#Café de la Place

[toosvanholstein]

Een ReisKunst-aflevering, óftewel St.Paul en de Kunst van het Leven 

Het grijpen van het moment, je intuïtie volgen, zelf een kantelpunt in je leven veroorzaken. Vaag? Nee hoor, lees maar in mijn TOOS&ART van deze week hoe concreet dat voor mij werd in Saint-Paul-de-Vence. #kunst #art #expo

Terwijl levensgezel vorige maand in de Rue Grande deze foto maakte, flitste door mij heen “dit wordt een nieuwe ReisKunst-aflevering “. Die serie nogal onregelmatig verschijnende verhalen over schilderijen die ik maak(te) en die gekoppeld zijn aan plekken op onze aardbol waaraan ik op mijn reizen inspiratie ontleen(de). Zoals bijvoorbeeld dat verhaal over het Jordaanse Petra en de voetjesvrijende…

[borntoloos]

[forthepleasureofmylife]

Place Saint-Sulpice  Paris

Photo: Dieter Krehbiel

[walker-diaries]

[hopeastrz]

𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐬; 𝐢𝐧 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐲🌻✨

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭.

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬!! 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝟏,𝟐𝐤 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭’𝐬 𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐞!!💛💛

𝐋𝐞𝐨 in the 𝟏𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 | 𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝟓°, 𝟏𝟕°, 𝟐𝟗° on the 𝐀𝐂

Everyone wishes the best for themselves, and you aren’t an exception, but without doubt you make it your life mission to have the most perfect looks. No one touches your hair, only the most elite hairdressers can, in other words and in a more general sense you’re really picky in your appearance, the way you present yourself to the world, physical body, beauty, presence, ambition, your outward behavior.

𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟐𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 | 𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝟓°, 𝟏𝟕°, 𝟐𝟗° 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟐𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞.

Picky in the food you eat or cook, restaurants and cafés you go to, beauty products, perfumes, make up, just how you spend/manage your money in all aspects, you have the most expensive material possessions, like paintings, antiques, and also your music taste is quite unique, you only listen to specific chosen artists and songs!

𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 | 𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝟓°, 𝟏𝟕°, 𝟐𝟗° 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟑𝐫𝐝 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞.

Picky in the conversations you decide to take part to or listen to, picky to whom you speak to, picky in the thoughts that swarm your mind, picky in your transportations and your cars?, you may not like going to the subway. the ideas and informations you indulge in, picky in your cell phone brand, social media accounts, gossips and short trips you take.

𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟒𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 | 𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝟓°, 𝟏𝟕°, 𝟐𝟗° 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐈𝐂.

Picky in your home decor, the place where your home is especially if you live alone, the neighborhood/ place of residence you chose may be quite luxurious, picky in your self care products, things that give you comfort, and maybe even with whom you decide to start a family with, also maybe you have a picky mother!.

𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟓𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 | 𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝟓°, 𝟏𝟕°, 𝟐𝟗° 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟓𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞.

Picky in what gives you pleasure, places you go to for fun, your hobbies, arts, movies you watch, hair products?, games you play, places you go for vacations, concerts, festivals, carnivals, malls and cinemas, just open air places, and maybe even your boyfriends and short-term partners!.

𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟔𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 | 𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝟓°, 𝟏𝟕°, 𝟐𝟗° 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟔𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞.

Picky in your self care, self care products, strict workout routine/workout place, you only go to the best gyms, picky in your hygiene products, in your workplace, daily routine, tasks, picky in your diets, in your pets, you pick the best food for them etc..

𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟕𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 | 𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝟓°, 𝟏𝟕°, 𝟐𝟗° 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐂 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞.

You’re picky in long term relationships, picky to those you chose to marry, picky in everything related to marriage, picky in people whom you’re attracted to, picky in your business partners, in your close associates and love affairs.

𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟖𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 | 𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝟓°, 𝟏𝟕°, 𝟐𝟗° 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟖𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞.

Picky in sex, picky in your kinks, things you’d inherit, people you’re intimate with, picky with whom you share you secrets with, if you’re into astrology and taboo stuff in general you don’t share these topics with everyone, and if you ever let’s say book a tarot reading you only choose the crème de la crème of tarot readers.

𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟗𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 | 𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝟓°, 𝟏𝟕°, 𝟐𝟗° 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟗𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞.

You probably went to one of the best universities, or like had an expensive college major, you’re picky in your beliefs, philosophies, languages and things you learn, also picky in the books you read, maybe even to where you travel daily too and media you consume.

𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟏𝟎𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 | 𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝟓°, 𝟏𝟕°, 𝟐𝟗° 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐂.

One of my favorite placements to have in a chart, you’re picky in the career you pursue, salary, and your public image, meaning you take a good care in what you chose to display to the public, since you catch people’s attention easily, you’re also picky in your responsibilities and your professional matters/long term goals.

𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟏𝟏𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 | 𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝟓°, 𝟏𝟕°, 𝟐𝟗° 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟏𝟏𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞.

Obviously picky with whom you befreiend, your friend group, close friends circle and even people you know on the social media, you tend to attract lots of famous and wealthy friends, I’m talking like meeting princess or actual celebrities. Picky in where you party, clubs you go to, you may be part of exclusive membership clubs or something, Picky in your desires, films you watch too, you have a very high manifestations, ideals and hopes, you dream big!

𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟏𝟐𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 | 𝐋𝐞𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐬 𝟓°, 𝟏𝟕°, 𝟐𝟗° 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝟏𝟐𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞.

Picky in whom you let get close to you, picky in your sleep/ sleep environment, you can’t just sleep anywhere, like you may need the place to be absolutely tidy, only sweet when there’s a sweet calming aroma wafting through the air, and on your silky sheets only too. Picky in your fears, picky in your hidden desires, who you chose to spill your past with.

𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐦 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐬, 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝟏𝟓 𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞!.

[olee]

Mil Horas | Enzo Vogrincic

*for the request of enzo :)

English and Spanish

It has been a challenging experience for you to witness the effects of your boyfriend's acting career on his mental and physical health. Your boyfriend, Enzo, recently secured a role in the movie "Society of the Snow," to be honest, this was a big deal for him. This was his first acting gig in a movie, and it was directed by a renowned film director, J.A. Bayona.

The movie's plot is set around a group of people surviving in the Andes mountains, and it follows a gripping storyline that keeps Enzo on his toes. He had to narrate some scenes and play a significant role in the film, which was exciting and nerve-wracking.

However, as the filming progressed, Enzo began to feel mentally and physically drained. He had to work long hours, often late at night, and the pressure to perform well was overwhelming. He struggled to balance his regular life with his filming schedule, and this took a toll on his mental and physical health.

You have been a supportive partner, trying your best to help Enzo cope with the demands of his acting career. You hope he can overcome these challenges and emerge victorious, as this is a significant milestone in his career.

Enzo, the lead actor in the upcoming film, had to drastically change his lifestyle to meet the demands of his character. He was required to follow a strict diet plan, but his dedication to his role led him to take extreme measures. He skipped meals and pushed himself beyond his limits as if he were truly surviving in the wild. As his loved one, you were understandably concerned about his health and well-being. You even spoke to the film's director, Bayona, about Enzo's condition.

One day, Enzo called you on WhatsApp, looking pale and exhausted. He had just finished filming a scene in Barcelona and was feeling weak. You answered his call and asked how he was doing, but before he could respond, you interrupted him and urged him to take care of himself, "Enzo, por favor, necesito que me escuches. Te lo he dicho millones de veces y nunca me das bola. Por favor, cuídate, me tenés preocupada. Necesito que sigas la dieta, si no vas a tener una reacción fea." You reminded him repeatedly to follow his diet plan and emphasized that he did not have to take the role so seriously. You assured him that his health was more important than anything else, and advised him to take some time to relax and meditate.

He sat there at the open-air café, his complexion drained and expression distant, sipping on a cup of coffee. With a reassuring tone, he said, "My love, don't worry about me. I'm perfectly fine. Take a look, just enjoying a peaceful moment with a cup of coffee here, and I wanted to see you. Honestly, Barcelona is treating me well, but I miss you so much, and I really need you here." Unsure how to respond, tears welled up, and you confessed, "Enzo, I miss you too!"

Enzo, noticing your tears, adopted a more comforting tone. "I don't want you to cry. I'm fine. Barcelona is challenging, but I know we'll be together again soon. I miss your hugs, your laughter, everything."

As you spoke, the conversation became tinged with nostalgia. Enzo shared details of his days in Barcelona, enthusiastically describing places and situations. "I swear, I even miss your scoldings here. No one cares for me like you do, and that's what I'm missing."

Amidst sips of coffee, you discussed plans for the future, dreaming of the moment when you would be face-to-face again. "We'll be together again soon. Don’t worry."

The background music caught your attention as he showed you through his camera the charming street in Barcelona where he was seated. To your surprise, it was your favorite song, "Mil Horas" by Los Abuelos De La Nada. A smile spread across your face as you recognized the familiar tune.

Funnily enough, Enzo, caught up in the moment, started singing the song, “Tengo un cohete en el pantalón/Vos estás tan fría/Como la nieve a mi alrededor/Vos estás tan blanca/Que yo no sé qué hacer/La otra noche te esperé bajo la lluvia, dos horas, mil horas, como un perro/Y cuando llegaste, me miraste y me dijiste: ‘loco, estás mojado, ya no te quiero’”His voice, carried by the ambiance of the street, added a touch of spontaneity to the virtual encounter. Without a second thought, you joined in, singing along with him. The distance between you seemed to fade away as the shared love for the song created a delightful connection across the miles.

[canisalbus]

You said that you had a Vasco playlist (also probably one for Machete bcs duh) but i dont think i have ever seen you share them

If you feel comfortable, could you link them so I can rotate them in my head with a proper soundtrack

(Love ur work btw <3)

They have playlists, yes, but they're kind of messy and embarrassing and I'd like to keep the full ones private for now ´v`'

However, here's some songs that remind me of them at the moment:

Machete

Soap&Skin - Me and the Devil

Hozier - Take Me To Church

PVRIS - Holy

River Styx - Angel

Coldplay - Viva La Vida

Florence + The Machine - Hunger

Florence + The Machine - Breath of Life

Florence + The Machine - No Light, No Light

Florence + The Machine - What The Water Gave Me

Florence + The Machine - Bedroom Hymns

Florence + The Machine - Shake It Out

Florence + The Machine - Seven Devils

Florence + The Machine - Which Witch

Nicole Dollanganger - Executioner

Des Rocs - Used to the Darkness

Depeche Mode - Personal Jesus

Gang of Youths - Achilles Come Down

Rufus Wainwright - Hallelujah

AURORA - Heathens

AURORA - Blood In the Wine

Mitski - I'm Your Man

Muse - Take a Bow

Hurts - Exile

Hurts - Help

Richard Einhorn - Pater Noster

Guillaume David - Children of the Omnissiah

Keane - Sovereign Light Café

AJJ - Body Terror Song

carolesdaughter - please put me in a medically induced coma

Vasco

Hozier - Francesca

Lotte Kestner - Halo

Mitski - I Bet on Losing Dogs 

alt-J - Every Other Freckle

BØRNS - American Money

Lincoln - Saint Bernard

Rainbow Kitten Surprise - Fever Pitch

Barns Courtney - Glitter & Gold

Hurts - Illuminated

Hurts - Some Kind of Heaven

Woodkid - Conquest of Spaces

Woodkid - The Great Escape

Laura Veirs - July Flame

Sia - Fire Meet Gasoline

Mika - Origin of Love

La Bouquet - Sad People Dancing

Röyksopp - I Had This Thing

Lord Huron - The Night We Met

Johnny Klimek - Meeting Laura

Johnny Klimek - The Crowd Embrace

Florence + The Machine - Wish That You Were Here

Florence + The Machine - Drumming Song

Florence + The Machine - Cosmic Love

Florence + The Machine - Patricia

Belinda Carlisle - Heaven Is A Place On Earth

ABBA - Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!

You Are My Sunshine

Bonus (these only make sense if you know Finnish)

Scandinavian Music Group - Liian laiha rakkaani

Happoradio - Ihmisenpyörä

Happoradio - Sinun vaikka hajoat

PMMP - Viimeinen valitusvirsi

Antti Tuisku - Pyhä kosketus

Antti Tuisku - Mistä minä tiedän

Johanna Kurkela - Valoihminen

Iisa - Kaunein syy

[aftgficrec]

Favorite Neil/Jean or Neil&Jean fics?

In the aftermath of the publication of The Sunshine Court the relationship between Neil and Jean has been put under the spotlight a little more (no spoilers here though!), but there have always been authors who have shown this combo the attention it deserves. In addition, many fics under our raven!neil tag feature friendships or relationships between Neil and Jean. - S

Previously recommended:

Neil Josten & Jean Moreau:

close friends Neil & Jean here

BFFs Jean & Neil here

Neil/Jean tumblr fics and headcanons here

‘Afterthoughts Chapter 68’, ‘Jean, Neil, and Kevin hanging out’ here (plus some more Neil & Jean under previous recs)

‘not very good at this’ here

Neil Josten/Jean Moreau:

Neil/Jean fics here (you can also find a link to our Neil/Jean tag here)

More Jean/Neil fics here

‘we’ll survive, you and i’, ‘Heart on Your Sleeve, Eyes on the Street (the Heart-Eyes Remix)’, and ‘Doves & Ravens’  here

Some of our favourites from previous posts:

Your humble and silky life by moonix [Rated G, 3582 words, complete, 2019, locked]

Jean’s life these days is quiet, uneventful. His best friend has a hopeless crush on the unattainable Minyard, Jean’s colleague at the botanical garden. Jean has a standing appointment every week with the most beautiful woman in the world, who is happily married to someone else—but that’s okay. There’s still Jeremy the waiter, whose smile is the highlight of Jean’s week.

tw: animal death

Black As Is The Raven, He’ll Get A Partner by nekojita [Rated E, 644156 words, complete, 2018]

When Wymack, Kevin and Andrew came to recruit Neil Josten in Millport, Neil decided to say 'no' instead of 'yes' to joining the Foxes and does what he does best, which is run. Unfortunately, that brings him to the attention of the Moriyamas, who return him to his 'rightful' place. Now Neil has to learn how to survive at the Nest with his only ally another 'asset' long kept under Riko's heel.

tw: violence, tw: rape/noncon, tw: dubcon, tw: blood, tw: panic attacks, tw: drug use, tw: alcohol, tw: minor character death, tw: homophobia, tw: involuntary outing

Apart from Your World (A Part of Mine) by ApprenticedMagician [Rated T, 17647 words, complete, Aftg Big Bang 2018, locked]

David is shipping him off to the Isle of Anglesey and, frankly, Neil could use the time and distance away from an ugly break-up that still hasn't smoothed over. The problem is, if he isn't being reminded of his ex (courtesy of working alongside his identical twin brother), then he's being reminded of the mother who abandoned him (courtesy of their assigned patient who suffers the same affliction she once did). All around, it's shaping up to be anything but the trip he signed up for.

tw: references to past abuse

NB: find art for this fic by @llheji here

So Keep Your Heart On Your Sleeve (And Keep Your Eyes On The Streets) by CasTheButler [Rated T, 4162 words, complete, Aftg Winter Exchange 2018]

Cause it's a God damn long drive fall, Back to normality. Jean starts at a new school on a new soccer team, makes some friends, and spends the whole time falling in love with a punk. Written for the 2018 AFTG Winter Exchange.

tw: panic attacks

And here are some fics we haven’t rec’ed yet:

Neil Josten & Jean Moreau:

Je crois en la chance de rejoindre la mer by Elyant [Rated T, 2007 words, complete, 2021, locked]

Part 4 of The Devil Makes Three

Jean has chosen the café whose tables were closest to the large windows overlooking the tarmac. After spending so many years underground and under the harsh fluorescent light of the Nest, he doesn't think he will ever have enough of the natural warmth of the sun. A duffle bag of clothes that are too new to feel like his, the tin of home-baked cookies Renee thrusted into his hands before he left, and a small package wrapped in kraft paper are his only baggage.  He's waiting for a plane from London to land because of a phone call he received a few nights before. He is therefore purposefully two hours too early for the flight that will take him to South California, to meet the team in crimson and gold that will become his family, even if he doesn't know it yet.

tw: implied/referenced abuse

from rain by ratbandaid [Rated T, 62807 words, complete, 2023]

Over time, Jean grew unsure as to why he'd been so intent on running from the mafia. He barely took care of himself and could hardly call whatever he was doing living. After all, he knew that one day, he'll be caught and dragged back, kicking and screaming, to be killed or worse: put back in the hands of Riko Moriyama. But when a snot-nosed, cocky brat, Neil, stumbles into his life, Jean slowly realizes what he's running for.

tw: implied/referenced abuse, tw: implied/referenced child abuse, tw: violence, tw: nightmares

based on this art by @estavs

NB: This one contains slight spoilers for The Sunshine Court:

epic understatement by LadyTimelessness [Rated T, 335 words, complete, 2024]

he's pissed off that jean had to go through this. they're basically nothing to each other, but damn it, neil wants to crack grayson's skull open that second. faith in the world finally burns out in the fire of disillusionment.

tw: implied/referenced rape/noncon, tw: implied/referenced murder

Neil Josten/Jean Moreau:

Skip the Last Dance For Me (the Trojan Horse remix) by justadreamfox [Rated T, 3572 words, complete, Aftg Remix 2020]

Neil and Jean are free of the Nest, and wearing the Trojan red and gold, but they've still got "normal" life to navigate and friendships (past and present) to juggle. Really, sometimes you just want to be alone with your boyfriend.  Ft. Exy, pizza, and Steven Spielberg.

Nothing Mattered Until You by Lostintheuniverseslies [Rated M, 22497 words, complete, 2023]

On the docks in Marseille, Neil fell in love. But his mother ripped him away and for years he never dared hope to see Jean again. He believed that he would die before ever getting the chance. But when recuperating with his uncle after his father is killed, Neil's chance comes. Unfortunately, he isn't the only one who went through some horrible things over the years. Despite their horrible pasts, they decide to try for a future together. Going to college and even making some friends along the way. But Riko has other plans and wants back what he considers his.

tw: implied/referenced torture, tw: implied/referenced domestic violence, tw: stalking, tw: harassment,  tw: dissociation

It's Friday, I'm in love by Greenfallleaves [Rated T, 5834 words, complete, 2023, locked]

The day Neil had found himself pushed into the strong chest of their school’s new student Jean Moreau had been one of his luckiest in hindsight.

Hold my breath in your hands by Greenfallleaves [Rated G, 2154 words, complete, 2023, locked]

Adapting to the world outside the nest hadn’t been easy for either Jean or Neil but now that they had had a few years to get used to it, they got to complain about (i.e. enjoy) spending quality time with their friends.

sleep notes by nanatsuyu [Rated T, 2928 words, complete, 2024, locked]

Neil smokes a joint and discusses the possibility that Kevin is an honest to God vampire.

tw: recreational drug use, tw: implied/referenced abuse

A kiss while someone watches by @stabbyfoxandrew [tumblr, 2024]

Nathaniel never really saw the point of kissing until he was brought to the nest. Or rather, until the first time Jean Moreau backed him up against the wall of their shared dorm during an argument.

Art

Jean & Neil by @ziegenkind094

Raven!neil au - napping by @dawnatlas 

Raven!neil au - partners by @dawnatlas

‘Stitch by stitch, tape and gauze…’ by @dawnatlas

two by @02511213942

Neil and Jean find an empty pool at night by @aminiyard

i believe in jean moreau supremacy by @caraleadraws 

secret santa gift for @nekojitachan by @aminiyard

Hello sunshine court by @estavs

[yourpicasso25]

Place Desmoules: Enjoy French city living!

Hi guys!

So, today, only one lot... But it's a beast of a lot!

Wecome to Place Desmoules, one of the main urban (and let's face it, exceedingly French) hub of Vogoelian activities that don't involve fish.

Well, mostly. I've had sea food adventures before, so I wouldn't bet too much on the doctor and the pharmacy about that. But otherwise? all clear.

So, as you can see, we have the Petit Corse restaurant RH on one side. It goes well with the town, and let's face it, I'm not a fan of herding cats, so the TS3 restaurants efforts never filled me with joy.

But there is plenty more action!

So, pharmacy, with shop AND lab at the back.

Next door:

It's a big shop, empty at the moment because I intend to do a kind of mini departement store in there, but there is already enough CC in there.

So I left it empty, and then we can all run amok with our stuff as we like (Hello, Pat!)

Then we get to the back, Place Desmoules, with a nice café and a beauty salon, before going to your medical appointement (and of which I forgot to take a photo, crappydoo)

Well, it's up there on the first floor.

Anyway, once you've done all that hard work, you might notice a little place:

What is this mysterious (and slightly scary) place?

Welcome to La Trompette Bouchée, the local jazz club, with local artists and also local and maybe fishy snacks.

Very atmospheric.

With quite a big scene, so if there is a passing acrobat or magician...

And while we're doing the bird view of things:

As you may have noticed, there are more Frenchy lots awaiting, some residential with PNG lodgins and attachet business... but also WIP at the moment.

Now, most of the chucktown of CC in there is @aroundthesims... I've haven't down loaded everything, but close.

Oh, and while I'm at it. Place Desmoules?

Well, first, I have a thing for silly French puns, so you have to suffer. Sorry not sorry.

Second, story time:

I told you, Vogoel les Mouettes had a small Pirate problem, some time ago...around 260 of those, which lands us in 1764.

King Louis XV "le bien aimé" who at the time was getting on years, and a nation who had an incredible sense of style (my fafourite!), but a lot of money problems.

Just to say that Pirates in the Caraibianswe can deal (by ignoring it, mostly), but right next door? soething had to be done.

Enter one pink satin frocked Pierre Desmoules, Chevalier du porte Jarretelle, to command an army... well, a flotilla... 3 ships? AND to solve the problem.

When the Pirates stopped laughing he got trounced.

Now, never underestimate the guile of a French aristocrat when his wallet is at risk. Pierre Desmoules brevet de Capitainerie may have been spanking new (and expensive), but he was not an idiot.

So he made a deal with the Pirates.

The Pirates kept pirating, and Pierre not looked the other way, but transported the goods to be sold on the mainland (for a small cut of profit, of course)... since the goods suddenly became legal, they fetched a far better price than stolen merchandise, and everybody was happy.

The king had "beaten" the Pirates, said Pirates made tons of cash, and papa Desmoules, a sea trader, had a lot of fine stock to sell.

End of story, but we are likely to meet the Desmoules family again in the future.

In the meantime, have a nice week you guys!

[toosvanholstein]

La Colombe d'Or, geen sterren op het bord maar aan de muur, het vervolg

Geen sterren op je bordje maar volop sterren aan de muur. Kunststerren. En dat in alle rust helemaal voor jezelf. Zoiets maak je maar eenmaal mee. Hoe dat kwam? In haar blog TOOS&ART doet Toos van Holstein er verslag van. #kunst #art #expo

Toos, kreeg ik als vraag  vanwege mijn blog vorige week over dat fameuze La Colombe d’Or in Saint-Paul-de-Vence, is ‘t niet vreselijk duur, dat restaurant? Nou, goedkoop is anders, maar duur? Valt verhoudingsgewijs best mee, zeker bij de lunch. Want sterren op de kaart hebben ze er niet, die hangen ze liever aan de muur! Hiernaast een pagina van de zeker borsthoge menukaart met heel grote…

[thebusylilbee]

"Un café crème et une minute, voire deux, de réflexion. Nawel (1) est à la recherche des mots pour décrire ses sentiments. La trentenaire est «chargée de sécurité en ligne» pour un média social. Elle a «galéré» pour se faire embaucher. La faute à quoi ? Son nom, son prénom et sa religion, dit-elle dans une brasserie parisienne proche de la place de la République. «Je fais attention à ne pas tomber dans la colère parce qu’on nous refuse le droit à la colère. Elle est perçue comme une forme de violence alors que nous la subissons au quotidien.» Le «nous» englobe de nombreux Français musulmans diplômés. Ils dénoncent une atmosphère «pesante» dans le monde du travail, les médias et l’espace public. Ils ne supportent plus les regards de travers les jours qui suivent les attentats, la «suspicion» et les débats politiques. Une vie avec la «boule au ventre», disent-ils.

Aïcha (1) qui enseigne la littérature dans le Val-de-Marne garde encore en elle la souffrance lorsqu’un collègue lui a posé une question après l’attaque du Hamas en Israël le 7 octobre. Elle était installée en train de boire son café en pianotant sur son téléphone dans la salle des professeurs. Tout était calme. Puis : «Et toi Aïcha, tu es bien silencieuse, ça ne te fait rien ce qui vient de se passer ?» Elle a fondu en larmes dans sa voiture sur le chemin du retour. En arrivant à son domicile, Aïcha a demandé à son compagnon : «Pourquoi on reste encore ici alors qu’on pourrait être respectés ailleurs ?»

«On se bat pour se faire embaucher»

Le ressenti est documenté. Trois sociologues ont mené une enquête. Olivier Esteves, Alice Picard et Julien Talpin ont interrogé une partie de cette «élite minoritaire» – appuyée sur un échantillon quantitatif de plus de 1 000 personnes et sur 140 entretiens approfondis – qui a décidé de quitter la France pour s’installer à Londres, Dubaï, New York, Casablanca, Montréal. Ils ont en fait un livre, La France, tu l’aimes mais tu la quittes (Seuil). Les interrogés racontent les raisons de l’exil : discrimination, stigmatisation et difficultés à grimper dans le fameux ascenseur social. Libération a rencontré une dizaine de jeunes diplômés musulmans – pratiquants ou non – qui travaillent actuellement en France mais qui pensent chaque jour un peu plus à l’exil. Nous en avons également croisé qui ont passé le cap ; celui de vivre ailleurs.

Le recteur de la grande mosquée de Bordeaux, le médiatique Tareq Oubrou, perçoit le phénomène. «Le malaise est profond chez les musulmans et ne l’a jamais autant été. Il y a de grandes interrogations, une angoisse même face à l’avenir politique et social d’une France qui se crispe», explique cette figure de l’islam de France. Combien ont passé la frontière ? Les chiffres n’existent pas.

Salim est ingénieur dans la téléphonie. «J’en parle presque tous les jours avec des copains, dit-il en introduction. Nous sommes nombreux à ressentir la même chose. On se bat pour se faire embaucher et on galère pour être promu. Récemment, mon collègue qui a été nommé chef d’équipe a été gêné. Il n’arrive même plus à me regarder dans les yeux. Je suis arrivé avant lui et j’ai fait de meilleures écoles que lui. Je suis vu comme le mec sympa qui fait des blagues, qui devrait remercier chaque matin ses patrons d’être là.» Le trentenaire est en train de se laisser convaincre par son cousin à Londres. Il gagne le double de son salaire mais pas seulement. Salim regarde le plafond, s’évade et revient parmi nous : «Personne ne lui fait de réflexions pendant le ramadan ou après une attaque terroriste. Il n’est pas vu comme un arabe ou un musulman mais comme un ingénieur français.»

«Je me suis sentie entièrement française»

Dans la brasserie parisienne, Nawel commande un second café crème et déroule le câble de sa trajectoire. C’est la petite dernière des huit enfants de la famille. Ses parents ont quitté le Maroc à la fin des années 60 pour s’installer dans l’Yonne. Le daron à l’usine et la daronne avec la marmaille. La famille déménage un peu plus tard dans un petit village du Loir-et-Cher. «Mon père est devenu bûcheron. Les premiers temps étaient compliqués dans le village. Il y avait beaucoup de racisme, nous étions la seule famille arabe du coin. Mais notre famille nombreuse a sauvé l’équipe de foot, la fanfare et l’école du village.» Après un bac littéraire, la petite dernière se lance dans la sociologie. Elle se retrouve à Londres grâce au programme Erasmus. Tout change. «Je rencontre des gens du monde entier et plus personne ne me méprise, dit-elle. Je n’avais plus besoin de me justifier ou d’avoir honte de ce que je suis. Et, pour la première fois de ma vie, je me suis sentie entièrement française.» Cette dernière phrase reviendra souvent tout au long de nos rencontres avec les expatriés.

Nawel se cherche à son retour. Elle se lance dans le journalisme, un milieu où l’entre-soi est roi et la diversité (surtout dans les postes à responsabilité) un songe. Elle galère, enchaîne les petits jobs pour payer les factures. Elle décide de partir pour Dublin, en Irlande, où elle se retrouve – après avoir vendu des sandwichs – modératrice de contenus pour Facebook. Elle gravit les échelons en interne et change de boîte. Airbnb puis Twitter (devenu X). La vie est belle. Un bon salaire et des responsabilités. Nawel décide de rentrer en France après sept années en Irlande. «Je pensais que ça allait bien se passer. J’avais fait mes preuves dans de grosses boîtes, mais non. Je postule à un tas de trucs mais je n’ai aucune réponse. Je galère aussi pour trouver un appartement à Paris. J’avais des offres d’emploi toutes les semaines en Irlande et pas une depuis mon retour en France.» Elle ne lâche pas l’affaire. La «chargée de sécurité en ligne» décroche deux entretiens. Deux réponses positives. Elle ne croit pas au hasard : «J’ai eu un entretien avec un directeur des ressources humaines maghrébin et le second, c’était en visioconférence avec un Afro-Américain parce que c’est une entreprise américaine.»

Pour Amara, 24 ans, la religion en France reste un «tabou», surtout dans le cadre professionnel. (Dorian Prost/Libération )

La jeunesse diplômée qui pense à l’exil se ressemble dans le regard de ceux qui mettent dans le même sac les enfants d’immigrés nés en France. «Nous sommes différents. Tous les Arabes ne sont pas musulmans et tous les musulmans ne sont pas Arabes, explique Salim. Et chez les croyants, les degrés de pratique varient mais de nombreuses personnes ne cherchent pas à comprendre.» Les pratiquants, notamment les femmes voilées, sont nombreux à se projeter loin de la France ; pas forcément dans des pays musulmans.

«On est obligés de cacher un peu notre identité»

Cap au Nord. Ils ont tous les deux un parcours brillant : étudiante en M1 dans une grande école lilloise pour l’une ; en dernière année de Centrale-Lille, cursus ingénieur en développement applications mobiles et web, pour l’autre. Fatima (1), 22 ans, a grandi à Roubaix, immigration de troisième génération. Ses grands-parents, habitants de l’Algérie française, sont arrivés en métropole dans les années 50. Amara, 24 ans, originaire de banlieue parisienne, a des parents venant d’Afrique subsaharienne : Côte-d’Ivoire pour le père, Guinée pour la mère. Tous les deux, si différents dans leur histoire, partagent le même désir d’ailleurs. «Rester reviendrait à vivre dans un pays où on ne se sent pas à 100 % acceptés», résume Fatima, voile kaki accordé à sa chemise vintage, chinée en friperie, et jeans blanc. Amara approuve : «Je voudrais trouver un pays où je peux pratiquer ma religion dans des conditions plus propices.» Il dit qu’en France, la religion reste un «tabou», surtout dans le cadre professionnel. Un regret ? «On est dans le pays où on a grandi, on fait la culture de ce pays, mais on est obligés de cacher un peu notre identité.»

Fatima souffre, elle, de l’image des musulmans issus des quartiers populaires. «On les associe dans l’imaginaire collectif à délinquance et à communautarisme. Et on nous confond avec des terroristes», soupire-t-elle. Le retour de Berlin, après un séjour Erasmus, a été dur. «Deux jours après, c’était l’annonce de l’interdiction de l’abaya. Je ne me sens pas vraiment concernée, je n’aime pas porter des robes, mais après Berlin, où tout le monde se respecte…» Elle porte le voile depuis trois ans. Dans son école lilloise, elle n’a subi aucune discrimination, de la part des profs comme des élèves. Juste parfois des étonnements maladroits quand on constate qu’elle ne parle pas arabe ou que ses parents sont français. Elle flippe pour les entretiens d’embauche. Elle a une autre peur, que l’extrême droite arrive au pouvoir. Pour ces raisons, elle prévoit de chercher du travail au Canada ou en Grande-Bretagne. «Soit on reste et on aide au développement de sa ville, soupire-t-elle. Soit on part, avec un sentiment de culpabilité. La France a investi sur moi, mais cela ne lui profitera peut-être pas. Je n’ai pas l’impression qu’elle se rende compte de cette perte.»

Amel a une phobie : l’avion. Elle traverse les mers et les océans pour rejoindre les différents continents. Elle a vécu un temps au Brésil. Puis un long moment à Dubaï. Elle raconte toujours un tas d’histoires. Ses traversées en cargo ou en voiliers. «J’ai toujours su que je quitterais la France après mes études, explique l’ancienne étudiante en école de commerce. Je n’ai jamais été une victime directe de racisme mais je sentais que j’aurais moins de barrières ailleurs et qu’on ne me jugerait pas.» Amel a créé plusieurs entreprises à Dubaï dans la cosmétique. Elle travaille aussi dans la finance. Dans un café du IIe arrondissement de Paris, la trentenaire pose une question qui paraît banale : «Pourquoi les choses ne changent pas ?» Elle ne cherche pas la réponse. Elle refuse de parler de «regrets» ou de «gâchis». Elle préfère dire «tant pis» pour la France. Son retour à Dubaï est programmé pour les prochaines semaines. Elle cherche un voilier pour embarquer.

Du racisme ordinaire devenu «monnaie courante»

Omar est ingénieur en informatique. Il a tout quitté du jour au lendemain pour la Californie. Une décision «difficile mais réfléchie», «contrainte aussi». Le trentenaire, fils de Marocains, est musulman pratiquant. Il y a six mois, il était encore «bien installé». Omar a traversé le monde pour s’établir à Los Angeles avec sa femme Nadia, 30 ans, chercheuse en biologie, et leurs deux enfants de 3 et 8 ans. La réponse à «une atmosphère islamophobe» devenue trop pesante. «Nos proches nous manquent, mais on ne veut plus se cacher par peur d’être jugés», dit-il. La réalité ? Un «incident» leur a fait franchir le pas l’an dernier. «Nadia a été dénoncée par des collègues car elle portait le voile dans son laboratoire.» Des questions de sécurité ont été mises en avant. Une «fausse excuse», selon Omar, qui insiste pour dire que sa femme travaille désormais dans l’un des plus grands hôpitaux de Californie «sans que cela ne leur pose de problème». Dans son entourage, leur cas n’est pas isolé, ses deux sœurs, dont il préfère taire la profession, sont parties en Angleterre pour les mêmes raisons.

La trentenaire Amel a préféré dire «tant pis» à la France et partir vivre à Dubaï. (Marie Rouge/Libération)

Facky, lui, raconte un tas d’anecdotes. Diplômé d’école d’ingénieur l’an dernier, il a sauté le pas il y a quatre mois pour rejoindre le Japon. Une parenthèse pour le moment. Il compte y apprendre la langue, pendant un an, et, s’il s’y plaît, s’y installer définitivement. Ici ou ailleurs mais pas en France. «J’aime mon pays mais malheureusement je n’ai plus vraiment l’espoir de vivre sereinement quand on te répète tous les jours que tu n’es pas chez toi en France.» Il raconte des expériences. Du racisme ordinaire devenu «monnaie courante». Cette fois, lors d’un contrôle d’identité alors qu’il attend sa mère, où quatre policiers le mettent en joue par crainte de ce qu’il peut avoir dans son sac. Un flingue pointé sur sa tête. Ou alors, «moins grave», mais tout aussi «fatiguant», lorsqu’un caissier de supermarché refuse de passer ses articles. Dernier épisode en date, il y a un mois, dans l’avion le ramenant en France pendant le ramadan. Il explique au personnel de bord qu’il jeûne. Une femme, assise à portée de la conversation, juge bon de donner son avis : «On est au Japon ou à Kaboul là ?»

Dans la brasserie parisienne, Nawel regarde l’heure. Elle doit retourner travailler. La pause est terminée. Une ultime question : partir ou rester en France ? «Je parle cinq langues et j’ai fait mes preuves mais mon pays a du mal �� reconnaître mes compétences. C’est triste. Nos parents sont venus ici pour travailler sans faire de vagues. Ils ont accepté beaucoup de choses que je ne pourrais jamais accepter.» Nouvelle hésitation. Nouveau silence. Puis : «Je n’ai pas envie de faire semblant ou de jouer à la meuf sympa pour me faire une place. C’est terminé cette époque. Peut-être que demain j’aurai des enfants et je ne veux pas qu’ils grandissent dans une ambiance ou il faut toujours montrer patte blanche ou se justifier.» "

(1) Les prénoms ont été modifiés.

[senditcolton]

I'm Still Glad I Met You (epilogue)

a/n: just a little something for Demi's "Lowkey Lovefest" because I wanted to write a little more of these two! hope you all enjoy! check out the fic here word count: 1.4k warnings: sexually charged flirting and the lead up to more but nothing explicit prompts used: fluff numbers 9, 12, & 13

There were a few things that made a house a home: laughter echoing off the walls, an abundance of love that palpable when you stepped through the door.

But for Emma, the best way to make a house a home was to bake. There was just something about the smell of bread fresh out of the oven that instantly transported you to the feeling of comfort and domesticity. It was one of the first things she did when she moved into Nico’s former bachelor pad.

Yes, she was a pastry chef, so baking in Nico's kitchen was expected to happen eventually but that first day, she baked a simple bread recipe just for them. And it remained to be one of her favorite memories; Nico welcoming her into his place and his life.

The memory is fresh in her mind as she leans over the kitchen counter, grabbing another handful of flour, sprinkling the marble top and the dough with the powder. Emma reaches up, brushing a strand of hair that fell from her messy bun away from her face before taking a hold of the rolling pin again. She moves, the strength in her arms pressing down and rolling out the dough, the butter now paper thin between each layer.

The industrial equipment and professional grade counters and refrigerators at Crème de la Crème would get this done faster but Emma never liked taking up space just to experiment when that space could yield more productivity for the café. Here, in her and Nico’s kitchen, was perfect for attempting a new recipe. Nico didn’t complain – not only did he get to try delicacies before anyone else but he was always honest and kind about what did and didn’t work. Even if he freely admitted that he still knew next to nothing about pastry, even after almost two years with Emma.

The jingle of keys and the creak of the hinges sound, signaling the return of Nico from practice. Emma hears the thud of his hockey bag hitting the floor of the hall closet and she smiles to herself, listening intently to the sound of his footsteps moving through the foyer and to the kitchen.

When they pause, she glances over her shoulder to find him leaning against the doorway and she’s forced to catch her breath at the sight of the sheen of sweat still lingering on his skin.

Two years and he still made her heart stutter every time she looked at him.

“Hey you,” Emma smiles, her hands never leaving the rolling pin.

“Hey you,” Nico repeats, lifting himself off the wall. He walks up behind her, his arms curling around her waist and pressing a quick kiss to her lips before looking over her shoulder at the dough on the counter. “What are you making this time?”

“Vanilla laminated brioche.”

“Sounds fancy,” Nico says.

“You think everything sounds fancy,” Emma laughs, the remembrance of him adorably trying to pronounce Religieuse coming into her mind.

Nico’s only reply is a hum, his head moving to press a small kiss against her cheek. Emma expects to feel his arms disappear and hear his footsteps retreat but the butterflies erupt when she feels the press of his lips against her skin. His kisses continue, moving down her cheekbone, towards her jaw until he places a gentle kiss on the spot on her neck that always elicits a reaction. And a reaction it does bring: Emma’s knees weakening as Nico continues to mark her skin, his hands moving underneath her shirt and tracing the lines of her hipbones.

“Nico,” she says, extending the vowels in a playful whine. “I’m in the middle of something.”

“I know,” comes his fast reply, no attempt being made to move. “And you look insanely hot.”

Emma can’t stop the blush that rises to her cheeks. She gently shakes her head, trying keep her attention on the task she was almost done with before she was not so rudely interrupted.

“It should be a crime to be that hot,” Nico whispers, his raspy voice against the shell of her ear forcing a shiver to run down her spine.

“That’s just the stove,” she quips. It wasn’t a lie; the stove was still warm from when she made the cream filling. But in reality, the words were an attempt to hide how much he was affecting her. It didn’t seem to work, the sensation of Nico’s lips curling in a smile against her skin making another tremor move through her.

“No, it’s all you.”

It takes all her focus to move the rolling pin over the dough a few more times before she places the heavy wooden utensil off to the side. She spins in Nico’s arms, coming to face him with a single eyebrow raised in amusement. An expression that is mirrored by Nico as he takes in the sight of her.

“You have flour on your forehead,” he says, as if that was the most important thing that needed to be addressed.

“Does that turn you on?” Emma teases, her arms coming up to rest on his shoulders, careful not to touch his shirt with her still flour-stained hands.

“Everything you do turns me on.”

“Oh, really?” she asks. “And why is that?”

“Simple. I love you.”

The words bring another smile to Emma’s face. No matter how many times she had heard them from his lips, it always felt like the first time. And Emma knew she would never get sick of hearing him say it.

She doesn’t immediately give a verbal reply, choosing instead to connect her lips with his. Nico’s arms tighten around her body, pulling her flush to his chest as the kiss deepens, his tongue brushing against hers. Emma can feel his hands moving, the fabric from her shirt bunching up as his hands lift above her hips over her waist and to her ribcage, his thumbs brushing the delicate underside of her breasts. She presses closer, the need for him flooding her body before her brain reminds her of the task still at hand. She pulls away from the kiss, smiling up at him.

“I love you too,” she says, pecking another kiss to his cheek before playfully scrunching up her nose. “Even though you still smell like practice. You need to go take a shower.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know,” he laughs, his hands finally falling away from her. “I’m going to.”

Emma hums an affirmative, turning back to the brioche dough, lifting it off the counter and placing it on the baking sheet. She hears Nico’s footsteps retreating away from her before they pause. She turns to find Nico once again lingering in the doorway.

“You’re welcome to join me,” Nico says, that hunger in his eyes returning and making Emma’s heart do somersaults in her chest.

She smiles as she grabs the towel next to her, wiping off her hands before tossing it aside. It only takes a few quick strides across the tile floor to reach Nico, launching herself into his arms before kissing him again. This time, it is desperate, no more holding back, her hands tangling into his still damp hair as his reach down to grip her ass, pulling her impossibly closer. Eventually, Emma is the one to break the kiss, her forehead resting against his.

“I have to put this dough in the fridge to rest overnight,” she explains, a wicked grin breaking out on her face. “You get started without me. I’ll be right there.”

“You better be,” Nico says, untangling her body from his before disappearing completely from the kitchen.

Emma listens intently to the door open, smiling when she hears the shower start. She finishes her task, placing the sheet in the fridge and throwing the dirty dishes into the sink to be dealt with later. Her footsteps are silent as she makes her way to the bathroom.

When she reaches the threshold, it isn't the steam already seeping out from the open door that causes her body to flood with heat. No, it’s Nico’s naked form standing under the showerhead, the water flowing in rivulets down his toned back that makes the warmth pool in her lower stomach.

The grin reappears as she walks in, closing the door behind her. The click of the lock hitting home calls Nico’s attention to her, his own smirk mirroring hers. Their eyes stay locked on one another as Emma peels the fabric from her body, her clothes slowly join his in heaps on the floor. Once rid of the layers, she crosses the small distance between them, sliding open the shower door and lets the steam and Nico’s arms wrap around her.

tags: @tkachvkmatthew @m00nlightdelights @cixrosie bonus tags @wyattjohnston & @offside-the-lines SIGN UP FOR MY TAGLIST HERE

[ruminiscence]

Paris: A Year Abroad in a short film

Audio: "Burnt Norton" by Lana Del Rey, a rendition of the original poem "Burnt Norton" by T.S. Eliot.

Where do I even start? Paris has wholly shaped me in ways I never imagined. We refer to Paris as the city of love, but I'm now more inclined to call it the city of art - which only leaves more room for love in your heart. There is so much to contemplate and appreciate in frequenting the vast array of art museums here - from the Louvre, Musée d’Orsay, Musée de l’Orangerie, the Centre Georges Pompidou, and many more. Not only has my perspective on art expanded, but so has my worldview. That’s because art is truly everywhere in this city; art can be found in the walkable streets amidst the rich architecture, the fashionable outfits seen in daily life, and even the exquisite decor in stores and when you cheekily peek into Parisian appartments!

There's always something new to discover in Paris, I'm almost saddened at the thought of the things I've yet to discover or missed. The treasures to unveil in Paris move far beyond the typical tourist hotspots we all know and love. I am obsessed with Parisian boutiques; they are chic and unique (that unintentionally rhymed) in the best way possible. One of my favourites is La Tonkinoise à Paris, located in the 11th arrondissement. This particular arrondissmenet is the best in Paris to be honest, it holds a special place in my heart as I had the wonderful opportunity of living there, so perhaps you can say that I am somewhat biased. Still, I can confidently say that this animated, hip and creative neighbourhood is one everyone should have the chance to explore.

La Tonkinoise à Paris, owned by the lovely Chantal, is my favourite hidden gem in Paris. I had the pleasure of befriending Chantal as I ended up frequenting her store one too many times; I've garnered quite a collection over time. This boutique offers a wide range of eccentric and sustainable jewellery, with her earring creations being the show stoppers, in my opinion. Her jewellery is composed of rings, pearls, brooches, charms, and watches, all unearthed in flea markets and recycled. I love that every piece of jewellery indeed is a unique piece. The decor changes based on the season and theme of her new collections, making it an ever-changing and exciting shopping experience. This is honestly the best jewellery store I have ever been to in my life! I wish the pictures I took could do the jewellery and the boutique's decor justice, but it simply won't, I'm afraid.

Now, onto food, I genuinely need to figure out where to start here. My favourite authentic French restaurant would have to be 'Le Potager du Père Thierry', located in Montmartre. Although it's incredibly small, I love the cosy vibe; I feel like I can enjoy delicious food with friends without feeling surrounded by strangers. Surprisingly, it's also very quiet (yet packed) - I guess the food is just too distracting.

As of late, my favourite non-french restaurant has to be 'Big Black Cook' (let's ignore how inappropriate that pun is, though funny). It's located in the 2nd arrondissement and serves Caribbean food, my friend claims that it was the best meat she's had!

For brunch, I recommend Café Méricourt in the 11th arrondissement. Their green Eggs & Feta are absolutely incredible and quite innovative as far as brunch places go.

As for a boulangerie - seriously, anywhere, literally anywhere in Paris, go to your nearest bakery; there need not be a big fuss - you're in for a scrumptious baked treat regardless!

I'm ever so grateful for the chance to have lived in Paris for an extended period; you cannot appreciate Paris in its entire splendour from a mere short-term visit. The city is an actual work of art; art is everywhere in the city, from the street performers and musicians, the light filters through the trees, the city's many architecturally rich bridges, the picturesque cafés and boulangeries, the beautifully presented food, the way that the city's many different neighbourhoods each have their own distinct character and vibe. In Paris, art is everywhere.

[rachels-rendez-vous]

🌃 lieux dans une ville ~ places in a city

le quartier - neighborhood

le parc - park

la bibliothèque - library

le musée - museum

la mairie - town hall

la poste - post office

l’hôpital - hospital

l’école - school

le cinéma - movie theater

le restaurant - restaurant

le magasin - store

la boulangerie - bakery

le café - cafe

le bar - bar

la pharmacie - pharmacy

la banque - bank

la gare - train station

la station de métro - metro station

l’arrêt de bus - bus stop

l’aéroport - airport

la station-service - gas station

le marché - market

le centre commercial - mall, shopping center

le centre-ville - downtown

le stade - stadium

l’église - church

la mosquée - mosque

la synagogue - synagogue

le temple - temple

[mochademic]

100 Days of Productivity [Day: 86] || 100 Jours de Productivité [Jour: 86]

the smell of books in the library. hearing the coffee bubbling in the carafe. same thing said in multiple languages – "beautiful," I say.

it's been busy. so busy. but that's nothing new. & I'm certainly not complaining. my 3 month review is in sight & it makes me so nervous. things have been going very well but I still fear anything I may be missing that may have not been brought to my attention.

I've taken to visiting the university library twice a week in order to give myself a place to study. there isn't anything wrong with home, necessarily, but it's always been easier for me to focus in that kind of setting.

academic work:

-review imperfect tense -start paragraph assignment

freelance work:

-develop film for prints -apply for tables at summer markets [yikes] -level book press

office work:

-answer all emails -finish period end work

currently listening // Kalatea by Kyon Grey

· · ────── ·𖥸· ────── · ·

thank you @zzzzzestforlife for the tag! [game explanation here & picrew here]

what I look like vs. what I want to look like

because I would love to have purple eyes and be dressed with a mini wizard hat to match my outfit!

I tag: @moonshine-mocha , @vounnasi , @megumi-fm , @halcyonem & anyone else who would like do try! ~ <3 [sorry if I'm re-tagging you ^^"]

l'odeur des livres dans la bibliothèque. entendre le café bouillonner dans la carafe. la même chose dite dans plusieurs langues - "magnifique", dis-je.

j'ai été très occupée. très occupée. mais ce n'est pas nouveau. et je ne me plains certainement pas. mon évaluation de trois mois est en vue et elle me rend très nerveuse. les choses se sont très bien passées mais je crains toujours de manquer quelque chose qui n'aurait pas été porté à mon attention.

J'ai pris l'habitude de me rendre à la bibliothèque de l'université deux fois par semaine afin de me donner un endroit où étudier. il n'y a rien de mal à être chez soi, mais il m'a toujours été plus facile de me concentrer dans ce genre d'environnement.

travail académique :

-révision de l'imparfait -commencer un travail sur un paragraphe

travail en free-lance :

-développer des films pour des tirages -candidature pour les tables des marchés d'été [aïe]. -mettre à niveau les presses à livres

travail de bureau :

-répondre à tous les courriels -finir le travail de fin de période

chanson // Kalatea par Kyon Grey

[transparentgentlemenmarker]

Trouver un endroit pour se détendre est une grande bénédiction. Un endroit où vous pouvez aller vivre le moment présent, loin de tout stress ou souci. Cet endroit peut être n'importe quoi, d'un café ou d'un parc préféré à un endroit tranquille à la maison ou à l'extérieur. Il est important de créer une atmosphère sans distraction, vous permettant de vous concentrer sur votre paix intérieure et votre bien-être. Cela pourrait impliquer des chandelles, des huiles essentielles et de la musique apaisante. Une fois que vous aurez trouvé votre place spéciale, vous pourrez mieux gérer vos émotions, vous connecter avec vos propres pensées et trouver la clarté. Prendre ce temps pour soi est un élément essentiel des soins personnels et peut vous aider à rester équilibré et concentré. La vidéo ci-dessous montre un café unique au Qatar qui donne aux clients l'impression d'être entrés dans un monde en 2D. Avez-vous un espace unique où vous diriger pour vous détendre et vous relaxer? 10 janvier 2023