#so instead i hiked down to the art building and used a light table and tried my best lmao | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mx-julien · 3 years

Text

glacier drabble for @imaginehavingmotivation since my asks are open rn

gen. fluff. pre-pilot

also on Ao3 (where i clarify my writing and actually use spellcheck)

///

The golden hour floods through the back windows and the sky's on full display atop the Mountain of Impossible Height. Cole's sotting at the kitchen table, lazily sketching. Light pencil jumps and flows across the page of his sketchbook. He'll think it's a terrible drawing in a few years, and turn red when people compliment it. Objectively, it's really quite impressive for a self-taught 17-year-old who doesn't practice much.

Lily used to draw skies like this one, especially after rock climbing. His dad would point at different paintings around their house and describe to Cole the kind of trips they would take. He'd be in the back strapped into his baby seat and his parents would talk low just over the sound of soft jazz from the radio. Lou would start to hike up the other side while Lily strapped baby Cole into a carrier on her back. On the climb up, she'd hum the songs his Dad didn't like until she was within earshot of the top. They'd meet there and she'd start sketching as Lou made them a campfire-style dinner. Then they'd hike back down and sleep in the car for the night, heading back as soon as the sun peeked over the horizon.

In high school, Cole probably would have ended up with a watercolor after thinking so much about his Mom, but now he's just smiling and also trying not to go blind as he sketches the sun.

Behind him, a plate shatters. He jerks from the daydream, spinning around and leaving a dark mark on his paper.

He's greeted with the sight of a sheepish friend. Well, fellow student of martial arts. His name is Zane and he got here about three weeks ago.

"I'm sorry," he walks carefully around the mess and over to the broom, "I did not intend to drop that."

Actually, compared to the broom, he's pretty tall. Taller than Cole, at least - especially with his hair. In the minute or so they have left of the brillant afternoon light, his skin glows as he turns to sweep up the mess.

"It's okay, I drop things all the time, too," Cole stands and walks over to the broom closet, pulling out a pan, "I can help?" He cocks his head a little to the side and raises his eyebrows.

Zane pauses and nearly takes a step back into broken porcelain before aborting the motion entirely, "Oh, that's not strictly necessary," he starts sweeping the slightest bit quicker and ducks his head, "I might as well clean up my own-"

Cole bends down and angles thw pan to catch some of the shards, "Yeah, but you don't have to," he looks up, "It's also quicker this way."

His eyebrows furrow, wrinkiling his nose in what Cole is moderately sure conveys confusion, "I cleaned and tidied various shops for almost a year. I am very familiar with the process."

"Okay, so let's do it."

Zane lets out a breath and sweeps the smaller-sized bits into the pan and points to beneath the sink, "New trash bags are there," he sets the broom aside, "You should empty the pan in there while I pick up the larger pieces."

They clean the floor, surrounded by ambient plastic rustling and wood creaking from around the much too old building. Cole mostly holds the bag for Zane to drop things into, so he's free to observe the clouds or the changing shadows. Instead, he sees how the places where light touches Zane's skin shimmer, contrasting his dark complexion and bouncing off his white hair.

Then, the person in question is looking at him and smirking.

Cole nearly trips over himself trying to turn around, running out of the kitchen and to the exterior door, "I'll put this in the trash can since we're done!"

It's darker outside than he'd expected; cleaning up must've taken a bit longer than he'd thought. Cole returns after just a minute, jogging back inside to cool the heat on his face.

He's met with the clicking of a gas burner and a knife laying atop a cutting board with a pile of scallions, minced garlic and ginger, and chopped bok choi. Zane's slightly hunched over the stove and lightly pours oil into a pan.

Cole retrieves his sketchbook and is nearly at the door when he decides to just flick the lightswitch and head back to his seat, this time facing the countertop. He flips to a new page and begins to plan out a scene ontop a mountain.

"When did you learn to sketch?" Zane barely finishes his question before the room crackles to life as he drops ingredients in.

He stands, and goes to lean on a doorframe near rhe stove, "My mother used to do it and I wanted to learn how, so I just studied a lot of her old sketchbooks."

The chef of the night just nods, "I, um, might have," he turns to the window, hiding his face, "Well, your drawings are rather well-done," he looks back at the stir-fry, "I noticed your sketchbook on the table and- well, my apologies, since I didn't have your permission. It's just, rather-" he glances at Cole, "It's beautiful."

///

i ended up also making this about Lily? sorry??

no editing we die unbetaed

also the ending isn't complete because for some reason in my head it just cuts back to Cole's shocked face and the credits roll for the sundance short film this is most certainly not

EDIT: apparently it's Lilly with two 'l's, RIP me

#lego ninjago #ninjago #ninjago fanfiction #ninjago fic #ninjago drabble #LRGanswers #LRGwritesthings #glacier #glaciershipping #cole x zane #zane julien #cole brookstone #lilly brookstone #lou brookstone

46 notes · View notes

dindjarindiaries · 4 years

Text

Bittersweet - Chapter 1: The Headache and a Half

summary: You come into work already preoccupied just to find out there’s a whole other group of people you’ll be working with, and you have to watch Marcus’ eyes wander.

warnings: pining right out of the gate, light angst, kinda-cringey beginning but stick with it, also i really don’t know anything about the fbi and i also only watched the episodes marcus was in so i’m sorry if things look really wrong lol

rating: T

word count: 4.612k

masterlist ⟹ next part

chapter 1: the headache and a half

You stand in the church with both your hands in those of a stranger, a man whose face is hidden from you—but you don’t seem to care about it. You’re dressed in all white with a veil to match, feeling elated yet torn apart at the same time. You don’t know why. You’re getting married and you’re supposed to be happy about that.

Except part of your heart feels empty, as if this isn’t right—as if this shouldn’t be the man standing there. But you don’t even know who this man is. How could you possibly know that?

Your thoughts are broken apart by the sound of the church door flying open and gasps of surprise from the guests. You look and feel your eyes double in size at the sight.

It’s Pike, standing there in all his soft glory, already dressed up for the occasion.

“Wait!” he exclaims. You’re eagerly studying the knit in his brow that shows his desperation and the glow of his dark eyes that beg for you to listen. “Don’t do it.” Marcus stops only when he’s at the base of the altar you’re standing on, his gaze locked in yours as he continues. “I should’ve told you before—so long ago—but I’ll tell you now.” He pauses to take a deep breath. “It’s you. It’s always been you. I’m in love with you.”

There’s another gasp throughout the church, but you feel that hesitance you’d had before finally dissipate at his words—and you realize that’s exactly what you’ve been waiting for. You separate from the man you’re standing across from to smile down at Marcus. “I love you too, Marcus,” you say with a voice full of disbelief and unshed tears. “I always have—and I always will.”

Marcus finally smiles in the same way you do, his eyes smaller yet brighter as they wrinkle up in the way you adore so much. He reaches out a hand to help you get down the steps to meet him, his hands remaining tight in yours as he looks down at you. No words are said—you’ve already spoken enough—and your gazes soon fall to each other’s lips. You lean closer and closer together, already starting to let your eyelids flutter closed, heart racing at the prospect of what’s to come, feeling his breath on your face, when finally—

—your alarm goes off, alerting you to the fact that it’s 7:15 in the morning and you have to get ready for work.

You release a groan as you slap your hand down against the clock, hands reaching for your spare pillow and stuffing it over your face. You scream into it, glad that it drowns out the sounds so your neighbors don’t think you’re being murdered. You might as well be. Having a dream like that makes you wish you were dead because what the hell even was that?

You toss the pillow aside again and sigh heavily, staring at the ceiling as you shake your head. “I’ve been watching too many romcoms,” you tell yourself, running your hands over your face. You haven’t even made it to work yet and you’re already starting to get a headache.

As you roll out of bed and get ready for the day, you think about how this sadly isn’t the first time you’ve had a dream like that. Now, the whole marriage-in-the-church-with-him-bursting-through-the-door is most definitely a newer and deeper context, but having dreams about your work partner of countless years is something you’ve become more and more used to. Thanks to your unrequited feelings for him, you’re bound to keep having dreams like this as long as your heart decides that it wants to torture you day-in and day-out.

But it also doesn’t help that you have to go into the office every day and work side-by-side with the man himself.

Marcus Pike isn’t the type to break your heart—consciously. You’ve known him for a long time, now, having both come into your jobs at the FBI around the same time. Obviously sharing many of the same interests thanks to the art-centered focus of your work, you became close quickly, which was helped by the fact that you were partners. Ever since, you’ve been close friends, and while you wouldn’t exactly coin the term “best friend” for Marcus, you know it’s pretty close—if it wasn’t for your best friend who already takes the spot.

Speaking of the devil, you hear a dinging come from the phone still on your bedside table, and you finish buttoning up your shirt to walk over and see what the notification is. You bite back a smile as you read the message.

andy💞: good morning, miss thing! here’s your daily reminder to make sure you stop dreaming about mr. perfect and get ready for work!😌

You shake your head and feel your cheeks heat up despite the fact Andy’s not even here to see it. She’s been your best friend ever since college, where you met each other at your first party and spilled out all your life problems to each other in the girl’s bathroom after drinking way too much vodka. After freshman year, she became your roommate and your faithful confidante through life. You’ve stayed close, even though she had to move to the city in New York for work and you went to Texas, texting you everyday and calling you at least a few times a week. Recently, she’s been preoccupied with helping you through your pining problems.

me: very funny, andrea. but you don’t even wanna hear about last night’s dream.

You send the message and put the phone down, refusing to entertain whatever curiosity you’ve pulled out of Andy now. Instead, you dwell more on the problems at hand. You wish you could get the image of Marcus bursting into your wedding out of your head, feeling embarrassed at the fact that your subconscious even created it in the first place.

Somewhere along the way of working with Marcus, you started developing feelings that went past the co-worker line. And then the friendship line. And now you don’t even know where the hell it lands. All you know is that you think about him way more than you should. Especially his smile… it’s so bright and downright adorable with that little dimple of his… and when his eyes crinkle up, oh it’s so—.

You stop and look in the mirror where you’re doing your makeup, slapping your own cheek to push those thoughts from your mind.

It happened at some point when you started to talk as more than coworkers, to learn things about Marcus that you know he hasn’t talked to many others about, including his divorce. You know what he’s been through and, in exchange for the deep truths he’s told you, he also knows what you’ve been through. This isn’t including the shared trauma you have at the things you’ve seen and done on the job together. That’s why he’s one of the only people you tolerate in that office.

Well… “tolerate” doesn’t really do your true feelings for Marcus any justice.

You huff as you finish your routine, finally going back out to your room and picking your phone up from the bedside table. There’s another text there and you’re already wishing you could send a punch through the phone.

andy💞: first of all, ‘andrea?’ rude??😤 second of all um ma’am now i NEED to know what happened.

Your gaze drifts to the ceiling for a moment as you release a heavy breath.

me: let’s just say it involved a church and a wedding dress.

You feel embarrassed even typing out the words, but you dread the moment when you see those three dots pop up in a bubble at the corner of the screen.

andy💞: oh shit, don’t tell me you married him LMAO😭

me: it’s worse than that.🤦‍♀️

andy💞: how can it possibly be worse than that???

me: listen, i’ll call you after work and tell you, kay? i gotta go.

You sigh when you lock your phone decisively, gathering the rest of your belongings and heading out of your humble apartment. After you make your way down to the lobby and get into your car, you fall back into the seat with a heavy sigh, groaning when your temples already start to tighten up into a tension headache.

Just what you need to go into work with.

The drive finds you numbly swimming through your thoughts as you go through the typical routine of your everyday suffering. Well, if you’re being honest, that’s a dramatic way to describe it. But still. You can never decide if you’re relieved to get to work and see your partner-of-long or if you’re dreading it. Having to face your partner after dreaming about him is… well, not ideal. You’re grateful that he doesn’t pick up on your awkwardness, though. Or, if he does, he never tells you. You’re equally as grateful for that.

You see a text on your phone from Andy but choose to ignore it, not needing the additional stress nor the reminder of your dream as you park in your usual spot in the garage. You hike your small bag on your shoulder and head inside the building, only taking a moment to refocus yourself once you’re inside the elevator. Your eyes fall closed as you release a heavy sigh, rubbing two of your fingers against each temple as you wiggle your jaw. You hope that the caffeine you know is already awaiting you on your desk will be a relief to the pain you’re experiencing. The doors open and you wince a bit as the fluorescents invade your vision, not helping your headache as you trudge over to your collection of desks.

To your surprise, there’s only the coffee sitting on your desk, still steaming—and no Marcus there to greet you as usual.

You don’t know if you’re grateful for that or saddened by it. All you do is give a light huff as you set down your bag, picking up the mug and giving it a daring taste. It’s perfect just like it always is. Marcus always pays attention to detail. The thought makes you smile—and for a brief moment, it makes you hopeful. Just like it always does. Every single morning.

The feeling quickly fades. You hold tight to your mug as you walk out of the cluster of desks, peering through the glass walls to see where Marcus—and the rest of your team, for that matter—could be. It’s highly unusual for them not to be crowding in a group around somebody’s desk, either studying a new case or trying to look up information on thieves you’ve been hunting for months. You find yourself hit with a large wave of shock when you walk out to see Marcus in one of the floor’s main conference rooms, sitting beside a blonde woman who’s obviously distressed. There are others in there with him who look familiar, but you know they’re not from your team.

They’re from the homicide team. You suddenly feel your headache intensify at the prospect of what this could mean. Through the glass, your gaze meets Marcus’, and his brow lifts as he gives you a look that practically says I’ll explain everything in a second. You give him a nod and draw a long sip from your coffee, holding back a wince when your temples tighten up painfully. The caffeine has to work its magic fast, or else you’ll be clocked out for the day before you’ve even really clocked in.

A few minutes later, you watch as Marcus stands up from his seat, a few others following as he heads out of the conference room. You stand and wait for him to meet you, his dark eyes glittering in a way that already informs you that you’ve got quite the situation on your hands. Once Marcus is in hearing range, you speak out.

“Is that the homicide team?” you question, raising an eyebrow as Marcus walks alongside you back to your cluster of desks.

“Yep,” Marcus answers, popping the “p” as he lets you step inside the glassed-off area first. You lean against your desk as Marcus tosses a pile of files onto his, standing with his hands on his hips in front of you as he continues. “This morning, there was a robbery during the local exhibition setup—including a murder.”

You exhale deeply and force more coffee down your throat, realizing that your physical headache is just the first one you’ll be getting today. “That’s more action than we’re used to.”

“Yeah,” Marcus agrees, crossing his arms now as he takes a quick look outside of the glass. “Now, the homicide team’s stepping in to help us.” He looks back to you. “Which, you know, means they’ll be leading the mission.”

“Obviously,” you murmur. Not that you’re not grateful for their work, but the agents who work in the homicide department have always been hailed as the heroes of the FBI. Patrick Jane is especially the one mentioned by many, with his ability to read people making him particularly noteworthy. You hold back a scoff at them stepping into the art theft department, likely eager to make your work look like some kind of opportunity for them to show off even more. “Not that I’d really want to deal with a murderer on our own.”

“Exactly.” Marcus finally walks over to join you at your side, leaning against your desk as he looks down at you. “How’s your morning been so far?”

You try to hide a smile as you shrug up at him. It’s a question Marcus asks you everyday without fail. “The usual.”

Marcus lifts an eyebrow. “So, getting pestered with texts from Andy?”

You laugh and widen your eyes for dramatic effect, taking another sip of coffee. “You know how the daily ritual goes.” You pause for a moment, debating on whether or not to tell him that you’ve been distracted and stressed all morning to the point of giving yourself a tension headache bad enough to make you sensitive to the fluorescents hanging above you. The only problem is, you know he’ll ask you why—and you don’t have a good lie thought up just yet.

Marcus beats you to it. “What else?” You look into his dark gaze to see it observing you closely, as if he knows something’s wrong. He always does.

Your shoulders sag a little as you stare back out beyond the glass. “I just didn’t sleep well.” You sigh as you pick through your half-lie. “I was stressed about it all morning and now I’ve given myself a headache from hell.” You look back up at him with a slightly-amused expression. “And hearing about this whole joint-operation with the homicide team is—.”

“—not the best remedy.” Marcus finishes the thought for you, giving you a nod in understanding. “I’m sorry. That sucks. Losing sleep is no joke.” He sits up a little taller and gestures with his thumb over towards his desk. “I think I have some stuff for a headache, if you need it.”

You smile gratefully at him. “Thanks, Pike, but that’s probably not the best idea.” When Marcus furrows his brow, you look down at your nearly-empty mug of coffee with shame. “I may or may not have completely forgotten to eat breakfast, so I’m running on an empty stomach.”

Marcus tuts at you, shaking his head with the ghost of a smile on his lips. “You gotta’ start taking better care of yourself, partner.” He fully stands up from the desk, walking over to his. “Thankfully, I’ve got just the thing.” Marcus opens a drawer of his desk to reveal not only the aforementioned bottle of pills, but also a granola bar.

You shake your head as he hands both items to you. “You don’t have to, Pike.”

“I know.” Marcus sticks his hands into his pockets as he lets his smile grow. “But if you’re not gonna take care of yourself, then I will.”

You fight hard to keep the heat from rising to your cheeks as you reach for the bottle of water in your bag and use that to swallow down two of the pills, handing the bottle back to Marcus before unwrapping the granola bar. As you eat it, you question Marcus for more information. “So, what’s on the docket for today, then?”

Marcus sighs and lets his gaze drift to the ceiling, as if he’s picturing the agenda in his mind. “Well, I’ve got a briefing to do with Fischer in about…” Marcus trails off as he looks down to the watch on his wrist, “ten minutes. Then, it’s all up to the homicide team. We’ll basically just be here as resources to help guide them.”

You nod and take another bite of the bar in your hand. “I assume I’ll get all the information I need in the briefing.”

Marcus nods to confirm your words. “I’ll try to make it nice and clear—and I’ll deal with their team.”

You shake your head as you stare up at him. “I couldn’t let you do that, Pike.”

Marcus gives his hand a wave. “It’s fine, partner. I’ll learn their ways—and then we can take them for ourselves.”

You snicker and raise an eyebrow. “So that’s why you want to handle it.”

“Nooo.” Marcus tries to refuse your words, but he does a terrible job as a mischievous smile appears on his lips. “Listen, I’ve got it, alright? Unless you wanna help.”

You scoff and finish off the granola bar. “No offense to them, but I’m not feeling particularly eager to work with a whole other department when this one’s got me crazed enough.”

Marcus laughs, patting your shoulder before he picks his files back up from his desk. He moves to head off, but stops in front of you, looking into your gaze seriously. “Hang in there. I’ll try to keep things short and sweet so we can get in and get out.” You give him a nod, and he pats your shoulder again before walking off towards the briefing room. You release a sigh and close your eyes for a moment, trying not to overthink his friendly actions nor remember what you’d dreamt about just hours before. You’re unsuccessful in both and it starts to reverse the effects of the pills you’ve taken.

Minutes later, you’re heading off to the briefing room yourself, taking a seat somewhere far away from the small crowd that’s closest to Marcus and Kim Fischer of the homicide department. You take out your notebook and release a soft breath, the tip of your pen bouncing against the paper as you wait for the clock to strike upon the hour. While you appreciated Marcus’ help in aiding your headache, it still hasn’t faded, and the way you’re clenching your jaw right now is surely a reason as to why. But you can’t help it. You feel on edge more than ever with this situation involving a whole other department—and you feel like something’s off.

During the briefing, you realize what.

Sitting just in front of Marcus is another famed agent from the homicide team, Teresa Lisbon. That’s a name you’ve heard more commonly in break rooms when you’re refilling your coffee and end up hearing the gossip of the building. Her name is almost always associated with Jane’s and you’ve caught on to the fact that—in a way quite similar to you and Marcus, actually—they’ve been partners forever and it’s led many to believe that they’re an item. But it still hasn’t happened. And now, you watch as her and Marcus share more than a few gazes during the meeting.

But you’re probably overthinking this. Right?

Yeah, you think to yourself, because the crazy woman who has romantic dreams of her partner at night gets to judge another woman and get jealous if she shares a few gazes with her partner. Totally entitled to all of that.

You roll your eyes at yourself and lean your elbow against the armrest of your chair, willing all your strength not to close your eyes and hide yourself from the sight.

Marcus sticks to his word and keeps what he has to say short and sweet. You write down whatever’s important but let yourself tune out what you don’t think is as necessary. You’re not usually the type to space out during briefings—you’ve always been known for your precision—but this situation feels far out of your hands as an art theft agent and more in the hands of those who sit around you. Once the briefing ends, you nearly exclaim a hallelujah, standing from your chair and beelining for your desk. A few moments after you plop down into your chair, Marcus appears yet again, his hands resting on the edge of the desk as you smile up at him.

“Nicely done, Agent Pike,” you inform him, watching as he gives you a nod in thanks. “So, it’s their move next?”

“Yeah,” Marcus confirms your words. “They’re making a plan, and they’re letting me in on it.”

You furrow your brow. “And not me?”

Marcus hesitates, his dark eyes searching yours as he lets out a soft sigh. “Yes, you, but here’s the thing.” Marcus crosses his arms as you anticipate his explanation. “You don’t seem like yourself today—so I want you to catch up on your sleep.” You’re about to argue when Marcus continues. “It’s okay, it happens, and nobody has to know.” Marcus lowers his voice as he goes on. “You can head home for a while, sleep as much as you need to, and if you feel up for it, you can come back tonight and join me here. Does that sound good? Or am I being a patronizing prick?”

You chuckle a bit at that and shake your head, giving him a small and relieved smile. “That sounds great, Pike. Thank you so much.”

Marcus simply nods again, reaching across your desk to pat your shoulder before he heads away. You release a sigh and stand up from your chair, hanging your bag on your shoulder as you make your escape. Your head is still pounding and your eyelids feel heavier at the idea of getting to sleep as you step onto the elevator. You can’t bring yourself to think of what you’ll miss but you do know that you feel embarrassed at the cause of your physical suffering. If Marcus knew, he probably wouldn’t be this kind to you about it.

Who are you kidding. It’s Marcus. He’d probably be even nicer about it.

As you walk to your car, you finally unlock your phone, seeing a leftover text from Andy.

andy💞: you better. i’m off work today, so i’ll be waiting.🥱

You shake your head as you sit inside, clipping your phone into the hands-free contraption suctioned to your windshield as you take off and call Andy. It only rings once before she picks up.

“Finally!” Andy exclaims overdramatically. “But also, shouldn’t you be working right now?”

“I should,” you agree, keeping your eyes on the road as you navigate your way back to your apartment, “but Pike sent me home to get some sleep.”

“He—what?” Andy’s obviously confused. “Did you tell him about the dream, or—?”

“No, Andy!” Your answer comes quick and loud. “Why the hell would I ever do that?”

“I don’t know! So that you’re not lying to him all the time?”

“That’d be awkward as hell. I’m never doing that.” You huff as you turn your wheel. “Anyway, Marcus just reads me well. He could tell I was off. I mean, I do have a headache that’s bordering dangerously on a migraine.”

“A Marcus-induced migraine?”

You bite your lip and tighten your hands around the wheel in annoyance at both yourself and Andy. “Possibly.”

Andy chuckles a bit on the other end of the line. “Ah, his power. If only he knew.”

“He won’t.”

“But can I? You still haven’t explained what happened!”

And so, in the time it takes for you to reach your apartment, you explain to Andy everything about your dream and what you could of what’s happened since then. Andy, of course, goes crazy over your romcom-esque dream, and she squeals at the drama of the situation you’re currently in with a whole other department filling your shoes. You even mention the looks you’d witnessed between Marcus and Teresa earlier.

“They gazed at each other? Multiple times?” Andy gasps dramatically. “How scandalous.”

“Shut up,” you wince, parking your car and trapping your phone between your ear and your shoulder as you get out. “Look, I’m sure it’s nothing and I’m just overthinking it, but… I know she’s got some kind of history with her partner and if something really does go down, I don’t wanna see Marcus get hurt again.”

“Or, you just wanna see him with you.”

You sigh and push your way inside your apartment building. “Fair point. That’s probably why I’m overthinking it.”

“I think you might be, Miss Thing. This isn’t a Jane Austen novel. They probably just looked at each other because briefings sound boring as hell and they didn’t know where else to look.”

“Probably.” You whimper once you get into your apartment and inside your bedroom, flopping down onto the bed as you close your eyes. “I feel so pathetic and creepy talking about Marcus like this, Andy. I shouldn’t be analyzing his every breath.”

“Hey, that’s what happens when you like someone. It’s fine. You’ll live, he’ll live, and life will work its way out. For now, you should probably take Marcus’ advice and sleep.”

You nod to agree, despite the fact Andy can’t see you. “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll talk to you later, Andy. Love ya’.”

“Love you more, girl. Sleep well and try not to dream of Marcus for once.”

You snort and shake your head. “I will.” You hang up and let out a deep breath, your brow furrowing together as you notice a new text notification. You open it up and you hate the way your heart practically leaps at the sight of Marcus’ contact name.

marcus🥞: Make sure you get some quality sleep, partner. Things are getting… interesting here and I miss having you around. I have a lot to fill you in on once you get here.

You smile to yourself as you type your response.

me: you got it, pike. try not to have too much fun without me. just pretend i’m there to roll my eyes.🙄

You start to let yourself settle into bed—regardless of your work clothes—and take one last look at your phone before you comply with Marcus’ request.

marcus🥞: I’ll try my best.🥴 Text me with how you’re feeling when you wake up.

me: roger that👍

You bite back a smile as you put your phone on your bedside table and relax against your pillow, already feeling your headache starting to fade in the face of Marcus’ kindness—and completely unknowing of the one that’s awaiting you the moment you step back into that building.

masterlist ⟹ next part

if you’d like to be added to the bittersweet tag list, let me know!

permanent tag list: @mikahid @bestintheparsec @stilllivindue2spite @givemethatgold @xbrujita @mandalorianspace @blushingwueen @sevvysaurus @myakai13 @thisis-theway @beskars @rachelloveseveryone @theindiealto @hiscyarika @burningsoulbloodyheart @wickedfrsgrl @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @bookwafflefangirl @charliepeaceout @cable-kenobi @ezraslittleblondestreak @hdlynn @your-pixels-are-showing @b0n-chann @nettyklecan @javier-djarin @chibi-liz05

#i didn't edit this i'm sorry lol but uh #yeehaw?#how we feelin?#idk how i feel but i promise it'll get better and less cringey lol #marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #the mentalist #dindjarindiaries #bittersweet fic

181 notes · View notes

mikkomacko · 6 years

Text

The True Encounter

“‘Wolf!’ cried my cunning heart,” Y/n recites, her fingers rubbing the soft dirt in the print. “At every sheep it spied, and roused the countryside.” Before she can finish the rest of the poem, a shadow is looming over the print, making her heart jump into her throat. She falls back onto her butt with a gasp, scooting away on her heels and hands.

Her mouth falls open in shock at the silhouette looming over her, broad and lean. Y/n can tell from the persons strong build that it's a man but with the moon behind him she can’t make out any of his features. But for some odd reason, she feels her shoulders relax and her lips close and she gazes up at the man. Butterflies flutter in her belly as she waits for him to speak and as if he knew she was waiting, he reached his hand out to her. Despite her better judgement, Y/n reaches out for his helping hand and that's when he finally speaks.

“You called for a wolf.” He simply states, making her hand falter in confusion.

Y/n meets a wolf in the woods and Harry has a hard time communicating with humans, especially humans that are destined to be his mate.

Friday nights are for fuzzy socks that soothe the sore spots on Y/n's feet from walking back and forth to class and work all day. For warm green tea with honey that sends pleasant tingles down her throat and into her belly, making her feel mushy and sleepy on the couch. For Marvel movie marathons just so she can see Chris Evan's dreamy blue eyes and feel so content with how pretty they are that she peacefully sleeps until 10 am the next day.

Friday nights are definitely not for wondering through the woods behind her apartment, hoping she'll get the perfect photo of the full moon for her art class. She could've saved herself from this useless hike and instead just used a scene from an old Stephen King movie that's not too scary, but scary enough to send chills up someone's spine when they see it.

Y/n snaps a picture of the moon through thick foliage, its bright glow barely visible through the branches of the grand old cottonwood. The picture is beautiful with the contrast of light to dark and the one grey cloud lingering under the moon but its not enough and she stills feel unsatisfied.

So instead of turning around and heading home so she can upload these pictures that’ll get her a B at most, she walks further into the woods, wincing at the rocks that poke through the thin bottoms of her Vans.

She snaps a couple more pictures of things she finds as she explores, a big spiderweb strung between two sunflowers and a dead batch of lilies but neither of these fulfill her need for the perfect photo so she keeps journeying further in, all the while, keeping her eyes on the rising moon.

Y/n is still watching the moon when she steps into a small clearing. All the trees are pushed back almost in a perfect circle leaving the perfect little valley of green grass and wild flowers. She gasps at how pretty the sight is in front of her, lifting her camera for a photo. The moon is so bright and without trees blocking it, she doesn’t even need the flash. Her finger is about to press down on the capture button when she spots it, in the top right corner of the window is a black hole in the grass.

Y/n lowers her camera, curiously looking at the hole. She walks toward it and the black fades into a shadow of an animal print. Slowly she drops down so she’s resting on her knees, her right hand falling into the print, her outstretched fingers easily fitting into the palm. It looks like a dog print but its way too big so it must be a wolf but she’s never seen a wolf with paws that huge.

“You called for a wolf.” He simply states, making her hand falter in confusion.

“W-what?” She stutters, her hand falling back onto the plush ground beside her. The man crouches down, resting his elbows on his knees and finally getting close enough that she can make out some details of his face.

Dark, curly hair that falls down to his shoulders frames his handsome face with its high cheek bones and slightly curved nose. He’s got a crease of concern between his eyebrows but his emerald eyes gaze at her softly and the butterflies in her stomach begin swooping up and down.

“Your cunning heart cried wolf s’I came.” He explains, his right hand reaching out and cupping Y/n’s jaw with surprising tenderness. He tilts her head up, his thumb rubbing over her cheek and his frown deepens. “Your covered in dirt,” He says, sounding like a father disappointed in his daughter for getting her best dress dirty. The pad of his thumb sends chills up Y/n’ s spine and she finds herself leaning into him. She stuck watching his eyes, how they shine in the moonlight and how intimidating they’d be if he weren’t caressing her cheek like she was a flower petal.

“ S’that why yeh called?” He questions, lightly tapping his finger in her chin dimple before bringing his hand back to rest on his knee again. It hits Y/n that he thinks she was personally calling for wolf so he came over to see what was the matter. But if he answered to her calling a wolf then he believes himself to be some kind of wolf. It’s not very logical but if he is a wolf, he could be the one responsible for the huge paw print. Y/n gazes down at where his hands lay limply in front of him. His palms are pretty big and he’s got spidery fingers so it’s possible that in paw form they could make a dent that size.

“I didn’t mean to call you.” Y/n finally says, knowing full well that this man could be some kind of murderer that uses fake prints to draw curiously stupid girls in so he can chops them to bits and use it to fertilize this luscious grass. But he really doesn’t seem the type, there’s something innocent and sweet about him that makes her heart warm.

The man tilts his head in confusion and Y/n swears his big green eyes resemble a puppy. “I’m sorry I touched your print, I was just trying to get a picture of the moon.”

“May I see your hands?” He questions, ignoring her comment about the paw print. Y/n lifts her hands off the grass and holds them out to him. He cups them in his hands, turning her wrists so her palms face him, her flesh stained green from falling. He rubs his thumbs over the sides of hers and lifts them up to his nose, inhaling deeply. His eyes flutter shut and he lets out a small noise from deep in his chest.

His hands stay holding hers as he lowers them and opens his eyes, his pupils seeming to swim with content. “Its very dark out, may I take yeh somewhere safe? I will return you to your hurse in the morning.”

Y/n doesn’t know what to say. She has no idea what he means by hurse but she is a long ways from her apartment and her feet are already aching. It’s probably not smart to go with this random man that calls himself a wolf and smells her hands but her heart aches to go with him so she pushes away her confusion and allows curiosity to nod her head yes.

“You’ re not going to kill me or anything right?” Y/n asks, nervously chuckling and fiddling with her camera. “Because I played mortal kombat once so I can kick ass you know?”

He lets out a sound that resembles an offended scoff. “I don't know what you're referring to but I would never hurt yeh. Especially after you touched my print.” They begin walking on a small dirt path, his hand occasionally reaching back to touch hers before continuing, as if checking to make sure she was still following him.

Y/n spots a tree with initials carved into it and she realizes she doesn’t know this man’s name and he doesn’t know hers. “My name is Y/n.” She speaks up, hoping he will introduce himself like she did.

“Y/n,” He murmurs, as if testing it out. He lets out a satisfied hum. “ I’ve wondered this for a while. M’Harry Styles.” Before Y/n can reply, he is stopped in the front of a vine covered boulder blocking the path. Without hesitation Harry pulls the vines to the side, exposing a dark cave.

Y/n latches onto Harry’s hand as they step into the dark. He closes his hand around hers, guiding her deeper into the darkness. Just when it seems like the cave can’t get any darker, it begins to lighten. Harry’s body comes into view and a light at the end grows until they are stepping out into a small town.

Harry doesn’t give her a chance to stop and gawk at the mysterious, hidden town. He gently pulls her down the brick sidewalk, past houses with no lights on and dim lamp posts. The town seems to be abandoned, everyone most likely asleep at this hour, yet Harry still rushes down the sidewalk and between buildings until they reach the outskirts.

Harry pulls her towards the smallest house she’s seen so far, situated so close to the edge of the tree line that the back half is shadowed by low branches. Harry pulls out a silver key and sticks it in the lock, twisting the door open and swiftly pulling Y/n in behind him.

The door shuts with a soft thump and they’re left in the shadows of what Y/n assumes is Harry’s home and the pale glow of the moon through the windows.

Harry releases her hand and scuffles about until a soft light fills the room, the source of it being a table lamp in his small living room. He awkwardly stands next to his flannel pattered couch, his hands clasped together in front of him and a dimply smile on his face that makes Y/n’s toes tingle.

“Where are we?” Y/n asks, clumsily toeing off her shoes as she keeps her eyes on Harry. He opens his arms wide, gesturing to the house that's too dark to make out details, and with a smile exclaims, “Welcome to my den!”

“Your den?” Y/n questions, cautiously stepping onto the carpet floors. She knows that wolves live in dens but those dens usually end up being caves, not cozy houses located in a hidden village in the woods.

“S’like your hurse.” Harry says, easily swinging his left leg over the back of the couch and then his right, falling onto his side on the plushy couch. He rolls off, somehow landing on his feet and beaming at her.

“I live here. “

Y/n steps closer to him, inhaling deeply as the best scent ever hits her nose. It smells like vanilla but there’s a hint of something musky and it makes her bones feel like jelly. “In-in the middle of the woods? In a secret town?”

“This is my pack village. S’too difficult to live among humans so we created this place. S’invisible to your kind unless you come with one of the pack members.” Harry nervously rings his fingers together, turning the left corner of his lips up in a soft smile.

“So you’re really a-” She’s cut off by a yawn so big the corner of her lips hurt and her eyes blur with tears. She stifles the rest of the yawn with her hands and rubs her moist eyes.

When she opens her eyes again, Harry is close at her side, that furrow back between brows and a pout on his raspberry lips. “Think we should get yeh in bed and I’ll explain in the morning, yeah?” He reaches up and cups her cheeks in his hands, his thumbs soothingly rubbing at her temples.

She wants to decline, say she’s not going to bed until he answers all of her questions but he smells so good and his hands are so warm she’s practically turning into mush. So she gives him a soft nod, careful not to disturb his massaging hands, and smiles sleepily at his beautiful eyes.

Harry shows Y/n to a bathroom and leaves her to wash up and brush her teeth with a spare bamboo toothbrush. He returns a few minutes later with a black t-shirt and a pair of running shorts for her to sleep in. She quickly changes into his clothes and folds her own, opening the door to reveal Harry waiting for her.

He’ s changed into baggy sweatpants and an olive green sweater, the sleeves falling down to the tips of his fingers. He pushes a stray strand of curly hair out of his face and smiles, the sight making Y/n feel warm and tired.

By the time Harry guides Y/n into a room, she’s practically sleep walking, guided by his hands that rest softly on her biceps. He leads her into a room that is dimly light by a night light plugged into the wall by the door. One of the biggest beds she’s ever seen is placed in the middle of the room, the blankets already pulled back.

He covers her up once she’s fallen into the soft mattress and softly pats her on the head. “I’ve brought yeh water and there’s extra blankets at the bottom of the bed.” He whispers, his voice barely heard over her slow breaths. “If yeh need anything I’m in the room across the hall, come get me, ‘kay?”

“M’kay.” She hums, already snuggling into the blankets. “Night Harry.”

It’s silent for a moment before he speaks. “G’night Y/n.”

With that he quietly exits the room, closing the door until there’s just a crack left open and waits to hear if she’s fallen asleep or fitful. When he hears no noise except her slow breathing and the soft thumps of her heart, he turns on his heels, heat pooling in his stomach, and disappears into the guest bedroom.

------

Let me know what you think of this xx

#Harry Styles #harry styles imagine #harry imagine #wolf #werewolf #supernatural #fluff #upcoming smut #one direction #Harry's a little softie in this one #solo harry #imagine #werewolf imagine #x reader #fanfic #fanfiction

417 notes · View notes

allsystemsgomarketing · 3 years

Text

La Mesa

La Mesa, California is a city a mere 9 miles from the center of downtown San Diego, CA, a smallish city with a population nearing 60000 with a growing community as homeowners are pushed east because of the incredibly high San Diego real estate prices. The civic motto of La Mesa is "jewel of the hills", and it can be a pretty place, very hilly and with a lot of classic old homes.

Getting To La Mesa

Like a lot of places around San Diego County, La Mesa is geographically pretty large, but mostly residential. Driving East from San Diego, you'll want to take the 8 Interstate to arrive at the city at its northern most areas, or you can take the 94 highway to arrive at the South of the city. A major portion of the 125 highway forms the Eastern most border of La Mesa, with Lemon Avenue extending La Mesa into the neighboring Mt. Helix area. The city is bordered by Rolando on the west, Lake Murray to the north and of course Lemon Grove to the south. Also to the South of La Mesa is Spring Valley, which reveals itself when drivers continue on the 94 instead of taking the 125 north into La Mesa.

Outdoors In La Mesa

Although it shares a lot of its incredible climate with San Diego, La Mesa is quite a bit hotter, as it is much further from the Pacific Ocean. But, this is still an enjoyable place for a hike or a picnic, and one of the best places for that has got to be Collier Park, which is a neat little 7.7 acre park that has some pretty quality green space. The park does have lighted tennis courts, which are harder to find in the county than you might expect. It also is a great place for families to get together on the weekend for a picnic, as there are quite a few tables around and BBQs, of course.

Since we're still outdoors here, it's probably a good bet to talk about MacArthur Park, which is a little park just north of La Mesa Boulevard that offers some nice outdoor space. The park is fenced in, is a great place to bring your dog and does have free parking. What is also cool is that it's within walking distance of downtown La Mesa, which is a pretty cool area if you're looking to do shopping or just grab a drink and a meal. The park does also have a recreation center and a pretty substantial play area for kids.

La Mesita Park includes the Junior Seau Sports Complex, named after the famous San Diego Charger, Junior Seau. This park also has a good amount of space to walk, as well as tennis courts, picnic sites and a skate park, which is always of interest to those looking to rip it up on a board.

Fitness enthusiasts will want to check out the not so secret La Mesa Secret Stairs, a place that has an excellent view from the top. This is a public stairway that was installed to facilitate foot traffic through adjacent neighborhoods. But, a lot of stair climbers tend to use it for fresh air exercising, and the sheer number of stairs makes it a serious exercise challenge.

Finally, we would be remiss if we did not mention Aztec Park, which is a smaller park than either Collier or MacArthur, but has a great view and vibe and can sometimes be quite empty, despite having a child's playground and some urban trails which are excellent for hiking in general.

Fun La Mesa Tourist Attractions

OK, so being right next to San Diego, one of Southern California's most epic tourist destinations, isn't necessarily going to be the best, but La Mesa does have some points of interest worth checking out. I would look to the San Pasqual Winery first, a small winery that apparently boasts great local wine and very friendly staff and servers. Check them out at the winery or a separate tasting room and gallery located on La Mesa Boulevard.

For Train enthusiasts, the Pacific Southwest Railway Museum is an excellent bet, located on Nebo drive not far from La Mesa Boulevard. The museum here is quite small, but does feature some classic looking train engines and cars, as well as a little gift shop. Apparently, this is one of the oldest buildings in California, and does sport a good deal of excellent railway history information.

Education in La Mesa

As this is a community nearing a population of 60,000, it only makes sense that there would be some quality spots for kids to be educated. So naturally, we first talk about Helix Charter High School, located on University Avenue at almost the middle point of La Mesa. Meanwhile, those of a more artistic bent may want to consider the La Mesa Arts Academy. This school actually has a lottery to select its students, so it's probably a good idea to not leave an admissions application until the last second! Finally, younger kids are gonna need some kind of book learning as well, which is of course offered at Murray Manor Elementary School, located north of the Interstate 8 and near the unofficial border with Lake Murray. Another interesting elementary school is the Lemon Avenue Elementary School, which is of course located on Lemon Avenue in La Mesa. Finally, for folks that would prefer to place their children in private schools, La Mesa does feature the Mount Helix Academy, and is in the North East corner of La Mesa right near Harry Griffen Park.

Shopping In La Mesa

As La Mesa isn't the smallest city ever, there are quite a few shops and shopping centers, but few as expansive and as popular as the Grossmont Center located just off of the 8 Interstate and is very near to the intersection at Fletcher Parkway and Jackson Drive. The mall is a little old school, but does have some pretty serious anchor tenants, such as Best Buy, Macy's, Target AND Walmart. As tends to be the case surrounding larger southern California malls like this, there does tend to be a variety of restaurant and retail properties nearby, such as Office Depot, Petco, BJ's Restaurant & Brewhouse and of course a Guitar Center, which actually apparently is still open (early 2021, anyway).

If you're looking primarily for groceries, or at least relatively interesting and nutritious non prepared foods, the Vine Ripe Market is a winner up on Fletcher Parkway, or nearer to downtown and Spring Street, check out the Sprouts location, or even the Vons at the corner of University and Allison. If you're from California or the West Coast, then it also bears pointing out that there is an excellent Trader Joe's location right off of Murray Drive and about a couple minute drive from the Grossmont Center. Also, the Frazier Farms Market is a great natural grocery store with no shortage of organic and farm to table-type items.

Eating Out In La Mesa

One of the best places to walk around and hang out in La Mesa has got to be downtown, where you'll run into such luminaries as the classic Hills Local Pub, Swami's Cafe and the Tiramisu Trattoria for good eats. A bit off of the beaten track but an easy and total classic establishment in the area is of course the Riviera Supper Club and Turquoise Room, a classic old school steakhouse where you can either cook your steak yourself, or have them do it for you. This is one of the most high character spots in the area, so if you have to be in La Mesa, hit the Riviera, and then stay and watch a band afterwards. You won't regret it!

Healthy Living In La Mesa

Last but definitely not least is mentioning access to health care in the area, which of course is fairly limited, but not by much. The Kaiser Permanente La Mesa Medical Offices are where a lot of locals see their M.D., while Sharp Grossmont Hospital is clearly the crown jewel of the area as far as medical care goes. The latter also features the La Mesa Cardiac Center and other medical specialties in the area, so if you have an issue, it's more than likely that it can be dealt with here. Meanwhile, if you have some kind of medical situation that requires a period of rehab, the Country Manor La Mesa Healthcare Center may be a good call for you!

So, let's have a good ol' time in La Mesa, shall we! We'll start by checking out the Pacific Southwest Railway Museum and then stopping for lunch at Banbu Sushi!

Good times right there, but let's get local and burn off some of those calories at La Mesa Secret Stairs!

There's always business to be done in La Mesa, so let's take a quick trip to La Mesa City Hall:

With the Sun still out, we want to take in a little more outdoors time, so let's head up to Aztec Park, which is a pretty quick drive if we take Baltimore Drive.

Having enjoyed the great weather, let's have a quick dinner at our absolute favorite local spot, The Riviera Supper Club!

And, of course, we close out our day trip to La Mesa by driving down University Avenue to hit the offices of La Mesa's most loved Internet Marketing Service, All Systems Go Marketing!

The blog post La Mesa is available on http://www.allsystemsgomarketing.com

from https://www.allsystemsgomarketing.com/areas-served/la-mesa

0 notes

tallstales · 4 years

Text

Day 9 Haunted Places in RI (13 Days of Halloween)

Every place has its tales of terror, especially at Halloween when ghosts are all the rage. Below is a list of 13 favorite local haunts for my state - Rhode Island! Being one of the oldest colonies in the United States, little Rhode Island has its fair share of old buildings and they are full of stories.

1. Byron Read Building - Coventry, Rhode Island

In the town of Coventry, Rhode Island sits an abandoned building on Washington Street. The local historical building located at 706 Washington RI 02816 as been falling to ruin over time. Formally owned by local business owner Byron Read, it has been home to Gorton’s funeral home services, a furniture maker, a Glasswares shop, child carriages builders, and those who sold furs, feathers, carpets and linoleum.This building, has been empty for decades but it does see the occasional short lived tennant. One renter in the 1990’s was using the space as a makeshift recording studio. Afterward, they regretted their decision.

The band knew the building’s history but they didn't give this a second thought. They didn’t expect to encounter anything unusual but what they experienced shocked them. They reported hearing loud banging sounds that would interrupt their recordings.Soon after band members witnessed several apparitions. One of these ghosts was a tall man wearing traditional baggy clothing. They saw this ghost walk right through walls. Another ghost they saw on several occasions was a small man that wore glasses. They allegedly identified this man as an undertaker from a portrait that was left in the building. The undertaker would frequently close the double doors in a room they used for rehearsals.

It is rumored that the creepiest activity they encountered was a woman’s mournful cries. During one of the band’s last visits to their new studio, they heard the doors slam shut behind them and as they began to record they heard other bangs within the building. They also reported hearing a female voice screaming. They seemed to be coming from the top floor but were so loud the band members could hear them throughout the building. When they built up their courage to investigate, the band went up to the 3rd floor and switched on the lights to the large room. Once the lights were on the noises immediately stopped.

Other witnesses state that they have seen lights flicker on and off and several have seen dark entities moving around the building. I myself would love to go in and explore. The building looks like i would make a lovely book shop and cafe. Maybe even one where the books would organize themselves! How fun would that be to own?

2. Nathanael Greene Homestead - Coventry, RI

Going down the road a bit in Coventry, you can find the Nathanael Greene Homestead. This home, now a museum, is located on Taft Street. Dating back to 1770, the historic home was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1971 and is recognized as a National Historic Landmark. This was once the home to American Revolutionary War General Nathanael Greene from 1770 to 1776, and then to his brother Jacob Greene and his wife Margaret. Today, the home is owned and operated by the General Nathanael Greene Homestead Association, a local non-profit organization.

A number of strange things are rumored to happen here.The baby carriage in Elizabeth Margaret's room has been known to move on its own. Other reports include apparitions, voices, screams, disembodied footsteps, door latches that open and close by themselves, and the sound of a phantom carriage driving up to the house. And in the unused kitchen, witnesses have reported the smell of bread baking. This range of spooky activity has given the house a reputation of being one of the most haunted buildings in Rhode Island.

The Nathanael Greene Homestead is one of the few on our list that is still open to small tours so be sure to check it out!

3. The White Horse Tavern - Newport, RI

America's Oldest Tavern is serving more than the expected spirits! The oldest, and supposedly most haunted tavern in America, White Horse Tavern opened in 1673 at which point it served as a courthouse, a meeting place for Colonists, British soldiers, pirates, sailors and founding fathers, and lastly, a private residence. According to legend, and some eye-witness tavern employees, several ghosts still occupy the tavern.

The ghost stories here go back decades and the list of sightings is longer than the Tavern’s bar menu! Many staff members claim to hear and see strange things frequently. There have been accounts of being tapped on the shoulder and disembodied footsteps overheard from nearby empty rooms. Ghostly sightings are said to include an elderly man in Colonial garb, a seamen who previously died on the premises, and a female reported floating above one of the dining tables. Would you like to arrange a visit?

4. Belcourt Castle - Newport, RI

Built in 1895, The Belcourt Castle is located at 657 Bellevue Avenue, Newport, RI. It was constructed as a summer cottage for Oliver Hazard Perry Belmont and was designed by architect Richard Morris Hunt. The home features a Chateau style and is 50,000 square feet, which leaves plenty of room for hauntings. It was purchased by the Tinney Family in 1956, who used the estate to showcase their expansive art and antiques collection. On July 28, 1957, Belcourt opened its doors to the public for guided tours of the museum.

The Belcourt is rumored to be one of Rhode Island's most haunted spots, it isn’t haunted by an actual ghost, instead it is home to haunted objects and antiques on display. Some antiques on this list are haunted chairs that move and send tingles up the spines to those who sit in them and a monk's statue that allegedly claimed the man's spirit that it was modeled on. There is also a suit of armor rumored to echo with the death cry of its original owner. A guest to the mansion, Harle Tinney discusses his interaction with this suit of armor in Haunted Newport:

"No one was home so I thought it was strange that the lights were on in the ballroom. Being naturally conservative and not wanting to burn the electricity unnecessarily, I went through the ballroom to turn out the lights. After I had turned off the switch, there was a very little light left. As I passed the front of the armor, something screamed at me. It was a horrible and loud, roaring sound. Then the lights went back on and I turned them off again and the armor screamed. When it screamed a third time, I ran as fast as I could from the room. The scream was terrifying. It sounded like someone was being killed."

The amount of paranormal activity at this century-old estate makes it one of Rhode Island's spookiest destinations. If you're feeling brave enough, the house offers tours of the haunted rooms and worldly antiques. And the sixty-room mansion has a lot of them!

5. Fort Wetherill - Jamestown, RI

Fort Wetherill is another one of the most haunted places in Rhode Island, but it may have the oldest haunt on this list. It is told that when the British took control of the Fort in 1776 they were terrorized by a black dog who prowled there. In British folklore, a black dog is said to be an omen of death so they were understandably kept on edge by his appearance.

He is still spotted on occasion at Fort Wetherill usually glaring at people before disappearing through a wall. To this day, people still report growling, barking, and howling there.

Rebuilt as a park in 1899, Fort Wetherill is located on Conanicut Island and sits on the East Passage of Narragansett Bay opposite Fort Adams State Park. Almost a century later the Fort would see death again when four women were found murdered and dumped in the water near the docks in 1985, all of them just in their 20s. Ever since the tragic incident, there have been over 200 police reports regarding paranormal activity.

Despite the violent history, the former artillery fort can has long been an interesting place for locals and tourists alike to hike through during the spring and summer. There is a museum’s worth of graffiti on the walls adding to the atmosphere. You only have to worry about staying after sundown if you don’t want things to get weird.

6. Chestnut Hill Cemetery - Exeter, RI

This is perhaps the best known haunted place in Rhode Island. Nestled in the Chestnut Hill Baptist Church Cemetery, flowers and trinkets adorning her well-worn tombstone, lays Mercy Brown . In 1892, when Mercy Brown died from tuberculosis it was nothing abnormal. In fact, she wasn’t even the first in her immediate family to suffer through the same sickness. Mercy, her mother, and two of her siblings all died of consumption and her brother was at the time sick as well. This was during a period when there was a great deal of hysteria surrounding vampires in New England and rumors persisted that one of the Browns must be undead.

This hysteria led to the families’ bodies being exhumed.But as more and more people began to die from the dreaded disease, suspicion arose that supernatural powers were to blame. Mercy’s mother and sister were dug up for inspection and after seeing sufficient decomposition to the bodies, were deemed safely dead. But Mercy, whose body was being stored in an above ground vault due to the frozen ground, seemed merely sleeping. When they cut out her heart to examine it, the frozen liquid was still bright red and that seemed to prove it. To the town, Mercy was a vampire and the only way to heal the evil she had spread and stop her victims from dying was to burn her heart and liver and mix the ashes in a tonic to feed to those victims. Even to some locals, this was too much. The story soon spread nationwide and even crossed the pond, allegedly inspiring Bram Stoker’s famou tale, Dracula.

Today, Mercy's grave is protected by a metal band connected to a post imbedded into the ground to prevent it from being stolen. Some visitors still claim Mercy’s ghost has been seen around the tomb wearing a dirty, ripped gown.

In one instance, a visitor to the cemetery managed to record a young woman’s voice in EVP form saying, “Please let me rest in peace”. Whether this was Mercy’s ghost or not, I think we can all agree that the poor young woman has been through enough in life and death and should be left to rest in peace.

7. The Ladd School - Exeter, RI

The Ladd School, formerly known as the Rhode Island School for the Feeble Minded, was founded in 1908 . Over the years it came to be home to criminals and other people society felt would be best removed from the general population. This included everyone from the mentally ill to promiscuous women. The school became known for horrible and often immoral acts against those who were being cared for.

Those acts included but are not limited to forced sterilizations, lobotomys, and other barbaric treatments including murder of disabled children. In addition to staff harming the patients, many of them committed crimes against each other as well.

This abandoned building is now known to be one of the most haunted abandoned places in the united States. It is common for electronic items to be drained of power and many locals report hearing moaning, footsteps or shuffling feet and crying throughout the main building and other surrounding buildings. Witnesses have also claimed to hear disembodied voices murmuring, whispering or crying out. Doors have been seen opening or closing without explanation. These same doors also seem to lock at times even if there is no lock on the door itself. Eerie growling sounds have been heard in patients' former rooms, when no animals are present. Some visitors here have also claimed they were touched, shoved, or they've had items knocked out of their hands by some unseen force.

Outside, visitors have claimed to see human shaped shadows moving across the field and into the woods. Voices have been heard out there as well and many have photographed glowing orbs. Car radios are said to go haywire or stop working all together and a few people have claimed that their car alarms or horns have gone off for no reason. Best to leave the roaming of these grounds to the spirits and stay away.

8. Providence Athenaeum - Providence, RI

Dating back to 1836, The Providence Athenaeum first opened as a member run library out of the Providence Arcade in downtown. Eventually, the library moved to its current location at 251 Benefit Street in Providence, RI. It is this location that has been the site of reported paranormal activity. The library was loved by both H.P. Lovecraft and Edgar Allan Poe. Poe in particular has left a significant impression.

The well documented romance between Edgar Allan Poe and poet Sarah Helen Whitman highlights many a visit to this famous library. It's said the ghost of Poe himself haunts the top floor. Poe died not long after he and Whitman ended their engagement in the Athenaeum and Whitman is said to have summoned his spirit in the library. If you believe this then it may not surprise you that years later a man was found sleeping on the Athenaeum steps. When asked to move, he proceeded to yell out Poe’s poem The Conqueror Worm before vanishing into thin air.

There is also a cursed fountain on the premises. Legend has it if you drink from the fountain outside the Providence Athenaeum you may leave Rhode Island but are guaranteed to always return. Since the fountain is from 1873, it is not in the best condition and is recommend by the staff that you don't test this legend out or you may never return to life itself.

9. Cumberland Public Library - Cumberland, RI

Another haunted library on our list is the Cumberland Public Library. The most infamous haunting in the town of Cumberland, settled in 1635 is on the grounds of a former monastery and current library. Common reports of paranormal activity include disembodied screams, a phantom monk on the grounds as well as moving from one place to another on their own. Many of the people who live locally actually believe that it is not just the building itself that is haunted, but the entire surrounding area.

Locals believe that it is haunted by the spirits of nine militiamen who are said to have been flayed there. Too little is known about the event to be certain but flaying does seem violent enough to warrant a few screams now and then. I have been on the grounds before and though I haven’t seen monks or moving books or heard screams, I can say that there is a lovely wooded path to walk along. And though beautiful, my husband and I did keep turning around because we felt like we were being followed. Weird!

10. THE BILTMORE HOTEL - PROVIDENCE, RI

Since opening in 1922, this haunted hotel has been the inspiration for not one but two horror hits! It Both the Bates Motel in Robert Bloch’s horror novel “Psycho” and the Overlook Hotel in Stephen King’s book “The Shining.” were inspired by stays at The Biltmore.

In October 2017, the iconic hotel in downtown Providence became the Graduate Providence, but the ghosts have stayed checked in. The Biltmore Hotel was named as America’s most haunted hotel in 2000. When you look into the hotel’s history it is easy to see why

When it was built, The Biltmore was financially backed by rumored Satanist Johan Leisse Weisskopf. It has been said that he oversaw rituals in the building and there were even rumors of human sacrifices having taken place. The hotel also became a hot spot during Prohibition and a number of high profile murders took place amidst the rowdy parties involving police officers and even the mayor. All of this has led to a range of paranormal activity. Guests often report the sounds of rowdy parties coming from empty rooms long after the hotel bars have closed. There have also been instances of guests vanishing from the halls as recently as 2008. I don’t know about you but I think this seems like a great place to attend a party or take a tour but maybe not where I want to spend the night.

11. Slater Mill - Pawtucket, RI

Dating back to 1793, this historic Mill is located on the banks of the Blackstone River in Pawtucket and was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1966. This historic textile mill complex was modeled after cotton spinning mills first established in England.Now operating as a history museum, the site is recognized as the birthplace of the American Industrial Revolution. It's also said to be pretty haunted by those who died at the factory while working on dangerous machines.

During the time period that the factory was in operation, children were allowed to be employed as workers and because of their size, they would sometimes be forced to clean out the machines when they were jammed. Haunting reports here include dark figures as well as the sounds of children running around and child’s screams.

12. Governor Sprague Mansion - Cranston, RI.

Located at 1351 Cranston Street, the historic Governor Sprague Mansion is a stunning former mansion and current museum. Birthplace of two Rhode Island governors, this mansion has seen a lot of history but also its share of violence. The mansion is said to be haunted by a former resident after his mysterious murder in the 1800s.

Amasa Sprague, successful textile merchant and brother of governor and US senator William Sprague, was found beaten to death outside the mansion in December 1843. John Gordon was accused and found guilty of the murder and sentenced to death by hanging. Gordon would be the last person executed in Rhode Island. In 2011, the case was researched and Gordon was pardoned postmortem based on the lack of evidence supporting his conviction. It seems that when reviewing historical documents, there is much more evidence for a clear anti-Catholic and anti-Irish bias than there was Gordon having anything to do with the murder. But Gordon’s ghost might be holding a grudge stronger than a pardon given too late. Sprague Mansion is said to be under the power of a poltergeist ever since the hanging.

Witness reports run the gamut from the mysterious unmaking of beds, flickering lights and shuffling footsteps to actual ghost sightings, disembodied whispers and objects moving on their own.

13. The Perron House (The Conjuring House) - Burrillville, RI

Last on our list is the internationally famous Perron House. In the 1970s, a family called the Perrons moved to a beautiful house on the border of Harrisville and Burrillville to raise their family. They might have not picked the best place to bring their children however. According to the legend, the property belonged to a deceased Satanist named Bathsheba who killed her own daughter to appease the Devil.

The Perron House has become a worldwide sensation thanks to the movie based on true events that occurred in the home of Roger and Carolyn Perron. It’s a pretty solid choice if you’re looking for something spooky to watch this Halloween.

As the story goes, it wasn’t long after the couple and their daughters moved into the home that they started seeing terrifying things. Mrs. Perron once woke to find an old woman in a gray dress with her head hanging at an awkward angle standing over her bed. Famed paranormal experts Ed and Lorraine Warren were brought in to help and quickly concluded that this was the spirit of Bathsheba Sherman who hanged herself after murdering her daughter in a ritual to bind her soul to the property. The Perrons went through some insane happenings in this house but it is believed that the Warrens did manage to separate the ghosts of the past from the property. So, though this used to be a major haunting hotspot, it seems to be a peaceful place to live today.

Readers be warned. This is not a tourist spot to go and explore. This is a private residence and ever since the release of the 2013 film the family residing there have been besieged, not by spirits but by trespassers. Do not disturb this family. It isn’t fair to them, they did not profit from the film at all and you would not want strangers in your yard looking through your windows at all hours.

WHAT ARE SOME OF YOUR FAVORITE SPOOKY SPOTS IN RI? DON’T FORGET TO SHARE YOUR EXPERIENCE AND PICTURES IN THE COMMENTS BELOW!

13 DAYS OF HALLOWEEN IS A SPECIAL TREAT FOR ME AND MY READERS. ON HALLOWEEN, THERE WILL BE A VERY SPECIAL GIVEAWAY I’D LOVE FOR YOU TO TAKE PART IN. ALL YOU HAVE TO DO TO ENTER IS COMMENT OR SHARE THIS POST TO YOUR SOCIAL MEDIA.

THANK YOU FOR PARTICIPATING AND BEST OF LUCK!

0 notes

infinitum-imaginaerum · 7 years

Text

Model Type // Johnny - NCT

“Heyyy, buddy,” Taeil called, rolling up into the room. Johnny was the only one there, so there was no mistake Taeil was talking to him. Johnny looked over, eyebrows raised, ready to hear what Taeil could possibly have to say that caused him to sound so nervous.

The older male scratched the back of his neck as he continued to approach Johnny. “Yes, Taeil? Got something to say?” he asked.

“Do you want to make an easy five hundred bucks?”

Johnny squinted hard as he looked at Taeil. There was no such thing as an easy five hundred bucks. He waited for Taeil to explain, but he literally was just going to stand there looking like a dork until Johnny conjured a response.

“What’s the catch, Taeil?” he asked.

Taeil’s nervous smile wasn’t easily hidden and he tried to turn away so the younger wouldn’t be able to see it. “It’s a modeling job. They’re looking for physique models; an artist… you have to sit still for a while.”

Johnny looked at Taeil, waiting for more. He could tell by the hesitation that there was a lot left to say, plus he was being really vague about the whole thing. “You know them, obviously. You don’t come up to me so nervous asking me to sit in front of someone with my shirt off if you don’t. You wouldn’t be asking me in the first place,” Johnny explain, squinting again, very suspicious of Taeil’s behavior.

“Fine! She’s a friend of mine, she’s trying to get a designing job but she’s having a hard time with bulkier dress because she’s never had practice drawing those types of people. No cameras, no paperwork, she won’t even remember you,” Taeil finally explained, but he could feel the red paint his face the more he talked.

“Five hundred dollars and all I have to do is sit there,” Johnny stated, asking for confirmation with the look in his eyes.

“Five hundred, just sit there, still, patiently,” he responded.

Johnny was the shy type when it came to things like that. He wasn’t a huge proponent being shirtless around anyone. So, he sat there and thought about it, staring blankly at the wood of the coffee table, following the grooves.

“When?”

“Later today… I know it’s really last minute, I’m sorry—”

“I guess it won’t give me time to change my mind. I’ll do it for five hundred,” Johnny replied, interrupting Taeil who emitted a sigh of relief and thanked him kindly before leaving the room, no doubt to go tell his friend that it was good to go and that Johnny would be there later that day.

The day seemed to pass with no problem. Oddly enough, Johnny didn’t feel anxious at all about this. It was one-hundred percent anonymous other than the fact that she’d straight up know that he knew Taeil. No names, no contracts, no pictures, just art.

He rolled up to a sketch brick building, but it held the address scribbled down on the paper clutched in his hand. A few more times his gaze switched between the paper and the building before he pushed aside his reservations and went in. It was chilly out his hands shoving immediately into the pockets of his hoody as he entered, trying to beat the cold. “Studio B, studio B, studio B,” he muttered to himself as he walked down the hall. The rooms appeared to be numbered in no particular order so finding Studio B appeared to be harder than he thought.

He finally arrived to a solid wood door, a sign on it that signified his destination. His hand wrapped around the bronze handle and now he was having second thoughts. “This whole thing is so sketch,” he commented to himself, but the door was opening and he was stepping in before he knew it.

There was an easel at first view, he could see jean clad legs sitting behind it and that had to be Taeil’s friend.

Johnny cleared his through, “Hello.”

“I’m so sorry; I didn’t hear you come in! You must be Johnny,” you supposed, scrambling out of your chair to greet him. “I’m really glad you could come; I have been having such a hard time finding a model and I just—”

You paused when you finally had a chance to look up at him after cleaning your hands off. His hair was a little disheveled from his hood, but other than that, you were particularly speechless. You blinked hard a couple of times to make sure he was real which had him turning his head away from you in embarrassment.

“Forgive me for staring,” you commented as immediately as you could, trying to shake yourself back into reality and get down to business. You jutted your hand out containing the wad of cash promised. “If it’s more comfortable, we can do a couple of sketches with a shirt on so you can get the hang of posing for a while,” you suggested as he hesitantly took the money from you, shoving it into the back pocket of his dark jeans.

No words passed from Johnny’s lips as you directed him to a stool where he could sit under the proper lighting before you dashed behind your easel, turning it to face to his left and positioned your stool for the proper head swivel. “We’re just going to do a couple of quick sketches, but still try to find a pose that’s comfortable,” you suggested.

He shifted without words, covering a majority of his face with a large hand after hiking a leg up to rest his foot on a rung of the stool enough to he could rest his elbow against that. It was the arm furthest away from you so it didn’t really matter. The other was bent, his hand shoved halfway into his pocket and the leg supporting him was straight out, shoe planted firmly on the hardwood.

“Is that good?” you asked him.

“Yeah,” he replied dryly.

“O-okay,” you stuttered. You could definitely tell he didn’t want to be there; but he had already agreed and you had already paid him so you weren’t about to let him go so easily. You threw down his basic shape with a hard pencil—your sketch lines were light, but you wouldn’t want them to be too noticeable if it were to be a completed piece. After getting the basic shape you began with his torso, measuring his broad shoulders with a thumb marker on your pencil as you held it out to him.

He watched you jot down quickly on your paper pad, watched the way your tongue would peek out to swipe across your lips, watch the way your brow would draw together when something was just a little bit off, and the way your leg bounced as you focused. Your foot stopped bouncing, shoe hitting hard against the wood which almost jolted him as you reached your pencil out towards him again, unable to properly match the angle of his shoulders with the angle of his hips and the way you couldn’t match the curve of his back just right.

Johnny was definitely different proportions than you were used to drawing. He was much taller with much longer legs, much broader shoulders than any man you were used to. It was going to be a bit of a struggle, and you knew that, but you weren’t adjusted to just how much of a struggle it was.

He listened to the way your teeth clicked together as you thought, erasing and redrawing, erasing and redrawing. He listened to the way your pencil tapped the easel; the way your shoe clicked on the floor again.

“Not trying to tell you how to do what you do, but I think you’re trying to visualize what a body is supposed to look like, instead of visualizing it as just lines that go a certain way,” he spoke, just loud enough for you to hear. You didn’t want to admit—in all the years you’d studied art and taken art classes, that was the most basic of all basics when it came to drawing anything. Don’t focus on what it’s supposed to look like, just focus on the lines that it is.

“You’re right,” you replied and took a deep breath. Part of it in actually was that you were having a hard time looking at him without getting distracted. Taeil failed to inform you just how easy on the eyes he was and now it was coming back to haunt you.

You did your best to finish up the page of sketches, getting stuck half way in some of them and deciding to just move on and start over. You filled up a whole page with the same sketches here and there. It wasn’t long before you just had enough.

“I’m done for now. I’m going to step outside and get some fresh air. There’s water and cokes in the fridge, feel free to help yourself,” you mentioned to him, setting your pencils nicely back into their case before you disappeared through the door.

Thankful, Johnny stood from the hard wooden stool, able to stretch his legs again and retrieve a water just to mosey to the comfy looking couch on one side of the room. He plopped down on it, a little low for his liking, but did his best to relax. His bent legs were too long for the futon, and the only comfortable way for them to go was out. His knees spread further apart as he fell into his own mind. He wasn’t thinking about much, but it was enough to distract him for quite some time.

“Okay, I think I’m—Nope.”

The same second you came in the door, you were out of it again. Just seeing Johnny on the couch so lounged out was enough to make you scream. It wasn’t helping that you’d been single for who knows how long and any sight of an attractive man had you wild, but Johnny didn’t need to sit the way he was.

He scoffed which turned into a chuckle, having every idea what was going on. “How are you going to draw me with a shirt off if you can’t even stand me when I’m clothed?”

But it wasn’t long after that you collected yourself again. You came back in, this time without uttering a word and made your way to the fridge to grab water for yourself. You quickly twisted off the cap and took a long swig. “Okay,” you finally said, making your way back to your easel and flipped the page. “Mr. Seo, when you’re ready, please,” you commented, prompting him to get up from the couch with a raised eyebrow.

“Can I stand?” he asked.

“If that’s more comfortable for you,” you replied. “Just remember, it’s going to be a while.”

He nodded, setting his water on the futon, his hoodie following as he pulled it over himself. You wanted to audibly hiss at the sliver of skin that peeked out from under his shirt, the curve of his back from his hips right above his sneaky underwear had you looking away. Which was unfortunate, because a second later it was exposed for good when he peeled away his black tee as well, tossing that onto the futon before moseying back to the stool.

He planted both hands down on it, gripping it, showing off every curve of every muscle in those thick arms of his as he straddled the stool, kicking both feet up onto the rungs. “Is this good?” he asked you, totally facing your direction so there was no way he’d miss when you were checking him out this time, as he’d have to keep his eyes in your direction for the duration of the drawing.

Your mouth felt dry, your fingers were shaking. “I was hoping for something a little more natural,” you replied.

The way his thick lips pulled into a grin had you out of your mind. You couldn’t look at him, it just was self-torture. He shifted full rear on the stool but he still sat facing you. His arms crossed over his chest and head fell slightly to the side, pulling those luscious bangs out of his eyes. He gave you a questioning eyebrow raise.

“I guess that’s better.”

“Then let’s get started,” he smiled, eyes shutting as it was better to drown in his own thoughts and let the time pass than to be fully aware of how slow it was ticking by. But he still heard the same noises—your pencil tapping your easel, your foot on the ground, your teeth clicking, all ticks he found absolutely adorable.

He found himself smiling, biting his lip as he thought about you and how your hair cascaded down, shrouding your face in just the right manner; your eyes and the way they gleamed and glimmered; the way your lips moved when you spoke—it wasn’t so bad being here after all.

“Stay still, please,” your voice interrupted him and he tried his best to go back to resting face.

They were only thirty minute sketches or so, any position wouldn’t have felt too bad, not after assuming they were going to be close to two hours each pose.

“Don’t be weird, but I want to get a good pose of your arms, if that’s possible,” you said. Johnny had no problem moving the stool, letting his back hit the wall which still resided in good light and lifted both his arms to tuck his hands behind his head. He stood on one leg, giving his hips a sassy angle.

“Wow, okay,” he barely heard you mutter, but the fact that he could get to you like that was a victory in his mind. You went to work immediately, trying your best to focus on your pencil and paper and less on the way his eyes tore into you like a hungry lion.

Soon it became not long enough. Soon it became he was leaving already. Soon he as shaking your hand as you thanked him for his service after he had clothed himself and was ready to head out the door. He headed back to the apartment, ready to tell Taeil all about it and perhaps ask him more about you.

When he pushed the door open, it was almost as if Taeil was anticipating him.

“How did it go?” he asked as if he was Johnny’s mother asking how a first date when or his first day of school.

“She’s cute,” Johnny said and Taeil’s jaw dropped.

“I don’t think that’s what I asked,” he said, following Johnny into the kitchen as he raided the cabinets for a snack.

“It was fine, Taeil. Just business,” Johnny replied, pulling a box of crackers from the top shelf where only he and Doyoung on a good day could reach them. “Though, she did try to undress me before I undressed,” he laughed, moving Taeil aside to head back into the main room.

“What does that even mean?”

“It means she thinks I’m real easy on the eyes, catch my drift?”

“What are you—”

“I’m saying, if she’s interested, I’d like to take her to dinner. Capisce?

“Ca-Capi-Pea-shh?”

“If she asks for my number, give it to her; I swear sometimes you’re five years old.”

A week had passed since that day. Johnny was sitting on the couch as he normally was, Taeil had just gotten up to get something to drink when the younger noticed the elder’s phone light up. Curiously, he looked over. The name, he recognized. The message…

How come Johnny hasn’t…

He couldn’t see the rest.

“Yo, Taeil; you’ve got a message,” he called but Taeil didn’t reply. He checked for Taeil thoroughly, making sure he was nowhere in sight as he snatched the phone up and unlocked it, having seen him put in his password a thousand times to open the message.

How come Jonny hasn’t messaged me? You gave him my number right?

Johnny’s mouth fell open slightly, almost appalled. Taeil, that slimy little—he plucked his phone from his pocket, typing down your number quickly and locked Taeil’s phone, tossing it back on the couch as he heard the older male coming. It was just before he sat down that Johnny sent you a message.

All this time he was supposed to give me your number… and I just found out he was hiding it from me.

“Don’t hurt her, Johnny,” Taeil commented, not bothering to look to his phone or to the other male or anything. He just looked at the TV. “She’s very close to me, and I will be very upset with you if you break her heart.”

“Nothing’s even happened yet—”

“Johnny, I know you. You’re the type of guy she’s gonna fall really hard for. So, be careful what you do. I know there’s chemistry. She told me all about you trying to get her all flustered, ass,” he said, throwing in that last part for decoration.

Johnny chuckled, thinking back it probably wasn’t the best idea, but it was far too late now.

“I just want to take her out and see what’s up. I’m not the type to play games, Mr. Johnny–I–know-you.”

“Be good to her!” he called as Johnny rose from the couch, taking his phone with him as he went off to his room. A small conversation ensued between the two of you, starting right away with him insisting he take you out and you trying to reject, but ultimately it didn’t take much for you to fall victim to him.

It was less than a week later that he had you sitting across from him looking over a dessert menu.

He watched you, watched the way your hair fell into your face despite the number of attempts you gave to hold it back through all of dinner. You’d been playing with his hands nearing the end of dinner as he talked, so it didn’t seem all too unnatural for him to reach over and tuck that strand deep behind your ear. It had you looking up at him.

“What?” you asked after a couple moments of silence as he just looked at you.

“You stared at me plenty a week ago, I think it’s only fair that I return the favor,” he said, tilting his head as he talked to you, watching your eyes shift from his to his lips. Your tongue flicked out to wet your own, mostly subconsciously.

“Are you still looking for dessert?” he asked you. “Or have you found it elsewhere?” he teased with a flick up on his eyebrows.

“Leave me alone,” you teased back, eyes darting back down to the menu.

“I’d be happy to give you both,” he smirked, especially when you tapped his leg with your foot, a gentle but warning motion. You ended up ordering Crème Brule which Johnny insisted he didn’t want any of, but ended up taking a couple of bites off your spoon after pleaded glances. After that he quickly paid the check and whisked you out of the restaurant.

It was a casual date, so both of you were in shoes suitable for walking, which was ideal since Johnny was leading you every which way. He walked side by side with you, moseying to milk the most of your time together. His hands were nervously shoved into this pockets, your hands clasped in front of you, not sure what else to do with them.

“Can I hold your hand?” he asked you quietly.

“I’d love that,” you replied, listening to his large hand scrape against the denim of his jeans as he pulled it out, offering it to you and you took it upon yourself to lace your fingers with his. He swung your hand between the two of you which brought a soft blush to your cheeks just as you stepped into some tall grass. You’d arrived at a park.

“I know you gotta get home soon, but I just wanted to take you somewhere quiet for a minute,” he admitted, leading you over to a bench, allowing you around it first to take your pick of the best seat. He sat next to you with a tug on his hand, letting your laced hands rest against his leg as he sat next to you.

He was getting ready to start before you butted in, “Thank you, Johnny. For everything,” you told him, and it closed his slightly ajar mouth to bring it up into a smile.

“You’re welcome; thank you for spending time with me,” he replied as he looked at you. You glanced at his shoulder and he scooted over a little more, picking up slightly on your cue so you could lean your head against him.

“What do you think about a second date?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“I mean, do you see this going somewhere?”

You squeezed his hand and pushed a little harder into his shoulder. “If the fact that I’m totally comfortable with you like this right now isn’t enough, I don’t know what to say,” you told him. “I’d love to see you again,” you added.

“May I kiss your cheek?” he asked. You shyly lifted your head from his shoulder, enough that he could crane his neck just so far to place a kiss on your flushed cheek. You bit your lip, you cheek burning where his pecked you as you reached up to touch it. “Let me take you home,” he said. You didn’t have words to reply, just let him tug you to your feet until the two of you wandered in the direction of your place.

#johnny #nct #seo young ho #johnny scenarios #nct scenarios #i'm having flooding Johnny feels and I secretly want Shelby to come into my ask box and give me a bunch of ideas #fhdskajfhsjkafd #I'm not sorry #also this is a lot longer than I planned #but yayyyy #johnnnyyyyy #<3333333 #So much love for him #anyway I have to work tomorrow so goodnight!!!

50 notes · View notes

geekprincess26 · 7 years

Text

Four Weddings and a Blizzard: Chapter 2

Written for Day 3 of the Jonsa 2017 Summer Challenge hosted by @jonsa-creatives. I chose the “Fixations” theme.

“I never did get that girl’s fixation with flannel,” groused Jon Snow.

Sansa Stark grinned. “Come on, Jon,” she teased. “You’re from Wisconsin. Surely you understand the whole state’s fixated on flannel?”

Jon Snow rolled his eyes at her, and Sansa caught his lips turning upward for a fraction of a second before they reverted to their customary frown.

“Right,” he replied, “but she’s a lot more fixated than 99.9 percent of the state.” He gestured in the general direction of the lake for emphasis, as if the water itself would turn to flannel on cue.

Sansa grinned again. Her sister Arya had married Gendry Waters that afternoon on a plot of wooded land they owned in the forests of northern Wisconsin. It was the last day of August, and a hint of autumn had colored the breeze that had ruffled the bride’s hair into her groom’s face as they had spoken their vows under a white wicker arch in front of the lake. Gendry had outfitted his groomsmen, including Jon, in blue jeans and gray plaid flannel shirts at the behest of the bride, who had in turn chosen gray flannel shirtdresses for Sansa and the other bridesmaids. Arya herself had worn an enormous gray-and-blue plaid flannel sash over her plain linen wedding gown and tied a matching strip around her bouquet. The bridesmaids’ bouquets had been tied with strips of blue flannel, and the entire bridal party had spent the hours before the ceremony draping flannel cloths over the tables inside the white vinyl reception tent and tying pieces of flannel around Mason jars full of sunflowers.

If Sansa had still been in high school, or even college, she would have spent the day with her nose planted in the air and her classiest black heels fused to her feet. But she was years past high school, college, and a failed attempt at graduate school, and more than years past cringing at the sight of sunflowers paired with witch hazel or gray shirtdresses paired with brown hiking boots. For one thing, the black pumps would not have gotten her anywhere near the site of the family photo shoot on the mucky ground next to the lake, let alone through the entire photo session; and she could never have gotten this far away from the reception tent without her boots. Sansa, who had spent her first two and a half years after dropping out of the Master of Fine Arts program at the Rhode Island School of Design at a succession of temp jobs, was by no means ungrateful to have landed a secretarial position in the English department of the University of Pittsburgh six months ago. However, after four hours she had had her fill of hearing remarks, both innocent and snide, about what a shame it was for such a brilliant and talented girl as Sansa Stark to have to stoop to working as a secretary. Besides, she had not seen Jon Snow for some time, and she had promised Arya she would ensure that he did not spend the entire weekend apart from the ceremony holed away in his hotel room. Not that she would have blamed him entirely for holing himself away. For one thing, Ygritte, Jon’s girlfriend, had unceremoniously dumped him the day before they were due to leave New York for the wedding. For another, Theon Greyjoy, who was Robb’s and Arya’s most annoying friend and quite possibly the world’s least deserving groomsman, had made matters worse by greeting Jon straight off the plane by asking him if that meant they could go out chasing girls together all weekend.

But Sansa had spent two years holed away from the world at large after dropping out of graduate school, and she regretted it now; so when she had noticed Jon’s chair at the head table sitting empty, she had made her excuses to Arya, left the tent, and tramped a half-mile or so along the lakeshore. She had found Jon leaning against a rock, taking pictures of the setting sun with the ancient analog camera he’d carried with him for the entire weekend.

“Well,” she said now, “Arya is Arya. If she likes something, it just sort of becomes a fixation.”

Jon’s lips turned up much more decidedly. “Aye,” he agreed. “Remember when you were all helping me move to New York from Philly, and she was practicing her martial arts maneuvers on Gendry?”

Sansa, who could never in a million years have forgotten the experience or the expression on Gendry’s face as her sister had knocked him flat on his back for the hundredth time, bent over with laughter.

“Oh, I remember,” she said at last. “Or how about when you and she were helping Robb move me to Pittsburgh from Providence, and she spent the whole trip playing those God-awful tapes half the night because she wanted to learn Russian?”

Jon’s smile widened. “Right, with Gendry in the front seat the whole time,” he recalled.

“Poor Gendry,” they said in unison, and this time Jon actually grinned.

“Well, he’s stuck with her now,” he said fondly, and Sansa returned his grin.

“I heard she’s bribed the editor of the New York Times to use the word ‘FLANNEL’ as the answer to one of its crossword clues in tomorrow’s edition,” she answered, and Jon let out a bark of laughter.

“‘Arya Stark’s favorite wedding decoration,’” he said, curling the front two fingers of each hand in imaginary quotation marks, and Sansa giggled. Three years ago, when Sansa had left Providence with her tail between her legs, Jon had helped Robb and Jeyne move her to Pittsburgh, and on that trip they had discovered how much they enjoyed both the Times’s crossword puzzle and beating Robb at Trivial Pursuit. Ever since then, in between road trips – Jon and Sansa had driven with Robb and Jeyne from Pennsylvania to California when Robb had gotten his public relations job in San Diego, and Robb and Sansa had returned the favor when Jon had moved in with Ygritte – they had enjoyed trading puzzle hints and texting each other random odd facts, which had turned into longer chats about their everyday lives and favorite books and everything in between.

After a few moments, Jon’s smile faded, but just then a red beam from the setting sun snuck out around a layer of glimmering clouds behind the lake, and his eyes widened silver against the golden light. He positioned his camera carefully and began snapping away. Sansa smiled and fished her tablet out of her shoulder bag. She scrolled through the app screens until she found the program she wanted, then opened it and began swiping her fingers in myriad patterns across the screen. After several minutes she felt Jon’s eyes on her and looked upward. He flushed and gestured toward the tablet.

“I didn’t know you drew – on that, I mean,” he said. “Sorry.” His flush deepened; he had always avoided bringing up Sansa’s stint at the Rhode Island School of Design, and so had Sansa, who for a long time after its end had not so much as touched a piece of clay or chalk. Now, she only shook her head.

“No, it’s all right,” she said. “I haven’t been doing it for long. But I read about this program online, and it looked like it would be interesting to try. That, and my therapist encouraged me to try it.” She shrugged. “Plus, it’s not sculpture. Drawing was never one of my niches back in the day.”

Jon nodded intently; but his gaze was one of empathy, not pity, and Sansa’s chest, which had tightened as she spoke, began to relax. Not even Arya knew she had begun doing anything related to art again.

“Do you like it?” Jon spoke so softly that Sansa barely heard him. She looked up from her tablet and raised one eyebrow at him.

“The therapy or the art?” she asked. Jon’s face reddened as he gazed out over the lake, although Sansa could not be sure how much of that was due to the rays of the setting sun beaming scarlet through the clouds.

“Both,” he said. “I – well, if you feel like saying anything about it, and – I figured after all of this settles down – I’m thinking of moving out of New York, and it can’t hurt to talk to somebody impartial with different ideas.”

Sansa’s eyes widened, but she said nothing for some time. Eventually Jon turned his gaze off of the lake and onto her. He must have thought he had offended Sansa, for he looked crestfallen. She hastily strode to his side and put a gentle hand on his arm.

“I think it’s a terrific idea,” she reassured him, “and I’m not just saying that either. If it weren’t for my therapist, I don’t know if I’d have made it through this weekend. Don’t get me wrong; I’m happy as hell for Arya and Gendry. But I hate that this all makes me think of Joffrey, and I hate that I got so used to being with that scum that I fell apart so badly I couldn’t handle grad school without him, and I really, really – ” her voice caught an edge, and she cleared her throat – “really hate being Sansa the spinster secretary when my man-hating sister is starting her happily ever after, you know?” She shrugged and thumbed a tear away from each eye. “It wasn’t really supposed to happen like this.”

Jon nodded, and his jaw twitched. It took him a few minutes to reply.

“No,” he said at length. “It isn’t. Not that I get it exactly the way you do, but I do get it.” He sighed, and his voice grew a bitter edge. “You’re not supposed to be looking at engagement rings one day and get told you’re too boring to build a life with the next.” He leaned down, retrieved a rock from the ground, and tossed it vehemently into the lake. The ripples had not yet disappeared when Sansa realized that her hand was still on his other arm.

“You’re right,” she said, and Jon, who had just bent to pick up another rock, jerked around to face her. His mouth was set in a tight line; but Sansa had felt the pain of both Joffrey Baratheon’s presence and his absence in her life too acutely not to recognize it on another’s face, or to miss the layers of moisture glinting on the surface of Jon’s eyes in the last rays of the sunset.

“You’re right,” she repeated. “Sometimes you get a shitty ending instead of a happy one, and you end up being happy you’re a secretary instead of being horrified because you wanted to be a famous artist.” She shrugged. “Or a shitty middle. Or a shitty…something in between.” She squeezed Jon’s arm gently, and his whole body trembled when he exhaled. He took a step toward her, and she thought he might say something when the loud twang of “Cotton-Eyed Joe” echoed across the grounds from the direction of the tent. Sansa released Jon’s arm at once and nearly jumped out of her skin.

“Oh, brother,” she said when she could speak again. “She’s more fixated on that stupid song than she is on flannel, and – oh, shit!” She whirled to retrieve her tablet and throw her bag back over her shoulder. “That’s their first dance! And the next one’s supposed to be us, and – ”

Jon stared at her, bewildered. “Us?”

Sansa gestured at him to hurry. “The bridal party – next song – we’ll have to run!”

Jon’s eyes widened, but he retrieved his camera at once and turned to follow her. They raced back the way they had come, and burst into the tent not a minute after the song had ended.

“Oh, there you are, Sansa,” Arya said, and turned toward the head table. “Right. Bridal party – out!”

Chairs scraped, bridesmaids giggled, groomsmen took hasty sips of beer as they stood, and Theon Greyjoy gave Jon a very amused look.

“So, Snow,” he said, “I see it didn’t take you long to find a girl.”

Jon flinched at that, and Sansa swept to his side, raised her arm, and smacked Theon straight across the back of the head.

“You heard her,” she said and jerked her head toward the dance floor as Theon cursed and clutched his own. “Bridal party – out.”

She whirled around and marched to the middle of the dance floor, where the bridal party members were still shuffling to get into place – except for Gendry, who grinned and gave Sansa a high-five.

“I’ve been wanting to do that all weekend,” he muttered. “Guy’s a pain in the ass.”

Sansa found herself grinning back at him. When she turned around, she saw Jon standing next to her, rubbing the back of his neck.

“You hit a guy for me,” he said at last. Sansa did not know whether he was horrified or amused until one corner of his mouth quirked upward.

Sansa shrugged. “You hit a guy for me once at a wedding,” she replied. “I still owe you for that.”

Jon shook his head. “You don’t owe me anything,” he said gruffly. “Besides, that was Jory’s doing too.”

Sansa nodded. She had not thought of Joffrey’s attack on her at Robb’s wedding for some time; and when her memory had visited that night before, she had often struggled not to panic, let alone been able to bring it up to anyone aside from her therapist. But Sansa did not panic now, and Jon was not just anyone, and she took a deep breath. Then she smiled at him and nodded toward Jory, who was sitting next to Sansa’s parents with his wife Beth.

“Tell you what,” she said. “If we can both get through this dance without tripping over Arya’s sash, I’ll get all three of us a drink. Deal?”

Both corners of Jon’s mouth tilted upward this time.

“Deal,” he replied.

#jonsas7summer #jonxsansaff #jonsansaff #jon x sansa #jonsa fanfiction #game of thrones #my writing #multi-chapter fics #modern au #weddings #drama #angst #hurt-comfort

35 notes · View notes

apdo703 · 8 years

Photo

Assignment #3

Jamie Wiedmann

I really enjoy the rule of tenths because I love the drama of having a subject against a vast background, as I sort of did for Week 2’s assignment unknowingly! I think it works really well for scenery or larger subjects, but the drawback to that is you don’t always get the detail you would with a closer photograph. I also liked the framing technique a lot; it is so creative and lead to some fun photographs. I liked coming up with different ways to frame a subject, it also changes the way you might take a picture, such as the angle you take it from, the framing makes it look very realistic, like an image you would see in your daily life, looking through a crowd of people or a window.

Overall I found this assignment much more challenging than Assignment 2, but particularly the dynamic diagonal was the hardest for me because I didn’t quite know what would fall into that category and it was hard finding preexisting conditions or objects I could use to manufacture the diagonal shape. Also finding objects to photograph for the rule of tenths with a primarily plain background was challenging as well.

I disagreed with John Berger from the very first paragraph, as I had always considered photography to be a form of art. However as I read further to understand the main points of his argument, I found myself agreeing partially with him, but mostly disagreeing. Berger is not wrong that many more museums are dedicated to paintings, sculptures, drawings, etc. however modern art exhibits are becoming more commonplace. Additionally, even if the resulting work of art is not a photograph, people have been using photographs in art for decades. I also disagree with the argument that a photo is not unique. As we saw with our last assignment, lighting and exposure can alter an image entirely. The shadows, colors, and organization of the objects will never be the same again. Iconic photographs capturing scenes from history (riots, celebrations, performances) will never happen again. The angle from which the photograph is taken, how small or large the subject is, where the subject is positioned also make the image unique, as we saw from assignment 3. Yes, locations do stay the same and they do not belong to an individual (usually), a field or hiking spot will still exist tomorrow and hopefully a century from now, but the minute details that make a photograph unique do change. This paragraph also reminded me of a documentary my art philosophy class watched on Andy Goldsworthy. Goldsworthy goes out into nature and creates beautiful arrangements and manipulations with the objects around him but they are not meant to last, part of the beauty in some of the pieces is watching them be absorbed back into nature. The only way anyone besides him gets a chance to see his work is via photographs he takes. I agree the more something is done the less meaningful it becomes, however meaning is entirely subjective. 100 photographs of a child’s first birthday or a wedding or graduation are different from 100 photographs of a car or household appliances. Also, the beauty in photographing daily life objects that are somewhat meaningless is the fact that the photographer can make them beautiful using lines, focus, lighting and various other elements.

I understand where Berger is coming from when he says composition should not enter into photography, there are many aspects of a photograph that are out of the photographers control, especially when photographing outside a studio. In a painting, everything from the size and color of an object are under the painter’s control, in photography one must work with objects that already exist. However a photographer can have manipulation over many elements in a photograph. Just because composition is challenging or limited does not mean that it should not enter into photography, so I disagree with his statement. Being able to manipulate models, alter the arrangement of objects, is part of what makes photography an art form. By saying one should not be allowed to influence the image is not pointing out why photography should not be considered art, but simply ignoring or discrediting one of the reasons it already is considered art.

Prior to this assignment I mostly only took pictures when I was moved to, pictures with friends and family, pretty scenery or really good food. I like to keep my picture-taking spontaneous and try my best to capture the emotion of the moment then move on and experience it, before coming home and immediately looking at my pictures. I’d say I had a good mixture of unplanned photographs and planned ones. When I take pictures with my friends sometimes we choose where/how to stand, like if we are at a specific place or scenery, or where the lighting is best, other times there is not as much planning. When I am taking pictures of objects like food I do plan more, I usually consider the lighting and arrangement of the objects as well, although I often find the less planning and fussing the more I tend to like my pictures, which helped me notice that just because I can take unlimited photographs of an image does not mean that I usually do, as I often go with one of my first attempts, I do not take many photos of the same thing. I had always been aware of things like balance, perspective, symmetry, and so on, but I feel like they are easy things I often forget that could enhance my photographs even more. This assignment challenged me to think about all 10 basic elements before taking a photograph, and I was able to include more of them in my photographs. The assignment also made me consider things like the dynamic diagonal and the way space is broken up in the image and how that space is filled or not filled.

Rule of thirds: My subject in this photo was the book I was reading. I found an empty table and used the grid lines on my camera to line it up with one of the intersecting points. I wanted a fairly plain background to help the book stand out more, but I wanted a slightly visible pattern in the wood to create more interesting texture so the background was not completely solid. There was light coming in from a window that created a gradient effect where it was lighter on the side opposite the book, which formed a nice balance. I angled the book intentionally but wanted to keep the table straight. I took this photo from directly over the table looking down as opposed to straight on from the side because I wanted to show different shapes you get from a different perspective. Originally I put the image in grayscale because it enhances the effect of the light and the white pages of the book in contrast to the dark wood of the table, I also like that being in black and white unifies the elements of the image, making everything seem less distracting as I wanted to highlight the book itself. However after reviewing the document I realized my goal was to capture the moment of curling up with a good book and I think using the natural brown colors in the image conveys that more.

Rule of tenths: It was a rainy evening when the sun was setting and the lights were starting to come on in the buildings and I was actually driving home, but it looked really pretty outside. I was not going to use this originally because it turned out pretty messy, but the more I looked at it I liked the way the water on my windshield distorts the shapes of the buildings and the lights as well, it’s an effect that is harder to get by only using your phone. I put this one in black and white to enhance the lighting and in an attempt to create stronger, more defined lines due to the image being out of focus. My goal was to capture the setting of a dark, rainy city.

Diagonal: My subject was the houses and wires. I took the photo from my viewpoint where I was standing, slightly diagonally off to the side, to capture the natural angle formed by the houses, and use the wires, which were hanging at an angle to accent it. I placed the houses at the bottom of the frame to draw attention to the top half of the houses as well as the space and lines formed by the roof and wires. I put this image in black and white mainly because I did not like the color combination of the sky and the fronts of the houses, and by getting rid of the distraction of the colors the diagonal lines are more apparent as well. The sky was grey and cloudy so it caused the light to disperse and shine from the sky as a whole instead of one specific point like on a clear day, which provided a bright background against the buildings and dark wires. I also like the marbled effect grayscale has on the clouds in the sky.

Frame: I wanted to use a real frame to frame my subject but in a more creative way. So I stood in front of a plain background to make the subject pop more and held an empty frame out in front of me. I wanted it to look like a 3D photograph, like the subject is coming off the page, or out of the frame. I also put this one in black and white because the colors clashed, but also to highlight the shadows adding to the 3 dimensional feel of the image. I tilted the frame because it was more natural to hold it that way; I wanted to convey a more relaxed version of those famous portraits I’ve seen where the subjects look very upright. I was inside so I turned the lights up so it would mirror a photography portrait session with artificial lighting. Looking back, I wish I could have fixed the shadow on my forehead from the frame but I tried several angled and, because the light was coming from the ceiling instead of straight on, or various angles as in a photo shoot, it was hard to avoid.

Middle Placement: I liked the idea of using the sun in the middle because it was so condensed and defined, which has not been happening lately due to cloudy, rainy weather. I used the weather and time of day to my advantage because my goal was to depict the sunset and the nice weather in between several days of bad weather. I remembered that objects should be towards the bottom of the frame, so I put the sun fairly low in the image to help show the expanse of the sky above. While the sun is technically the main subject, the additional subjects, the road, trees, and sky play off each other to emphasize each other without distracting from the sun. The distance allows the viewer to get a sense of place and time. I took this photo straight on to get a realistic representation of what my view was from where I was standing.

6 notes · View notes

ottefoods · 5 years

Text

How To Limit Your Screen Time for Better Health (and 20 Things You Can Do Instead)

Photo by Constellate on Unsplash

Screen time with our electronics can be very helpful and help to make our lives more efficient due to increased information, apps, entertainment, and other things. But too much screen time can be detrimental.

There are several risks from increased screen time:

Limited Exercise and Outdoor Time – This is one of the main reasons my husband and I have worked hard to get our kids off of their electronics. When they’re playing games or watching shows, they don’t get outside. Our recent article about “The Health Benefits of Being Outside” highlights why we should be getting outdoors more. If we’re inside too much, we miss out on the grounding, relaxing aspect of being outside. We also miss out on valuable recreation time with family and friends. And we miss out on exercise and natural vitamin D from the sun!

Too Much Blue Light Exposure – Electronics emit blue light, which can disrupt our circadian rhythm. Our circadian rhythm is very important as it helps to control our sleeping and waking. When we disrupt the cycle, it can make it harder for us to get enough good sleep at night and make it harder to wake up for school, work or exercise in the morning. All of this can also upset our hormonal balance and it can affect our performance in daily tasks we need and want to do. Too much blue light exposure can also be bad for your eyes. If you need to be on the computer for extended periods of time, you can use blue light blocker glasses (I have an engineer friend who is on her computer a lot for work and uses these religiously!) You can also install apps onto your computer (f.lux is a great option) that turn down blue light at night.

Vision – As mentioned above, too much blue light emitted from our electronics can be problematic for our eyes. Some experts are concerned that too much blue light can damage the retina. This can have negative long term consequences.

Posture Problems – In many cases, being on electronics can cause us to hunch over, whether we’re on our computers or playing on our phones. Hunching over like this constantly can also affect other body dynamics. To mitigate this, buy a standing desk or a treadmill desk so you’re not hunched over while you have to work. You can also purchase a laptop stand to place on your table or desk, so you don’t hunch over while you’re on your computer. Kids can use these options too! And of course, limiting screen time helps immensely. Too Much Media – Many times, on social media or in the news, fear-based media prevails. While it is important to stay informed about current events, too much news can make us feel more anxious or fearful. Increased anxiety, fear, and anger can affect our health negatively and cause us to have a more negative outlook on life. If you feel strongly that you need to stay updated on current events, try to find a media outlet that publishes the news you need all in one place and then move on with your day. This will not only keep your off of your electronics more, but it will help you to get more positive, productive things done.

Screen Time Can Stimulate Dopamine – Screen time can actually be addictive and make it hard for children or adults to want to engage in real life, where things aren’t sometimes as stimulating to the brain. The more one uses electronics, whether it’s social media or video games, the harder it can be to break free from getting away from screen time. Stimulating dopamine TOO much with electronics can cause us to lose out on valuable relationships with our family and friends, as well.

How To Help Your Kids Stay Off Their Electronics:

Model Good Behavior for Them – Stay off your electronics. Although it might not seem like it, kids pay attention more to what we as adults do than to what we say or tell them to do. Engage With Your Kids and Family Members More – Engage with your kids by offering to play a board game with them or involve your kids in making dinner. Talk with your kids. Joke with them. Walk with them. Clean with them.

Limit Your Kids’ Screen Time – Set limits and be firm with them. Offer fun and interesting alternatives to screen time. And not only is it important to limit kids’ screen time; it’s also important to set nighttime limits on screen time. Make sure they get off of their electronics well before bedtime so the blue light doesn’t affect their being able to get to sleep. As you limit your kids’ screen time, you can gradually do it or do it suddenly – whatever works best for your family and parenting style.

Offer Positive Incentives – If you are able to, find ways to offer rewards to your kids for not being on their screens as much. It could be something simple like going out for a healthy treat if they are only on their electronics for a certain amount of time each week. Or it could be something more elaborate. Or you could limit screen time A LOT during the week and then give them a bit more time on the weekend if they stay off during the week.

Limit Access to Electronics – Keep your kids’ electronics out of their bedrooms. Not only does this help limit their access to screens after or close to bedtime, but it helps them to set the good habits of keeping electronics out of their rooms.

20 Alternatives to Screen Time:

Play Board Games

Go to the Library

Attend Local Plays

Play at the Playground

Cook or Bake

Go On Nature Hikes or Walks

Garden

Do More Arts and Crafts

Play Card Games (I keep an UNO card deck in my purse in case my kids need it for some extra fun and entertainment)

Build Things – My son LOVES Legos and so does my daughter! You can also use blocks, train sets, and other things to build with.

Play with Play Dough or Clay

Read More Books – I did this back in the day when we didn’t have easy access to electronics and life was GREAT.

Put Together Puzzles

Get Involved in School or Rec Center Sports

Take Rec Center or Community Center Classes

Go Swimming

Visit A Local Museum – Many libraries offer free passes to museums and some museums offer free days.

Visit grandparents or other friends or family

Do Crossword Puzzles

Write A Letter to Someone

Are there things you do to limit yours or your kids’ screen time? What do you do? What kinds of non-screen activities do you like to do?

The post How To Limit Your Screen Time for Better Health (and 20 Things You Can Do Instead) appeared first on Otte Foods.

#online store #natural foods #organic products

0 notes

travellingwithleoandzoe-blog · 5 years

Text

#7 Antigua & Lake Atitlán, Guatemala

Waving goodbye to Costa Rica was tough. Time had felt like it had been put on fast-forward. Guatemala, our next destination, had for so long sat on a distant horizon, yet with a screech and bump we were touching down in Guatemala City. With two weeks ahead of us, we knew we wouldn’t have the luxury of a lot of time, nor a car for added freedom, but we joined the backpacker trail ready and open for a new experience. The arrival into the country’s capital was a stark reminder of some of the safety concerns occurring in Central America’s most populous country. Security guards armed with pump action shotguns loomed in the shady doorways of shops and restaurants. It was a different feel to anything we’d experienced in Costa Rica, but that not to say it was all negative. The culture is rich, and you get a sense for it in an instance. Bold colours, traditional clothing, and grand old colonial buildings. The streets hum. Each corner overflows with steaming food vendors selling a range of culinary delights. Meshed into the mayhem are tell tale signs of a heavy alliance with the U.S. as we observed many a familiar logo dissecting through the bustling city. While the capital no doubt has many neighbourhoods worth exploring, pressed for time, we made our way on a direct path towards the town of Antigua for our first two nights.

The rip-roaring drive to our hostel, the Earth Lodge, lasted almost two hours. Once dropped off we stretched our legs and made our way down a long footpath towards the reception, as vehicle access to the door was impossible. It was one of the few places we’d pre-booked while being back in the UK, and for good reason. The lodge is part hostel and part avocado farm. It’s located in the mountains 6,000 feet above Antigua, and our room for the next two days was a tree house overlooking it all. If the views spanning across multiple volcanoes weren’t impressive enough, the place also boasts a number of amenities, from freshly cooked meals every evening, a new yoga studio, and an expansive open outside area with accompanying slack line, football goal, and sauna. What more could we need? We savoured a few cold brews to the sunset, before settling into some dinner time chat with fellow lodgers.

The view from the tree house was a memorable wake up call the next morning. Curtains have been purposely excluded from the room. However, appreciation soon became overshadowed by a wave of nausea for myself. What at first felt like a bad hangover soon materialised into something worse. We both knew getting sick was inevitable at some point during our trip, and here was round one. The day was a write off. Left bed bound for 24 hours, aside from getting up to be sick out of the tree house window on occasion. There are worse places to projectile vomit from I suppose. For Zoe, yoga was on the cards and a relaxed day in the fresh, open surroundings.

We departed the next morning regretting that we could not stay longer. We’re getting used to the coming and going nature of travelling, but this occasion felt particularly difficult. Our tight timings meant we couldn’t afford to stay another day. We instead made our way into Antigua town to catch a shuttle bus to Lake Atitlan. The lake was a destination high up on our priorities. Known for its tranquillity, spectacular sunrises, volcano hikes, and its characterful surrounding towns, there are endless things to do. We entered the largest town, and gateway to the lake, Panajachel, just before dusk. We squeezed through an entourage of locals who encircled our mini bus the moment it parked up. A bit of pre-visit research meant we knew to head straight to the pier and board a public boat, known as a lancha. Once the boat was filled, we parted ways to the nearby town of Santa Cruz, admiring the breathtaking views as we skipped along the glistening water.

Santa Cruz is one of the quieter Mayan towns on the island. It’s only accessible by boat and sits up on a steep hill away from the water. It’s home to only 3,000 or so inhabitants. It’s popular within backpacker circles due to one of the longest standing hostels on the lake, the La Iguana Perdida. Set up by a English woman who stumbled across the land when visiting to dive in the lake three decades ago, the hostel is now truly embedded into the lakeside and the local community. Exhausted from our journey, we took things easy on our first night, making friends with an American lady called Felicia, who gave us a ton of useful tips for van living in prep for our visit to the States.

We were keen to stroll to the neighbouring town of Jaibalito the next day. The path leading around the lake perimeter from Santa Cruz was not extensive. Every step was pleasant. The sight of the towering Atitlán & San Pedro volcanoes was ever present in the distance. We were accompanied on the trek by the hostel’s dog, Bolto, who led the way like our tour guide. Once we arrived into Jaibilito we bumped into a familiar face in Felicia who joined us for a spot of lunch. Bolto also came along and guarded our table. After a well spent afternoon, we spent the evening watching the clouds assemble in the distance. The day closed with a moody and powerful lightening show.

Our final full day on the lake was all about visiting more of the lakeside towns. Central to our itinerary was a lunch destination that sounded more like something you’d find on Lake Como than on a lake in the middle of Guatemala. El Artisano is a reservation only joint, and we teamed up with a few others from the hostel to book a table. The main draw was a cheese platter of twenty-odd different fromages made throughout Guatemala. All available at a fraction of the price you’d find back in Europe. Before heading straight to this mouth watering prospect, we first ventured to the town of San Marcos. The narrow path from the pier is covered in a flowery archway and the walls are adorned in street art. The village exudes a new age, artsy, hippy feel to it. It was a place we wish we’d stayed at. We settled on a coffee stop off, and wondered to an impressive hostel where we experienced the lakeside from new vantage point. The water at San Marcos is the cleanest on the lake, and we happily killed time watching a dog swim in circles chasing its owner.

The first stomach rumble of the day signalled it was time to move on for lunch. We flagged down a tuk tuk with a fellow Brit and rattled along the pot holed plagued road to the neighbouring town of San Juan. The meal lived up to all expectations. The selection of cheeses was remarkable and expertly listed by the head chef. We proceeded to work our way through the platter piece-by-piece like a board game, starting with mild creamier types, and snaking our way through to the stronger, more pungent stuff. We washed it down with few glasses of crisp South American wine, and left with that familiar fuzzy feeling that can only come from combining cheese and wine.

Our final stop off before heading home was the town of San Pedro. Known to be the liveliest towns on the lake. We arrived at a limbo time of 4 pm. Not too much was going on, so we roamed the quaint little streets and walked off our indulgent lunch before catching the last boat back. As we zipped along the laguna from San Pedro, we took in some final awe inspiring views in the late afternoon light, pinching ourselves that a place like this exists. The journey allowed us to get up close to some of the towering cliff faces, offering the opportunity snoop at the many impressive mansions nestled into the rock face. If you took a snapshot of such sights and asked someone to guess where it was in the world its doubtful anyone would guess Guatemala.

The lake never ceased to impress us throughout our time there. However, right now it’s facing many modern day problems that sound all to familiar. Since the 1950s, over population and growing tourism have placed a strain on the quality of the water. Levels of intoxicants are now at the worst in the lake’s history, and this is altering natural algae cycles, creating explosions in Cyanobacteria. In turn this is having a detrimental impact on the wellbeing of local indigenous communities who rely on the lake for food and drinking water. The lack of a water treatment center, since it was destroyed by hurricane Stan back in 2005 only exacerbates the issue. Awareness of such a merky reality is on the rise. Many local Mayan communities and long standing charities based around the basin are driving change at this critical period. A movement called Atitlán Sano is applying pressure and holding the ten municipalities to account for previous negligence. We can only hope that the combined efforts of such a movement succeed to preserve one of the most spectacular bodies of water in Central America.

We squeezed in one delicious Guatemalan coffee on our final morning, before listening out for the boat captain calls for “Pana Pana Pana!” Back at the lakes gateway, we boarded a bus back to Antigua. This time around we’d have a few days to explore the actual town with a bit more purpose. We also intended to use it as a hub to tackle a two day volcano hike in light of us not doing anything strenuous while being on the lake. Lake Atitlán was a dreamy introduction to Guatemala. We felt recharged and refreshed, ready for the road ahead.

#guatemala

0 notes

laurenborrelli · 6 years

Text

Lekkerrrr

When I moved to Boston 3 years ago, I got a text within my first 48 hours saying Kate and Daniel had booked a trip to visit the following weekend. The weekend of their visit, I distinctly remember Dan telling me he was interested in applying to University of Pittsburgh because of their study abroad program in Cape Town, South Africa. And then 3 years later he was attending that program through Pitt and I booked a flight to visit!

Dan is my childhood neighbor and 5 years younger. So I had to mentally prepare to be around kids that were barely 21 years old...AND tackle it as my first semi-solo trip. Not to mention I was able to use credit card points and fly for FREE!

Itinerary:

Wednesday, November 29th 2017: My flight departed Boston in the evening and I arrived at my layover destination in the AM. With a 9 hour layover in Munich, I ventured outside the airport to the Christkindlmarkt in the city center. With a full belly of sausage, one (ok two) gluhwein, and new cashmere scarf to keep me warm during the snowfall, I headed back to the airport nice and tired. Topping off with more hefeweizen (best type of beer to drink solo!) at the airport, I at least boarded verrrry sleepy for my 12 hour flight to Cape Town.

Friday: FINALLY arrived in South Africa around lunch time! Since Dan’s semester had just ended, the school let us stay there for a crazy affordable price. Would have been good to know that before we booked the airbnb in CBD...(theme with 21 y/o’s lol). A couple dead cockroaches in the kitchen and no central wifi BUT I had an incredible view of table mountain from my bedroom window. We spent most of this day booking tours / airbnb’s for the rest of the trip.

Saturday: We went to the Woodstock Market in the late morning. Half is local food vendors and the other half is local artists selling jewelry, household goods, clothes, you name it! Oh yeah and there was a DJ in the center right next to an aperol spritz station. I mean...what could be more perfect?!? Started with an amazing pour over and some stuff avocado. Then moved on to a spritz while I bought some awesome jewelry and a vegan leather clutch. I could have stayed here alllll day! And i probably spent less then $30 USD total. Then we headed to the central business district (CBD) to check out the Company’s Gardens. It is a beautiful public with a really awesome natural irrigation system for their vegetation. AND super cool mega sized whicker baskets as swings and tree houses. We grabbed fresh Juice on Long Street and ordered flights to try from brewery Beerhouse. A quick freshen up and we grabbed dinner on the waterfront meet up with some of his friend’s.

Sunday: Dan was super sweet in arranging a day to hang to check out the newly finished Zeitz Contemporary Museum of Art! It’s superrrr sick - a restored grain factory turned into museum. Concrete was cast around the old silos, which created a traditional deceiving form on the exterior. While the interior is just the reverse - a HUGE curvilinear entrance with a skeleton of a pterodactyl very Game of Thrones like in the center. A guy who worked in Dan’s study abroad office was a recent architecture grade from the University of Cape Town - so he joined us on our day of touring architecture! In fact, he is the one that told me there was a bit of an uproar of a British architect being selected for Africa’s first contemporary art museum. The attention to detail and design was immaculate in the city - makes it hard to believe there were no African-based architecture offices that couldn’t have tackled the challenge... We then checked out the watershed project. It’s an old industrial boat storage facility turned host for local artist vendors on the ground floor and communal “we work” style offices on teh second floor. Once again, a SUPER cool space!!! (BTW - this will be the theme of my architecture comments for this trip). The enclosed food market next door was a perfect stop for lunch. After walking around the waterfront some more, we made our way over to Camp’s Bay to watch the sunset. This area reminded me a lot of Southern California w/o the prices plus mountains in the background. Truly it was the most stunning sunsets I have ever enjoyed (and wth a spritz too!). Quite possibly my favorite day in Cape Town of the trip!!

Monday: It was a big weekend of activities for Dan so he slept in while I wandered around a bit on my own! Started with trying the world’s strongest cup of coffee at Haas Coffee (great I would only need one cup this morning!). Then went to the District Six Museum - which is a museum dedicated to the district segregated and then bull-dozed down during apartheid. Really heartbreaking but an excellent intro to how it has only been 50 years since this epidemic happened! To put into perspective, my parents were born before this happened (sorry for the age exposure mom and dad)! I then grabbed lunch and took the scenic route from the V/A Waterfront allll the way down to Clifton Beach. Stunning views, beautiful weather, and a good opportunity to see what South Africa’s non-working people are doing along the water at this time of day. They consisted of surfers, mothers and sitters pushing kids in strollers, LOTS of people running or roller blading, and a handful of “lookers” that suddenly stop what they are doing when you walk by. The beach is tucked between a bunch of wealthy homes in a pretty private location. A great spot to water-color the ocean crashing into seals on the rocks beyond! After much relaxing, I headed home for a quick change before Dan and I headed to hike Lion’s Head at sunset. An easy hike but the views are stunninggggg. Ended the evening with take-out of a Cape Town quintessential BFA (bacon feta avocado) pizza.

Tuesday: Walked to grab coffee in the nearby neighborhood of Rondebosch and then took a car to the beautiful, traditional Bo-Kaap neighborhood! Vividly painted stucco buildings line the streets and are very well preserved amongst the expanding urbanism surrounds. We took a cooking class with Cape Malay cuisine. The culture descends from Southeast Asian, but brought to Cape Town through the Dutch Indian Trade Company. So the cuisine has a interested blend of all three cultures - deep curry flavors with just enough spice for white people to tolerate LOL. Great day learning more about the history and making amazing, brand-new dishes! With very full bellies and a very strong sun overhead, we noodled to Camp’s Bay beach with a handful of Dan’s classmates. They were a bit of a handful and we had to lay on every piece of clothing so it wouldn’t get swept up in the immense ocean wind, but the views were stunning! We ended the night with trivia at a local bar. Luckily we had a couple South Africans on our team, so they were able to help us answer “what is the most played African song in foreign films.”

Wednesday: Dan and I headed to CBD to pick up a rental car for our trip outside of the city! We drove along swerve-y, cliffy edge road from Camps Bay, down through Hout Bay, down to the Cape of Good Hope! It’s basically a national park with...wild baboons roaming around! We went to the lighthouse at the Cape Peninsula and it was so windy I was scared to take my phone out in case it would fly away! Awesome perspective of the peninsula if you had a strong enough grip of the railing surrounding you!! I did a bit of hiking around the rocky cliffs while Dan and his friend Allie took lots of selfies around the water. We then checked into out ocean-front apartment in St. James that was so. freaking. BEAUTIFUL! Unreal views, unreal price, unreal sunsets/sunrises. Even got to see whales breaching form the balcony!! We finished the day by grabbing dinner and drinks from the great restaurant Tiger’s Milk in Muizenberg.

Thursday: I started with a sunrise run along a beautiful ocean-front path that went right by all the morning surfers in Muizenberg and the super man-made formed but naturally resourced ocean pools in St. James. We then hopped in the car for a morning snorkeling with seals, to only find the currents and wind were too strong. :( Instead we headed to check out the legendary warm-weather penguins at Boulders Beach. I grabbed some coffee, and a meat/cheese delicious hot-pocket style snack for lunch, and we headed the immaculate Noordhoek Beach. Bright white sand, turquoise water with minimal waves - never seen a more beautiful beach! So stunning and barren, for some very strange reason...maybe the large number of horse flies? LOL despite getting swarmed it was so hard to not want to get swallowed up in the beautiful vista. Even if I did leave with over twenty bites on my legs alone. We headed home and while those two napped, I walked down to check out the shopping in Kalk Bay. Also shops and the store owners were all super friendly - one woman’s husband photographs architecture professionally! After stirring them awake we headed to Muizenberg to watch the surfers at sunset and check out the infamous painted beach shacks. We bounced around at a couple out door bars before ending up at the great Tiger’s Milk.

Friday: Another sunrise run and yoga on the deck. I grabbed coffee at the super cute shop blonde + beard in Muizenberg, then we jumped in the car to head back to Cape Town. We moved into a different university student housing buildling upon our return...and this is the point where I decided it was worth spending the money for a nice apartment not in the college area of the city. We went to a natural watering hole only known to locals/students. Amazing views of table mountain and the water was super clean and hella refreshing. We grabbed dinner at an Indian restaurant close by then headed to drinks at Yours Truly on Kloof Street. My. Favorite. Bar. HANDS DOWN! Different DJ each level, awesome craft brews and cocktails, beautiful string lights and plants climbing up the terraces, super funky furniture, and people rocking all different trendy outfits. Dan’s friends felt out of place but I freaking loved it!! Finally I caved with how much they were itching to leave, and we grabbed Italian food down the block. We then stopped at their favorite 21 y/o hangout sgt pepper on Long Street and I hung on the smoker’s deck with Dan while his friends had a couple items stolen from them on the sweaty dance floor.

Saturday: Time for our wine tour! $60 for a round-trip bus to the infamous wine town of Stellenbosch. Tasting #1 included an array of cheese. Tasting #2 was in a beautiful outdoor garden. Tasting #3 tour of a cute farm where we tried wine from the syringe! Plus a fullll traditional braai (barbeque). Tasting #4 tiny little private winery. Tasting #5 pairing with Chocolate! Best part was bonding with everyone else on our tour!! An american couple on grad school holiday, an older couple with one descendent of Upper Saint Clair, super cool British couple my age, older British couple who have travel to 80% of the world, and a British dad with his daughter about my age who works in an art gallery. Great convos about how crazy Trump is but it humanized the U.S. to not be this great country anymore, to why haven’t I signed up to do bungee jumping yet, to you are crazy for staying with a bunch of 21 y/o’s up until now! Left with lots of souvenirs and great memories!! Brought my stuff to my new adorable apartment downtown and crashed during the sunset while watching elf on Netflix.

Sunday: Headed out solo to grab coffee/breakfast and then check out the Castle of Good Hope. Strangely enough there was a cross fit competition taking place in the main courtyard, so that was a bit entertaining to peak at in between taking in all the history. It was a dutch fort along the East India Trate Route to Indonesia - but more specifically acted as the home base during teh British invasions. Free tours are given by of the military museum and the inter-workings of the castle which turned out to be very light and engaging! I think picked Dan up and we went to the Kirstenbosch botanical gardens. Amazing variety of wildlife here and a good chance to hang with Dan one-on-one. We went to Moju Market and drove by a crowd letting out for the Springbok Rugby game. Now those fans where some crazy costumes! The market was superrrr lekker (va bene in Afrikaan). There was a station for trendy oysters, a “salad bae” stand, local wines shop, curry shop - everything plus an elevated ocean view. Awesome way to fuel up before Dan and I conquered a Table Mountain hike the next day.

Monday: I grabbed breakfast at the adorable Skinny Legs cafe and then coffee and beans at Origin Coffee Roastery. Both make my mouth water thinking about them (and their beautiful interiors too!). Then when to meet Dan at Kirstenbosch, where the beginning of our hike up Table Mountain began. Started pretty steep, up wooden ladders in woodsy areas. At the top we stumbled upon a completely barren water source. It looked to be a collection spot for a small reservoir. The water was unnaturally a rainbow gradient and was in a bit of a small canyon - making it seem like people were going to jump out at any moment like the hunger games. We randomly heard a siren here too, making us jumping in our pants even more! We then continued along the top of table which is mostly huge boulders - but it started to get windier. We soon found that it was too windy at the top for the gondola to take us down! So we had to bare the exposed edge by foot! This was seriously soooo hard because any time we would hear a huge wind gust coming, we would have to duck and hold onto any possible branch around us. Took a while it felt such a rush of accomplishment as we ate at an Indian buffet afterwards!

Friday: Last day! My flight was leaving in the evening, so i tried to squeeze in as much as I could! Morning at Clifton Beach then lunch of mussels and a glass of chenin blanc at the waterfront with Dan. Was able to do a little shopping at the artist in the waterfront too - most sold awesome sustainable home goods too! Probably did the most shopping / consuming of good food/drink this trip - but thats because it was all my style, amazing flavors, accessible, and reallllly affordable! I’m already counting this as one of my top 3 favorite cities and I can’t wait to go back and visit!!!

What brought me excitement:

Design Aesthetic: Yes the city is BUMPING with architecture, both new and old. Now this may sound crazy, but when i walked into a basic enterprise office in the CBD, something struck me. I followed the datum of the square floor tile, that then aligned with the line of small stair landing, that then aligned with the rectangular wall base, that then aligned wth the curtainwall mullion. MY JOB IS TO ALIGN FINISHES FOR A MUSEUM! How do these simple alignments just happen in the least design conscious interior spaces?! Still blows my mind the attention to detail and craft the culture just exudes. And it is oh so clear in every interior of every store, restaurant, coffee shop, boutique, refurbished space. Really inspiring as someone in the design field!! Nothing boujee or over the top either, all very minimalist, modern, simple, earthy designs - amazing!

Cultural Blend: My first day at the beach, there were a bunch of middle school age kids that all playing soccer together. A girl in a hijab kicking a ball to a blonde haired boy kicking to a black boy . The integration of the future generation was so heart-warming to see it made my eyes ACTUALLY well up! I’m not kidding too!! It’s location is an ideal spot for not just europeans on holiday, but a great stretch of immigrants from the middle east and asian as well! I can’t wait to come back in just 5 years and see how progressive it will be!!

What left me uneasy:

White Guilt: Learning how recent apartheid and many racist epidemics had occurred, it really left a sinking feeling in my stomach. I felt guilt vacationing here because I didn’t want any locals (no matter their ethnicity) to feel like I was taken advantage of their home. I didn’t want it to seem like I had some money to spend so I was creating a larger economic divide and taking anything away from the locals. It was probably the biggest guilt I have ever felt, even though it wasn’t me personally who had done those hurtful injustices. But it is up to me to stand up for those that are still getting hurt today. It certainly empowered me to not bat an eye and turn a shoulder when something is happening you don’t believe in.

Water Crisis: At first I was wondering why toilet’s in the student housing were never flushed! Then i realized it was to preserve water. They were in a serious crisis and I didn’t fully understand it still we were at our airbnb in St. James. I remember standing at the sink washing my hands, looking straight ahead at the 180 degree ocean view. After drying my hands, I stepped on the balcony to take in the view even more. A line of people about 100′ away caught my eye and I realized they were waiting at a public water source. The government has shut down water to certain neighborhoods - unfairly. These people weren’t stumbling out of overcrowded buses - they were coming with buckets out of private cars in nice clothes. I felt sooooo guilty that I had a water source right here yet these people are waiting for this small spigot down the street. Would the airbnb host downstairs be pissed if set a couple of buckets of water outside for these people? But also, how could the host bat an eyelash and not be wanting to do the same thing? This tore at my gut throughout this entire trip.

Safety: Cape Town is a very walkable, and even bikable city! Unfortunately i didn’t realize how much I had to worry about safety even during the day. I do look like the native Afrikaan, as many people spoke it to me before I spoke English back. However, I think the economic divide is still too much for there to not be some animosity between the various parties. It made me feel a little limited, that I couldn’t safely take the public train to the beach or rent a bike along the coast - all things I take for granted in my day to day life.

0 notes

georgieandgreg2 · 7 years

Text

Paris, Day 3: Musee d’Orsay, Sainte Chappel, Paradis Latin

Friday morning, our first target was the Musee d’Orsay, another one of Paris’ great art museums. The building was originally built as a railroad station serving the Paris Exhibition on the nearby Champ de Mars, where the Eiffel Tower stands. It was since converted into a museum, its high glass roof filling the building with light.

Frankly, in my opinion, THIS is the museum to see. Since its collection is limited to artworks created between 1848 and 1914, what is on display tends to be both beautiful and accessible to most viewers. The d’Orsay has the most extensive collection of Impressionists and post-Impressionists anywhere, an extensive central statuary hall, and rooms full of interesting other collections. I was particularly taken with the cutaway architectural model of the Palais Garnier. Having been recently reminded of Orientalism as a style, we were interested by the galleries of richly colored paintings of Egypt and the East. There was an amazing temporary exhibit, The Spectacular Second Empire, concentrating on the art, decoration, and style of the 1850’s and 1860’s, when Napoleon III and Eugenie were rulers of France.

The museum also houses a pleasant café on the fifth level, where we got lunch, which on my part was a very good Quiche Lorraine, (this time, not blackened--). The café sits behind clock-face windows left from the building’s days as a railroad station, and made us think of the movie Hugo.

After that, we strolled along the Seine toward the Ile de Cite, making note of the famous booksellers’ stalls along the way. These essentially consist of steel lockers bolted on to the stone balustrades overlooking the river, and range from attractive and extensive displays to one, apparently untended when we went by, that was scarcely distinguishable from a rubbish tip. The average stall seemed much like any used booksellers stock, old paperbacks and old magazines, with varying areas of specialization, and what is kitsch and what collectable of course in the eye of the beholder.

We got a very good look at the fascinating variety of river craft docked along the Seine in the middle of the city, everything from strictly industrial barges, fancy houseboats, sailing craft with intricate collapsible masts, boats that had been transformed into floating gardens, and some that looked like the nautical equivalent of gypsy caravans or hippie communes.

On the Ile de Cite, we first walked down to the park at the downstream end of the island, and then hiked around the Concergierie, Paris’ oldest palace, once the prison of Marie Antoinette, and now the headquarters of the Gendarmerie, France’s militarized police. The Concergierie surrounds the Sainte-Chappel, the building built by Saint Louis to house his collection of relics of Christ, which included the Crown of Thorns, the Image of Edessa and some thirty other items. Louis purchased his Passion relics from Baldwin II, the Latin emperor at Constantinople, for the sum of 135,000 livres, though this money was actually paid to the Venetians, to whom the relics had been pawned. The royal chapel was built in a version of Gothic style known as “Rayonnant,” a very airy style, and is famous for the fifteen huge stained glass windows, which date from the 13th Century. A restoration completed in 2014 succeeded in removing ancient layers of grime and soot while preserving the windows’ amazing jewel-like colors.

After that, we got some of the famous Berthillion ice cream at a sidewalk café. I tried the vanilla, which was a gold color, very solid and good, with specks of vanilla bean visible. Georgie tried the Cassis, which was a deep dark purple, more like a gelato than ice cream in texture, and with a very intense fruit flavor.

We walked around the back side of the Cathedral de Notre Dame, and across the bridge to the Ile de Saint-Louis, which is a neighborhood, mostly residential, all to itself.

When we got tired, we went back to Rue Caumartin, and had dinner again at L’Olympia, and rested up a bit before venturing out for the evening.

I had come across reference to the Paradis Latin show on the Viking website, where it’s recently been added to optional excursions if you have the three-day extension in Paris. It’s a “Lido” type of nightclub/review. The website looked intriguing, and, figuring that, if it was up to Viking’s standards it had to be OK, I had booked us a couple of tickets on our own. We’d decided to pass on the dinner-and-a-show options, and got tickets which got us a seat for the review and a glass of champagne each.

We took the Metro from the Place de l’Opera to the recommended stop with no difficulties, but things got a bit tense from there. Paris uses the same slapdash method of marking intersections as London or Dublin, and the neighborhood we were in had no street signs whatsoever. I had brought along the minimal map provided with our tickets, but the other street maps we had were pretty small scale and not much help (I had bought good street maps for both Dublin and Paris, which got mislaid and not packed.) We oriented ourselves as best we could, followed what appeared to be the main street, but had just about decided we were lost when, looking around one more corner, we saw the club’s brightly lit marquee.

We passed a security check here, too, conducted by some jovial men, who, despite their suits instead of uniforms, and lack of obvious weaponry, struck me as some of the most formidable guards we had encountered. We checked coats and got ushered to seats, which initially had been off to the side, but we shortly got shifted to a table in the back with a good view of the stage, which was nice.

The club had been doing a “warm-up” during the dinner phase of the evening, but the review proper started shortly after we had gotten our new seats.

We’d noticed on the website that some of the pictures indicated that the show ran into the “naughty” range, but I was a bit surprised the opening number included topless dancers. I had expected they’d make us wait for that feature. What followed was a quite enjoyable performance of song, dance, and comedy. It was not great, perhaps, but the performers worked really hard to sell it, and make it friendly and fun. The dancers (male and female) were attractive, the dancing quite good, and the dance numbers cute and clever. There was a folksy M.C., and a lead chanteuse (who I think was lip-synching herself, but was good at it). A young slim black man was the house comedian, and did bits including an impression of Josephine Baker in her notorious banana skirt outfit. One of the best bits was actually a juggler, who performed some really difficult juggling and balancing feats while on a high unicycle.

I was really intrigued by the staging. The stage itself was not large, but the crew managed to put up and remove set pieces like a full-size functioning merry-go-round in minutes. They also made effective and interesting use of video projection and lighting. This show, along with Eliogabalo, made me realize that LEDs have really made huge changes in what can be done with stage lighting.

The crowd of mostly tourists and a few French, enjoyed the show, and so did we. I would have preferred a bit more “retro” and a bit less “disco,” but with venues like the original Lido and the Moulin Rouge to compete with, I understand the need to be contemporary.

We retraced our steps to the Metro station with no difficulty (backtracking is one thing I am usually good at--) and back to our rooms for the night. We got back a bit before midnight, just as we had with the opera.

0 notes

blueanddeepblue · 7 years

Text

How do you write everything? How could you sum up the breadth of experience in one fell swoop? How can you pass on what it's like in the moments before dark, hurling down the highway in a metal can with rubber wheels, paying heed to nothing in particular, when the sky in front of you explodes in liquid color, every hue of orange and pink and red and purple the the mind will allow? Can you really explain the sight of such a thing? How it takes your breath away and leaves you in a twisted heap of nothingness out by the forest road? How it unhinges you and sends you careening foolishly out of orbit, like an astronaut untethered out in empty space, knowing that such a view will never be seen in such a way ever again? Most forms of art attempt this careless undertaking: to somehow against all odds capture the essence of a thing, to attempt pinning down that by which definition must remain elusive. Sometimes art tries to replicate the world outside, tries to mirror the world around it, or frame it in a way that provokes thought. But the great art, the stuff that moves me, is the art that leaves me gutted by its immensity, by the bigness of the questions it makes me ask or the longings it stirs up, desires deeper than I knew I could go. But can you write everything? Dylan says the answer is blowing in the wind, and Rothko drove himself mad trying to transmit form, space, and color. Mostly, in the ten days since the eclipse, I've read Annie Dillard and watched birds or played guitar, stringing together campsites in Tennessee and the Carolinas. Birds are decent company, but Dillard is where it's at. Here, she captures the total eclipse experience much better than I tried to last week: "Seeing this black body was like seeing a mushroom cloud. The meaning of the sight overwhelmed its fascination. It obliterated meaning itself. If you were to glance out one day and see a row of mushroom clouds rising on the horizon, you would know at once that what you were seeing, remarkable as it was, was intrinsically not worth remarking. No use running to tell anyone. Significant as this dread sight was, it would not matter a whit. For what is significance? It is significance for people. No people; no significance." I've tried my hand at art. I've dabbled in music and writing and photography, in trying to share something of importance with people outside of my immediate circle, but really in all these things I'm an amateur, a hobbyist, one singular phytoplankton bobbing through a droplet of all the art the world has ever known, with the world itself, in all its forms, the accumulation of oceans, seas, rivers, and lakes. But what did it look like, when the first ray of sunlight came over the horizon, the first time someone realized that they were racing towards an exploding star? In high school my sisters and I would sit out on the trampoline into the night and bounce questions around like bingo numbers, pulling ideas into focus and then tossing them back. Part of my religiosity during those years was due to Christianity's attempt to answer why we ended up here in the first place and what were supposed to do about it; while I don't believe or practice anymore, I still think the best forms of religion seek to wrestle with these questions as opposed to administering prescriptions. But there it is again; how can the marsh be such a color of green? Why does blurring your eyes in a forest at dusk look the same as the vast emptiness of a West Texas sky? Or how can owls fly so silently when ravens whoosh like vacuum cleaners? How hot is it there in the middle of that fire, right there where it's white and blue? Is that color, there in the fire, the same as the sound at the beginning of the universe? These are the questions I can't possibly answer, but I want to try to ask. These are the people I'm drawn to. ----- Two days ago I watched a looper climb an invisible rope up into the canopy. I lay down on the picnic table and used my binoculars as the inchworm wound the invisible rope up into a ball, writhing and contorting himself like an epileptic in a fit. When I first noticed him (and because my morning hikes have been a cautious and ceaseless exercise in attempting to avoid web to the face or an accidental spider breakfast), I at first thought he was caught in a spider's lattice and trying to escape the inevitable by thrashing his way free. His precarious position, between nothingness and seeming nothingness, was in fact defensively strategic. Loopers sense vibrations as they're feeding, and merely being a worm and thereby one of the forests chief protein sources, they are equipped with what can be seen as either a severe shortage, or a few surprising survival tactics; if the vibration signals bird, they often freeze, and hope that their camouflage provides them ample cover, but if the vibration signals predatory insect, the worm throws a silk line and abandons ship, using a longer silk line if it senses a wasp and a shorter one if stinkbug. I watched him climb all the way to the top. He'd pause every so often, presumably to rest, but that is a human assumption. I'm not certain if his task was as arduous as it seemed from my supine vantage point. I thought of Alex Honnold free-climbing El Capitan, and wondered if that was somehow comparable - the inchworm ascending something near 250 times his own body length, in the course of 20/30 minutes. Or maybe this was more akin to an evening commute, the long drive back to the suburbs after a day at the office, a rote task performed simply because the day was nearing completion. Certain wasps have learned that inchworms use this evasive maneuver and have adapted to scour the foliage and find the silken thread, pulling the hapless looper up like a trout at the end of a hungry fisherman's hook. ----- In the waning years of graduate school, my friends and I would don goggles and scour the crystal clear waters of the San Marcos, searching for salamanders and sunfish among the rocks and aquatic wild rice or hunting the invasive suckerfish with spears. When the water level was flowing low enough, I could muster enough courage to explore below the waterfall below Spring Lake, the river's headwaters. I remember John, my roommate at the time, swimming beneath an underwater chandelier made of moving crystal that was ever-changing. I remember the still water beneath it and how the fish were unperturbed by the currents above, how the water down below was calm blue, but how the surface foamed white and would sweep you back downriver. I remember taking it all in until we couldn't hold our breath any longer, until we were forced to admit that this world was not for us, that we were merely visitors, intruders in a place where the magic was beyond our grasp. I remember how John, too, even after he died, held his own magic, in the way that each of us holds our own magic. If only we'll let the sun wake us up, if only we'll unhinge ourselves enough to swim and dance and run with a child's abandon. If only we'll make the climb. ----- The forest is a dizzying place. Growing and dying all in one breath. The geometry is all wrong. We walk along the ground of the forest, but the real action is vertically oriented. The White Breasted Nuthatch scampers up and down trunks looking for easy meals. Squirrels chatter and squabble across highways from tree to tree. Cicadas climb up to shed their skin and mate. I tried to calculate the amount of surface area that exists above the forest floor by laying there in my hammock and imagining a 25ft section of forest laid down and flattened out, every leaf and branch and trunk of every tree in that small section of woods; what goes up and down dwarfs what can cover the ground. Everything green or brown racing towards light. A twist here because a larger tree blocked the way. The fallen warriors who grew taller than their canopy could afford, and the starting gun that their toppling signals for every smaller sapling hoping to fulfill a grander vision. Fall webworms make dirty silken tents where they live and feed and defecate and molt through their various instars on their way to becoming a white moth. Each branch or twig, previously laden with leaves but covered with the caterpillars' silk, takes on the resemblance of a ghastly circus tent, a mummified freak show of wriggling, living, hairy animals with decayed leaves and pieces of the webworm's previous instars strewn through the webbing like floating skulls and withered apparitions. I poked the tent with my knife and watched them squirm over strands away from the opening, deeper into the dragon's lair. The tent itself is visually similar to that of the tent caterpillar, which is in fact, also a moth, but who emerges in early spring and seems to be the cleaner of the two pests, using their tents more like a home, which they build with various rooms that the morning sun warms to varying degrees, insulating them and helping them digest their food, which they cannot do unless it's warm enough. Some researchers have noted a 54 degree difference between the inside of a tent and the forest air surrounding it. Tent caterpillars, as opposed to fall webworms, leave their tent for feeding, excreting pheromone trails behind them like ants to let the other caterpillars know when the good grazing has been found. Because they merely eat the leaves, webworms and tent caterpillars don't do any damage to the trees outside of offending our expectations of what a good, honest tree is supposed to look like. It's impossible to be bored in the forest. It is quiet, and you can slow down to a crawl, but boredom won't find you. Stare at a phone all day, read the news and flip through pictures and articles and like people's posts, and boredom will come for you, an aggressive boredom, the kind that makes you want to toss the screen against the wall and yell "What am I even doing?" Lay in a hammock and look at trees all day and boredom won't find you. Instead you'll be dizzy. ----- Dillard writes that there are two types of waking up; one is like a photographer or painter paying attention to all the minutia of light and framing and subject, honing in on the world around them and examining with scrutiny every detail that can be absorbed. The other type of waking up occurs when you let go of thought entirely, when you step into the flow of the world around you, thoughtless and alert, empty and aware of anything but self - then, you'll awake to have your lungs sucked dry at the sight of an egret flying across a blue sky. When you find someone who wakes up everyday, stay near. ----- Today I'll meet up with Alexis, ending the solo part of my journey. The respite has been nice, albeit sometimes lonely, as solitude often is; however, I'm drawn to exploring new landscapes with this wonderful woman. There are new secrets the world waits to reveal, and old stories that conjure up deep magic. I remember climbing a hill with her and watching the Perseid rain stars down and how each burning rock opened a chasm in my soul, how the bigness of the sky was pierced by the intensity of each question we asked each other that night, how we pricked holes in the fabric of the universe. I remember so many things. Waking will help you remember. LIke the time we walked along the top of a plateau where Native Americans had written petroglyphs on the boulders and the sky held the smell of rain, and we looked for rocks to see if we could hear their stories. Or walking through the neighborhoods of Austin with the sky electric and lightning in our teeth. Now, we both sit on the edge of a transition. And these few months of travel are as much about looking closely as they are about letting go. And I feel incredibly fortunate to be able to walk into this next phase with trust and understanding, with someone whose capacity for beauty holds no limits. ----- Emerge from the forests to find the sky. See the swoop of brilliant white against the green of cord grass and how the blue of the channel is different from the blue of the sky. See how the sunset plays with the boundaries of physics and time, making the water a kaleidoscope snake, but wait, now it is an inky eel. Hear how the kingfisher chatters like the brash ruler he is and smell the morning dew on the Palmetto. Climb even though it is dangerous, even though you have no silken lifeline. Ask to be torn open like a new day, to be opened like a gift for a child, to be woke and woke again. And again.

0 notes

mcp-ethnography-blog · 8 years

Text

Field Notes for First Essay

Troy Kitchen

I showed up around noontime and opened the door to see the rest of my class sitting and taking jottings. Many of my classmates were talking and some were getting up to buy food. It was seemingly peak lunch time so I thought it was weird that the place wasn’t busier. With the exception of our class, there were only a handful of small groups there. This could simply be that a lot of people are taking their food to go; it’s a weak but steady stream of people making their way through. Ambient music was playing, the type that’s meant to go on in the background, with no words. As I looked around to get a sense of the demographics, it was clear that Troy Kitchen caters more to the younger crowd, having generally accessible prices for students and middle to low income 20-30 year olds (didn’t see a lot of families there, but it was also a school day). There was no single predominant race represented; it was a pretty even mix of everyone (also reflective of Troy’s demographic). As there were many places to buy food and generally not many people coming in to eat, many of the employees behind the counters were yawning, staring outside, talking with one another, or just looking bored. I can’t say I blame them; smaller businesses like these probably don’t have many employees and as a result have to work long days. People who come in to eat pause immediately after coming in the door where they take a look at all the options, then eventually pick one place to go to. The placement of their decision-making is unfortunate for the coffee/bistro place that is located on the other side of the entrance/exit doors. I suppose once they sit down they notice, and if they want coffee they’ll go for it. I see the coffee shop employee bringing hot drinks out to two girls sitting down. The rest of the shops don’t do table service. As I look to the even more desolate side, I see some pretty neat wooden designs on the bar (which is currently unoccupied). The wooden designs (made by the owner) are a real conversation piece, and I would say it attracts people to the bar. Also on this side is a stage, which is for late night performances. From previous knowledge, this place is actually more popular at nighttime.

Spill’n the Beans

I entered Spill’n the Beans around 1pm, and there was no line to the cash register. I noticed the many different types of coffee available, as well as the various desserts in the display case. I ordered simply a coffee, and because I did not specify, the cashier recommended the standard medium blend. I’d say this girl was in her mid twenties, also caucasian. At Spill’n the Beans, you added your own half and half, sugar, etc. to your coffee. Somewhat separated from the cash register area was the main seating. Having been here for breakfast before, I knew this was usually pretty full in peak hours. There were only a few college age kids doing work on laptops, most of these with headphones in, and another group eating sandwiches. Once again, taking into account the time of day, most people may already be back at work, and others at school. So it made sense there weren’t a whole lot of people there. There was classic rock playing, this created a non-rushed environment. One of the girls who worked there went around bussing some of the dirty tables, gave us a smile. The main seating had tables for 2 and 4 people, and in addition to this area, there was also a section closer to the cash register with lower, cushier chairs and a fireplace. This is clearly an area meant for sitting down and hanging out. I could hear the prep chefs chopping what sounded like veggies, potentially for a sandwich or salad. There was a TV turned to some GMA-like show, though it seemed no one was watching. The setting gave off a somewhat industrial or rustic vibe, with old brick walls, metal art pieces scattered around, “hip” artwork along with old scenes of the streets of Troy. Not many people were coming in and out while I was there, but the people that were there weren’t leaving any time soon.

Mall Food Court

I showed up to Crossgates around 7pm, and it seemed like a pretty good time to see a diverse sample of people getting dinner. I sat down at a table meant for 2, there were many of these facing the rest of the food court. I looked around and saw a pretty ethnically diverse crowd. Many groups of people were eating at the 4 person tables - some groups of college-age kids (early 20’s), some young families, and one group that seemed like a couple developmentally disabled people and who seemed to be their carers. One boy in a wheelchair kept shaking occasionally and making loud groaning noises. Every time this happened, a lot of people would turn to look. The food court was very wide open, with Subway, Taco Bell, a hoagie shop, Wendy’s and two asian food places competing for lowest price (currently at $3.99). A common theme was quick service for grabbing a quick bite to eat. Some people stuck around longer than others but all of these food choices indicated to me that you were to eat quickly and conveniently to get back to shopping. There were a few people who sat down with their bags, others sat down alone. There were a few single seat countertop areas but not many solo diners were taking advantage, usually opting for the two person tables or some even at the four person tables. These people usually were buried in their phone, some had headphones in, and all of them had their head down facing their food. Typical mall pop music was playing, it’s not too offensive to any ears, and I assume is supposed to give a mass appeal vibe.

Dick’s

This shop was harder to get ethnographic research on because not a whole lot of people were walking through the store. And most of what I think is obvious is very deliberately thought out for a streamlined customer experience. As I entered the store, immediately through the doors were five or six clothing racks full of clearance goods. As expensive as sporting clothes usually are, this is a good way to immediately grab the attention of anyone who’s just shopping around, and maybe even enough to attract some people to the store. These clearance racks were by both entrances. On the bottom floor, you could find pretty standard ball sports, each corner or section all the way around the walls labeled by big letters “BASEBALL,” “LACROSSE,” or “FOOTBALL”. Training clothes could also be found, more toward the middle of the store. Big posters or signs with advertisements for top brands advertised intense looking athletes with catchphrases like “Protect this house” (under armor), etc. All an attempt at branding the products as the most effective, the most durable clothing for athletes to have. The aisles were all relatively wide, my guess would be it’s due to the relatively big/bulky nature of the goods sold. On the top floor, the categories were a bit more vague or obscure. They had golfing supplies and “OUTDOORS,” which covered fishing and hunting, and some camping/hiking supplies as well. On all the aisle caps they showcased the premiere products in that category, then they would put less expensive models further down in the aisle. They could be saying “this is what the pros are using, but you could get something a little cheaper…” Logically, they are stocked for the season, with more skiing goods than swimming necessities. There were a few other people in the store who looked to also be just browsing, a boy and his mother seemed to be looking at one prop target in particular but two other guys a little older than me were price checking some ski goggles. My guess is the floor staff don’t make commission, because none of them offered to help me in any way, instead they just tended to their business, folding shirts or straightening up goods in various sections.

Pizza DaVinci

My friend and I came here to pick up a bite to eat late at night, after arriving home from a racquetball tournament late at night. It was around midnight when I pulled up against the apartment building adjacent to the pizzeria. As we walked inside, I noticed the smell of fryer oil. The location is convenient for anyone on 15th street or Hoosick street. Being right on the corner by a stoplight, it’s easy enough to pull in here for a quick slice. The prices are reasonable, but when we walked in we noticed there was no menu posted. Only take-out menus in a stack by the register. There was a two-tiered rack of pizzas, about eight or ten total, meant to be sold by the slice. There was one drinks cooler by the cash register, and another two by the seating area. I could tell this place was optimized for take-out or delivery. I sat down to wait for my food and I noticed the light green walls with white trim. There were two doors to this place, with windows lining the walls. One door faced the speedway across 15th street, the other faced Hoosick street. While I was there, the delivery driver came in once to grab an order. A woman who looked like she might be pregnant came in to grab some pizzas and a soda (an order that she’d placed over the phone I presume). Also, a group of kids wearing RPI gear came in and ordered some slices of pizza. They sat down and talked about some of their other friends, and what they were planning on doing for the rest of the night. It was hard to put my finger on the nationality of the employees - either Greek or Italian, but there were about five of them behind the counter and in the kitchen. I could hear the pizza oven door open and shut every time. There was one employee sitting at a table looking at his phone. They seemed pretty relaxed most of the time, because there weren’t many customers to be attentive to.

Recovery Room

I went to the Recovery Room at 9pm on 50 cent wing night, and although I thought we were going off peak hours, there was still a 10 minute wait to get a table. I guessed this was because many students had 6-8pm class on Monday (in fact, that’s why we waited until 9). When we were seated, I noticed that nearly everyone sitting at a table was an RPI student. It makes sense that a good deal like 50 cent wing night attracts the college crowd, as most students are trying to save money for various reasons. The only exception to this one sided demographic was a couple of middle aged men at the bar. There is a lot of seating in the restaurant, and rightfully so, because there are many TVs meant for watching sports games. We mostly caught replays and different analyses or talk shows. There were remote speakers that could be tuned to different TVs, to listen to what a certain TV was playing. They didn’t have them out on tables, but I could see them on their storage rack. The lighting was slightly dim, maybe to contrast the brightness of all the TVs. There was also a small assortment of arcade games, possibly to distract the kids, and possibly to entertain adults waiting for their food. There were a lot of sports games, and that’s usually the type of friendly-competitive genre game you’d see at a bar. The people there were all dressed pretty casually, probably because they were college kids, but also because the sports bar scene attracts a casual customer base.

0 notes