathrooms, all cool chrome and marble tiling, without so much as a shiver.

Not that he isn’t capable of generating his own heat under the right circumstances, Thor thinks to himself with just a touch of self-satisfaction. All the same, the wet washcloth he presses to his brow is a welcome balm, drawing out a sigh of relief at the bracing damp. Moving quickly, he gives his torso a thorough wipe down before running the cloth under the cold tap again, giving himself a moment to catch his breath. To savour the warm, syrupy drowsiness, all the pleasant little aches he’s accumulated over the evening.

Strolling back out into the bedroom, a smirk tugs at the corner of his lips at the sight of the figure still sprawled across the bed. “Comfortable, are we?” he asks, leaning against the door as he takes a moment to admire his handiwork.

Tangled in the rumpled sheets with one arm thrown over his eyes, his spent cock still half hard as it lolls in the groove of his hip, Steve looks every inch the cat who just got the cream. “Just give me a minute,” he murmurs, dreamy and languid as he stretches out with a groan of satisfaction. A far cry from the hoarse, desperate pleas for more he’d filled the room with just a few minutes ago, almost loud enough to drown out the slap of skin on skin. “Almost got the feeling back in my legs.”

Thor chuckles, allowing himself just a little smugness as he settles back down on the bed, washcloth in hand. “Here, let me,” he says, propping himself up on one elbow. With slow, sweeping movements, he wipes down the mess of their coupling, starting from Steve’s chest before gently working his way downwards to his ass. Watching the muscles shift and relax in response to the sudden cold, a trail of goosebumps erupting across the miles of pale flesh in his wake.

The sight would be enough to tempt a saint. Gods know it’s been enough for Thor, time and again.

Humming softly with satisfaction, Steve finally shifts his arm enough to look at Thor properly. Traces of his earlier flushed state linger, eyes half-lidded and hazy against the rosiness in his cheeks. His lips still slick and swollen red from the few frantic minutes he’d spent sucking Thor off, his fingers an iron grip digging into Thor’s hips as he’d fucked into that mouth, sinfully hot and wet, and gasped for Steve to touch himself. Thoroughly wrecked and utterly gorgeous, and a curl of heat reignites in Thor’s belly at the knowledge that it’s his doing. That only he gets to see their captain like this, touch him like this.

“Thanks.” Steve’s voice breaks him out of his thoughts, and there’s something inscrutable behind his satiated smile when their eyes meet again. “You don’t have to do all that, you know.”

“Well, I do owe you one for that rescue in Florence last week,” Thor quips, smiling at the chuckle the remark pulls from Steve. “But, really… it’s no trouble”. Not for you. He leaves the words unspoken, resting on the tip of his tongue even as his heart beats a little faster at the thought. But the quiet remains easy and companionable as he finishes his work, Steve’s eyes bright with mirth when he lets himself fall back on the mattress with a long sigh. Savouring the warmth radiating from the body next to him.

It’s one of his favourite parts of their trysts, these little silences as they allow themselves to just be in each other’s company. No world-threatening dangers, no responsibilities beyond the door. Just the two of them, sated and content.  A respite he’s always sorry to see come to an end.

As if in response to his thoughts, a jaw-cracking yawn swells up from deep in his chest; a reminder of the late hour, and all their exertions on top of it. “Well,” he sighs, heaving himself up off the bed, “I think that’s my cue to leave.” He hunkers down, even as his weary limbs protest at the effort, sorting through the scattered trail of clothing for what’s his.

“... does it have to be?”

Shaking his head, Thor grins to himself as he locates his underwear under the bed. “Don’t tempt me,” he chuckles, straightening up and casting an amused look back at the bed.

But Steve doesn’t return the smile, his expression thoughtful as he regards Thor. As if carefully measuring his next words. “I mean… it’s already late enough. You could stay, if you want.” He gestures towards the empty space next to him, watching Thor with careful, questioning eyes.

… oh.

It’s not an unpleasant thought. That much, Thor can parse out from the tangle of emotions the request sets off. But since they began this… whatever this is they share, there’s never been any expectation. Just an hour or two of pleasure and stress release between two friends, nothing more. And there’s something to be said for not upsetting the balance on a good arrangement.

It would be simple, to take the easy out Steve’s offered and be on his way. To let things go on as they have for the past few months. Just friends and teammates who occasionally fall into bed together whenever one or both of them need a good, hard fuck. Who always enjoy one another’s company, whether in sex or laughter or comfortable silences. Who set each other’s hearts racing with the merest glance or smile. Just friends.

So, all things considered… there’s really only one answer he can give.

“That… sounds nice. Thanks.” Even with his mouth dry, the words come as naturally as breathing. And though he tries to school his features, the sight of Steve ducking his head as he turns pink right to his ears sets an immense warmth surging in Thor’s chest.

Not that it quite assuages the hesitance he feels as he climbs back into the bed, eyes on Steve for any sign to withdraw or slow down. This isn’t new territory for him, or for Steve, possibly. But it is for them.

If nothing else, he clearly isn’t alone in his apprehension; Steve clears his throat awkwardly, eyes raised to the ceiling as they fix the covers. “Uh, JARVIS, could you get the lights please?”

“Of course, Captain Rogers. Sleep well,” JARVIS answers, smooth and discreet as the lights dim, until only a faint glow from the streets and snowfall outside remain. Leaving the two of them lying on opposite sides of the bed in near total darkness, a prickly, unsure silence stretching between them. The glint of Steve’s eyes is barely visible in the shadows as they watch each other. Waiting for someone to make the first move.

The spell is broken when Steve exhales sharply through his nose with exasperation before scooting in closer, and Thor has to bite back a laugh; leave it to Steve to step up first and take a dilemma by the horns. Throwing one arm across Thor’s chest, Steve settles himself along his right side, the crown of his head tucked neatly under Thor’s chin as he lays it down on his shoulder. Spurred on by the show of sheer stubborn confidence, Thor lets his arm curl around Steve’s back, his hand resting at the base of his spine. Noting how nicely they fit together, a thought that sends an odd little flutter through his stomach. Not an unpleasant one, though - quite the opposite.

“You okay?” There’s a familiar ring of the steadfast captain to Steve’s question, always checking in on his men. But it doesn’t quite mask the uncertainty of a man with his heart laid bare.

“Yeah, just…” He huffs out through his nose, smiling up at the shadows the snowfall sends dancing across the ceiling. “Trying to figure out why we haven’t been doing this part all along.” He strokes his hand up the length of Steve’s back, his palm spread broad and flat to his spine, and savours the shiver of pleasure that runs through Steve’s body. All of a sudden, he doubts he’s going to be using his own bed very much after tonight. Not alone, anyway.

“Well,” Steve finally answers, and Thor can hear the smile of relief in his voice, warm and content as the arm across his chest curls around him a touch more securely. Pulling them that little bit closer together. “We’ll just have to make up for lost time, won’t we?”

[rambles-fairy]

Day 1 (I guess?) of my holiday – assuming you don’t count the weekend or the day I ended up working through the evening. Oddly, the day I had to do some work, I actually felt a bit less lost at sea. I was doing a task which I really enjoy though – I was translating medical language into patient friendly language. For some reason, I think it weirdly soothing.

I can’t shake this horrible anxiety, and I keep feeling like I am wasting my holiday time by not doing enough. I feel like everyone else is so productive. I even felt really nervous booting up my laptop to write. But… journaling helps, even when it doesn’t feel like it – especially when I face up to things I don’t want to face up – painful, awkward or shameful things.

So. What did I do today?

I woke up and dusted and vacuumed, like usual. I hate those jobs, so getting them out of the way in the morning, before I shower, means I am more likely to actually do it.

I ordered food from Pret, because I fancied some sandwiches and am running low on food, but shops are crazy just before Christmas. My sisters present never arrived, presumably because the Royal Mail service is super delayed. Either than or it is just lost – I hope it is late, not lost though. But that means that if it still is not here by tomorrow evening, I need to get another gift for my sister, in time for Friday. My plan is to just get some gin or baileys or similar.

The sandwiches I got were tuna and cucumber (my favourite), smoked salmon and cream cheese and chicken. I also got a chocolate croissant, a cinnamon pastry and a pain aux raisin, to go with them. I have been already shifting my natural sleeping patterns to what they are when I am not working (which is almost nocturnal!!) so I am having breakfast around 1pm , lunch around 5pm and dinner around 9pm, because I am going to sleep around 1-2am.

I watched the sequel to After. I didn’t like it as much as After, although the main blokes acting was a bit better (except the bit where he yells “Trevor!”. I felt more sorry for him, in this film too – everyone kept telling him that he was awful and toxic and a bad person, and he wasn’t doing anything really wrong. He had a bit of a temper issue but he was trying.

I am watching the Blue Exorcist film at the moment. One of my favourite films of all time – it is so ridiculously beautiful; the animation is so detailed and carefully done, and the festival scenes are gorgeous. The story is so sad and lovely too – about a demon child who wants everyone to be happy, so he steals their memories of anything painful, or of their responsibilities, without realising that that is what makes people human. I also love the more mundane life elements that are featured, which is a common theme in anime – cooking and homework and bath scenes all become something really soothing and fun to experience. I also love how kind Rin is.

I played more Tomb Raider legend. I finished the England portion, defeating the hydra type creature boss, which was a proper nightmare to defeat. I love Tomb Raider Legend, it might be my favourite Tomb Raider game, although I loved the new ones, I found them a bit too hard. I am not sure I could have played them if my ex hadn’t been around to do the tricky parts. The next person I fall in love with, I hope they like computer games, because I love watching people play them, and I like to have someone better than me at them, to help me with the parts I can’t do.

Maybe I need a new list of “what I want” now that me and M have broken up? What else did I do? I started re-reading China Rich Girlfriend. I watched Crazy Rich Asians again the other day, and it made me want to pick the books up again. I only got maybe a chapter or so in though. I love those books. 

I also read a good chunk of October Daye book 11, which is about October’s sister who was lost while searching for Oberon, father of all the fae. October’s mother is a total psychopath pureblood fae, and she steals October’s fiancé to force October to search for August, who is also an awful pureblood, but a slightly less psychopathic version. October travels with her stepfather, Simon, who is actually a good guy but he spent a hundred years doing evil to try and find August. I got to the part where October hands August back, and her mother is laughing, saying that she intends to keep Octobers fiancé anyway, but it got too dark to keep reading. The kindle versions ran out at book 10, so I had to get the physical copies of books 11 and 12 (and I guess 13 when I get there).

I listened to some more Forged, by Benedict Jacka. I love it, it is book 10 or 11 in the Verus series, I can’t remember which. I think 11. Alex is currently trying to organise a cease fire with the Light Council, with the help of Anne. I kind of have a strange feeling that either Alex or Anne or both won’t survive the series. I don’t know why but that is just the vibe I keep getting. This is the penultimate book of the series, so I guess we will find out in the next couple of years.

So, was my day good enough? Why do I feel so worried? I mean, what would a good day even look like. I have a feeling that nothing I do would be good enough, right now, to make the feeling go away. I am listening to Amsterdam by Daughter, which is such a beautiful song. The band always makes me think a bit of E. I also keep getting horrendous stomach pains, from the anxiety and fear. All I can do is repeat the same things as usual – that only right this moment matters, that I will have the strength to deal with any pain in the future, when it comes, that there is no point in feeling pain and sadness before your time – you will feel it anyway, so why feel it twice? So why do I feel like I am being split in two? I want to be kinder. I want to be kinder. I always want to be kinder. Radical kindness. Because sometimes I feel like life is too short for anything else – who cares if someone is rude, or if you have a bad day, because life is short and kindness can make things better for everyone. I wish the pain would go away. I know that it gets worse when I don’t accept my life and myself the way I am, the way it is, and that includes the pain. The more I push at it, and reject it, the worse it feels, settling over me like waves of nausea and cramping. Often the best way for me to live is to try and not think. Or maybe to only think when I write, so that it is on the page and not haunting my brain like thick grey fog.

[the-apocryphal-one]

@tsumitarai

okay see there are really twelve days of Christmas, so I can still say “Merry Christmas” and be totally correct. so Merry Christmas, I’m your secret santa! Hope you enjoy!

Mistletoe

The party was well in swing, Chiaki noted happily. She’d worked hard with their teacher to set it up, and it had paid off; sparkling decorations hung from the ceiling, fake snow covered the ground, and a tree stood proud in the center of the room. The table was covered with a festive tablecloth and many seasonal dishes, which Owari-san and Togami-kun were tearing through at an impossible pace. Hanamura-kun was lurking under a sprig of mistletoe, which had a notable empty circle around it; surely that was the only reason Soda-kun wasn’t nearby, hoping to steal a kiss from Sonia-san. Instead he was laughing with Komaeda-kun, who had finally joined in after Chiaki’s gentle encouragement. Everyone was having fun.

As she turned to refill her punch, she spotted a solitary, dark figure and bit her lip.

Well, almost everyone.

It was great that Kamukura-kun had come of his own free will, really. The words she’d said when she’d first seen him enter the party resurfaced. “We spent three years as classmates… There’s no way nothing changed in that time.”

She’d meant that. And she genuinely believed that; even if he wasn’t talking to anyone, the proof was right before her eyes. So she was happy, really. She just…

She just wished he was enjoying himself too.

When it came to first meetings, theirs wasn’t anything special. He just happened to sit beside her in class. And even though she was always absorbed in her games, she’d noticed he didn’t have anyone to talk to or had anything fun to do. She’d vaguely remembered him being introduced as talent itself, so she’d thought maybe they could connect over sharing Ultimate Gamer.

That first match, which ended in a resounding loss for her, turned into repeated matches. Somewhere along the line, she ended up voted for as class rep; pleasantly, Kamukura-kun had voiced his agreement, rather than dismissing with ‘it makes no difference to me’.

For some reason, his approval—if it could be called that—had felt better than the others’. Special.

Huh?! What am I thinking…?

She shook the odd thought away, like it was a leaf caught in her hair, and continued on her trip down memory lane. While the circumstances in which she met Kamukura-kun weren’t anything to write home about, and even if he was surly and aloof all the time, she’d still come to value their friendship. He was almost painfully honest and could usually solve a problem within a few moments of being presented with it. He was also one of the few calm souls in their class, which made him a reliable helper.

If only there was some way to make sure he had fun, too.

Well…! Nothing would change if she just stood her and wished…! Nodding firmly, Chiaki made her way to Kamukura-kun’s spot in the corner, paying no mind to the mistletoe above them. His head turned a fraction towards her, blank red eyes meeting her determined pink.

“Are you having fun, Kamukura-kun?” she asked brightly.

“No.”

Ow. He didn’t even try to be indirect… “Is it something with the party that’s wrong?” she tried, fingers squeezing her cup of juice a tad too tightly. The plastic red cup crumpled a little at the thought that somehow, she’d failed to cater to his tastes. “I tried including a lot of different activities and foods, so there’d be something for everyone.”

“No. …It is the people,” he said finally, when she kept looking at him expectantly.

“Our classmates?”

“They speak of pointless, boring things…carry out the same tired actions… They’re predictable. Interacting with them is a waste of my time.”

Chiaki frowned, the need to defend her friends welling up. “They’re not—”

He closed his eyes. “Right now, Soda is dismayed about Sonia, who is being entertained by Tanaka’s hamsters. Pekoyama is pretending not to watch Kuzuryu as she talks photography with Koizumi. Mioda is rambling about some inane notion or other to Tsumiki, and Hanamura is attempting to sneak under the mistletoe with us.”

“Huh?” Chiaki turned to indeed see the chef inching closer. Instead of looking shamed at being caught in the act, he rubbed his chin and flashed his pearly whites.

“Why hello there, Nanami-san! Fancy meeting here, like this. The snow softly falling outside...the lights, dimming…the mistletoe hanging overhead…it’s quite a romantic atmosphere, don’t you think?”

She gave him a polite smile, stepping backwards. Oops—too far, she thought as she hit Kamukura-kun’s chest with a soft bump. “My romance route is locked, Hanamura-kun.”

“Under normal circumstances, perhaps, but mistletoe is a special case, isn’t it? One could say it’s a key item for—”

“You are an eyesore,” Kamukura-kun interrupted, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Leave.”

Undeterred, Hanamura-kun spun around to face her friend. “Oh? How about you, Kamukura-kun? A kiss from a dark, mysterious man would be—”

“Leave.”

Some kind of aura seemed to emanate from the long-haired boy, then. The temperature dropped, and his red eyes glinted. Despite herself, Chiaki shivered. Hanamura-kun squeaked. “Leaving!”

Kamukura-kun turned back to her as the chef scrambled away. “As I said,” he repeated, aura dissipating, “they are predictable. Thus, they are boring.”

That…was scary. But Chiaki knew he wasn’t. Or, well, not in the sense she felt afraid in his presence. Hanamura-kun was a friend, but sometimes he didn’t know when to accept a ‘no’. And it was good, wasn’t it, that Kamukura-kun was getting angry or irritated? Better than bland apathy. And so, even as she gently countered his words, Chiaki smiled. “Sure, people are creatures of habit—every day I play my games, but that’s not all there is to me. And what you see from our classmates isn’t all there is to them. If you give them a chance, I’m sure they’d surprise you.”

“I doubt they would.”

Her face fell. Her words had been brushed off, just like that; were they always going to be completely ineffectual? No matter how much time she spent with Kamukura-kun, it seemed like she couldn’t do a thing to help him.

No matter how much time…

If he feels no one would surprise him even if he gave them a chance, then, what about…

Even that thought, incomplete as it was, sent an oddly painful pang through her. Before she could stop herself, Chiaki blurted out, “Do I bore you?”

He looked at her, and maybe it was just Chiaki’s imagination, but some of the hardness in his face—the thin line of his mouth, the permanent bored look—seemed to soften a bit. “…No. Your presence is…not a dull as the others’.”

A warm, fuzzy feeling bloomed in her heart. Her smile returned, brighter than before. “I see…I’m glad, then.”

And with that, Chiaki joined him in leaning against the wall and observing the party. Perhaps she should have pushed the subject further, but she didn’t really want to argue. Just bask in the glow of his kind-of compliment, and the presence of her friends, and treasure this moment while it lasted. Graduation was coming soon, so…she definitely had to enjoy the time they still had.

But still…why was Kamukura-kun under the mistletoe? He definitely wasn’t the type to want kisses…maybe he just hadn’t cared that it was over him, as long as he was on the party’s fringes?

Involuntarily, her eyes darted up to the mistletoe that still hung over his head. They lingered.

Surprises, huh?

…No. No way. Don’t think about it, Nanami. It’s too bold. You don’t like him like that—and even if you did, he doesn’t like you like that. You’ll lose all your progress on his social link.

Well, if he asks, you can always say it’s thanks for being here, right? Right! Not everything has to be romantic.

That should have ended her little self-argument, except now the thought of romance and Kamukura-kun was drifting around her head and just not going away. Her face felt warm and hot.

Stop thinking about it too much. It’s just a friendly, grateful peck.

Before she could keep second-guessing herself, Chiaki darted forward and pressed her lips to his cheek. His skin was warm and smooth; contact only lasted a second, but that brief sensation sent her heart racing.

Maybe she should reconsider what her feelings for Kamukura-kun were, exactly.

For a moment he didn’t even acknowledge what she’d done, and a vice squeezed her chest—whether in relief or irritation, she couldn’t say. Then he slowly turned his head towards her. “What was that?”

Did it work? I can’t tell. “A kiss.”

“I am aware. Why did you kiss me?”

“Well, y’know…” Unconsciously, her hand crept into her skirt pocket, wrapping around the Game Girl Advance there. The familiar shape and texture soothed her, curbed some of the nervousness. “As thanks for being my friend, and coming to the party, and everything.”

“I already told you, I predicted Usami would fetch me if I did not come. I simply bypassed that annoyance.”

“But you didn’t have to stay,”she pointed out, and he was silent for a moment.

“Perhaps,” he finally acquiesced, and Chiaki smiled.

[relaxedreptile]

Baby, It’s Cold Outside

A/N: Okay, so, my apologies.

This was requested maybe three months ago? But I am severely behind on fulfilling these requests from you guys. Slowly but surely, I will have them all finished so don't you worry.

Also, the original request for this wanted smut, but I am content with the way this went so I’m going to keep it the way it already is. Forgive me?

Stay warm.

“With the bridge closed and most, if not all,” the newscaster paused and let out a laugh that oddly reminded you of the Wizard of Oz, “of the roads closed, it doesn’t seem how anyone could find a way in or out of the city. “I don’t know, Catherine, I always keep a spare set of tennis racquets in my car. You think I could tie them to my shoes and make my way home?”

Catherine was cut off mid-laugh by your TV clicking off on its own accord, which elicited a loud groan from your mouth full of popcorn. You expected this much, so you used the light of your phone screen to act as a guide to your box of matches and off to your scented candles. You had searched your home for six of the biggest candles with scents that wouldn’t overwhelm your nose once they mixed throughout your home, but you supposed you couldn’t be too picky.

You had always loved the holidays. It was the perfect mix of exciting, high-powered activities and a relaxed stature throughout the city. While you were devastated your parent’s flight was cancelled due to this snowstorm that had also cancelled your night-in with Naruto on Hulu, you decided you could enjoy this night without technology. It’s not like this night was unplanned considering everyone had known about the storm a few days prior due to its enormous size and not very subtle footprint on whatever system meteorologists used to determine how fucked the holiday season would be. Hopefully reading by candlelight wasn’t going to permanently damage your eyes or something, you didn’t really have the money for that kind of thing at the moment.

You had finished lighting your candles and sat back on your couch, eyes following the lights and shadows as they danced across your walls in a waltz.

A sigh escaped your lips as you relaxed farther into your plush coach, deciding to sing along to a song that had been stuck in your head since November 1st.

“I really can’t stay.” A whiff of “ocean breeze” whizzed past your nose. “Get over that hold out.” This time it was “autumn leaves”. “Ah, but it’s cold outside.” Was that cinnamon? “Baby it’s cold, out-”

The sound of three soft, polite knocks on the door to your apartment startled you out of your harmonizing stupor, your legs forcing you out of your comfort zone and out onto the floor that had already begun to grow cold after a few minutes of your cheap heater switching off.

You wrapped your arms around yourself to retain the warm you had left and shuffled over to your door, sliding across the floor on your fuzzy socks.

“Oh, thank god.”

The man at your door greeted you with a smile that reminded you of the homemade moonshine your uncle used to make for special occasions, the way they warmed your body were way too similar.

“Hi,” you greeted your neighbor… Baekhyun. That was his name. “I’m so sorry to bother you, Y/N,” first name basis with your cute neighbor? Merry Christmas to you, “but I just ran home in that fucking blizzard out there and here I was, completely prepared to heat up some water for a bath on my stove for all I cared, until I realized that I left my keys back on my desk. At my office.” You thought that was all the explanation he needed to offer but Baekhyun interrupted you before you could invite him in.

“I hate to ask this of you so close to the holidays. For all I know you could have family with you, but I guess I have no other choice,” his laugh was short, but sweet. “I only need an hour or two I-”

“You can stay, it’s completely fine with me.” You opened your door wider, hoping it resembled a warm invitation. “Just don’t blow out any candles.”

Baekhyun offered another bigger smile, one that left sparks flying through your body and festering in your stomach.

With a smile like that, you wouldn’t have been able to deny him entry no matter the circumstances, so you were glad that you had met this man (and even his dog) before and were comfortable with him being in your home rather than ten feet across the hall.

Despite you living in this building for close to a year (and Baekhyun for one year more, as he told you when you first moved in), you and your cute neighbor hadn’t made it past small-talk and the only obscure facts you knew about the guy was the fact that he had a brother, had a passion for singing, and his dog’s name was Mongryong.

It was simultaneously better than nothing and enough for you to let him into your home, to allow him access to everything in your possession. Including you.

“I promise I’ll be out of your business as soon as the roads clear up and I can get back to the office, the landlord said he wouldn’t make it out onto the roads until they were plowed. I figured I should risk it myself.”

You nodded in response, not sure why he was repeating himself. It was the holidays, after all, it couldn’t hurt to be a little more giving. Lenient.

“I don’t exactly have a fire place you can hang out by, but I do have a gas stove if you want me to make us some hot chocolate?”

Baekhyun halted in peeling off his soaked socks (him and his dress shoes were not prepared for the snow) and nodded at you before asking if you had marshmallows.

“Whipped cream alright?” You answered with, already heading into your kitchen. “Yeah, yeah, that’s great. Thanks, Y/N.” “Any time, Baekhyun, what are neighbors for?” “I guess for coming in handy when dumbasses like me screw themselves over,” he joked, following far behind you.

A laugh escaped your lips. “Oh please, if I had work today and hadn’t stayed home, I probably would’ve done the same thing.” “Then we’d both be screwed,” Baekhyun pointed out, “but I’m sure we could figure something out. My coat is probably big enough for the both of us.” You were glad that your blush wasn’t visible in the candlelight. “With those shoulders of yours? I wouldn’t fit.”

You allowed yourself to speak with a flirty tone, hoping you hadn’t read his remark about the coat wrong.

“How about you sit between my legs and I wrap my arms around us?”

Okay, he was definitely flirting back.

“All this talk has me wishing I lost my keys as well,” you admitted, not even bothering to lie for the sake of flirting. “There’s always next year.”

You smiled and continued stirring the powder-water mixture, watching the tiny marshmallows that were included in the mix bob up and down in the pot.

The silence was a tad awkward, one wouldn’t lie, but it was to be expected with the relationship between you and your neighbor. Despite the lack of words, the feeling he brought into your home was comforting. Especially with the environment outside of your candlelit apartment being oh so cold and dark.

Baekhyun offered a thank you as he took the steaming mug of liquid from you, licking the edge of the rim as some of the whipped cream started to slip down the side. Your eyes followed the movement of his tongue.

Your lips closed around the edge of your own cup and willed the liquid to slide down your throat, welcoming the slight burn as it went down.

“This cup of hot chocolate is the most Christmassy thing I’ve done in years,” Baekhyun admitted, wrapping both hands around his mug. “I’m glad I had the honor of getting you into the Christmas spirit,” you joked, smiling at your neighbor incase he needed some comfort. “You’re expecting a sob story, I can tell.”

You ignored Baekhyun’s implication and took a rather long sip of your drink.

“Busy?” You guessed. Baekhyun’s nod was the saddest thing you had seen all day. “How about every year you set aside like, twenty minutes to come drink some hot chocolate with me? Completely on the house.”

The man in front of you scrunched his lips in thought, considering the offer you both knew he would say yes to.

“I’ll bring some marshmallows next time.”

“How many times, Baekhyun?” “Just three!” “Oh, I’m sorry, you only got arrested three-” “No building off of our secrets! You set that rule yourself.”

You bit down on your lip and shook your head, disappointed at the fact that your houseguest refused to elaborate on his criminal record.

“Come on, Y/N,” Baekhyun teased, “your turn.”

To ease your boredom, your neighbor had suggested playing what he called “girly slumber party games” to pass the time. You readily agreed, hoping for something racy like spin the bottle (even though that barely works out even when you have more than two people), but settled on truth or dare.

Once the two of you realized that wasn’t going to go anywhere, you suggested going back and forth between asking the person for a secret or a story, no questions asked and no further explanation needed. The two of you required secrets for such a long streak that it was now just a given that that was what the other player wanted from you.

Your body contorted into the “thinker” position, hoping to pull a smile or a giggle from the attractive man sitting opposite from you. Your actions rewarded you with both.

“I went to cotillion for three years.” “Cotillion? I don’t-” “It’s an American thing. It’s these classes over-bearing parents send their kids to so that they can learn how to be “proper”. Table manners, how to court, dancing-” “Why is dancing included in proper behavior?” “Slow-dancing. Waltz.”

Baekhyun seemed to be deep in thought about this, his eyes showing the inner battle deep in his mind.

You better get a good secret in return for further elaboration (even if it was on cotillion and not you).

“Show me.”

Your head snapped up to make eye contact with this beautiful man who continued to make your cheeks flush and the butterflies in your stomach flutter.

Baekhyun could see that you were a bit confused by his outburst, so he decided to confuse yo further by jumping to his feet and outstretching his hand in your direction.

You took his hand out of instinct and tried to remain as graceful as possible when you were yanked upwards and immediately towards your Christmas tree that was between your  favorite parts of your apartment, two floor-to-ceiling windows that allowed you and your guest a gorgeous view of the snow capped city below.

“You said you can dance, show me.” “I didn’t say I knew how, I just said that I learned.” “Well now I want to learn! Usually I would jump on YouTube and figure it out but since I can’t at the moment and you’re right here…” When Baekhyun realized you weren’t budging, he pursed his lips into a full blown pout and cocked his head to the side. “Please?”

You blamed the holidays for you acting so lenient towards this man.

You showed him where to put his hands on your body (each placement sending shivers down your completely covered spine) and explained the counts, repeating “one, two, three” for the first few rounds, smiling proudly when Baekhyun seemed to pick this up in no time.

Was it your expert teaching or did this guy have a better idea of this beforehand than he let on?

“All we need now is some music,” you decided, leaning to rest your head on your dancing partner’s shoulder, thinking of how your old instructor would have gasped at how improper said behavior was.

Your comment was met with a silence that was first interrupted by the deep vibration within Baekhyun’s chest.

“I really can’t stay.”

Silence.

“I’ve got to go away.”

Smile.

“This evening has been,” you sang in your current position. “Been hoping that you’d drop in,” Baekhyun continued. “So very nice.” “I’ll hold your hands, they’re just like ice.”

You couldn’t believe how stupid that sounded to you. No matter how much snow piled up outside, no matter how low the temperature dropped, you felt warm. You felt safe.

It’s cold outside, but you feel perfectly fine.

[lapsa-lapsa]

Rob James-Collier: Oh, You Handsome Devil!

As Downton Abbey's hot gay villain, Rob James-Collier finds love -- and redemption.

BY

AARON HICKLIN

THU, 2013-01-03 09:04

Photography by David Bailey

Styling by Julian Ganio

Last March, when The New Yorker’s Ian Crouch declared an “epidemic of Downton Abbey fever,” he wasn’t wrong. The show has been nothing short of a phenomenon, a runaway success for dowdy old PBS, far outpacing in ratings that other popular period drama, Mad Men. It’s a classic tale of love and fortune with a fundamental mystery at its core, namely: How can something this schlocky be this good? Maybe it has something to do with its formula, equal parts high class to high camp (yes, Dame Maggie Smith, we’re looking at you); or its bucolic English setting; or, more likely, its blatant appeal to our closeted hankering for a butler fully versed in the art of decanting vintage port. After all is said and done, who has not wished that they, too, could be in the position to declare, like the Dowager Countess with her imperious mix of disdain and perplexity, “What is a week-end?”

Indeed, what is a weekend without Downton Abbey to cozy up with on Sunday nights? And here it is, back again to keep winter from the door—season 3, and with it the Roaring Twenties to blow away the agony of war and the insult of rationing. Expect flappers and the Charleston, and a Marcel wave or two.

Let me come clean: I haven’t seen a preview of season 3 -- in my home that would be cheating; it’s what we still call appointment TV -- but I have it on great authority that this is the season in which that villainous gay footman-turned-valet, Thomas Barrow, experiences the tender love that his poor, neglected heart so craves and needs. It’s about time. His dalliance with the Duke of Crowborough in the opening episode of season 1 turned out to be a tease. He ended season 2 in the arms of the Dowager Countess, twirling around the dance floor at the Christmas party like a neuter content to spend his prime escorting ladies of a certain age to the ball.

We should have known that creator and writer Julian Fellowes would not disappoint. Season 3 is where it all changes for young Thomas. And for us, too. Although there clearly were gay men in Edwardian England, they’ve been in scant supply on television. There was, of course, Sebastian and Charles in Brideshead Revisited, whose “naughtiness [was] high on the catalogue of grave sins,” as Evelyn Waugh wrote, but they merely hinted at what happened when the lights were off. Thomas promises to go somewhat further. It’s what makes Downton Abbey feel, well, modern.

No one, of course, is more excited by this turn of events than Rob James-Collier, the actor who secured the role of Thomas with the understanding that it was a one-season deal. “My agent said, ‘Listen, you’ve got the part that everyone in town wants—he’s a villain, he’s a great role, the only bad thing is that he dies at the end of the first series,’ ” recalls James-Collier. But Thomas clicked with the audience, and his on-screen chemistry with his maid counterpart, O’Brien (a wonderfully surly Siobhan Finneran), was irresistible. “I gave it 110 percent, and after the first couple of episodes, Liz, the producer, came to me and said, ‘We want you to stay on. Will you?’ And I was, like, ‘Fuck, yeah.’ ”

We are in Bloomsbury, London, sitting in a tiny French patisserie hardly big enough to contain James-Collier’s boundless energy. When he walks in, he immediately begins by quoting lines from articles of mine that he’s found online. It’s discombobulating. Research is my job. At another point, he puts me on the phone with a friend summoned to serve as a character reference. I feel like a luckless audience member at a comedy show, plucked from the front row as a volunteer for a gag. When I accidentally insert a “Smith” into his surname (it’s that damn hyphenate), he is gleeful as hell. “Aaron has got my name wrong, and he’s now floundering, trying to think of it,” he dictates into my recorder.

That double-barreled name, incidentally, was not his choice. He grew up in Salford, near Manchester, as plain Rob Collier, and might have stayed that way had actors union Equity not intervened to avoid confusion with another Rob Collier. “I said, ‘Can I have Rob James Collier, and they said, ‘Yeah, if you hyphenate it,’ and I said, ‘Well, can I have Rob-James Collier?’ and they said -- and this is true -- ‘No, you have to hyphenate the James and the Collier.’ ” He wasn’t happy. In England, hyphenated surnames are for posh people. “I was, like, ‘That sounds like someone from the aristocracy, as if I’m being somebody I’m not.’ But they insisted,” he recalls ruefully. In Britain, still today, there’s little more disreputable than the man or woman who puts on the airs and graces of the upper class.

I went to school with boys like James-Collier. You probably did, too. They are the entertainers and comedians, who laugh at their own pratfalls. What they lack in confidence they make up for in banter. It’s no surprise to hear that James-Collier is the joker on set, and the one with the loudest mouth. “Most actors are really shy and insular creatures,” he explains. “I’ve just always been a dick.” He remembers his first day at acting class (he found it by consulting the Yellow Pages), and realizing that he’d liberated himself. “We were doing these warm-up exercises, running around doing crazy things with our voices, and, rather than feeling stupid, I just felt that I’d come home,” he says. He was working as a marketing assistant at the time, “listening to Pink Floyd, Dark Side of the Moon -- great album, bad album to listen to if you’re in a rut, ticking away the hours that make up a dull day.” Watching Ricky Gervais’s masterwork, The Office, compounded his sense of futility. “It was my office,” he says. “I thought, I can’t do this for the rest of my life, surely?”

Oddly, that is the same dilemma facing Thomas Barrow, shackled to servitude as a footman at Downton Abbey, always looking for an opportunity to elevate his station in life -- and failing. His pitiful efforts to establish a black market in rationed goods during season 2 spoke volumes about the limitations confronting Britain’s working class in the Edwardian era. It’s moments like those that save Downton Abbey from being merely an exercise in sumptuous costume porn.

If you grew up in Britain, as I did, the world of Downton Abbey is a familiar one, conjured in an endless parade of finely wrought television shows, which we send across the oceans like telegraphs from our gilded past. Some of them, like 1981’s 11-hour miniseries, Brideshead Revisited, which introduced Jeremy Irons to the world, or 1995’s six-episode serialization of Pride and Prejudice, which did the same for Colin Firth, strike gold. Few, however, receive quite the rapturous reception of Downton Abbey. The reason, perhaps, is fairly simple: Although Downton wears the clothes (and production values) of quality drama, it has the soul of a soap opera. As my boyfriend likes to say, it’s very efficient, meaning that things happen at lightning speed. Resolutions come thick and swift, which is all part of the pleasure.

Fellowes himself takes credit for modernizing the format by borrowing his style from U.S. shows like The West Wing, but it’s also that the concerns of the show are discernibly our concerns, albeit in Edwardian costume. For James-Collier, “Downton Abbey is a workplace like any other. You’re going to get cliques of people who don’t like each other -- Thomas and O’Brien versus Bates and Anna -- and you’re going to get people who really love doing their jobs and people who are bitter and feel they’re just a number. It’s about relationships in the workplace environment, and people can identify with that because the same problems and political conflicts you have in work today were relevant back then.”

Coincidentally or otherwise, almost all the actors who play servants in Downton Abbey got their start in English soap operas -- gritty exercises in social realism, fully rooted in working-class culture. The oldest of those shows, Coronation Street -- set in Manchester -- has run continuously for 52 years, and nurtured generations of acting talent. James-Collier arrived on the series in 2006, as  “loveable rogue” Liam Connor, and stayed for two years before deciding he wanted to take on a different kind of challenge.

“It’s a great, brilliant show, but you have to make a decision,” he says. “I’m not knocking anyone for going that way [of soap operas] -- you can get security, and God knows we need that, but I think you’re limited then in terms of your options as an actor.” After Coronation Street, he was out of work for 15 months, waiting for the right thing to come along. “I watched people who had left these kinds of shows and had seen what happened,” he says. “So I knew you had to literally put the shutters down and just pray and hope that something would come along, and when the wolves were near the door, Downton Abbey came.”

James-Collier has joked that his character’s sexuality became so muted in season 2 that he called up Fellowes and asked, “Am I still gay?” Yes, it turns out. In season 3, we get to see Thomas outed in a powerful sequence of episodes that James-Collier considers the best acting of his career. “It’s the series where we really comes to grips with Thomas’s sexuality and the impact being gay must have had on him, in Edwardian times,” he says. “If you’re including a gay character, there’s an onus and responsibility to at least show what the impact of the time will be on him, and of him on that time. Thankfully we’ve done that, and I’m so proud that I’ve been used to tell that tale.”

A confrontation between Thomas and the butler, Mr. Carson, proves to be a high point, and one that confers uncommon dignity on the footman. “It’s a lovely, beautiful moment,” says James-Collier, clearly delighted by the opportunity to redeem his character. “If you were gay in those times, the fact that you’re even functioning, how you’re not completely fucked up by that, is beyond me.”

Although not gay in real life, he says he has empathy for misfits and outsiders, perhaps because of his own atypical route to acting. Even now it’s clear that he can’t quite believe that he’s earned his place as an actor. He recalls sitting opposite Maggie Smith during the first read-through (“a proper pinch-yourself moment”) and feeling that everything out of his mouth sounded like wooden splinters. It can’t be easy playing the least lovable character on the show. When she arrived on set, guest star Shirley MacLaine greeted him with the words, “It’s you -- the evil one! Why are you so evil?” The answers, apparently, are all in season 3. “With O’Brien and Thomas, you’ve got these two forces, and it’s a kind of paradox -- they work for this great house that keeps them off the streets and from starving, and yet they absolutely despise the system they’re in, because there’s no other option,” he says. “In a weird way Thomas wants to bring down the system, but if he did he’d be putting himself out of a job and a home.”

As he was talking, I remembered something: My own grandmother, now 92, had started her working life “in service” as they say, at the age of 14, still a child herself. That would have been in the 1930s -- the same era as Julian Fellowes other big country–house hit, Gosford Park, for which he won a best original screenplay Oscar in 2002. At the time my grandmother went into service, her father was ill and her mother was struggling to hold things together. “It was an awful wrench to leave my sisters and brothers at home, but it was one less pair of shoes under the table,” she explains when I ask about her experiences. My grandmother, a country girl, didn’t work in the big house (as one of her sisters did), but for a doctor’s family, where she was excruciatingly lonely.

“I think that’s the reason I got married so young -- to get out of it,” she says. “I did all the cooking and all the cleaning, and had one half day off a week, and a whole day off once a month.”

“No weekends, then?” I ask.

“Oh, there were no weekends,” she says, conjuring Maggie Smith’s glorious bafflement in season 1. It is to Downton Abbey’s credit that this stark double meaning isn’t entirely lost on the audience, or that the disparity between those upstairs and those downstairs isn’t varnished into oblivion. It’s left to us to imagine how people of O’Brien’s resourcefulness or Thomas’s ambition would fare in our own age, but one thing’s certain—they wouldn’t be spending their weekends polishing the silver.

https://www.out.com/entertainment/television/2013/01/03/rob-james-collier-downton-abbey

[knightknightfriendo]

Merry Christmas to @nighttyger! I’m your Rhythm Thief Secret Santa, and I hope you like what I wrote for you!

The first time Raphael met Charlie, Private Eye and never a constable, he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to think of him. It was hard to be intimidated by someone shorter than himself that wielded a soccer ball as if it was an ultimate weapon, really.

The ball came flying out of nowhere, and it was pure instinct that kept Raphael from receiving a nasty hit to the face. As it was, the flip was probably unnecessary, but if he was going to dodge an unexpected projectile then he was going to do it with style. At first he suspected a game of sorts being played by someone nearby, but a quick scan of the area revealed no players.

“Was that on purpose?” He murmured, finally spotting a figure moving out from behind the tree. The boy that had appeared was shorter than Raphael- well, Phantom R at the moment- with blonde hair, blue eyes, and a confident walk that drove him right up to Raphael.

“You’ve got guts, Phantom R!” Were the first words out of his mouth, accusing tone so similar to that of the constables, and Raphael couldn’t interject with the witty remark he would’ve liked before the boy picked up the soccer ball and began to speak again.

“Trespassing in Constabulary HQ? I will apprehend you now, and prove my worth in the process.”

They were a solid few feet away from each other, and while the boy’s words amused him, he knew better than to underestimate an opponent. As logical as that sounded, however, he could hardly help throwing on something of a smirk.

“What’re you talking about? You don’t look like a constable to me.” And he really didn’t- the constables had their hats and blue uniforms, and this boy was dressed more stylishly, with a matching brown hat and coat- not to mention that Raphael was fairly sure constables had to be older than this. Granted, the boy didn’t seem far from Raphael’s age, but one didn’t exactly need to be a certain age to be a thief and dancer.

This seemed to be exactly the right thing to say for all the wrong reasons, because the boy scoffed and looked like Raphael had just told him the earth was flatter than a pancake.

“I would never be a constable!” And just a moment after, his expression was serious once more. “I am Charlie, Private eye. So, you come quietly, or do you require a penalty kick to the head?” The boy’s words- Charlie, Raphael would remember- were sharper now, and while he should have found it intimidating, Charlie’s words felt like a challenge. Phantom R’s eyes narrowed, and his response was deliberately delayed, gaze rising to meet Charlie’s eyes. Fondue only added to his effect, growling at the boy as if prepared for a fight.

“Is neither an option?”

Charlie’s response was almost as delayed, but with the full confidence from earlier.

“No! So I will choose for you!”

Charlie immediately rushed at him, soccer ball in on hand ready to be thrown, and Raphael found himself flipping through the air to avoid being tackled to the ground. His current rival reacted quickly though, and with seemingly no hesitance spun on his heel and flung the ball at Phantom R’s still flying form. Raphael couldn’t mask his surprise at his opponent’s  and it took instinct once more to twist his form out of the soccer ball’s way. That was when he grinned- this was going to be fun!

                        0                                           0                                           0                   

         The second time Raphael met Charlie, Private eye and always prepared, he did so with the knowledge that Charlie was Vergier’s son, and that bit of news couldn’t have made the second encounter more interesting if it tried. Then again, the next conversation also included a hang glider. It was all sorts of interesting already.

He’d just successfully acquired the Queen’s Pendant and escaped the constables through the roof of the Paris Opera house this time around. Gazing at the city below, he’d already begun a trademark grin- at least a little celebration of success was in order, wasn’t it?- when he heard a shout from above. But that was ridiculous, wasn’t it? He was already on the roof-

“I’ve been waiting for you, Phantom R!”

No- Raphael knew that voice! Both he and Fondue looked up, and he could hardly contain his surprise at the sight- high above and closing in fast on a hang glider was Charlie, who he now knew to be Charlie Vergier, son of the Inspector! The new news of his lineage might’ve been more of a shock upon seeing the boy again if it hadn’t been for the hang glider, really. The two hardly looked alike.

When Charlie jumped and flipped his way onto the ground, though, Phantom R pushed down any surprise or shock in favor of wit. That had seemed to work well so far, and he could hardly help a little sarcasm here and there. Still, Charlie won first words once more.

“With all the constables below,  I thought you might head for fresh air.”

His usual menacing look was in place, even with such an incredible view around them? Raphael could only feel slight pity, there. Some people just needed to stop and smell the roses once in a while, take a break! Those were just as important as catching famous art thieves. Actually, why dedicate so much time to catching art thieves if one didn’t stop to appreciate the art they were trying to save?

“And you had a hang glider ready? Are you always so well prepared?”

After the slightest pause, Phantom R just had to add a little more icing to the cake.

“On second thought, maybe you’re just obsessed with catching me, like your dad.”

The words had exactly the desired effect, with Charlie’s face taking on that same fiery expression from before, when Raphael had compared him to a constable.

“You leave my father out of this!”

But Raphael barely gave Charlie a chance to reply again, simply giving him another grin and tilt of his hat before speaking once more. I hate writers block

“Like to fly solo, eh? Too bad, because you’ll need an army to catch me!”

Charlie glowered at him, seemingly irritated by his arrogance. Was it really arrogance if it had already been proven often enough by the constabulary was the question, here. He was sure Fondue would agree.

“You won’t be talking so tough when you’re behind bars, mate.”

And with that, the battle begun once more.

                        0                                           0                                           0          

The third time Charlotte Vergier saw Phantom R, escape artist extraordinaire, was in a significantly more tame location and with significantly less robbery involved, though she almost spilled her tea. That would’ve been a disaster- she was wearing one of her few dresses, and she really did need those for off days and school days.

She’d had a terrible day already, actually. Failing to apprehend Phantom R the day before, at the Paris Opera, was already a blow to her pride. She’d been perfectly prepared, and he bested her yet again- and saved her right after, to boot! His arrogance would be his downfall someday, she was certain! After that, a fight with her father, and a half-day of storming through the streets of Paris until she reached the cafe.

Charlotte was about to take a sip from her tea, finally feeling relaxed, when a boy that seemed oddly familiar walked up to her table. He walked with an irritatingly recognizable confidence that, for some reason, did not remind her of anyone in particular. His face was partially hidden by a blue hat with a red stripe- again, familiar- and when he spoke it was familiar as well.

“Bonjour, Charlie. Is this seat taken?”

Charlie finally took that sip of tea, eyes still scanning him to figure out where she knew him from. It wasn’t until she focused on his face that she recognized him, and the shock threw her from her chair, knocking it back when she yelled.

“You! Y-Y-You’re Phantom R!”

Phantom R seemed delighted for just a moment by her revelation, before casually taking a seat as if nothing had happened. People had begun to stare, which prompted his ever present grin- she hated that thing!  One day he would be captured, and that pompous expression would disappear faster than he could say that line he always shouted to his dog- cheese it, Fondue, wasn’t it?

“Now, now- we wouldn’t want to disturb the other customers.”

Unfortunately, he had a point, and with a scowl she put down her tea to fix her chair. He spoke as she did so, chattering away like he had all the time in the world.

“I’m just as surprised as you are! I never thought that you’d look so good in a dress!”

Just like him to comment on the unimportant details. Charlotte nearly scoffed when she finally sat down.

“So, the truth’s out. This is how I look when I go to school.” With that, she gave him a piercing look.

“What do you want?”

Phantom R tilted his hat once more- why he felt the need to do so, she had no idea. It was as irritating as the rest of what he did.

“I’ve come to ask for your help.

                        0                                           0                                           0     

The fourth time Charlie Vergier saw Phantom R, she wished she could punch his lights out and be done with this entire mess. How an art thief had gotten himself involved in a plot involving resurrection and magic violins, she hadn’t the slightest of ideas. But still, she could grudgingly admit that currently, he was doing the right thing. Saving the blonde girl, Marie, and stopping whatever these… undead soldiers were doing was crucial to keeping Paris safe, and if she could help her father realize that he didn’t have to shoulder that burden alone while she was at it, then Charlie would tolerate the red-headed menace for now.

Charlie’s role in this plan was fairly simple- act as a distraction on her hang glider and activate the trick in the fake dragon crown remotely so Phantom R could get Marie out of the Eiffel tower and away from Napoleon. Which she was still trying to wrap her head around. Honestly, what was that Phantom even thinking?

The plan was going perfectly, too- Napoleon had fallen for the thief’s desperate act, demanding the crown be given before Marie was handed back to him. The moment the smoke screen went up, Charlie soared in- dressed as that dancing pest, so as to cause confusion, and exactly as planned, the undead emperor and his legion of clawed knights was looking up at her and lost sight of the real Phantom R. She continued to distract from above as R took down the knights below until he got to Marie, dragging her out of their hold and towards the planned exit point.

Of course, that was when things went wrong. The moment Charlie was out of sight- and by extension, unable to see what was happening- she heard a gunshot.

Making the u-turn in the air from where she was really was no easy task, and figuring out what angle she had to dive in at to get the Phantom out of whatever mess he’d landed in was something that she wished didn’t take her so much time. Along the way, she also discarded the Phony R suit- it would only get in the way if she kept it on.

And Charlie arrived just in time to grab his hand and pull him up into the air, away from the new man with the weirdly purple hair who had a gun pointed at his head, where R had stood ready to protect Marie anyways-

Ugh, that insufferably noble Phantom R was going to be the death of her.

[cutiecrates]

Cutie Reviews: Tokyo Treat Dec 18

Ironically, I just filled out a survey the other day about this box. Changes will probably be coming to it, but not for a handful of boxes yet considering how far behind I am. If the box does change, I just help I like it~

Meanwhile I still haven’t gotten my delivery. As of tomorrow it’ll have been two weeks since it sent.

“Everyone’s favorite time of year is finally here! The holidays have begun and cheer is flowing throughout the air. It is time to be generous to those around you, give and receive gifts, and to enjoy a good time with those dear to you. With that in mind, we curated a fun holiday Santa’s Snacks box so that you can share a relaxing time snacking on fun holiday themed Japanese snacks with friends and family. We hope you enjoy all the many snacks inspired by Japanese holiday culture and that this month’s snack box warms your heart during this holiday season. Who will you be sharing your snacks this month with? Whomever it is, we hope you have a great holiday!“

So because of pictures, I didn’t include the Lucky Treat or prize pics. The Lucky Treat is entirely Crayon Shin-chan dedicated (I’m not a big fan of that series so I don’t really mind not getting this one...) while the prizes are Vocaloid based. Those I’d have loved to get.

The book also features an article on Christmas traditions in Japan (like ordering KFC), and one on onsen.

Fanta Mango Jelly Drink & DIY

As usual I’ll be covering the DIY in a new topic- only because I do have a handful of pictures and a few choice words...

Okay, so our first item is a jellied, mango Fanta drink. It might be a little strange to have in December, but right now when it’s June it couldn’t be better timing!

Each can is 68kcal, which I think is pretty nice because with it being full of jelly it’s bound to fill you up a bit more than a normal drink would, and if you happen to be weight conscious or don’t want a big meal it could be a good addition to the meal.

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

I feel like if you like mango you’ll love this, but there’s a small chance if you don’t like mango you might still like it. Whatever you do do not smell it >3< maybe it’s just me, but as much as I like mango it always stinks. It’ll taste good but the smell is very unpleasant.

Texture is another thing to take into mind because this drink has it. If you don’t like gelatinous things this might not be something you would consider trying. I love jelly textures though :P

Salty Green Pea Mini Chips & Vegetable Potato Sticks

Next up are two semi-healthy vegetable themed savory snacks! The share pack item are the bags of potato sticks by Calbee, Each bag is only 44kcal and packed with 9 vegetables! You can even see bits of them in each stick.

These I’m pretty sure I’ve had before, but I don’t really remember so i will be rating them just to make sure.

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

The flavor is light but it’s there, it doesn’t really taste like one specific vegetable though. It kind of reminds me of a very light, non-breath threatening sour cream and onion. They have a medium-crisp.

Our next item are these mini chips by Bourbon, in salted pea flavor. Every 37 grams (which might be the entire bag) is 1 serving, for a total of 207kcal.

It’s hard to tell in the pic, but they kind of have a faint green coloring.

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

I didn’t really like these when I first tried them, I didn’t taste anything but some salt. However, the more of them you eat the more the flavor comes through, but oddly they don’t really taste like peas to me (I hate peas so it’s not a big deal), they make me think more of pistachio.

Apple Chocobi & Bourbon Strawberry Chocolate Chips

Okay, you can probably tell by now that Bourbon is kinda featured a lot in the box. Not a big deal though cause they got a lot of variety :3

Our first item in this pic is the Apple-flavored Chocobi. I admit I’m not a huge fan of these, usually because they go stale before I can finish them and they’re too sweet in my opinion. But I do like to try new flavors, and I love apples so I decided to remain open minded about this one.

These are made from apples all the way in Nagano Japan, and this set includes some cute, Crayon Shin-chan stickers in various locations in Japan.The one I got is Kagoshima.

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

I was very surprised by how tasty these are~ They are sweet but not cloyingly, and they actually taste like real apples, but they kind of remind me of cereal too.

For now, I think these might be my favorite (or at least liked) chocobi :3

Our next item I was very excited to try! I love strawberry chocolate, and chocolate-covered chips are usually-always delicious~

Each pack is 199kcal.

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

They pretty much taste like their name “chips covered in strawberry chocolate“, with a hint of salt. It makes me think of eating McDonalds fries with strawberry milk or ice cream actually, but they are delicious!

The flavor might be a bit odd, but I really think it’s good. I want to keep eating them~

Kumamon White Sesame Cracker

Our next item is a dense white sesame cracker, I think it also has a very light glaze and broken up pieces of nut in it. It kind of looks like something you would give a bird doesn’t it?

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

I thought it was kind of yummy, I love sesame seeds. But I also feel like I taste a bit of peanut, which I hate. I also didn’t like how dry it left my mouth after eating it. It’s also a little bitter, and sweet.

I feel like this is an “acquired“ item, because I gave a piece of it to my mom and she dislikes sesame seeds. Now, I’ve given her mochi with sesame seeds and she doesn’t seem to hate them, but this she didn’t like at all.

See, it’s unique things like this I wish they gave us more often. Maybe more rice-based products?

Melon Bread Cookies & Burnt Caramel Taiyaki

Next up we have two sweet items, first up being a small cookie based on Melon Pan (bread that resembles a melon. Only some of them actually taste like melon though).

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥

I’d say the melon-flavoring is a medium-high in rating, and I think the cookie might be shortbread. I thought it was nice for a bite sized cookie.

The larger item on the side is inspired by a Taiyaki (fish-shaped pancake-like treats filled with cream, jam, or chocolate). This is a popular snack item by meito and is flavored burnt caramel, these specific taiyaki are made from wafer with air popped chocolate inside~!

This specific flavor is 87kcal, and they have a handful of different flavors. As of now, I’ve tried two or three (soon to be four hint hint) of these, they’re so good.

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

The black color might look a bit scary at first (or not, I like black so I thought it was kind of fun), but oddly to me it actually smells and tastes a lot like brown sugar and pancakes, I love caramel but I thought this tasted amazing!

I would highly recommend trying this, or any of the others if you can find them!

Bubbly Cola Ramune Candy & Tomato & Cherry Gummies

Okay so... one of these items I was extremely dreading to try. Wanna guess which one?

Our first item here is the cola candy inspired by a real pop. If the picture doesn’t imply anything, this is very foamy. I noticed when sucking on it, the foaming is very slow, and the candy has a teensy bit of sourness. But when you bite into it, it will foam a huge amount! It filled my entire mouth!

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

As I say all the time, I love cola (I’m even drinking coke as I write this) so I really like getting to try the unique cola-flavored Japanese candies. I think these were really fun, and each pack actually has 3 of them in it so these would be a fun candy to share with friends or to give someone if you wanted to play a cute little prank on them ;p

The next item meanwhile... I was terrified of it. It’s our Kinosei (health snack) is a bag of these tomato and cherry gummies. They contain a blend of natural collagen and lycopene to increase ones natural beauty. They also lower blood pressure, refresh the skin, and help ones heart. It’s also naturally refreshing.

Each bag is 94kcal. They are squishy-soft and jelly-like on the inside. They smell strongly of ketchup and sweetness.

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ 

I kid you not, each time I smell these I cringe. I HATE tomatoes, but ironically I really like ketchup. Because of this, I was honestly afraid of this, the only reason I tried it was because I figured “it can’t be any worse than that Takoyaki ramune right?“

They’re actually not bad though; I was shook! I can’t really explain the flavor though, it’s like a cross between cherries and the acidicness of ketchup. Does that make sense? They’re have a neutral sweetness to them, and they actually are kind of refreshing. 

A few years ago I saw tomato jelly (basically a jelly tomato) on cold noodles during the summer and thought “what a strange concept“, but now I feel like I understand it a little more...

Bourbon Sylveine Chocolate Cake

To go with the holiday box, of course they had to include a holiday staple- that being a delicious cake! Everyone has a cake on Christmas in Japan, along with the KFC or home-cooked meal. Like a few other items this cake is by the brand Bourbon.

Each cake (or box, I’m not sure) is 102kcal. There are six cakes in total, so you could essentially use this as a dessert for a meal if you wanted :3 The cake is a soft, creamy yellow with thin sections of cream between the layers, and it is covered in chocolate and topped with something. I’m not sure what it is, but it reminds me of a raisin in taste and feel.

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

These are delicious- they’re a lot like little snack cakes you can buy at the grocery store, in fact I wouldn’t be surprised if these are the Japanese version of them.

The cakes are very soft and squishable, but not soft enough that they can’t be eaten in your hands if you really wanted or had to. But the chocolate is super-melty and a little bit bitter in taste.

I don’t get to have fancy cakes as much as I would like to (nor can I make them just yet...), I couldn’t help but feel fancy eating these cuties~

Oh, and I did share them with my family, don’t worry.

Takoyaki Umaibo & Christmas Pizza Poteko

I was pleasantly delighted by the variety of savory items we got, and surprised too. Our last time items are also savory :D including an Umaibo I’m not going to review because I’ve already had it. 

I will say that I think it’s delicious though- way better than the horrible takoyaki Ramune drink. It doesn’t taste fishy, but I honestly can’t think of how to describe the flavor either. It’s covered in seasoning, and it seems to have a very thin, saucy layer or glaze, matching the sauce Takoyaki is usually covered in.

The last item, which I will review because it’s new is an item we get all the time, Poteko rings. You’ve seen these several times on here, but again, when we have a new flavor I’m more likely to be open-minded, and I was kind of curious because we hardly get pizza-inspired snacks.

Rating: ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥ 

They strongly smell like cheese, but I actually didn’t taste pizza at all. To me (my mom agreed but my dad took some time to agree as well), it tastes like a McDonalds cheeseburger!

Like an exact cheeseburger from McDonalds. Bun, burger, cheese, ketchup, pickle and all. It’s very delicious, but it kind of made me wonder if they make burger flavored snacks...

♥ Cutie Ranking ♥

Content - 5 out of 5. I loved everything! There was also a nice change in that we had a LOT of savory items, and I thought they did well in terms of item variety. There was a bit of each thing.

Theme - 1.5 out of 5. Sadly I thought they did decently with this before, but this year was really lacking. I could feel the spirit on Christmas with the box, but if I didn’t know it was a Christmas box and didn’t get the one item with a Christmas wrapper I wouldn’t have been able to tell it was Christmas themed.

Total Rank: 9 out of 10. An awesome box, one of the best to have gotten I thought. All they had to do was focus more on the Christmas theme they were going for and I think it could have been a perfect 10.

♥ Cutie’s Scale of Yummy ♥

1. Burnt Caramel Taiyaki - Like I said, I’m not sure it tasted like caramel. But I really liked it! If I see it online I’ll definitely be buying it, I just hope the next one I get tastes as good, if not better~

2. Chocolate Cake - I’m glad we got six of these because they are very delicious~ My dad and I loved them, but my mom was less receptive since it reminded her of dark chocolate. 

3. Strawberry chocolate chips - I like em, what more can i say :D

4. Takoyaki Umaibo - I may not be able to describe the flavor well but this one is a winner!

5. Mango Jelly Drink - I really liked this, but as I already warned- try not to smell mango items. They will either smell delicious, or like feet. 

6. Cola Candy - I love cola, I love pop, I think fizzy candy is fun to try; I was a little surprised they were kind of sour though.

7. Apple Chocobi - Again, I was surprised by how much I actually liked these. Only because I’ve never been into Chocobi that much. They don’t taste bad, but I gotta remember to eat these before they go south (stale).

8. Pizza Poteko - I’m still convinced they taste like cheeseburgers, but they are good :P

9. Tomato & Cherry Gummies - I was really surprised by these!  

10. Melon Bread Cookie - It was okay. I like melon, but for some reason I’m not too into melon-flavored baked goods. I love melon candy and drinks.

11. Potato Sticks - They don’t have a huge amount of taste but I still like them enough. I like the texture too.

12. Peas Mini Chips -  They weren’t bad, I just like other items more. 

13. Sesame Cracker - I really did like it, but I wasn’t too crazy about the desert left in my mouth after eating it... 

[randrvstheworld]

From Rio to Guaratiba & my first Brazilian Christmas

Since my last post we have changed location - we are now in Barra de Guaratiba, essentially a tropical paradise of gorgeous beaches & jungle & glorious, continual sunshine & tiny monkeys. However more of Rio was explored before our departure, starting with the Casa de Escala: a very long set of steps decorated with lots of tiles & mosaics by a Brazilian artist called Selaron. As a massive fan of colour, tiles & repeating patterns this was literally my stairway to heaven. A riot of bright hues & a total mish-mash of tiles sourced from around the world, decorated with anything & everything from floral motifs to renderings of the places they were from; images from old film posters, famous faces, inspirational quotes, sheet music, you name it. It was so beautiful & fun & after we made it to the stop (via lots of shameless hipster-y photos & messing around on the tiled slides & climb-able bits at the edges of the stairway) we sat in the sun & drank coconuts & listened to someone playing wonderful latino guitar music. 

In what continued to be another Art Day we then went & spent a blissful hour at Rio’s modern art museum, which was for me a peaceful opportunity to sit, uninterrupted, & draw a very interesting brass Mark Bill sculpture. I just love art galleries; they are such calming spaces, always cool & quiet & great places for a good bit of quiet time drawing, plenty of inspiration. As I have not been feeling quite myself of late it was a really nice time to restore some calm & just immerse myself in my sketchbook quietly. It definitely helped.

After the gallery we headed to the top Rio tourist spot: Christ the Redeemer. The Big Guy. The Head Honcho. The main event. This involved a walk through a very pleasant, floral neighbourhood before boarding a little funicular train up the mountain upon which JC is perched. Blimey. It’s a high mountain, let me tell you. And none of this gradual incline nonsense; this mofo is STEEP. Literally like an arrowhead. The mountains here are crazy, I’ve never seen anything like them. They barely look like real mountains. But up we went, through the jungle on the little train, leaving Rio behind as we went up & up. I was frightened at the top. The whole of the city was spread out below us, so far down. It was officially the highest thing I have ever gone up. You can see for miles & miles. And then of course there’s JC himself. He’s intimidatingly tall. But oddly peaceful; there’s something in his stature & expression that feels calming. We wished him an early happy birthday & took in the frankly breathtaking views & larked about taking pictures (& oddly, starred in quite a lot of photos with a bunch of Asian tourists at their request). And then down we went, planning some fun for our final morning before we left the Big City.

This involved taking a guided tour of the Santa Marta favela; probably the most famous favela in Rio as it provided the setting for Michael Jackson’s ‘They don’t really care about us’ music video. The favela is huge, home to over 300,000 people, like a city within a city. We took the lift to the top & then walked down; our tour guide stopping to point out the first church, Michael Jackson square, & making time for some of our group to play football with some local kids. The favela is like houses on top of house on top of houses set into the hillside. The best views over Rio & the only place in the city where you can see Jesus looking down on you from the front. It’s difficult for me to find the right language to describe our experience here. I loved it, but is it patronising to describe it as humbling? But in a sense of course, it was. It certainly reminded me of my privilege to see how people live there. But is it insulting to assume that the residents there are less fortunate than myself? Less happy? Perhaps they are not. We all just live how we live & make the best of it. The people there were simply people; polite, friendly, welcoming, going about their business like you or I, taking care of their homes, kids playing in the street: just human. Very interesting & for me a real highlight. One of my main desires for this trip was to see how different people live around the world, experience different cultures & get some insight into humanity I guess. If anything it is excursions like this that make me realise that while we are all different, we are also all similar. Just people.

Unfortunately despite all these wonderful experiences - & they truly were wonderful - my time in Rio was somewhat blighted by a real cacophony of negative thoughts I was unable to shake. Feeling depressed is like a black cloud that settles over you & casts a shadow over everything you try & achieve. You can’t escape it, you just have to wait it out, which is horrible when you are trying valiantly to make the most of the travel opportunity of a lifetime. But what can you do? Try & appreciate as much as you can. Hannah got me started on something that I’m called the Positivity Project, where I make a list each day of ten things I am grateful for. Sometimes it can feel like everything is wrong but this is really helping me to see that even something that may seem trivial & meaningless to other people - or to yourself at less trying times - like eating a good, nourishing breakfast is in fact something, even a small something, that you can be positive about. In any case I feel it’s a small step in the right direction, to adjusting my ways of thinking, to helping me see good things when the dark cloud has taken residence.

After the tour we packed our things & headed off to where we are now: the Banana Leaf Eco Hostel in Guaratiba. This has been the best-timed change of location of all. We are surrounded by lush greenery, a beach just ten minutes away, a beautiful & comfortable hostel with a very welcoming host & his sweet daughter who have gone out of their way to make us feel so at home. On our first morning our breakfast was interrupted by a gaggle of marmosets who came to join us on the terrace & ate bits of banana out of our hands, which for me was truly magical. I have tried to restore a little routine into each day; making time for exercise, healthy food & art, interspersed with plenty of sunbathing & swimming in the pool, trying to rest & just trying to get myself right. It is working. I am feeling positive & grateful again. We celebrated Christmas here the Brazilian way: an epic feast at midnight on Christmas eve, surrounded by lots of local friends of Mark & Luna’s. We wore party hats & ate until late, roast things & local dishes, everything you could think of. 

Today however, was Christmas morning - as a South African, Mark also traditionally celebrates Christmas on the 25th so fully understood our excitement at breakfast as we ate fresh fruit & exchanged gifts. From Hannah: a bag of useful travel goodies including bite cream, facewipes, painkillers, plasters, & two ginormous bars of Galaxy chocolate & a package of English Breakfast tea. From Roxy: a tiny Nutcracker trinket box, purchased in Rio, as she knows that’s my favourite ballet & I’ve been listening to the music on repeat as I do every Christmas because it’s so delightful. I gifted them some fluffy alpaca socks & a painting respectively. I spoke to my brother & my mum & discussed my plans to go home, which made me really happy. We ate more delicious food & sunbathed & swam in the beautiful turquoise ocean in the late afternoon sun. It’s been my first ever Christmas away from my home & family & although inevitably that did make me a little emotional there are certainly worse ways I could have spent it. I’m now lying on a comfy sofa, writing this in the warm, listening to the sound of light jungle rain tap-tapping away outside. I can feel the dark cloud drifting away & I am feeling glad about lots of things. It’s been a lovely way to spend the holiday. 

[manchattanskyline]

Good Morning, New York!

Heaven is a place on the Lower West Side

When your day starts with putting make-up on and peeping over the top of your hand-mirror to see the Empire State Building, it’s never going to be a bad day. We had a great night’s sleep, thanks to the significantly quieter room, and were feeling refreshed as we headed up The Bowery and along West Houston towards Greenwich Village. The first stop was the original location of Magnolia Bakery , made most famous by Sex And The City. I’d visited here eleven years ago, as part of a Sex And The City Tour. The series had just finished, in the UK, so all the locations were still quite the place to be.  As we made our way up Bleecker St, we peered down the smaller streets to see row upon row of immaculate brownstone terraced houses. Each with their stone steps leading up to a large front door and, what one can only imagine, were perfect lives, inside. I have never been struck by so much perfection in one place, before. Of course, each person’s idea of perfection is very different but this was as close as I’m ever likely to get. Each new street revealed more and more neat rows of perfect. Sitting proudly with their tiny front gardens, impressive doorways and mind-boggling price tags. Although many have now been turned into individual apartments ( yours for just $6 million ), there is still the odd complete house and the even more jaw-droppingly priced double fronted properties.

The streets of Greenwich Village and super clean and delicately shaded with trees. There’s the odd pedestrian, dog walker and delivery van, as well as the occasional (quiet and courteous) renovation project in mid-flow. Greenwich Village is gorgeous but in quite an understated way. It’s not lavish but it’s certainly moneyed. Most of that money comes from the creative industries and there’s definitely an artistic vibe about the streets and the people. There were neighbours greeting each other on street corners and people quietly popping in and out of the independent art and design shops and myriad cafes, coffee shops and restaurants. Amongst these was an English style   tea-room, reminiscent of the ones that have popped up in the Northern Quarter of Manchester and hipster areas of London. We reached Magnolia Bakery, already head-over-heels in love with the area. I stuck with the traditional vanilla cupcake with vanilla frosting and Mr Manhattan had a peanut butter slice. I think their other locations around New York  are bigger, with table service, but this original store is tiny and take-away only. We sat on a bench in Abingdon Square Park to eat our breakfast. They were, quite frankly, the most delicious cakes we’d ever eaten. The cupcake was light and fluffy and the frosting was equally light but luxuriously creamy.  At $3.50, it wasn’t cheap, but good grief, it was one of the best $3.50 I’ve ever spent.

It wan’t until I got back to the hotel, later, and wi-fi, that I could confirm that we did, in fact, walk past Sarah Jessica Parker’s house. After a quick Google you can also find out how much she paid for her house. $22.5 million. For one terraced house. In Greenwich Village. Who are these people living here? Filling row upon row upon row of multi-million dollar properties. They can’t all be movie stars, can they??? I’d always remembered my previous visit to Greenwich Village but as it was part of a tour, we couldn’t do much exploring. I’d also known how much I’d want to live there and that it was probably my perfect real estate location.

Now, allow me to digress a bit. What is it that keeps us going on the really down days ( and I’m prone to them more than most)? What keeps us getting out of bed, getting dressed and doing what we need to do, that day? The answer, I think, is hope. As humans we have hope. We hope that we stay well, we hope that we will improve our lives, we hope and aspire to have more. My ‘more’ is New York, Greenwich Village specifically. I’m terrible at making-do with things and if I can’t have the real, full version of something I want, then I’ll go without. I’m thinking knock-off handbags, cheap chocolate, thank kind of thing. I’ve coveted a Greenwich Village property for as long as I’ve known they existed. The hope of winning the lottery, landing a massively well paid job or discovering a long-lost relative has bequeathed me such a proper has kept my dream alive. That was before I realised the price of these places. At $20 million +, that hope is pretty useless. Even a lottery win might not be enough. When I realised this, a but of me died. A bit of my New York dream floated away, down the Hudson, never to be seen again. But a weird thing also happened. I felt a little bit more free. I wasn’t tethered to that dream anymore. The dream that had always had me wanting more. The dream that always put a grey cloud over the relatively great life that I do have. I was equally joyous and defeated, in that moment. My dream was now totally and utterly unobtainable, and that was OK. I’m OK just knowing that this place exists and that their are people living my dream for me. Without any sarcasm, ill-will or jealousy, I wish them well, because I’m out from under the shadow of that dream and I can now enjoy the life I have, already. The life that is enough.

Washington Square Arch

I’m not sure it was THAT warm

just rock up and play chess

It seemed appropriate that this new freedom be accompanied by unseasonably warm temparatures ( it hit 15 Degrees C which is just plain weird) and we took advantage of the sunshine by sitting in Washington Square Park for a while,  watching the world go by. Buskers, people on their lunch break, tourists, school parties, locals with babies, everyone was glad to see the sun. The huge arch was resplendent, complete with massive Christmas tree, hanging on to the last. As seems to be a recurring there we thought it a good time to head off and get some lunch. We’d planned to go to Caffe Reggio, famed for bringing the cappuccino to America, so we set off down Macdougal St to find it. You can’t miss it, as it’s bright green. It’s quite dark inside with tiny tables and always busy, inside and out. We ordered sandwiches, biscotti and coffee and as it was such a lovely day and I was feeling a bit show-offy, I ordered a bellini, too. The food was delicious and the espresso just the right amount of bitter.

prosciutto, mozzarella and basil panini

Caffe Reggio exterior

As we headed south, further out of Greenwich Village and further in to TriBeCa, it gets busier and more commercial. Not in a Starbucks or Macdonald’s way, just in a more shops and businesses kind of way. All the shops and businesses are very cool, and a bit boho but not quite hipster. There’s still a sense of originality here that hasn’t yet been replaced with man-buns and Chorlton fringes. I’m afraid you’ll only know what that is, if you’re familiar with Manchester but a Google might bring something up.

There a certain crossroads, on Sullivan St where you can look north and be staring straight at the Empire State Building and look South and have a clear view of the freedom Tower. One of the many wonderful things about new York’s grid-system.

Sullivan St, looking south

Sullivan St, looking north

A more detailed mooch around TriBeCa brought some really quirky discoveries. Vintage clothes stores, very specialist shops ( one of them just sold salt !) book shops, tiny galleries and shops you could get lost in for days. Another long day, mostly on our feet, was drawing to a close so decided to make our way downtown, via a smart bar called The Tartinery, on Mulberry St. It was happy hour, a tradition which almost all bars seem to have adopted in New York and which, no doubt, has contributed to the wide-spread culture of after-work drinks. It was also amusing to find a few sports bars showing the Manchester United football match. I am by no means a football fan, and despite being a born and bred Mancunian, I’m not a United fan, but I did feel oddly proud for a moment. We only had one drink and after talking to our lovely French waitress who’d previously lived in London, we discovered that the easiest way to work out a tip, is to double the tax (which is shown on your bill). A note about tax and tipping: The tax is almost never included on the list price of anything. It gets added at the till or when you get the bill (check). The current rate of tax on goods and services in New York is 8.87 %. This, plus a tip (which is virtually mandatory) of around 18 %, can bump up the price of a couple of drinks or a snack. Worth bearing in mind when you’re considering holiday spending money or whether you have enough change to pay cash for something.

We walked back through Little Italy which had suddenly come alive. I don’t know if it was because, like most other cities, the weekend starts on Thursday or because of the warm weather, but everywhere was full of people, eating , drinking and having a great time. A stark contrast to the icey, quiet streets of Monday and Tuesday.

We stopped by an amazing food outlet, just metres away from our hotel, directly under the Manhattan Bridge. Taste of Northern China was to become one of our favourite places. It’s tiny inside, consisting of a minute kitchen and a counter with six stools at it. That’s it. The walls are bright orange a bit food splattered and the floor tiles could do with replacing but the food was phenomenal. The menu was really varied and along side your normal noodles, soups and skewers were beef tendons, chicken feet and other things that I’m sure are delicious but I was wasn’t about to try. We ordered noodle soup and spicy chicken skewers which were seasoned with an amazing chilli and cumin rub. The soup was so flavoursome and really fresh. Filled with vegetables fresh herbs, it felt like it was doing you good. The woman who owns the place is tiny and probably a bit terrifying but Taste of Northern China was as unique a place as you could find. All the food is made fresh, to order, in the open kitchen and even the noodle bowls were disposable. No room for washing up in this joint! On the way out, I noted a rave New York Times review of the place, taped to the window. We obviously weren’t the only fans.

After a brief rest-up at the hotel, we decided to take a walk over the Manhattan Bridge. It was dark now so although the views wouldn’t be far reaching, the lights from the city would look fabulous. We weren’t wrong. The views really are something else. It’s when you’re right up close and in the middle of it or when you’re a distance away that New York looks it’s best. In this case, the perspective you get from Manhattan Bridge

Not long after starting our walk across, we met a photographer and got chatting. He lived in Brooklyn and had a very good engineering-type job, as well as doing photography, on the side. Conversations ranged from photography, arts in general, kids these day and the city itself. After over an hour of walking, taking photos and talking, we  parted ways, just as the bridge joins Brooklyn. We walked back to the Manhattan side, taking more photos of the almost un-real views and then settled in for the night, with crappy American TV.

We have a friend in New York, now. Can we move here?

  WORDS AND PICTURES: An English Girl in New York – Day 3 Heaven is a place on the Lower West Side When your day starts with putting make-up on and peeping over the top of your hand-mirror to see the Empire State Building, it's never going to be a bad day.