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chazukekani · 3 years

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SPOILER ALERT

Here is the quick summary of the first 60 pages of Stormbringer that just revealed today.

Special thanks to Nika, Amir, and my discord server members for proof-reading!

— That is, the 169th possibility

— ‘You are late, my brother.’

Content

Prologue

Code:01 A programme with 2383 lines, just an idea from a group of researchers

Code 02: Dead people do not possess any form of emotion

Code 03: I want to observe Chuuya’s suffer as a human

Code 04: Grantors of disgrace, you need not wake me again

Epilogue

Afterthought

Harukawa Sango ‘Stormbringer’ Character Setting Gallery

Pre-prologue

Fate whispers to warriors,

‘You cannot go against the storm.’

Warriors whisper back

‘I am the storm.’

— Cao Zhi ‘Luo Shen Fu’

Prologue

It began in a forest at midnight. It was supposed to be a peaceful night, but suddenly a beam appeared in the forest. It’s a huge fire. The forest was on fire. People who lived in the village nearby ran to the forest to see what happened. It was a wrecked airplane that just fell from the sky. People used hammers to dig the airplane to see whether there are any survivors.

Suddenly, a man walked out from the airplane. He seemed fine, but the crowd was shocked.

‘Apologies for my courtesy. In accordance with civil society, I should introduce myself,’ said the man. He pulled out a badge on his chest. The badge was black and words on it were engraved with silver. One of the teenagers from the village read off the words on it

‘I am a detective from Europole (Europe Detective and Police Organisation), which I am an office equipment. Category number 98F78195, made by ability technician Dr. Wollstonecraft. The first ever humanoid computer that serves for worldwide police facilities. Code name is Adam, Adam Frankenstein. It is my pleasure to meet you. I should carry out my mission now, see you.’

Before Adam left, he asked ‘Do you know a person called Nakahara Chuuya?’

Code:01 A programme with 2383 lines, just an idea from a group of researchers

Chuuya couldn't see his dream. Everytime he woke up, he felt like he was in a swamp of mud. Today, Chuuya woke up in his apartment. Just like other’s morning routine, Chuuya took a shower, cleaned himself and left his home.

Chuuya was 16 years old. Since a year he had joined the mafia, Chuuya excelled in his job with the most outstanding performance, and was well recognised in the organisation.

However with all the money and status he got, Chuuya was not satisfied. The thing that he wanted the most was to know his past. Chuuya knew nothing about it. The earliest memory he had was being kidnapped to a military facility 8 years ago.

There was already a branded black car waiting for Chuuya outside his apartment with a group of men in suits and sunglasses. ‘Please go to the regular store,’ said Chuuya.

Chuuya was in charge of supervising the jewel/gemstone transaction within the Mafia and black market, which had been an important source of income for the mafia.

He arrived at the store. Before entering it, a gun was pointed on Chuuya’s head, while there was another gun pointed onto his chest. Bang! What a big sound. Yet there was no blood, but a bunch of colourful ribbons came off.

‘Congratulations to your 1st year since joining the mafia!’, said those men.

Today was the first anniversary for Chuuya joining the mafia, and his friends held a party for him. People who joined the party all belonged to the ‘young club’ of the mafia, which were all 25 years old or younger.

The party-planner was called ‘Piano Man’. He was called Piano Man not because of his black and white outfit, but his way of killing. He liked using the strings of piano keyboards and strangled people to death. Piano Man was very tall, his fingers were long and thin, and always put a smile on his face. He was by far the man who was closest to the position of the Port Mafia executive.

The second man who came to congratulate Chuuya was called Albatross, a man with golden hair. He was a teen that loved smiling and was very talkative. Albatross was in charge of the transportation aspect of the mafia, and was complimented as very efficient and speedy in completing the missions, and was currently living in the same neighbourhood as Chuuya in a high-ended area. He previously belonged to an organisation called ‘Wheelman’.

Albatross proposed a toasting, but Chuuya was not in a good mood. “Did you have a nightmare?” Albatross joked, but Chuuya turned furious after hearing the word ‘nightmare’. Everyone was horrified. ‘No I wasn’t!’ Chuuya shouted. When Chuuya was about to leave the shop, yet another man came in. He was holding a champagne glass, and on his other hand, he was holding a medical drip stand that had a drip injected into his arm. His name was Doc.

Different from other doctors in the gangster industry, Doc graduated in a Northern American university and was awarded with a Doctorate formally. Doctors were highly demanded within the mafia because members could not simply walk into regular hospitals with injuries that were caused by gunshots. Doctors in the PM were treated nicely and respected, thanks to the boss, Mori-san, who was also a former doctor. The reason why Doc became a doctor was because he wanted to get closer to God. ‘The more lives you save, the closer you get to God’ is the motto of Doc. The Bible once wrote that God saved two million lives, so Doc’s goal was to save a similar number of people, which was why he joined the Mafia.

Chuuya still wanted to leave.

“The first year was the toughest, so we need to celebrate that you got through it,’ a gentle voice said. It was a man who had an extraordinarily beautiful appearance. The first year of joining the Mafia was the so-called ‘Deadman Curve’, so a celebration is needed,” said Lippmann, the guy with a pretty face. The work of Lippmann was probably the most unique one out of all of them. He was in charge of the public relations of the Mafia, such as negotiating deals with enterprises, or having meetings with the government. It is more difficult to kill him than killing the Boss of the Mafia because Lippmann was also a famous actor, thus every single action he made would be reported by the media. Hence it was really difficult to get him.

Another man came in, and his name was Ice Man. Unlike Chuuya’s other friends, he was quiet, and wore a simple outfit. Ice Man did not show much emotion, and was low profile. His job was simple, to kill. He did not use an ability, guns or knives to kill. Instead, he used objects that were nearby to kill. Anything, regardless if it’s a pen, wine bottle or the wire of light bulbs could become a murdering tool, hence Ice Man could kill anywhere.

The gathering continued. Chuuya was gradually having a better mood, until Ice Man asked Chuuya ‘where were you born?’ Chuuya immediately grabbed Ice Man’s shirt, and there was such a tension among the guys. Piano Man then revealed that he knew why Chuuya was mad, because Mori told him about Chuuya’s past that he was just an artificial ability experiment that was created by the military. Hence Mori asked Piano Man to invite Chuuya into the younger’s club, in order to have a surveillance on Chuuya. Piano Man pointed out the reason why Chuuya was mad today because he was actually not able to dream. Suddenly, the tension was back. Everyone had their weapons already, but Piano Man took out a present for the 1st anniversary from his coat, and gave it to Chuuya.

It was a photograph, a picture of two people, and one of them was five year old Chuuya.

The picture was taken in an old village in the Western region, Piano Man said. The area was abandoned afterwards but Doc found this picture inside the medical record of the village. Lippmann then added that he had asked a woman to check all the military-related databases, in which she found out that the military once held a recruitment experiment in the Western region. Still, Chuuya’s friends were able to find the family tree of Chuuya, his school, his report card and his birth record. However, such an investigation must not be known to Mori because Mori thought that if Chuuya’s background remained a secret, Chuuya would not betray the Mafia.

Chuuya did not understand why his friends did this for him. Lippmann said because they were companions. He then proposed why not they name the younger’s club as ‘Flags’.

The Flags then went to a billiards bar. All of a sudden, apart from the six people playing the billiards, there was the seventh person who joined the game. He had long arms and legs, and of course very tall. Black hair with brown eyes, and was standing by the table seriously.

All of a sudden, Albatross used his Kulric knife and sliced on the seventh person's head, which produced an uncomfortable noise. Yet, that person escaped from the attack. A fight then broke out because the Flags thought this seventh person was an ability user, and suspected his intention for coming to the Mafia’s facility. However, Ice Man pointed out that this person was not an ability user, but the fight continued.

During the fight, Adam grabbed the legs of the table, and something grew from his hand. It was a small-scale dinosaur, that grew from Adam’s hands as if it were a plant. The battle was intense. Someone shouted Chuuya’s name out of nowhere, and Adam noticed something.

‘Chuuya-san’, Adam greeted Chuuya politely.

‘I am here to protect you,’ Adam replied. Adam introduced himself, and explained his mission. Adam was sent here to arrest an assassin called Paul Verlaine.

When Chuuya heard the name Verlaine, his facial expression changed.

‘Why do you know this name?’ asked Chuuya

‘Chuuya-san, you cannot defeat Verlaine on your own. That’s why I am here. Verlaine was not only an assassin. He is the king of assassins. He is your brother.’ said Adam.

The misconception was relieved, and the Flags, together with Adam, played billiards happily afterwards.

The story continues on 27th Feb

#bungo stray dogs #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs storm bringer #bungou stray dogs storm bringer #bsd storm bringer #bsd nakahara chuuya #nakahara chuuya

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andreafmn · 3 years

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Running In Circles - Chapter 1

Word Count: 3,196

Characters: Female Reader Rossi Character, Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Spencer Reid, Jennifer “JJ”Jareau, Emily Prentiss, Penelope Garcia, George Foyet, Multiple Unsubs and Victims

Story Description: (Y/N) Rossi is following in her father’s footsteps by joining the BAU team as a profiler. The girl genius knew almost everything but she could have never predicted falling for Aaron Hotchner, her boss and her father’s friend. in their world mutual feelings are not enough to push them together. Will all the adversities and obstacles they face pull them together or push them apart forever?

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Criminal Minds, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and CBS Network. The only thing I own is Arden Rossi, any upcoming characters, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others' story line.

Chapter: 1/?

Chapter Description: (Y/N) remebers her first day in the job and recounts all the cases and events that led to the downfall of George Foyet.

A/N: I decided to say fuck the anxiety of posting and put up my Aaron fanfiction. It’s been gathering dust in my documents folder and I love writing too much to keep it to myself. I’m not sure how many chapters this will have but there’s already 8 chapters all finished up. Soon I’ll be posting ff of all the fanfictions I enjoy also! If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

Next->

Chapter 1

“Good morning, BAU!” I said as I walked through the doors of the elevator and entered the bullpen. I could still remember how it felt the first time I got here.

I walked out of the elevator and made my way to the first office on the left. I was to meet

SSA Aaron Hotchner for an interview to join the BAU. My hands were shaking, and my body was getting warmer by the second. But I remembered my father’s encouraging words. “You’re gonna do great, mia bella.”

Not only was I extremely young, but I also had a lot to live up to. Being the daughter of SSA David Stephen Rossi was no easy task. He was an amazing agent, mentor, and father. He always pushed me to be the best at everything I did. When I started high school, I decided to get a head start on my college studies and applied to dual enrollment. When I graduated I did so with a Bachelor’s in Computer Science. Then, I worked my way to a Master’s in Psychology and Social Work, and a Doctorate in Criminal Justice. At the same time, my father trained me as a profiler. All my life I knew I wanted to be in the FBI, just like him. I was always impressed at all he did and wanted to be just like my hero. The day I told him I had been recruited by the FBI and was set to work in the BAU he said it had been the greatest day of his life.

Now my shaking hand raised to softly knock on the door before me.

“Come in,” someone said from inside. The door softly creaked as I opened and was met by a tall man with dark hair and a shorter blonde woman. “Agent Rossi, welcome.”

“Thank you, it’s an honor to be here.” I smiled and shook Aaron Hotchner’s and Erin Strauss’ hands.

“It’s an honor to meet you, Agent Rossi,” Erin smiled. “Have to say, you have a very impressive curriculum and your disinvolvement in our past interviews and tests have been outstanding.”

I smiled and turned the bracelet on my wrist for comfort.

“I must concur with Chief Strauss,” said Hotch. “I believe you will be a great addition to the BAU team.”

After sharing a few pleasantries and being handed my badge and gun, I was following Hotch to the briefing room to meet the rest of the team. Formally, at least. I had heard everything about them when I spoke with my father. He left no detail out.

“Morning, everyone,” Hotchner started. “I called you all in early today so you could meet the newest addition to the team. This is Agent (y/n) Rossi.”

To the sound of my name most of the mouths in the room dropped.

“Rossi, as in David Rossi?” The slender, messy haired agent said. I could only assume that was Spencer Reid. As my father had described him, a curly mess dressed in vests.

I nodded.

“Rossi, you didn’t tell us you had such a beautiful daughter.” That would be Derek Morgan. The hottie Casanova with a silver tongue.

“I hadn’t?” My father questioned and smirked, knowing full well the answer.

“Well, he’s talked a lot about all of you,” I smiled.

“All good things I hope,” Emily smiled.

“Great things,” I returned the smile. “I could probably make out who is who by the things he’s told me.”

“Go ahead,” Aaron challenged.

“Alright,” I cleared my throat and started going around the table. “Curly hair, vests, analyzing everything I’ve done and said since I walked in… you’re Spencer Reid.”

He smiled brightly.

“Tall, dark, handsome, and a silver tongue. Plus, you checked me out as soon as the doors of the elevator opened… Derek Morgan.”

He smirked.

“Calm, cool, and collected. Quiet but present, inspecting my presence here… you’re Emily Prentiss.”

“She’s good,” Emily muttered to Morgan beside her. I continued.

“And last but not least, bright colors, fun accessories,” I said looking at Garcia. “Even though you’re smiling, you’re not sure about me yet because you don’t like change and are probably going to dig up everything you can on me as soon as you can… Penelope Garcia.”

She stiffened and Derek chuckled.

“Don’t worry, I get it. I do not like change that much either. And here,” I reached my hand into my bag to pull out a rather thick folder. “I’ll save you the work. Background check, complete internet history, social medias, and all the whatnots you would need to build a very extensive profile.”

“Oh, thank you,” she reached out her hand and grabbed the folder, smiling at the floor.

“And well, I already know Agent Hotchner and my father, so they don’t need much of an introduction.”

“No, but you do,” my father said joining my side. “Tell them a bit about yourself.”

“Well, I have a bachelor, two masters, and a doctorate degree: I’m 23, I’m Rossi’s daughter…” In the middle of my thought process dad cut in.

“She’s beautiful, she’s intelligent, and she’s the one I call when I’m stuck on a case.” I smiled.

“She also passed every test with flying colors,” Aaron added. “And her profiling skills are exceptional.”

“Thank you,” I blushed. “I think it runs in my blood.”

“Well, welcome to the team,” Aaron continued. “Let’s get to work.”

That was almost three years ago. A couple of days after, I met JJ who had visited with her newborn son Henry.

In very little time I had grown attached to this family. I was most of the time partnered with Spence and we developed an amazing bond. It did help that I loved playing chess and we could have highly erudite talks. Also, I very much enjoyed his over sharing of facts. But really, I was close to them all. On my spare time I was found watching movies with Derek and Penny, perusing book shops with Reid, having girl nights with JJ, Penny, and Emily, or sipping on top grade scotch while finishing paperwork with Hotch.

Spending time with Hotch was my favorite pastime of all.

I realized I had developed feelings for him the day he was captured by Foyet and left at the hospital. Receiving the call from Emily that she had found blood at his apartment literally knocked the air out of my lungs. Reid could tell that my reaction would not have been the same where it had been any of the other members. For some time, he had deduced my attraction to our unit chief. Once we had captured Patrick Meyers and Reid had been sent off to a hospital, we sped off to St. Sebastian Hospital. I could feel my heartbeat going faster and faster as I felt time slipping by. More than once I had asked Morgan to go faster and with sorry eyes, he told me he was going as fast as he could.

Seeing Hotch on a hospital bed, greatly hurt, broke me. I knew everyone on the team, just like Reid, had figured it out. I was the first one in when the doctor announced he was waking up. His eyes fluttered open as JJ, the last one to enter, made it in.

“Where am I?” He groggily asked.

“In the hospital,” dad answered.

My eyes could not leave his face, even as all I wanted was to imagine him in a different state. Derek told him how he made it to the hospital and Emily asked Hotch what had happened. Closing his eyes, Hotch explained step by step how everything had gone down. Upon more investigation, we quickly figured what Foyet had taken and, a page from his planner that held his ex-wife’s and son’s current address and a picture of them, respectively.

Once we had that information, the team knew exactly what to do. Emily and I volunteered to stay behind and update the team if anything changed. As soon as he went to sleep, we let out a locked breath. But the relief was short lived as his pulse started to get exceedingly fast.

“What happened?” The doctor asked.

“I don’t know,” I croakily muttered out. Emily put a hand on my back as I softly touched his arm.

“Agent Hotchner. Can you hear me?” The doctor called out. “Agent Hotchner?”

He finally opened his eyes and responded. “I’m okay.”

The doctor asked us out of the room as she checked on him and Emily helped stabilize my walk as we made it out. I saw the doctor and a nurse check him as I picked the skin of the thumb of my right hand. Emily noticed and grabbed it, knowing well of my nervous ticks. The other being closing my fist hard enough to dig my nails in it.

“He’ll be okay,” she smiled. “You know he’s a fighter.”

I softly smiled at her, not knowing if she said it for me or for her to believe it too.

Once we knew Haley and Jack were safe the three of us let out a relieved sigh. Hotch squeezed the hand I had been holding as he slept, needing the reassurance of a trusted presence next to him. He asked Emily about the scene at his apartment, but she could not give him definite answers. In a moment of silence, she excused herself to go buy coffee and I took this chance to ask him what had been going through my head.

“Do you wanna talk about what happened?” I asked worry evident in my eyes.

Sighing, he responded. “I don’t know. After he stabbed me the first time, it all goes blank.”

He looked straight into my eyes and I could tell he knew more than he let on, but now was not the time to push him. He had been drained: physically, emotionally, and mentally. In that moment, Haley walked in and I let go of his hand to leave them to talk. From outside of the room, I could hear the heartbreaking moment and knowing he was in pain shattered my heart. That day had absolutely devastated us as a team, but it only made us more determined to find Foyet and end him.

But life and work went on. The whole month he was off, I spent most of my free time helping in his recovery and his healing, using the little training I had in wound treatment. The other part of my time I spent with Reid, who was also in recovery. A far less pressing injury, but an injury, nonetheless. And he was my best friend, so I could not completely abandon him.

We were all worried about him coming back to the team with Foyet still out there, but dad reassured us he would only be more motivated. Yet the first case back, he was different. He was usually professional and understanding, now it seemed that no matter how well we worked, we would make a mistake. And when we finally tracked down the unsub and he made his way inside the house, no vest, and no gun, I knew there was something different in him. I tried to follow him inside, but dad stopped me.

“We have to trust him,” he told me. Even with those words we were all unsure of the outcome. My head was working 1,000 miles a minute coming up with different ways this could all end up in, and when I heard the gunshots, my mind only went to the darkest end. Quickly we stormed in the house and saw Hotch putting handcuffs on Darrin, and a very dead Jarvis on a recliner.

My father spent most of his time with me reassuring me that Hotch was still the same man he had been a month before. And I spent most of my time with Hotch reassuring him that he was not alone.

At the end of most cases Emily, dad, and I sat with Hotch in his office to drink a cup of scotch and unwind after a stressful day. I stayed nights overtime often and was there on the night that Strauss had landed a surprise visit to his office. The next day he became hyper focused on Derek’s work, which later he revealed to me the reason why. The bureau was questioning his leadership and he meant to step down as unit chief at the end of that week. This ended with Derek becoming active unit chief whilst Hotch was being investigated.

The days that followed were quite strange. We were used to taking orders from Hotch and now taking orders from Morgan was completely different. But business went on as usual. We worked on cases just as hard and solved them just as efficiently. With one case always hanging on us like a dark cloud. George Foyet. With every case we finished we knew he was still out there, which meant that Hotch was still hurting and hunting.

But the dreaded day had caught up to us. With the last case we had been on in Hampton we knew Foyet had found Hotch. He was taunting Hotch, dangling his life in front of him. Once he had sent us that calling card, we pressed harder on our investigation, pulling at whatever string we could find.

Thankfully, JJ pulled our medication string harder when she found out about the ability to substitute prescriptions with over-the-counter meds. We worked tirelessly and strongly to shorten the investigation part of this case. We needed to catch him, fast.

“Wait a minute, guys. Foyet likes things that have meaning to him,” I said looking at the map presented in front of us. I could see that Reid knew where I was going.

“The eye of providence, the addresses in blood he wrote on the bus that led back to him,” Spence added, and I nodded.

“Maybe he’s doing the same with his name,” I said as Reid wrote down George Foyet on the board.

“Like an anagram or something,” Emily chimed. Quickly, Reid got to work on the theory crossing out and circling letters. Adding ‘The Reaper’ onto the board and utilizing it, once Hotch had pointed out Foyet gave himself that name. He kept up this process until the name Peter Rhea came to existence.

Garcia tracked down the name and quickly found an address in Arlington. We had found him, but it was just too easy.

We were waiting outside of the apartment building for too long, waiting for something, anything. Once Morgan had given his orders, the plan was set in motion. Still, something in the back of my mind kept telling me it was too easy. We stormed the empty apartment and searched for anything that would help us find his actual location. His computer was quickly deleting files, but Garcia was better. Haley’s protection unit was in trouble.

As soon as it clicked, we were on our way to the stash house. Inside the house Marshal Sam Kassmeyer was hurt, losing blood quickly. With the little he was able to tell us we knew that Haley and Jack were in danger. Sam had not told Foyet anything, but George was smart, unfortunately. He had disguised himself as a Marshal and lied to Haley to get her where he needed her. Only him had communication with her. Everyone was on edge wanting nothing more than to find this man.

In the office we heard Hotch’s conversation with Foyet. He was working hard to buy some time for us to find him but knowing George he already had a plan set in motion. He had eyes on the pair, he was with them. I could only imagine what Hotch was going through.

“Alright, Foyet has to be in control,” Derek said, breaking me out of my thoughts. “He had Haley come to him.”

“Yeah, but where would he take her?” Spencer asked. We all started thinking and speculating. There was something in the call that told Hotch where to go. That was the key.

“Reid, what did he say, exactly?” I emphasized on the last word.

“Haley’s hair looks good dark. She’s lost some weight. It must be because of all the stress you caused her. Where’s the little man? Oh, there he is now. Do you think he likes Captain America because of you? That’s your wife on the other line. Hold, please. Hi. Open the gate and I’ll drive in.” Spencer recited in a monotone voice.

“Open the gate?” My father questioned.

“It would be someplace with the biggest emotional impact for Hotch,” I said looking down to organize my thoughts.

“And Haley has access to the gate,” Derek added, and it clicked.

“Their house,” I said. “Where they lived together.”

“Of course,” Emily said. “Foyet planned this all the way to the end. It’s everything to him.”

“He wants to take over Hotch’s house, to be in control, to prove his dominance,” I finished. We knew where he was going, and I was sure Hotch knew too and was already on his way.

On the way, Hotch got a call from Foyet’s phone. It was Hayley. I heard the emotion grabbing him by the throat. We could hear the whole conversation and my heart broke when he asked Hayley the magic words.

“Tell Jack that I need him working on the case,” Hotch breathed out. One drunken night he had told me about how he had found Jack inside a storage bench in his office after he had knocked on it. The smiling kid had told his father that he was working the case with Hotch. Hotch knew what was going to happen and so did I. This was the best chance Jack had at survival.

When Hotch told Jack to hug his mom and he said I love you, I let out a loud sob and Emily grabbed my hand tightly for support. But I was not the one that need the care. Hotch did. Haley’s words would forever be engraved in my head, and in the heads of our friends.

Three gunshots rang through the line right before it cut. Then I could not hold back the tears. I knew. I just knew.

Hotch was the first one on the scene and all I thought of was that he did not have a vest or any backup, so god knows what could have happened. For the second time in a matter of months all I could ask for was that Morgan drove faster.

At the house, Morgan was the first one in and the scene that unfolded in front of us was heartbreaking. Hotch was hitting Foyet over and over, and Derek had to hold him back. He was dead. I surveyed the scene and instinctively went to Hotch’s office, Hotch following close behind. Jack had to be there. I let Hotch walk past me and watched as relief overtook him when he lifted the lid.

“I work the case, daddy,” Jack said. Unbeknownst to everything that had happened. “Just like you said.”

“You did a great job buddy,” Hotch lifted his son out of the bench.

“What happened to you, daddy?”

“I’m okay. I want you to go outside with Ms. Jareau. Ok?” The child walked to JJ and she took him out in her arms.

And Hotch let go. He silently cried and I helped him make his way to where Haley laid. I stood by the door and turned away a police officer. Morgan stood up and squeezed my shoulder as he left the room behind the officer. I stayed outside of the doorframe, listening to the sobs of a strong man.

Next->

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katarina-elaine · 4 years

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I’ve been busy with Adult Things and didn’t know it was up yet...so of course, when I saw this message, I nearly sprayed hot tea all over my computer screen as I scrambled to go look! Since we weren’t told too much about Alastor in the pilot episode of the show, I knew that the comic would likely tell us a lot more about his personality, as the other comic did an excellent job of sort of slowing things down and zooming in to focus on Angel Dust’s character. This made me VERY excited about the Alastor comic...and I am far from disappointed. @iveneverbeenmorestressedinmylife, you probably weren’t looking for a lengthy ramble about the comic, but friend, thAT IS EXACTLY WHAT YOU’RE GONNA GET!! (I’ll be nice to everyone who doesn’t care about my thoughts by putting this under a read more, I went completely friggin’ feral over m’boi, my eyes have been blessed)

I adore the detail of the first three pages. I also find it hilarious that Alastor is legit just vibin’, and everyone else is dodging out of the way like “N O P E”. Even the worker at the cafe is just like “why tf did this walking nightmare on speed have to visit on my shift?!” There are no words to describe the way I felt upon seeing Alastor just sitting at the table reading a newspaper, I made the most embarrassing noise b/c I am soft!! I just really want Good Things for our best boi?!

The bit with the birds was...something. I thought it was precious that Alastor shared with them, but later on I just sort of narrowed my eyes at him, b/c it’s totally possible that he knew what would happen and couldn’t resist a bit of violent entertainment. One could also argue that he hoped they’d just share the egg, as he does walk out shortly after the one bird decides to wreck ALL the things (RIP that poor employee’s peaceful morning). However, I wouldn’t put it past Alastor to stir things up and then just walk away. He didn’t even close the hell hole he made in the pilot when he crushed Sir Pentious, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I need to know what’s up with the roses. Does every flower that manages to grow in hell instantly wilt? Does Alastor just have that effect on people flowers? Did he make it wilt, and if so, why? Is Alastor just having a hecken exasperating morning b/c it’s hell and disappointment and agitation will always be in the forecast? I also wheezed with laughter when the other sinners literally noped away in the middle of Alastor saying hello. Poor boi cannot get an uninterrupted introduction to save his life! ~That must get rather lonely~ 8) On the other hand, he seems to be very well-known and accepted in the cannibal colony! It’s good to know he has friends...and fangirls. That group is an entire MOOD! I would totally fight the lucky lady who caught Alastor’s hat. I find it slightly tragic that we didn’t see him wearing that hat though, because I will always need to see him wearing a hat that adjusts for his antlers and ears (they are ears, I will never believe otherwise). The person playing sax on the street is so beautiful?? I cry?? Also, bless Alastor for tossing the guy a coin. “All hat and no cattle!” Alastor. Sweetheart. Darling. Baby boi. *cries for a long time b/c he’s such a dork and I flippin’ adore him* Also, Alastor cursing was oddly amusing? All Vox did was be a showoff, but Alastor friggin mutters to himself for what looks like at least a few city blocks? Like?? Calm down, sweet pea, you’re undoubtedly giving Vox exactly what he wants, and that glorified box of static didn’t even have to work for it! The panel on page eleven where we see Alastor mid-step confirms that he is one very lanky boi! I would also like to know how often he glows?? We saw him glow a few times in the pilot, but it doesn’t seem like the light is always there. Maybe the glow is involuntary and is connected to his emotions, such as being overly agitated/excited? Of course, it could just be another intimidation tactic (mission accomplished on that last one, babe, you can stop being a firefly now). Also, I am hecken annoyed on Alastor’s behalf, hE JUST WANTED TO GET SOME FOOD AND NEARLY GOT ATTACKED INSTEAD?? HE LITERALLY DID NOT DO ANYTHING WRONG?! I know it’s hell, and to be fair, I would probably prefer to be armed against someone who was notorious for being *gestures toward Alastor entering hell and forcing people to take notice of his badassery* Like That, but it’s not exactly good business, now IS IT?! “I want fresh meat, not bubble gum!” Okay, listen...I love this man. A lot. This line? Perfection. Alastor both amused me and gave a perfect description of so many disappointing cuts of meat I’ve had to practically dissect before consuming. 11/10 would trust Alastor to do my shopping. I was NOT expecting Alastor to be so polite?? Even after the butcher clearly makes a move to attack Alastor when his back is turned, Alastor basically just gives a passive-aggressive (and probably very static-filled) warning, lets the incident slide, and thanks the guy for his service?! He even held the door open for the lil sheep bab, I cry!! Too bad the sheep is likely terrified of him now. On that note...the last panel on page fifteen. I am LIVING for that panel. Say what you will, but with consent, I would definitely still smooch the murdeer while he looked like that. It also shows that, contrary to what I had originally thought, Alastor’s ultimate spooky look isn’t just a slightly elongated (and antlered) version of how he looks while crushing Pentious. Apparently his eyes and mouth turn into oozing black voids of death! *cackles* I am so very glad the comic came out before I wrote certain scenes for my fanfics...and I hope Alastor enjoys his meal! >8) This does make me wonder whether complete dismemberment (such as being torn/blown to pieces or having your body squashed) truly kills sinners, as I wouldn’t think this would be all that difficult to accomplish or even all that rare. For example, the guy in the pilot who snatched the drugs from Angel likely got smeared into paste by that falling debris. Is he double-dead now, or will his body veeeery slowly regenerate? If it’s that easy to truly die in hell, why would heavenly weapons be such a big deal? Is it just that they can kill someone with less effort? We really need a list of ways that sinners can permanently die or at least a brief explanation of the rules, it’s one of the few things that’s seriously bugging me! I’m gonna be rereading this comic for ages, especially since we get so many lovely shots of Alastor. Do I technically have the time to do so amidst work and grad school? No! Am I going to do it anyway? Yes!

#I'm dying here y'all #glorious content of m'boi #my eyes have been BLESSED #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor comic

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swordarkeereon · 3 years

Text

Tech Review for Writers: reMarkable2

I got myself a piece of interesting tech this year in hopes it would get me from out in front of a computer screen more often. Meet the reMarkable2, a distraction free (i.e. it’s not connected to the entirety of the internet) e-ink tablet workhorse that’s easy on the eyes.

The reMarkable2 Tablet

First things first. The reMarkable2 tablet is not for everyone and your average person probably won’t find it the least bit useful. So let’s talk about why you don’t want this tablet first.

reMarkable 2 is not for you if:

– You want an eReader. eReaders have a VERY DIFFERENT function than the reMarkable2. Yes, you can read PDFs on a reMarkable, but it’s more for *marking up* a PDF and commenting in the margins of a PDF. Not just reading. eReaders like Kindles and Nooks often have built in dictionaries, ways to bookmark pages or passages of text, etc… that the reMarkable2 doesn’t have. You can search your documents for specific phrases and words and also highlight things in a light gray, but if you’re just looking for an eReader, I suggest a Kindle.

– You want a full functioning tablet that you can put apps on and surf the web with- If you’re looking for a full functioning tablet, you’ve missed the whole point of the reMarkable2. The main point behind reMarkable2 is so you can go to your creative place (wherever that may be) and brainstorm, free from ALL distractions. You can’t stop to surf FB or your Twitter feed on a reMarkable2, thus making it more likely you’ll stay on task and get more done.

– You want something with color so you can highlight because what you really want is a fully functioning ebook reader or tablet. This tablet is really more of a no frills brainstorming and note-taking tool for entrepreneurs, professionals, academics, and creatives (including engineers, writers, musicians, possibly artists if they like to sketch in black and white) who use a lot of black pens and plain paper.

I bought the tablet for the following reasons (which I wrote down BEFORE I received the device):

– I wanted an electronic notebook (not a tablet). I’m one of those people who goes through 3 packs of sticky notes every month, and countless notebooks every year. I am constantly jotting stuff down to keep myself focused and on track while running my own business and helping out at the family business. My notes can be anything from putting together presentations, classes, and meetings, to extensive to-do lists for the day. Sometimes it’s just me keeping track of sales figures. As a result, my desk is always filled with papers and notebooks and I’m constantly searching for shit. The electronic notebook cleans up all this clutter and helps me organize my brain. (Have you seen my brain!? It’s a mess in there.)

– I like to write freehand, especially when I’m plotting the next book or writing a blurb, or even writing a chapter – and it must be distraction free. This is something only fellow authors will understand. The fact that the reMarkable2 can convert handwritten notes to text sent via email has me excited because, if I’m lucky and it works, I won’t have to go through and transcribe all my handwritten notes. It basically saves me time by eliminating a step. I can copy/paste the note from my email into the appropriate file on my laptop. This will also save me the clutter and weight of carrying countless notebooks.

– I am involved with projects that require me to sketch out ideas for marketing and/or artwork. I do have tablets that can do this, but nothing that does it *well*. The closest is my Surface tablet, which can do a lot of things, but it still doesn’t feel like paper or allow me the fine detail paper allows. I’m hoping this tablet is a bit more responsive in this area. – I am forever printing out rough drafts of manuscripts for markup – wasting a ton of paper and toner in the process. All because I can’t edit on a backlit screen. My eyes get tired and I miss too many errors. If I can transfer my PDF drafts to the reMarkable and mark them up there with minimal errors left over, I could save some $$. I am actually estimating that I could easily save the cost of the reMarkable2 in 6 months to 1 year’s time by not having to purchase the paper, pens, and toner I usually go through in that time frame. Plus, these marked up manuscripts often end up in a stack on my office floor for 6 months to a year after publication.

– I am forever having to read PDFs of laws and regulations for the family business, and while I usually use them on the computer, I sit in front of a computer 8-13 hours a day. I need a non-backlit screen for reading in the evenings just to give my eyes a break. Yes, I imagine I could do the same with a Kindle paperwhite, but I may just want to jot some notes in the same way I’d mark up a paper copy. I’m still a pen and paper girl. I’m really hoping the reMarkable is my replacement for that (most of the time anyway).

reMarkable2 test to sample the pen styles.

Some considerations I took into account before purchasing:

A lot of customers complained that it took too long to receive the reMarkable or to get support. From all of the research I did, and in reading their website, it’s clear to me that this company caters to academia and businesses. I ordered my reMarkable2 on January 16, 2021, and had it in my hands by January 25, 2021. 9 days. I also ordered it and paid for it through my business. I don’t know if that’s actually why I got mine so fast, but I wouldn’t be surprised. That said, I do think the company should work a little harder to increase their customer service efficiency.

With regard to customer support – the website clearly states it can take up to 10 business days for support to get back to you. And a lot of the things people seem to be complaining about have troubleshooting instructions on the website. Clearly people weren’t going to the website to try to look up their issue through the support FAQs, which likely would have helped them out sooner. They were just contacting support immediately, and angry when they weren’t getting a response after 3 days, when it’s clearly stated on the website that it can take up to 10 days due to the fact that reMarkable is a small company. But like I said earlier – they would be smart to increase their customer service team.

reMarkable’s folios are a custom fit and really pretty, but a bit pricey. I made the tablet more affordable by skipping the upgrade on the pen, because a friend of mine got the eraser feature and she wasn’t digging it initially (she loves it now), and I purchased a relatively nice folio from Amazon for under $30 (with no magnets – research told me magnets can cause dead spots in the screen of the reMarkable2). You can also just buy a 10″-11″ tablet sleeve and it would work much the same. There are also universal tablet folios that will fit 10″-11″ tablets that are free of magnets and will likely work just fine. All for under $20 bucks — even a few in faux leather. Remember that a case should protect your investment, not just make it *look* sharp.

Right out of the Box.

Right out of the box I set the reMarkable up and started using it for brainstorming. Here were my first impressions:

1. It really is pretty damn close to writing on paper.

2. You can rest your damn hand on the screen and it won’t fuck things up or make it wobble as with traditional tablets.

3. My handwriting actually looks like my handwriting and you have almost the same control with this as you would with real pen and paper.

4. The interface is simple and intuitive and anyone who uses computers and tablets day and in day out will have no issues figuring this out.

Now some thoughts on the features:

Handwriting to Text: As an author who likes to occasionally spend time writing the old fashioned way, one of the things that attracted me to this tablet was its ability to translate handwriting to text. No writer wants to have to transcribe their written notes and waste all of that time. So of course I tested it with my horrific handwriting, vs purposefully trying to be neat, and the reMarkable2 was able to convert my chicken scratch into actual text that I could read. I was able to turn the handwritten notes into a PDF, but I was also able to send the handwriting converted to typed text as the body of an email, where I was able to cut and paste it into any program I wanted. I took it further and wrote 1000 words (about 8.2 pages) longhand. It converted all the pages to text in one swoop and I was able to copy/paste it into my manuscript. While there was a little formatting and editing involved — it was a lot faster than retyping handwritten notes. WIN!

Handwriting for conversion test.

Conversion successful

PDF Transfer, Markup, and Signature: Transferring PDFs to the reMarkable is easy. You simply download the app on your phone and your desktop, and you can take any pdf from either device and import it onto your reMarkable, which you can then markup. I sent myself a slew of PDFs that I had to read and markup. It’s amazing how much more focused I am on a screen like this. I really got the same experience with editing on a digital PDF as I did with editing on a paper copy. My only caveat is that I don’t have more space to make notes since the margins are a bit small on the screen and there’s no “back of the page” to carry notes over to. I can likely manage. Despite that – what a great experience. Goodbye manuscripts all over my office floor! Hello being able to drag editing work with me wherever I go!

You can also transfer your PDFs that don’t have an electronic signature option to the device, sign them, and send them back. Talk about HANDY since I do that a few times a month by default. This just eliminates the print/sign/scan. Now I just have to transfer it to the device, sign the document, and email it straight back to whoever sent it.

Digital Planners may be something I look into for 2022 because reMarkable actually makes them feasible. I tried a tester digital planner, courtesy a friend, on my reMarkable and I have to say – it offers just as much satisfaction as a paper planner. Plus, you can SEARCH large pdfs. It won’t find search terms in your handwriting, but it will find it in your PDF. That’s definitely a handy feature when you’re working with 500 page PDFs. That said, the tablet saves your place (last page you visited) as you’re navigating a PDF, so no need to search for the place you left off. However, there is no way to bookmark multiple pages.

ePub Reading: suppose I could sideload books as ePubs, but I really have no use for this feature. If I want to read ebooks, I use my kindle or the Kindle App on my tablet or phone. Unless I start doing editing of ePubs or want to check out an ePub format for something? I didn’t buy this as an eReader, and it is terribly lacking as an eReader. Where the reMarkable excels is as a tool for marking up documents. So my guess is it would be great for that if you have a lot of files in ePub format that you have to go over. You also can’t change font sizes for easier reading. You can zoom in and zoom back out to regular size. That’s it. (And this is another reason this is not an eReader.)

Storage: Storage is a little over 6GB (you do not pay for the reMarkable website cloud-sync). But even with about 15 PDFs (some of them really long) on my reMarkable at any given time, I was only at .38 GB.

reMarkable2 Storage

File System: Like I said earlier – the system is highly intuitive and easy to use. I made folders for my most common notebook uses, then I moved the appropriate PDFs to those folders, and created any notebooks I needed for those folders.

Exporting: You can export as .PNG, .SVG, and PDF. Handwriting to text can only be sent as text via the body of an email. This is actually great for writing because then you just have to copy/paste from your email into your Word Doc, Google Doc, or Scrivener.

Importing: Imports PDFs and ePubs.

Templates: The templates are great. I generally only use graph paper, plain, and lined paper myself. But I could see how a lot of these would be useful to people. The to-do list is a crappy template just because it requires you to hide your menu to use it (you can’t tick the the checkboxes until you do this). To hide the menu tap the circle in the upper left top of the menu bar. So if you want a partial page to-do list, you can easily make your own checkbox lists using the graph paper option. There are also dot pages for the folks into bullet journaling.

A small sampling of reMarkable2 Templates

Search Feature: You can search within a PDF, but not through your own handwritten text. You must be in the PDF to search it, otherwise you can only search for file names. You can not search across documents for a phrase or word. So if you’re looking for something with the same search capabilities as a laptop or possibly a tablet, you won’t find it here.

Zooming: You can zoom in on PDF documents and write on them while zoomed. However, you cannot change font sizes to make reading easier.

Battery Life: On days where I used it heavily (about 4-5 hours), I was using around 15% power in a day because I didn’t put it in airplane mode. Three days of 4-5 hours a day use drained my battery to 50%. So me, as a heavy user, not in airplane mode, will likely get 6-7 days out of a single charge. Possibly more since clearly not every day will be a heavy use day. The device does go to sleep after 10 minutes of inactivity.

Pen:The pens are a bit pricey. I did not buy the expensive pen with the eraser and I’m okay with that. But $60 for a pen is still a bit — ouch.

Pen Nib: I am expecting I will be one of those poor unfortunate souls who will be replacing pen tips every 3-4 weeks during heavy use. Luckily the pen itself doesn’t use batteries. The pen nibs seem reasonable in price, just be sure to order a new pack with your device and when you start that pack, order another as shipping times on those can take a week or two depending where you are and how efficient your mail service is. You don’t want to accidently run out and find yourself without a pen. Yikes.

Security: You can add a password to your reMarkable to keep prying eyes out. But if you’re like me and self-employed, that’s not really an issue. Your remarkable has Wi-Fi, yes, but you can put it in airplane mode to cut the connection. Plus, it only syncs to your cloud storage. There really aren’t any entry points for viruses or people hacking into your device. But then I’m also not a tech person. Let’s just say I highly doubt security will be a huge issue on this thing. Besides, anyone who wants to take a peek at my tablet would likely find themselves bored stiff, unless they like reading really rough first drafts of speculative fiction. LOL

Backup/Download: You can easily transfer your files back to your computer by opening the app and simply exporting your finished documents, etc… to your computer, backup drive or cloud drive. You can also just email yourself a copy to make it super easy.

My Wishlist:

1. I wish I could add or append new, handwritten pages to an existing PDF. That would definitely solve the space issue. Now, I just make notes in a different file and jog back and forth between the PDF and the notes, which is a little annoying, but doable. One way to solve this issue would be to save all your PDFs to double spaced. It might make markup a little easier. I’ll try that with the next books to go under the editorial knife.

2. I wish there were cheaper alternative covers. My $17 cover looks great and protects my tablet. reMarkable could easily come up with a few additional low-cost choices here. The ultra professionals are still going to buy nice leather folios.

(I may add to this list in the coming weeks, but right now these are the two main things jumping out at me.)

Overall Review Summary

For writers, reMarkable2 truly is a remarkable distraction free device that can help improve your concentration and organization, give you the freedom to write out longhand and convert it to text without the tedious re-typing, and help you mark up drafts with ease. This would probably serve prolific and professional writers more liberally than the writer who takes a few years to pen a book. Plus, it will probably save you a lot of printer paper, toner, pens and notebooks. For business owners/users – reMarkable will likely save you pounds of sticky notes and legal pads, and hours of time transcribing your notes. Plus, it’s a great on-the-go working tool for content creators and people who review a lot of PDFs.

Have some thoughts on the reMarkable2? Feel free to leave a comment below!

#distraction-free #not sponsored content #reMarkable2 #tablets #technology reviews

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larryfanficwriter98 · 4 years

Text

Chapter Two

(Just an idea of the gifts I pictured)

Louis texts

Harry texts

Harry woke up on the tour bus feeling it move underneath him. He groaned burying his face in the pillows for a few minutes. The tour bus was the same as any other tour bus except the backroom was converted into a bedroom a few years back. The bunks were for his band and the bedroom was his. The original story when it got out was that it was for Harry's many women companions no matter how many times Harry denied it. Rolling over he grabbed his phone and saw he had a new message in the Anonymous app. He unlocked his phone and went to the app and saw it was from Louis.

Why volcano boarding?

Harry's lips twitched before he typed a reply.

Volcano ash stains are impossible to get out.

Harry watched the screen for a minute before locking the phone and rolling out of bed. He headed to the bathroom to shower and to get dressed for a day of traveling. When his phone went off he grabbed it and checked the message.

Why do it? Lost a bet didn't you?

No.

Maybe.

Okay so yes, but it looked like fun.

And paragliding?

Lost a bet.

Skydiving?

Lost a bet.

Bungee jump?

Got dared.

Double or triple?

...triple.

Brutal mates

Tell me about it. They didn't even do it with me!

Horrible mates, you've got. What about mountain climbing?

Unfortunately, that was my fault.

Figured why not...I now know why not.

Yeah? What's the biggest reason?

I'm scared of heights.

The harness digs into your balls.

Pretty sure I'm sterile now.

So what brought you to Anonymous?

An entire bottle of Wine.

I don't have many friends and haven't been able to properly date, and I'm currently traveling right now. I'll be back in England in six months and I don't know I guess I am a hopeless romantic who thought this was a good idea after a bottle of wine.

Yeah? Where are you traveling?

Different locations. Currently in Germany heading to Hamburg.

"Hey, Tommo your cereal is getting soggy." Louis jumped and looked away from his phone to look at Liam.

"What?"

"Your cereal. It'll get soggy."

"Oh. Right." Louis turned away and went back to texting Harold back but he made sure to shove a spoonful of coco pops into his mouth.

"Who are you talking to? New guy?" Louis hummed distractedly, "can I have some if your coco pops?" Louis hummed again as he slid his thumb over the keys before he realized what Liam just asked.

"What? No!" Louis looked to Liam, but it was too late as Liam was smirking and eating a spoonful of coco pops.

"Did hell freeze over or do we have a hidden box if coco pops?" Zayn asked walking into the kitchen

"Louis has a boy he's distracted by and I took advantage." Liam said feeding his fiance a spoonful of the cereal.

"Distracted enough to let you have coco pops? That's a good sign. Who is he?"

"No one. I'm hiding my coco pops again." Louis grabbed the box and held it to his chest then he looked at his phone again laughing at Harold's message.

"I have to head into work, but I'll see you, lads, later." Louis set his coco pops box down on the island and headed to the door slipping his Van's on grabbing his keys while replying to Harry.

Have to head into work. Keep me updated on that snack thief and I'll text when I can.

I'll send hourly updates.

***

Messaging Louis became one of his favorite things to do, he was often distracted by the sound of his phone going off. 8 out of 10 times it was Louis and the 2% it wasn't always made his excitement go down even if just for a moment. He hasn't told Louis he was Demisexual or a virgin yet, but not because he was scared he'd leave the conversation, but because it has never been brought up before. Truly.

He would send pictures of beautiful views to Louis and famous landmarks and Louis would return the favor with the picture of the Manchester sky. Either it is raining or sunny, Louis always had a sarcastic message to go with it. It was almost an unspoken agreement to not send selfies to one another. He doesn't know how it became a thing, but it was.

Louis would often send pictures of what he was doing like if he was doing the dishes or if he was at work then it was of the kids he watched at the daycare. The video game controller if he was playing with his housemates, or if they ordered pizza he'd send him a picture of a slice and ask if Harry wanted Louis to save him some. Harry would do the same and send him pictures of his own game he was playing with his mates on the tour bus, he'd send him a picture of his meals at restaurants. If he was playing the guitar he'd send him a picture of his Gibson.

For some reason it worked for them, it satisfied them in a way. Harry has been debating whether or not to give Louis his actual phone number so they didn't have to rely on the app, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it for some reason. He did however find himself buying Louis things from the local shops and gift shops. When his backroom got a bit too crowded in Japan, and because he was feeling bad about the time difference he went to the post office and got a box then paid for the fastest shipping to Manchester after buying a postal box for Louis Tomlinson. The security question was What is the color of Harold's Gibson guitar?

Louis arrived at the postal office still confused as to why Harry had asked him to get his mail for him. It took a few days for Harry to convince him, but eventually, he figured it couldn't hurt and he would just drop it off at the listed address anyway. He really liked Harry. He was funny and Louis had a distinct impression that he was extremely hot and he couldn't wait for them to share selfies. He couldn't wait to share phone numbers and calls and maybe even facetime.

"Name please?" The desk worker asked

"Louis Tomlinson. I'm picking up." Louis told the man who nodded and typed something into his computer

"There is a security question. What is the color of Harold's Gibson?" The man was just as confused as Louis had been at first until he heard the question

"It's a dark blue with a hummingbird." Louis told him

"He just said blue so here is the key."

"Thank you." Louis headed to the number on the key ring tag finding one of the larger boxes. He had half a mind to take back his agreement, but headed to the box and unlocked it. Sure enough, there sat a 20x20x20 box, but instead of Harry's name, it was actually addressed to Louis Tomlinson. He turned the box to read the label and his jaw dropped in shock when he realized Harry had sent it from Japan.

"That lying asshole." Louis said even though he was grinning and was kind of pleased in a way that Harry was so thoughtful. They hadn't talked about being exclusive to one another, but neither of them has talked to anyone else and they told the other one that. Louis had a feeling that Harry wasn't the type to just message five guys and Louis, after a week of talking to Harry stopped replying to the others. He headed to the desk with the box in his arms to return the key, but the man shook his head.

"It’s under a six-month rental. The key is for you to keep trying not to lose it." Louis nodded trying not to get too pleased that Harry was planning on sending him more things. He packed the box on his passenger seat then headed home eager to open his gift. When he got to the house he walked inside with the help of his ass and hips.

"Why do you have a box?" Liam asked curiously

"Because I do." Louis said as he set the box on the coffee table and opened his phone taking a picture of it and sending it to Harry. It was 9am in Manchester so in Japan, it was 5pm so Harry should be awake for another few hours. Some days he was busy though and hardly able to message which Louis understood if he was on a worldwide vacation. Louis wouldn't want to chat all that much either.

"Japan? From Harold?"

"Yeah, the little lying jerk." Louis locked his phone and tossed it to the couch before heading to the kitchen to grab a knife.

"Didn't he just arrive there though?"

"Yeah, about three days ago why?"

"You realize how much international shipping is? How much fast international shipping cost?" Louis paused and looked at Liam, "he must be well off."

"I bet it's daddy's credit card." Zayn said as he sat on the couch with Niall

"There's nothing wrong with having well off parents. Leave him alone. I actually like this one."

"Sorry Lou... you're right now open the box so we can see what he thought ya. Bet the insides are not as pricey as the shipping." Louis rolled his eyes at the gentle teasing before he cut the tape.

He opened the flaps and saw an envelope on top of the tissue paper that was hiding the contents of the box. Louis grabbed the envelope and opened it, pulling out a few pieces of paper that were folded together. Unfolding the letter he saw a messy, but somehow neat handwriting on the pages.

Louis,

I am so glad that my wine drunk mind led me through this really weird path of meeting you. You have brought a lot of joy in my life that I hadn’t completely realized I was missing. My friends and my family are all talking about how much I have changed since talking to you. You are hilarious, sarcastic, caring, and always seem to be one step ahead of me.

I'm sure the worker told you the box will be open for six months, I plan on sending a lot of things to you along my travels as long as we keep talking. I know we have exactly talked about exclusiveness and where this is heading despite both of us looking for settling down soon. I realize my situation makes it hard to meet and understand each other and I want you to understand more and more as I begin to trust you.

I hope you understand when I say I would like this to be between us. You see I am frequently in the public eye. Magazines, websites, articles, you name it. It's always been hard to meet people who are genuinely interested in me as a person either being friends or more. I don't have many close friends who I completely trust, I have a few and they're all very trustworthy, but a lot of people I have thought were my friends have used me in some way either for money or publicity.

I do not however believe you would do such a thing which is why I am telling you this. As much as I would like to completely trust you with everything, I can not and for that, I am truly sorry. I hope you understand because talking to you has been amazing and the highlight of this trip. Before I am home you will know the complete truth and hopefully, you will understand what being with me would entail in your normal lives.

Anyway, I bought you some things I have found around the local shops and gift shops. Some are cheesy crap that I thought was a good laugh while others were thought out and meaningful. I hope.

Yours,

Harold

Louis was only a tad confused, but after a second read through it made more sense. Louis folded the letter up and slipped it into the envelope ignoring the looks he was receiving before he pulled back the tissue paper. Everything was neatly and carefully wrapped in bubble wrapping even what Louis thought was a stuffed teddy which was ridiculous but cute in a way. He pulled the first item out and undone the bubble wrap revealing a Teddy bear as he thought with the German flag on the white shirt. Louis grinned as he fixed the shirt.

"Wow, a five-pound teddy. Impressive." Niall said

"Oh stop there's more in here he said there's a mix of cheesy cliche things and meaningful things. I find it cute."

And Louis meant that as he set the Teddy on the couch to grab the next Teddy. All the teddys were on top of the other items so he went through Poland, Denmark, Norway, Sweden, Finland, Japan, and Russia teddy bears. All the same bear and after Louis had lined them up he took a picture of them and sent them to Harold.

"I already don't like you two together." Zayn said

"Oh let Louis get spoiled. It's cute." Liam said hitting his fiance, "what else did he get you? T-shirts?" Louis glared at him as he debated which item to grab next.

There were a few boxes that had the German flag sticker on the bubble wrap so he grabbed those. He knew when they started talking Harry was almost leaving Germany so he was a little surprised Harry bought something from the country. What he unwrapped was boxes of German chocolate and German teas. Then there were boxes of natural wooden toys safe for children and Louis grinned knowing those were for the daycare that Louis had told Harry he bought toys for regularly. He honestly couldn't wait to open those boxes with the kids and test them out so he set those off to the side making a new pile.

He then moved on to Denmark flag items which were a simple black striped vase with a note that said ''Kähler Ceramics-For Your Future Flowers''. Following the vase was a Nisse souvenir, a little mermaid figurine, Danish chocolates of course, and Danish knitted sweaters just big enough for him to snuggle into which he had told Harry he liked to do often on cold winter days.

Moving onto Norway there were more sweaters which Louis was not complaining about one bit. They were all warm and big and he knew he'd wear them often. There were some Norwegian books printed in English that fit what he liked to read. Then there was of course the Norwegian chocolate.

After Norway was Russia and the first thing Louis pulled out was a Matryoshka doll, a few beautiful Russian lacquer boxes, a few birch bark crafts, and a lot of Russian sweets and chocolate. There was a large item that had the Russian flag sticker, but Louis could get to it yet so he moved on to Japan.

The Japanese souvenirs and gifts were a beautiful set of chopsticks that looked more for display than actual eating, a few Kendama toys, a few Koma toys, a Maneki Neko, a Japanese folding fan, a few different Daruma dolls, a Wagasa, and last some sweats and chocolate.

Finally able to get the last item out which was the main reason the box had to be so big. Multiple sticky notes were saying to grab it from the bottom and to be GENTLE. Louis was grinning as he bent over and grabbed the little edges that had arrows pointing to them in sticky notes.

"Need help?" Niall asked

"He says to be gentle not that it's breakable so hopefully not." Louis very carefully pulled out the gift. Niall moved the box away letting Louis set it on the coffee table.

He gently began unwrapping the smallest piece revealing a beautiful teapot and immediately he knew. He knew exactly what this was and he was going to kill him, he was going to murder Harold as he unwrapped the matching tray moving on to what he now knew to be a Samovar.

When it was revealed it was gorgeous and Louis didn't know if he wanted to cry or scream or faint. He immediately grabbed the Samovar and headed into the kitchen pouring water into the kettle and putting tea leaves into the teapot. He then plugged the Samovar into the outlet and turned it to its highest setting letting the water boil. Once that was down he poured the boiling water into the teapot and then the tea into a mug all in the manner of 12 minutes. Louis moaned shamelessly after the first sip of hot strong tea.

"So..it makes tea?" Niall asked

"It keeps water simmering so I never run out of hot water for my tea. I've been wanting one for years, but they cost hundreds of- oh that bastard."

"LOUIS HAS A RICH BOYFRIEND!" Liam shouted teasingly, making Louis glare at him as he grabbed his phone off the couch seeing Harry had messaged him back after he sent him the two photos.

Thought they were cute and hoped you'd like the cheesiness of it.

We need to talk about that last gift Harold.

No, we don't.

Yes, we do.

Nope.

Yes.

No. Absolutely not. Not talking about it...do you like it?

It's beautiful and lovely and I've already made some tea.

Good. So there's nothing to talk about then.

No more gifts!

😳😳😟😟😦😦🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺😨😨😰😰😥😥😢😢😭😭😭

Did you just send emojis explaining your sadness over my text?!?

Yes. I'm sending more for December. Your birthday is Christmas Eve Louis, I can't ignore that!

Well, how am I supposed to send you gifts if you're traveling?

Easily. You don't. 😁😁

😐🤨

😇😇

🤨🤨

(The story gets better after this chapter I promise.)

#larry fanfiction #larry stylinson #work in progress #new story #larry fic #archive of our own #wattpad

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sweetsyncraft · 4 years

Text

SweetSyn’s Guide To Etsy

(I will add more as I learn more)

When I officially started my Etsy in 2018, I had no idea what I was doing. I’ve constantly had people asking me what tips I had for getting started. Unfortunately, I told them you needed a following to make sales. Boy was I wrong. SEO is the key. Buckle up, I’m going to learn you a few things. (I’m Texan don’t judge me for that sentence.)

“Search Engine Optimization”, which is the reason when you search for something on Etsy, you see a bunch of bland titles. Being Creative with titles will only hurt you. You need to have targeted, keyword-based titles and tags, to make sure you end up at the top of the food chain.

Listing Titles

This part is long due to the fact that I never knew how important this was.

The best way to do this is to start typing in what you’re selling into the Etsy search bar. Any related autocomplete phrases that are related to the pop-up list, is what should be in your title. (Keyword 1 - Keyword 2 - Keyword 3 - Keyword 4) and so forth. For example, I simply clicked on the search bar and it gave me a list of the current most popular searches. One of them was marble earrings, and the first listing had the best selling badge. Their title was “Handmade Polymer Clay Marble Triangle Earrings | Minimalist Geometric Earrings | Hypoallergenic Surgical Steel Stud | Multiple Size”. The second listing, from another shop, was “Marble Stud Earrings, Marble Jewelry, Round Stud Earrings, Wedding Stud Earrings, Marble Studs, Statement Studs, Minimalist Studs”.

I know how tempting it is to come up with a clever name for your listing, but Etsy doesn’t like that. Putting a long title full of keywords makes it more likely for someone to see your listing without searching through 240 pages. Yes, there were exactly 240 pages of marble earrings. The last one, way at the end was simply titled “Rosé Marble Earrings”. I don’t know about you, but I have no idea how to put that little mark over the ‘e’ when typing on a computer.

The second part of this is being more specific than just ‘marble earrings’. If someone is looking for something more specific than marble earrings they’re going to search more of what they want. This is how you separate yourself from everyone else on those 240 pages. The two listings I found were round studs and the other was geometric triangles. Maybe I hate circles, and I specifically want triangles, so I search “marble triangle earrings”. That’s in the title of the first listing, I’m going to find that listing.

DO NOT PUT YOUR SKU’S IN YOUR TITLES! You will lose sales because of this. Your title is very important, no one is going to be searching “866798Q”

Additionally, Etsy will not show more than one or two items per seller on any given page of search results. That way smaller shops have a bit more of a chance. Make sure you’re targeting different keywords per listing, or you’ll be competing with yourself.

After a few months, go into your listing analytics to see which keywords are getting that listing more views. You may find that your main keyword, or the first few words in your title, isn’t working as well as another one. If something is working better, make it the first part of the title, and you should even more views.

Adding titles in other languages will not help your listing. Etsy automatically translates for other languages.

I’ve seen a few people say that Etsy has changed and that they don’t like ‘title stuffing’. However, that’s not the case in what I’ve seen. The entire first two pages of marble earrings were nothing but long ‘stuffed’ titles.

This is a comment from an admin of one of the Etsy Facebook groups I’m in, he is a social media marketer:

“YES title stuffing is bad and you should not do it, because Etsy & Google do not count that as quality SEO.

However, we must first understand exactly what "Title Stuffing or Keyword Stuffing" really is.

Keyword stuffing is when someone fills a webpage (in this case an Etsy title) with the same keywords they want to rank for, over and over again in hopes that the more times they use the keywords the more relevant Etsy and Google will see their page or listing.”

...

“Now as far as your Etsy title goes you should absolutely use your keywords, but not repeated over and over again, while also keeping a non-robotic tone.

2 examples of title stuffing:

Basically stuffing the same word over and over again.

2. Title stuffing for the maximum keywords: Comfy Baby Shirt, comfortable, for boys, for girls, gifts, cheap, organic, cotton, romper, jumpsuits, newborn, baby clothes

Both of these examples are using spammy tricks to rank high. But this will not work and both Etsy and Google will ignore you.

You want your title to sound fluent and not like a robot while using your keywords.

Also, you want to avoid changing up your titles too much, because your listings SEO needs to season a bit for maximum effectiveness.”

Tags

A major thing that I have learned over this process is that your tags must be written in sentences and not individual words. For example instead of marble, earring, earrings, geometric, geometrical, your tags should be Marble Earrings, Studded Earrings, Geometric Jewelry. MOST IMPORTANTLY! Use ALL 13 tags! Think about what makes your product unique, you don’t need to repeat categories and attributes. You also don’t need to use the same keywords as your title, unless you want to highlight a certain keyword. Tags and titles that do not relate to your listing, can have a negative impact on your visibility.

Fill out everything you can on the listing, such as categories and attributes, which also act like tags. The more you fill out the more likely someone will find your listings.

Adding tags in other languages will not help your listing. Etsy automatically translates for other languages.

Pricing

Be mindful of everyone else’s prices, customers are not only going to look for quality, but also the best deal. Though, you don’t want to end up making a negative profit.

Cost of goods (per product) + Profit (I like to do the cost of supplies x2) + Shipping (if you’re doing free shipping) = Price

The reason I double the dost of supplies for my profit is for in case something goes wrong, I still made a little money for my time. You made need to adjust this to compete with other sellers.

Shipping

Etsy gives priority to listings with free shipping in the search results, it also sounds a bit better to the customer. Don’t worry you won’t lose out on money by offering it, all you have to do is include the shipping cost in the price.

However, if you do plan on offering international shipping, I recommend charging for it. I live in Texas, and it costs $8 dollars to ship a sticker to Canada. Whereas shipping to Maine only costs 70 cents.

Play around with shipping options, it took me a long time to learn that sending stickers as a letter, instead of a package or flat envelope, is MUCH cheaper. The downside, there is no tracking number. So I only recommend this for items that are very cheap to remake.

Photos

Your product photo is the first thing that is going to be seen when someone is searching for an item. I made the major mistake of not caring what my photos looked like for the longest time. From lazily taking a screenshot of my Cricut design space for a decal listing, to setting my mugs on my tacky paint-covered table. Don’t do this, make your photos look professional. Now I’m not saying go hire a photographer to take your photos. Simply lining a bix with paper, or draping a sheet over a chair can create a perfect backdrop.

Put your best photo first.

A 2017 survey showed that 90% of Etsy shoppers said the photo quality was very important in their decision making. Think about it as, if you don’t take the time for quality photos, that most likely means you’re not taking the time to make quality products.

When posting your photos on the web browser version of Etsy, your image needs to be at least 2000 pixels wide. A simple way to fix this, the way I do, is resizing the photo in Paint 3D or a photo editor. Another way is simply making the listing on the mobile app because it won’t have that requirement.

Description

I don’t know if this is true, but I’ve heard it from a few people, repeat your title in the description.

This is yet another thing I struggled with. I felt that the title said enough, what more was there to explain about a car decal, other than the size? Well, a lot. Now I’m not saying be one of those annoying recipe pages, that gives their life story before getting to the ingredients and the actual recipe. Just make sure it tells exactly what the customer expects to receive.

Don’t copy someone else’s description, develop your own voice. Give all the details you can about your product, because just like policies, this can save you from something going wrong. The customer isn’t able to touch your product and get a full feel of what it is. A well-written description can be the make or break of a sale.

Play 20 questions with yourself.

Reviews

You’re bound to get a bad review at some point. Don’t let it be the thing that shuts you down, and ruins your shop. Message the customer and see what you can do to change their review. If you can’t change it, don’t worry. Learn and improve from it. When looking at reviews, I hardly ever take the negative ones seriously, unless there’s a lot of them. If you have 50 good reviews and 5 negatives, you’re going to be okay.

Sometimes you have to take the hit and lose some profit. Say their package gets lost in the mail, and there’s nothing that can be done about it. You may have to refund them or send them another. Something I’ve always done to keep customers happy, if something goes wrong I send a small freebie with the replacement. Usually, it’s something extra that I have laying around.

Marketing

Social Media is your best friend! Use everything you can, and HASHTAGS! HASHTAGS! HASHTAGS! Before I even started TikTok or Etsy, I wanted to have a huge Instagram following. I ended up with 1,000 followers, just by using a ton of hashtags. No matter what site you’re using, if it allows you, use every hashtag under the sun. This is where you can get extra with it, especially Instagram and Tumblr where you don’t have a limit. Just make sure you separate it from your caption.

Using social media to grow a following can help so much! I would never have made it through 2020 without my following. Seeing a more personal side of you can help a lot, and you’ll even make some amazing friends along the way! The most rewarding thing is when you’re told you inspired someone to start making arts and crafts or living their dream.

Other Information

Make sure your policies are clear. If you do not offer refunds or returns, and a customer reports you for not refunding them, this will save you!

Experiment with things, see what works best for you! Having a following and ignoring all of this worked for me for two years. Eventually, my TikTok views dwindled, meaning sales went with it.

The more items you have listed, the more likely you are to be seen. Try to post something new once a month. Additionally, the more you have the more likely someone that found exactly what they wanted, will buy more from you. If they see something else they like while looking at one item, you’re making more money.

Categories are much easier to do on a web browser. All you have to do is type in what your listing and it will give you suggestions. Mobile Etsy is nearly impossible to figure out where to list decals and stickers. You’d never guess to look in electronics, would you?

Helpful Sites

https://keywordseverywhere.com/

https://www.thesaurus.com/

https://erank.com/

https://www.keysearch.co/

https://www.keywordtooldominator.com/

https://seller.tools/

Resources

https://printify.com/blog/2020-etsy-seo-secrets-all-you-need-to-know/

#etsy #etsy seo #seo #search engine optimization #search engine organization #etys seller #small business #sweetsyn #sweetsyncraft

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bytheangell · 5 years

Text

Raise a Glass to the Past

(Read on AO3)

Present Day

“I was looking through your files again at work today,” Alec says, leaning his head back against Magnus’ shoulder. They’re both on the sofa, Alec nestled comfortably in the space between Magnus’ legs, leaning against Magnus while Magnus leans back against the cushions. They each hold a glass of white wine after dinner, enjoying the breeze coming in through the open balcony door, listening to the faint sound of rain falling just beyond the wall. “Again?” Magnus asks, a light laugh chasing his words. “Ran a full Nephilim background check on me before we started dating, didn’t you?”

Alec knows the words are spoken in jest, but the memories they bring up leave the current Head of the New York Institute biting down on his lower lip, considering his next words carefully.

“Actually…” Alec starts before stopping abruptly. It’s a strangely personal series of events to explain, even if they all involve Magnus; somehow the idea of telling him about it brings up a lot of conflicting emotions in Alec He’s embarrassed at the guilt he felt for most of his life, at how he thought so much about the man he loves before he ever met him, that this man who changed his entire life from the second they did meet managed to shape so much of it even before that moment, without ever realizing...

What will Magnus think if he tells him now?

“Actually, sort of. But not intentionally. See, when I was probably about 5 or 6…”

---

Alec, age 6

Alec finds his way once more behind his father’s desk at the New York Institute. There are files up, files that he knows he shouldn’t be reading, but ever since he learned how to string full sentences together he’s absorbed every word he could lay his eyes on. And that includes dossiers left on computer screens in the same room as him while his father runs down to the ops room for a moment to deal with some emergency or another.

Even kneeling on the large chair his head doesn’t clear the back of it, blocking him from view of anyone passing by the open door. Which is good, because if they did see him he probably wouldn’t get to read the page about a warlock that’s front and center, with a black-and-white photo of a man with spiked hair, slit cat-eyes, and a grin that makes Alec smile back even though he knows the man in the photo isn’t smiling at him. Magnus Bane. Those aren’t words Alec knows, but they’re words he’s heard out loud before. A name.

His father comes back and scolds him for touching his computer (which, Alec defends, he didn’t technically do, he only read what was already open), before being ordered to re-read the section of the Shadowhunters Codex on Warlocks if he’s so damn interested in them. Alec dutifully slumps out of the chair to obey, his copy of the book marked with dozens of pencil circles of words he doesn’t know to ask about later. He’s only half focused, however, his mind frequently drifting back to the eyes and the smile of the man in the photo.

---

Present Day

“I was your first Downworlder file. How cute.” There’s a hint of sarcasm to Magnus’ tone, one that Alec doesn’t take personally. He knows the tone of those sorts of files and the reasons why his father might’ve had it up on the computer that day. But there’s also a hint of actual endearment over the idea that Alec remembers that, even now.

“You were,” Alec confirms. “And I have to admit, as a suggestible youth, I didn’t have the best impression of you at first.”

“Oh, no?” At this Magnus straights up a bit, shifting behind Alec on the sofa. There’s no turning back now, Alec, realizes, not after piquing Magnus’ curiosity like that.

“I’m sure you can imagine, but any files the Institute had on you weren’t painted in the most positive of lights…”

---

Alec, age 8

It isn’t long before the Institute’s records, both on the computer and in the library, become freely available to Alec. He’s reached a point in his training and studies where it’s easier for him to simply look up answers on his own when he can rather than run everything back to Hodge or his parents. Because he stays out of trouble and does what he’s told when he’s told to do it (as much as any kid does, certainly more than Jace or Isabelle at the very least) he’s left to his own devices for most of the time he’s not in a lesson or training.

This means no one is around to see him stop at Magnus Bane’s file almost every time he goes to look something else up… or should he say, files, plural. There are a lot of files on him, Alec notices, many marking him as a criminal in varying degrees: lying during Clave Inquiries, harboring fugitives, refusing to assist in investigations when his services were requested, aligning with dissenting Downworlders against Clave sanctions throughout the centuries. The bottom line is always a general disregard for the Nephilim which is all Alec is able to discern from the words on the page when he first comes across them.

It seems simple enough at first read. He isn’t familiar with all of the terms he comes across or every single one of the various laws and regulations broken, but he doesn’t question them. This is a very powerful warlock who is capable of doing a lot of damage - and he doesn’t seem to listen to any of the rules. Hiding fugitives, helping criminals. If Magnus Bane is on the Clave’s radar then it must be for good reason, High Warlock or not.

So when everyone around him tells Alec that Magnus is not to be trusted, despite the fact that he still feels inexplicably drawn towards the cat-eyed warlock in the photos, Alec forces himself to believe them.

---

Present Day

“And what number is that file up to these days?” Magnus asks with an amused smile.

“Right now? Pending review of wiping your record clean after, you know, saving the entirety of Idris and all,” Alec says, shifting himself forward enough to turn to face Magnus on the sofa as he takes a sip of his wine. “Plus, I don’t think Jia liked the idea of the Head of the New York Institute being married to someone with such an extensive criminal record.”

They both laugh at that, Magnus shaking his head incredulously. “I don’t know… that’s a lot of history to erase. I think I’d like it better if they kept it - we could print it out and frame my accomplishments, hang them over the fireplace.”

Alec shrugs. “We both know most of those violations were bullshit anyway,” he points out. “Do we?” Magnus challenges playfully. “Because a moment ago you were telling me all about how young Alec Lightwood thought Magnus Bane was nothing more than a dastardly, dangerous lawbreaker.”

Alec rolls his eyes. “I didn’t stay that naive forever.”

---

Alec, age 10

Alec never stops asking questions, always eager to learn more, so no one thinks twice about it when he starts to ask them about the High Warlock of Brooklyn. He’s careful to approach a wide range of adults around the Institute so no single person will see that the cases he ‘randomly’ chooses to read up on for his studies all happen to revolve around a singular Warlock.

What he learns, slowly, is that the only danger Magnus Bane poses is to the stuffy older members of the Clave who wouldn’t know how to be nice to someone if they tried. Almost all of the fugitive harboring Magnus is guilty of turns out to be for injured or wrongfully accused Downworlders (though the Clave didn’t know they were wrongfully accused at the time). But Magnus knew, and he protected them when he thought the Clave probably wouldn’t listen to a word they said if they were taken in.

The more Alec learns about his people, the more he starts to realize that they believe they’re better than everyone else in the Shadow World. The rules are set up to favor them because they enforce the rules. The Nephilim are in a position of power in the Shadow World, dealing out justice as they see fit - this is a lesson taught to him now as something to pride himself on, but instead it leaves him feeling uneasy.

He wants to talk to Downworlders about it but he’s forbidden. They would only feed him lies, the older Shadowhunters tell him. He doesn’t need to confuse his mind with so many sides of the same story when their side is right here for him on a silver platter. When their side, the right side, is the only one that matters.

Someone must talk to his parents because soon he’s told to stop asking questions about Magnus Bane. His job is to learn what he’s taught, to do as he’s told.

Except his questions don’t stop there, not about Magnus, and not about himself.

His parents take him to the wedding of a family friend and with tears in her eyes his mother smiles down at him and says “One day you’ll meet a nice young lady, and I’ll be watching you up there.”

Alec thinks of all the girls his age and frowns. He doesn’t like any of them that way, even though he knows one or two have a crush on him. Their friends giggle about it and try to push them together during sparring, but Alec mostly finds it annoying.

“Does it have to be a girl?” Alec whines. When he thinks of the people who make him smile, the people he might want to spend the rest of his life with (which doesn’t mean much to a nine year old who thinks the break between dinner and dessert is an eternity) his thoughts drift to a boy or two in his training classes, and then to some photos in a database that bring him more comfort than he even fully realizes.

“Of course it does. Why would you even-” Maryse almost dismisses before her gaze turns sharp, almost fearful.

“What if I want to marry a boy?” It’s such a simple, innocent question. He hasn’t liked any girls yet, but there are a few boys he think he might. So it only makes sense that instead of a nice young lady he’d want to marry a nice young man.

“No, Alec. Shadowhunter boys don’t marry other boys. It isn’t-” Maryse falters. “They just don’t. You just haven’t met the right girl yet, but you will. I promise.”

Alec considers this. “But what if-”

“Alec, I said no. This isn’t up for discussion. And don’t ever mention this to anyone else, okay? Especially not to your father.” They’re speaking in whispers to begin with, and though Robert is only two seats away on the other side of Isabelle he’s entirely oblivious to the conversation. Izzy looks like she may have been listening but turns her head quickly.

Alec simply nods and keeps the rest of his thoughts on the matter to himself, not just for that day but for years to come.

---

Alec, present day

“I always knew how I felt was different, but that was the first time I realized it was wrong,” Alec admits. “And up to that point I was nothing but the perfect son, I didn’t want-- I didn’t want to ruin that.”

“Maryse knew,” Magnus realizes, surprised.

Alec nods. “My father was the only one who didn’t, or maybe he was just in such deep denial he convinced himself he didn’t notice. But I think everyone else had an idea, at least. Izzy was the only one who ever tried to bring it up but I denied it long enough that she stopped trying. My mom never mentioned it again after that wedding, and neither did I. Well, not until…”

“Not until your wedding,” Magnus says, smirking ever so slightly.

“It was kind of hard not to talk about it after the stunt you pulled, yeah,” Alec points out, and though he tries to sound accusatory he’s smiling back, unable to help himself. .

“The stunt I pulled? It takes two to tango, Mister. You could’ve just taken me out of the room to talk, you didn’t have to make out with me in a hall full of Shadowhunters,” Magnus counters, eyebrow raised in amusement before growing serious once more. “I’m sorry you felt like you had to hide who you are for so long.”

“Yeah,” Alec agrees. “Me too.”

---

Alec, age 12

“Please?” Alec begs, hazel eyes large as he tugs at the back of his mother’s dress. “Let me go to the meeting! I promise I’ll behave. I won’t say a word, you won’t even know I’m there.” He’s twelve-and-three-quarters now, nearly thirteen whole years old. Plenty old enough to sit in on a meeting. In fact, his parents have dragged him along to countless meetings he didn’t want to be in, so he doesn’t know why this one is such a big deal.

Maryse shares a look with Robert who only shakes his head. “You can come to the next meeting we have with the Clave. Not this one. I don’t even want to be in this one.” Alec’s father mutters the last bit, earning him a reproachful look from Maryse.

“But I don’t want to go to a Clave meeting. I want to go to this one,” Alec insists.

“Why this one?” Maryse asks, and Alec opens his mouth to answer before snapping it shut again quickly. What can he tell them? That he overheard them talking about meeting with the local Warlock representative? That he wants to be in the same room as Magnus for more than 5 seconds, to hear the man speak and see if he’s anything like what Alec imagines after reading every report on him they have?

“Because I already know a lot about Shadowhunter things. I want to learn more about Warlocks, too.” Not a total lie.

Both Maryse and Robert exchange a hesitant look. “Alec, sweetie. The man we have to meet with… well, he doesn’t like us very much. It’s already going to be a very difficult meeting... Maybe we can bring you along to talk with some other warlock another time. You just be good for Hodge, okay? We’ll be back soon.”

They’re gone before Alec can ask any of the dozen follow-up questions running through his head. Us? Did Magnus not like him either, even though they never met? Did he hate all Shadowhunters? So many questions that Alec knows he’ll never get the answers to because he knows better than to ask now.

...then again, maybe no answer is better than getting a truth he doesn’t want to hear.

While his parents are gone he goes back to the computer. Back to the files and the photos. It’s safe, and it’s become almost a ritual habit by this point to imagine a world where the things he’s starting to feel for boys isn’t something he can’t talk about; a world where his gaze can linger on more than just a photo on a screen without being seen as a cause for concern.

---

Alec, age 14

“Son, we need to talk. You’re coming of an age now when you’re going to start having… impulses. You see, when you like a girl-” Robert Lightwood begins after making it a point to call Alec into his room after watching one of the girls in his class flirt with him endlessly during his last training session, going so far as to try and lean up for a kiss after he pinned her to the mat. Alec had never moved so fast in his life to jump back from it but apparently that part was lost on his father. The fact that Alec got a lot of attention from the girls his age, however, was not overlooked.

Alec doesn’t have the heart to tell him that he already knows all about sex. Word travels fast once one kid gets The Talk and his dad is a year and a half late to this party. He also doesn’t have the heart to tell him that liking girls, Alec is now entirely certain, is never going to be an issue.

Or perhaps it’s going to be the biggest issue, because his mother’s words still echo in his head, creating a cycle of guilt and shame every time he does feel an impulse, just not about any of the girls he’s around. He barely looks at the other boys, afraid of what might happen if he looks too long, or the wrong way. Afraid someone will notice… that someone will know.

For now he forces himself to smile back at the giggling girls, but he hates it. And every time Jace ends up stepping in oozing charm to pull the attention away from him it leaves him feeling equal parts grateful and sick to his stomach, because he wants Jace to smile at him like that. He wants any boy to smile at him like that.

Except every time a boy is even remotely kind to him he’s afraid it’s because of something he did that he didn’t realize, or something he let slip that he didn’t catch, and so he closes himself off entirely. He throws himself completely into training, into work, and into files stored away he sometimes forgets are for everyone’s use, and not just his own personal escape.

---

Alec, age 17

Duty first, his father tells him. He’s being raised to run an Institute, to help bring the Lightwood name back to its former glory and prestige. That leaves no room for error… it certainly leaves no room for his attraction to guys, especially not his troubling feelings for his parabatai or his increasing infatuation with Magnus Bane.

His exposure to Downworlders has increased significantly since he, Izzy, and Jace began sneaking out to a Downworld-run diner downtown. Izzy and Jace have both dallied in the company of romantic partners who would give their parents a heart attack to learn about, but not Alec. He watches from afar, daydreaming but never partaking. He can’t, not with anyone he actually wants to. Part of him knows that they’d never say anything if he told them but he doesn’t want to put that sort of burden on either of them. Because that’s what it is, and that’s all it will ever be: a burden.

He gets the feeling he’d be more easily forgiven for wanting to spend his time with downworlder girls than Shadowhunter boys, if his feelings were simply an act of teenage rebellion. If only. He knows by now that Shadowhunter, Downworlder, or even mundane, the only people he’s ever going to like are going to be boys. And he knows that will never be okay.

So instead of smiling back at the waiter he keeps pointedly avoiding eye contact with he watches after Izzy and Jace, yearning for the freedom they have and their honest sense of selves. They can afford to sneak out, to mess up, to disappoint - the same pressures and expectations aren’t put on them that are put on him, and he envies them for it. He shoulders the burdens so they don’t have to, defending them at every turn in the hopes they never feel the crippling shame he experiences every single day.

---

Alec, age 20

Alec gets stuck with the task of assisting with updating all of the databases with more up-to-date photos after getting caught sneaking into the Institute at 3 am one night. In truth, he only allowed himself to get caught by security in order to buy Jace and Izzy enough time to run in the opposite direction - both of them are already on probation this month while he has, as usual, a nearly spotless record. He’ll take the hit this time and they’ll owe him a huge favor later, one he’ll be sure to make count.

“I can’t believe he supplied us with his own photos,” says a voice followed by laughter from one of the other Shadowhunters on the project.

“Who?” Alec asks, only half-listening for the answer. He doesn’t particularly care,

“Magnus Bane,” comes the reply in a tone full of contempt. Alec freezes, nearly dropping the stack of photos in his hands. “Said, and I quote, ‘Our security cameras never pick up his good side’.”

“Let me see,” Alec manages, wondering if he sounds as anxious as he feels. They all look over the offering Magnus sent over, most of which are from that club in town that he owns now, Pandemonium. Some of the photos are just him, others have an assortment of men and women in extremely close proximity. One photo looks downright compromising and Alec has to turn away quickly to avoid anyone seeing the fierce blush that crosses his face. It’s the first time he realizes that maybe Magnus is like him, a simple reminder that he can’t possibly be the only person in the entirety of the shadow world who likes the same gender. Magnus looks so comfortable, so carefree in that photo, and Alec wants that, too.

For a moment he closes his eyes and imagines a world where he has a chance at happiness without having to hide, where he can be bold enough to take a photo with another man, to leave a lingering touch--

And then it’s gone.

The names and jokes that follow at Magnus’ expense make Alec’s blood boil as much as they make his stomach turn, because a lot of them could just as easily be aimed at him. They are, indirectly, not that anyone other than him knows it. Alec doesn’t know how long it goes on before something inside him snaps.

“He really isn’t that bad, you know,” Alec mutters.

“What was that, Lightwood?” One of his peers questions.

“Magnus Bane,” Alec says, louder now. “From what I’ve read on his file, he really isn’t that bad. Most of his charges were due to misinformation.”

“I heard he and Camille Belcourt were a thing once. Bet he gets her to just encanto everyone who catches him,” one suggests.

“Yeah. My father was part of a raid on some rogue werewolves Bane defended in the early 90s. He never got charged for that, either, but my uncle nearly died,” another says.

Alec decides to cut his losses and not bring up the fact that most of those raids were unjustified, the charges were dropped because the warlocks and werewolves were only reacting in self-defense.

The photos Magnus sent in end up in the trash and the standard security camera footage uploaded in their place. Alec can’t help but think that the photos are unnecessary anyway - every side is Magnus’ ‘good side’.

---

Present Day

Magnus rolls his eyes. “Do you know how long it took me to pick out the best photos for that?” he says with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “The least they could’ve done is return them to me. Didn’t have to throw them out.”

Alec, however, finds it difficult to be amused by the story, even now. “Doesn’t it bother you? That that’s how some Shadowhunters see you? Not just you, but all of the Downworlders?” It’s something that’s bothered Alec more and more ever since he saw the sort of reception Magnus got for the brief period he stayed at the Institute with him. Of course Alec isn’t naive enough to think the bias is gone, that people would change their minds overnight just because the Head of the Institute was with a Downworlder, but… he expects more than what he got. He expects better. Magnus deserves better.

“Of course it does, Alexander. But there are some people so stuck in their antiquated ways that they’ll never change, not for you, and certainly not for me. If I worried about everyone with an unfavorable opinion of me then I wouldn’t have any energy left for the people actually worth my time and effort. People like you.”

Alec relaxes a little at that.

“I wasn’t so sure I’d be one of those people when the first time I saw you at Pandemonium ended with you fleeing through a Portal,” Alec admits.

---

Alec, age 24

Alec keeps an eye on Jace and Clary… and Magnus. It’s the closest he’s been in years, not trusting his own instinctive reactions enough to dare come to the club on his own. Magnus is so much more attractive in person, and the guilt that wells up inside of him at the simple observation is nearly enough to drown under.

He doesn’t have long to dwell on it before a Circle member sneaks up behind Magnus and Alec takes him out with one well-aimed shot from his arrow, careful to avoid eye contact with Magnus as he walks by him to retrieve his arrow and scan the crowded room for other attackers. He has a job to do, he can’t allow his emotions to distract him.

“Who are you?” Magnus asks out loud, unaware that a few recently activated runes allows Alec to hear the words over the thump of the music even at this distance. Alec has to fight against the shiver of anticipation that runs down his spine in that moment.

Because Magnus Bane may not know who he is - not yet - but Alec certainly knows who he is. How do you explain to someone you just met that they’ve held your interest for years? Short answer: you don’t.

Alec focuses on his arrow, on the Circle member, and by the time he turns back around Magnus is gone and Alec’s following Jace, Clary, and Izzy out of the club without looking back.

Alec doesn’t miss his chance the next time they meet, not long after and under strangely similar circumstances.

“Well done,” Alec says, allowing his bow to drop slowly once he’s certain his arrow hit its mark. His shot is followed quickly by a blast of blue magic which renders the circle member unconscious. Alec looks away from Magnus, aware of how long he’s waited for this moment: their first meeting. Just to be in the same room as him--

“More like medium rare,” Magnus says, and Alec’s thankful he’s looking away because he doesn’t know what he’d do if his first proper interaction with Magnus Bane is for him to catch Alec rolling his eyes at the pun.

It isn’t long before Magnus makes his way across the room and into Alec’s space. “I’m Magnus, I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced?”

“Alec.” He smiles. The only thing he can think is that the photos and faraway glances didn’t do justice to even half of Magnus’ beauty. And then he realizes he’s staring, smiling like some dopey schoolboy, and he can’t seem to make his mouth stop grinning. “Um, we uh, should really, uh, probably get, you know…”

Alec silently prays to the Angel for the ground to open him up and swallow him whole, which would be far less excruciating than his fumbling. Magnus, to his credit, doesn’t seem deterred. “Right. We should join the party,” Magnus agrees, finishing his thought for him.

And the rest? Well, the rest is history. Their history.

---

Present Day

As he finishes recounting the impact Magnus had on his life before they even met, Alec’s face is a little flush despite the cool autumn air; whether it’s from the tinge of embarrassment over the story he kept to himself for so long or the alcohol (which he blames for blurting all of that out) finally starting to get to him he can’t tell.

“Alexander…” Magnus says, voice soft and eyes full of an emotion that Alec can’t quite place at first. “I had no clue-”

“Of course you didn’t,” Alec says with a soft laugh. “You had no way of knowing. Honestly, I never even planned on telling you. But that’s what made it so easy for me to trust you from the very start - I knew you were a good person before I even met you. It wasn’t just that I always dreamed of meeting someone like you… I just always dreamed of meeting you.” Alec takes a deep breath. “But do you know what finally made it sink in that it didn’t have to be just a dream?”

Magnus doesn’t ask what, he doesn’t have to. The curiosity is written all over his face and he remains silent, giving Alec the time to finish his story at his own pace.

“The day we tried to get Clary’s memories back, when I ruined the summoning circle. You told me I didn’t have anything to be ashamed of,” Alec’s voice is quiet now. “It was the first time I had the hope that that might be true. That there might be one person out there who wouldn’t look at me, at what I wanted or who I wanted, and only see something that needed to be hidden.”

Magnus reaches across and takes his hand. “I’m glad you listened.”

“I’m glad you didn’t give up on me,” Alec admits. “I didn’t exactly make it easy on you.”

But Magnus shakes his head. “All my life, the only times Shadowhunters were willing to give me a chance were when they needed something from me: a deal, or a favor. You aren’t the first to see that file and form a judgement, but you’re one of the first to look beyond it. To see me as a person, and not just someone with something to offer.” Magnus smiles again. “It seems to me, Alexander, that you didn’t give up on me, either.”

Alec thinks about that for a moment and nods, and then turns and grabs his glass of wine. “To not giving up on each other, then” he offers.

Magnus mirrors the motion, glass meeting glass in the space between them on the sofa. “To never giving up on each other.”

They drink, and Magnus shifts to lean back against Alec, Alec’s hand moving up to brush through his husband’s hair. The last thing Alec thinks as they drift off to sleep on the sofa, Magnus first and Alec close behind, is how nice it is to go from never dreaming he’d have someone like Magnus in his life to dreaming about Magnus every time he closes his eyes, no longer ashamed of the love he deserves.

#magnus bane #alec lightwood #malec #shadowhunters #maryse lightwood #this was a prompt/idea given to me a few months back by some people I adore #and I took a lot of time to hopefully do it justice because it was such an AMAZING concept #so I hope you all enjoy it! And check the AO3 for links to the lovely minds who came up with the concept!#elle writes a few deadbeat lines #long post #like REALLY LONG POST #tw: homophobia #tw: internalized homophobia

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avoutput · 4 years

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Final Fantasy VII Legacy || Memories of a Great Storm

Legacies take shape before you, around you, through you, and beyond you. As incredible as it might be to be the subject of a legacy, the true strength of a legacy is how it builds you up. When you are young and finding yourself, the building process is a ride, a rumbling beneath your feet, wet clouds in the sky above your head. When a legacy is forming, there are signs that you are still too young to see, but you can feel it. It beckons to you, wanting you to be a part of it. You want to stand at the shore of its coming alongside all the others who want to feel the waves at their feet. Like all storms, everything has to be just right. And like a tree falling in the woods, someone has to be there to witness it, to tell its tale, and in doing so, this tale becomes woven into you. Because it isn’t just the storm, the waves, the quaking that makes the legacy, it’s the people who survive that keep it alive. Final Fantasy VII was for me, this great storm.

The first time I played Final Fantasy VII was on the floor of my cousin’s room on Christmas day. Every tsunami starts as a ripple. I didn’t have a Playstation. In fact, despite reading multiple gaming magazines, I must have glazed past it, because I had never even heard of it. I was too blinded by the Nintendo 64 and its legacy. I went from a Nintendo baby to a Sega kid between console generations, and I missed out on a lot of the SNES until the end of its life cycle. I didn’t want to miss out again, so I put on blinders and put in a parental request for the N64. You can imagine my surprise when FF7’s opening cinematic played out on a tiny tube tv. The ripples became waves and the ocean began to move. When I started playing, I wasn’t even sure what was happening, who anyone was, and how there could have been 6 other games I had never played. My cousin was trying to explain the concept to me, but I couldn’t hear him. I just wanted more. But, it was Christmas day, and in my family, that meant family time. Work. Maybe a slightly unique aspect of my family, but Christmas presents were opened at night around the entire extended family. The middle-kids were responsible for passing out all of the gifts to every other member of the family, and this was a long and painful process, especially for an 11 year old. Once everyone was finished, the middle kids opened their gifts in front of everyone. And even though I hadn’t asked for it, all I could think of was how much I wanted one of those boxes to be a Playstation. Not only did I not have any luck with that, I also didn’t get longer than 30 minutes with the game. Instead, every moment was punctuated by familial obligation. I went home unhappy, unsatisfied, my mind never left Midgar. I took a step further from the shore, deeper into the water.

The internet was still young and so was I. The best I could do, the best I could find, was fan pages and old magazines with little information. I absorbed as much as I could, but color pages and chibi gif animations of the FF7 crew just couldn’t cut it. But in all of the noise, there was some news. They were making a PC port of FF7. Alarm bells. Surely my 2 year-old desktop would be too far behind to play the game. My dreams felt again dashed. Through all of this, my obsession made my mother vaguely happy in a roundabout way. The desktop background of the living room PC was Tifa, and her big breasts helped my mother believe I wasn’t as gay as her earlier impressions, a conspiracy theory of her own making. To this day, she still makes jokes about Tifa. The only thing that would have only made her happier is if she was black. Anyway, the world had caught on to Final Fantasy, and I wanted to be a part of it. But when you’re 11, time is much more of a key to gaining something, it has to pass for anything to happen. As an adult, you can make things happen, but kids, they need an angle. A hard angle. That usually means you need the parents to come through, but they need to be unwitting participants in your obsession, pawns in your game.

Luckily, my dad was KING PAWN. My father, always the type to want to be on the cutting edge, bought us (himself) a laptop. This was out of nowhere, no prodding or manipulation, and while his claims for having bought the machine for work and school were dubious at best, I went with it. And with that came the specs I would need to play the PC version. But there was a catch. Christmas had passed and my birthday was in the fall, months from our current Spring. There wasn’t a free pass in sight. No amount of chores would fill my coffers and quell the storm in my heart. I need another rube. But with Spring came green. Money right out of the ground. My best friend had a lawn mower and I had a plan. Get this, what if we mowed lawns… for money? Bam! Winning ticket. There were one million old ladies and lads dying to give money to cute kids dragging a lawnmower from house to house. After mowing what felt like one thousand lawns, I was able to buy a copy. The storm was becoming a hurricane.

It was time to monopolize my dad’s new toy. Like most of his new toys, if it wasn’t a paperback book, he spent barely any time with it after a few weeks, so it worked in my favor. As fast as childhood actually passes, to children, the relative perception of time’s passing is slower than an adult’s. The more they want something, the longer it takes to manifest. Mix that with a negatively polarized Murphy’s Law, and you get your worst scenario; a computer that can run the first few hours, but crashes during certain enemy moves. This is where we meet the eye of the storm. My resolve is broken, my will shattered. How will I ever play this game? A million years passed (about a week), and that is when I realized my closest friend had gotten a new computer that last Christmas. A proper desktop model, in his own bedroom. It hadn’t occurred to me to bring the game to his house because PC games required an install and I couldn’t just bring the game home and continue my save file whenever I felt like it. Still, that next weekend, like every weekend, we had a sleepover, and for the third time, I started the game over. I took the game as slowly and methodically this time as I had before. The eye of the storm was slipping past. I was able to pass the Sector 5 Slum to Sector 6 tunnel I had gotten stuck in at home. By that time, I was the only one left awake. As I neared the top of the Shinra building, I could feel the storm in my heart reaching a fever pitch. I was so close. I saved Aeris, met Red XIII, beat Rufus, and sat in awe as Cloud rolled down the stairs on a thundering motorcycle. My heart was racing as I took out enemies to save my allies until there was no more road left. I was so excited, I was at the edge of Midgar. As I punished the highway monstrosity between me and my escape, the storm was beginning to calm, and then, turning red, he melted down and exploded in Final Fantasy fashion. And I had done it. My characters were free. The game was over. To be continued in Final Fantasy 8. RIght?

The hurricane died down, the characters begin to discuss their next steps. At this point, I have been playing around 9 hours straight. It was about 2 or 3 AM. I was just beginning to resign myself to take to a pillow and pad on the floor. But then the earth beneath the sea began to move and the waves began to take shape once again. And then, suddenly and with no provocation, the city of Midgar became a mere fraction of its size and Cloud became a giant. The world had shrunk and in the distance the curvature of the world could be seen. I began to move around and enemies appeared on my path. The waves miles of shore had become the size of skyscrapers. All at once I realized that it wasn’t the end. There was more. So much more. It wouldn’t be Final Fantasy 8 until I beat Sephiroth. There were 2 other discs. What was I thinking? Of course there was more. But why did it take so long to get here, to find more. I was bamboozled by the sights and sounds of Midgar, sung a sirens song by Avalanche and Shinra, and believed my mission would take shape and be completed inside the walls of some slums in some city that surely didn’t make up the entire world. Sephiroth and Shinra were a threat to the world, not just the people of this city. That was when the tidal wave met the shore. A tsunami of realization. A whole new identity was consuming me.

In the calm of the wave that had consumed me, weightless in my memories, my brain started making connections. My cousin introduced me to manga like Dragon Ball and Akira. I had grown up on a steady diet of Mario Bros, Sailor Moon, Sonic the Hedgehog, not to mention the growing phenom Pokemon. He told me all these animated dreamscapes came from Japan. A friend of mine showed me Final Fantasy III on his SNES, but it didn’t excite me like Link to the Past or Mario Kart. Cloud was not in Final Fantasy III as far as I could remember, but I had missed the other installments in between. And the world didn’t look at all similar. Who made this game? Squaresoft? I’ve never played a genuine Nintendo game on a computer before. But this came out on Playstation. What is happening? Oh, Sephiroth put a tree through a snake. Maybe all of these things are Japanese? My cousin told me Sega and Nintendo were from Japan. Wow, that is a big cannon and now I have to march and get on a boat? How much longer could this game be? I could feel myself getting tired. This is a nice beach town. What time is it? I have to get to the Golden Saucer next. A tap on my shoulder, sun in my eyes, my friend says, “Dude, you are still awake? Did you play all night?”

My eyes were open. The tidal wave had passed and I was baptised a whole new person. I was awake floating on a sea of my own consciousness. The next 10 years of my life would be shaped by RPG’s, Anime, Manga, Computers, D&D, and Cinema. Nerd Culture. I found a whole new person after playing Final Fantasy VII. It put together pieces that had been lying scattered, shaping a fan, a creative, and a more curious soul. I would challenge peers to try these new experiences, hoping it would awaken them the way it had me. I hadn’t realized that what awoke me was the perfect storm yet and that for most people, they wouldn’t be able to experience it the same way I had. I was able to find comradery in my closest friends and all of these cultural touchstones bound us even to this day. Final Fantasy VII’s legacy, maybe all legacies, aren’t just the collective experiences of having been a part of its success, but in the lives that were shaped around it; we are the base at which the monument stands. It’s legacy is strengthened by those who survived the storm and it continues to thrive because it was the perfect storm. A storm that still draws people in. A great storm that never died. A story we all still tell.

#Articles #Final Fantasy VII #Final Fantasy 7 #Final Fantasy #Final Fantasy 7 Remake #Final Fantasy VII Remake #Retrospective #Storm #Huricane #Earthquake #Tsunami #Anime #Manga #Japan #Japanese #JRPG #RPG #D&D

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noona-clock · 6 years

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Something’s Brewing ❄️☕

Genre: Coffee Shop!AU

Pairing: Jungshin x You

By Admin B

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12

It was a messy top knot, thick scarf, glasses kind of day. The chilly, drizzly weather outside on this dreary Tuesday wouldn’t allow for anything else.

Even though it was chilly and drizzly, the clouds and sky both a dusty shade of gray, you had to get out of the house. You were working on your final paper for the semester, and the walls of your apartment had become far too confining; you needed space and a cozy atmosphere to help you concentrate.

So, obviously, you were headed to your favorite coffee shop, The Grind.

Whenever you needed a change in scenery while working on homework (or your latest idea for a romance novel), The Grind was your go-to. It was small but not too small; you could always find a cozy armchair or table for one. It was busy but not too busy; you always felt welcome and never claustrophobic. The staff was friendly and knew you by name. And they made the best chai tea latte you had ever tasted.

When you opened the door to the local establishment, you were greeted by the familiar sights and smells of a coffee shop. The place was always filled with a warmth from the hot beverages and the burning fire in the small, stone fireplace located in one corner.

Although you didn't drink coffee, the aroma never failed to comfort you, and, weirdly enough, you found you were able to concentrate better when you were surrounded by this particular smell.

You took your place in the line, about four people deep, clutching at the straps of your backpack. You had come so many times you no longer even pretended to look at the menu, and you usually only had to show your face to the employee at the register to place your order. Today was no different. As you stepped up to the counter, you smiled at Seungyoon and handed him your debit card.

“How much longer in the semester?” he asked, keying in your chai tea latte before swiping your card.

“I'm working on my last assignment due next Monday,” you told him, letting out a little sigh of relief.

“And you only have one semester left, right?”

“Yep! Graduating in May!” you beamed, unable to contain your excitement. It seemed like you had been in school for so long because...well, you had been. You'd gone to college right after high school, and you'd gone to grad school right after college. So, really, you had been going to school every year since you were five. At this point, it would be weird to not be in school.

“You'll still come in here after you graduate, right?” Seungyoon teased, smirking a little as he handed your card back.

“Of course!”

“Oh! By the way... Jiyong quit.”

Your jaw dropped. “What?!”

“Yeah, he found a job at a record label, apparently.”

“Ahhh, okay. That makes sense.” While Jiyong had been a wonderful manager at The Grind, his passion and talent had belonged to music, specifically rap, so no one could blame him or be surprised at this turn of events. “So, do you have a new manager yet?”

“Yeah, he just started yesterday. You'll probably see him around. He's really tall, you can't miss him. And he's into music, too, which is kind of weird.”

You just frowned a little, saying goodbye to Seungyoon before heading toward a table. As you sat down, you thought about how strange it was going to be without Jiyong. He'd been the manager for at least four years, and you could no longer imagine The Grind without him. He was quiet but also powerful, and he had a certain way with people. Plus, he was pretty good-looking. It certainly wouldn't be quite the same with him gone.

You let out a sigh as you opened your laptop, your frown deepening when you came face-to-face with your paper. You were supposed to write ten pages on how the Civil War affected American society, and so far all you had was “When a war is fought among a country’s own citizens, the society of said country is certain to feel a large and lasting impact both economically and socially.” One sentence. A sentence you were fairly proud of, but still only one sentence. You had a lot of work to do.

Your drink arrived as you were in the middle of opening up some of your sources, but your gaze shifted from your computer screen to the employee when you heard an unfamiliar voice say “One chai tea latte for Y/N.”

This must be the new manager because the guy who set your mug down was someone with whom you were unfamiliar. He was certainly tall, and Seungyoon had mentioned such a fact…

“Thanks,” you replied, trying to smile but finding your shyness was getting in the way. Seungyoon had mentioned he was tall and into music, but he hadn't mentioned how cute he was. His facial features were all kind of large but somehow proportionate, fitting his face perfectly. His hair was dark and shiny and it swept over his forehead just so. His skin was quite possibly the smoothest, most radiant skin you had ever seen - not just for a guy, for anyone. And his smile (for he was smiling at you now) was so cute. It made you want to hear him laugh.

“You're very welcome. I'm Jungshin, the new manager. If there's anything you need, just let me know.”

Um, how about your number?

“Okay, I will. Thanks.”

Jungshin nodded, still smiling, before heading to another customer-filled table. Once he was out of earshot, you spotted Seungyoon nearby and hissed his name.

Seungyoon slid into the chair across from you as you closed your laptop. “What's up?”

“Ummmmmmmmmm….the new manager is dreamy.”

“Really?” Seungyoon stretched his neck to find where Jungshin was in the shop, his brow furrowing when he spotted him. “I mean, I guess he's a good-looking guy…”

“What else do you know about him? Is he single?”

“I have no idea… Want me to find out?”

“Yes! But don't mention me!”

“Of course I won't. We’re not in middle school,” he smirked. “I really don't know much else about him except he's tall, he's in a band, and he's our new manager.”

“Find out more about his band.” You would have to research them and find out if they had any gigs.

“Yes, ma’am! I'll report back when I find anything out.”

“Thank you! I owe you!”

Seungyoon knew exactly what favor he wanted, but he would save it until he actually had information to give you.

Once Seungyoon went back to work, you did, too. You opened your laptop back up and began typing out the rest of your introductory paragraph.

About an hour later, you were just finishing up your third page as well as your latte. You picked up your mug, attempting to take a sip but you were greeted by your distorted reflection in the empty bottom of it. You began to stand up, though none other than Jungshin interrupted you.

“You had…a chai tea latte, right?”

“Oh...yeah,” you answered, smiling shyly.

“I'll be right back.”

You watched as he loped over to the counter and began to work on another chai tea latte. So, he obviously knew his way around a coffee shop. Where had he been before now? After a minute or two, you realized you were staring at him, so when he started back with your new drink you immediately turned to your laptop and began typing again.

“Here you go,” Jungshin murmured as he set your mug down.

“Thank you!”

“Anything else you need?”

“Umm…” you took a deep breath, forcing yourself to say more than just ‘No, I think I'm good!’ “Seven pages on how the Civil War affected American society?”

You smiled up at him sheepishly, holding back a laugh.

Jungshin chuckled, reaching behind him to scratch the back of his neck. “I really don't think you want my help with that,” he admitted. “I'm terrible at writing papers.”

“Oh, well, I'm good then!”

Jungshin smiled, the hand which had been scratching his neck now making its way down to his jeans pocket. “So, uh, you're in school?”

“Yep. Getting my Master’s in American History.”

“Ah, that would explain the Civil War thing.”

“Yep. Pretty big part of American history,” you chuckled.

“That’s actually really cool. What can you do with a history degree?”

“Well,” you sighed. “I’m hoping to get a job at the city archives. My undergrad minor was historical document preservation, so working with really old papers is kind of my dream job.”

“Wow. I’m pretty sure you’re the first person I’ve ever met who wanted to do something like that as a career.”

“Yeah, I’m a pretty unique nerd.” you smiled at him, trying to hide your now blushing cheeks.

“Nerds are good,” he assured you, smirking slightly. “Without them, our society would be in complete shambles.”

“You know, you are absolutely right.”

“Well...I’ll let you get back to your paper. Again, let me know if you need anything -- beverage related.”

“I will, thanks.”

After he turned away, you bit your lip to keep from squealing. Had that really just happened? Had he just talked to you? And called you a nerd in a good way? This kind of thing never happened to you! If you thought a guy was cute, nothing ever came of it! Either you just never interacted, or the interactions you did have were brief and impersonal. Was it because you had forced yourself to say that part about needing seven pages for your paper? Maybe… but then he had continued the conversation by asking if you were in school. Was he...actually interested in you? Or was he being a friendly manager? You needed to know!!!!!

You finally turned back to your paper with a sigh, adjusting your glasses on the bridge of your nose before your fingers began their quick typing work.

You were able to get five more pages done before you completely crashed. Looking at the clock on your computer, you realized you had been there a total of three, almost three and a half hours.

After packing up your laptop, you headed to the counter to buy a chocolate croissant; you always ended up feeling bad for staying so long and only spending three bucks on your drink.

Instead of Seungyoon behind the counter, though, Jungshin was now taking customer orders. Apparently, he was a very hands-on type of manager.

When you approached, he smiled at you. “Hi there. What can I get you?”

“A chocolate croissant, please?”

“Coming right up.” He grabbed a pastry sheet and carefully pulled a chocolate croissant out of the case. Once he'd handed it to you, you held out your debit card.

“It's on the house,” he told you, waving your card away.

“...Wait, what?”

“You've been working hard for a while, you deserve it.”

“But that's why I wanted to buy something else! I felt bad for being in here so long and only buying one drink.”

“Hey, some people come in just for the free internet and don’t even buy the drink.”

“...Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I saw at least two of them in here earlier.”

“No, about the croissant!”

“Oh! Yeah, I’m sure. I’m the manager, I can do this kind of thing.”

“Well...thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Enjoy.”

You noticed his smile softened a bit as you took a bite. Ugh, it made your heart flutter. You lifted your free hand in a little wave before turning and leaving the shop. It was still rather chilly outside, but the drizzly aspect of the weather had changed into mere cloudiness.

You really hadn’t noticed a thing about the weather, though.

You were too busy enjoying your chocolate croissant and daydreaming about the cute new manager of your favorite coffee shop.

You didn’t want to jinx it or anything, but... as you strolled down the sidewalk, munching on your treat as the cold air bit your nose... you had a strange feeling.

Like something big had just happened to you. Or was about to happen.

Like your life had just taken a turn in a different - but definitely not bad - direction.

I don’t know, maybe you were crazy or maybe it was just wishful thinking, but you just felt like something... something was brewing.

...Coffee pun totally intended.

Part 2

Tagging @cramelot @veryhotkpop @daelicious-jongbulge @askmalstwin to let them know this has been posted! Readers, if you would like to be added to this list, let me know! Thank you!!

-Admin B

Master list // RULES // Submit a Request! // Read About the Admins

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letsgetitjk-blog1 · 6 years

Text

Bring The Heat (I Dare You)

by: letsgetitjk

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Humor, Eventual Romance, college!au, athlete!au, badboy!jeongguk

Relationships: Jeongguk x reader, Taehyung x reader

Length: 1.8k

Brief Summary- When you get involved with the star wide receiver and star running back of your college’s football team due to a technical incident, you end up bringing not one but two love interest in your life in the form of a bad boy gone football star and an enigmatic actor to-be. Will your love story end with a football and leather jacket, or a rose and camera?

Chapter 2

The Meeting

Last night you had grumpily replied to Jimin’s text with an affirmative, agreeing to meet him at his apartment, before heading to bed.

The day had been mostly uneventful leading up to the meeting and you were now headed on your way to his apartment. You bounded up the stairs up to the third floor, passing by a couple of guys as you did. They gave you curious looks but otherwise ignored you.

Reaching the floor, you slowly made your way down the carpeted hall, checking the door numbers. You spotted their door, or more obviously the large whiteboard that read “JIMIN & JUNGKOOK & TAEHYUNG’s BRO CAVE OPEN FOR BEER AND A GOOD TIME”. You raised a brow at the gaudy title but resigned to knock politely.

A large sound could be heard from the other side as if someone had fallen. The door swung open, startling you, and a handsome guy in an overly large white t-shirt appeared.

“Hey, what’s up?” He gave you a large smile, leaning an arm against the doorframe.

“Uhm, is Jimin here?” He cocked his head.

“Why’re you asking for Chim? Who are you?” Laying a hand on your hip, you looked up at him. “I really don’t think that’s any of your business about why I’m here. Jimin told me to come over and I’m here so,” You gestured in side, “let me in.” The guy looked somewhat stunned, his large eyes blinking down at you. But he didn’t let you in. “You didn’t answer my second question.”

“What?” You snapped, irritated.

“You didn’t tell me your name-”

“Tae!” A sudden familiar voice drifted from inside the apartment. “Is that y/n at the door? Let her in!” You heard a pair of feet approach the front door and there appeared Jimin in a bro tank and sweats, looking freshly showered. He stood a good head shorter that Taehyung (or Tae, as Jimin called him), but was broader and more built than the lanky guy blocking the entrance. “I would’ve let her in sooner, but she wouldn’t tell me her name.”

“Because I had no obligation to, I’m not here for you I’m here for Jimin.” You glared up at him but this time he wasn’t surprised, he only gave you a smirk.

“Right, well come on in.” He pushed himself off the frame before entering into the apartment. You saw Jimin give him an inquisitorial look as you stepped in. Jimin quickly greeted you before showing you into the living room. “Jeongguk’s finishing up in the shower right now- do want anything to drink, a beer, water?”

“Water’s perfect, thank you.” You replied as you sat down on the couch. Taehyung had disappeared somewhere but you didn't really bother to care. You made yourself comfortable as Jimin set a glass of water in front of you, cracking open a beer for himself as he sat down next to you.

“So have you called the tech guys or whatever?” He asked, taking a swig. You hummed. “I did, but their line was disconnected,” Jimin raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “So I went to their website, and apparently they're moving location downtown and won't be up and running until next week.” You gave him an apologetic look. “Sorry, that must be an inconvenience.” he shook his head, looking laidback. “At least now we know about how long you’ll need Jeongguk’s laptop for.” You nodded, sipping at your drink. There was a pregnant pause.

“So, football huh?” You started. Jimin laughed. “Yep, pretty damn tough but it feels good gripping the ball as you run down field for a touchdown.” you hummed again around the rim of the cup.

“You sure have a lot of memorabilia hung up. I guess I'm not surprised, school spirit and all.” Your eyes skimmed over the large purple felt flag with the college name on it. A poster of a panther on the prowl with large block letters read 'Panther Pride’ over the tv. Jimin looked over at you, a strange look on his face. “What?”

“You don't have any school paraphernalia? At all?” You shook your head.

“I never watched college football, only professional.” Jimin opened his mouth, then closed it. “Is it really that horrible that I don't own anything?” You asked, a little bit embarrassed.

“Well, seeing as our team has been leading the division since the beginning of the season, along with having some of the highest stats among our players with a holding record of wins in the past four years, then, yes. It is.” You let out a small 'oh’.

“I mean it might be different if our team sucked-” he chuckled at your sheepish expression.

“But you're not.” You finished. Jimin nodded, a smile playing on his lips. “Maybe now you'll start coming to games now.” You laughed. “Yeah, I might just do that.” You two sat in silence for a minute. You didn't hear the pipes or water running, and you were starting to get irritated. You had work at 9:00 and it was already 8:30.

“How long does it take for a guy to shower?” You huffed. Jimin gave you a sympathetic look. “I'll go check to see-” but before he could finish, you saw Jeongguk appear from down the hallway. Not a fully dressed Jeongguk, no, of course not. You were shown the unpleasant sight of a practically naked Jeon Jeongguk.

With a white towel wrapped around his unrealistically slim waist and another one around his neck, he stepped into the living room. “Put some clothes on!” You shouted, shielding your vision from his tattooed chest. You had only caught a glimpse, but it didn't seem to be as heavily tattooed as Hoseok’s rumor had said.

“Jeongguk I told you that y/n was gonna be here. Go throw on a hoodie or something man.” You heard Jimin squeak, equally embarrassed as you were. You heard a mumble of words before receding footsteps and a door closing. You looked up, face hot, to see Jimin watching the hall with an irritated expression. “Sorry about that, y/n.” You sighed.

“It wasn't your fault, you're not his fucking mother.” Jimin snorted and mumbled something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like, “I sure feel like it”.

Jeongguk reappeared with a black Stussy hoodie on and black ripped jeans, dark hair still slightly damp. Taehyung followed behind him languidly before they both sat down in the open chairs adjacent to you and Jimin. You had no idea why Taehyung would have any business being here but you decided against bringing it up.

“So, when’ll you need my laptop?” Jeongguk asked, eyebrow raised. His abruptness caught you off guard, seeing as you were the one that had been waiting half an hour while he did who-knows-what in the shower. Seriously, who did he think he was? With an annoyed look, you reached into your bag and brought out a notebook, opening it to a saved page with your work and school schedules on it. You quickly rushed through telling him about what times you were open and might need the laptop, along with an update on the tech guys.

Jeongguk sat and digested for a second before speaking up, fingers laced in front of him as he leaned forward in his seat towards you. “I have practice in the mornings Monday, Wednesday and Friday, and practice at night Tuesday and Thursday. So you grab the laptop in the mornings and you can come over in the evening when you need it for the week.”

Jeongguk stood up, as if everything was finalized, and it was, but you were offended by the abruptness of his demeanor. I mean, he was indirectly the one to break my fucking laptop. You thought, irritated. And his dismissive attitude did nothing to help your irateness. “How is she supposed to get in?” Taehyung spoke up from his spot in his chair.

“Yeah, how am I supposed to get in if you guys will be gone? Taehyung can’t just wait around to open the door for me.” There was a moment of silence.

“I got it!” Jimin said, smiling. “Cuz both Kook and I will be going to practice, one of us can leave a key on top of the doorframe for you to get in!” You smiled brightly at Jimin.

“That sounds perfect, as long as you guys are comfortable with me being in your apartment.” A sudden thought occurred to you. “Jeongguk do you have a password? To your computer, I mean.” You added, as Jeongguk had looked confused. His mouth formed an ‘o’ as realization came to him.

“Uh yeah, but I can just deactivate it for you.” The more you thought about, the worse you were starting to feel about using another person’s laptop. Even if they said you could, it was kind of an invasion of privacy. You shifted in your seat. “Look, I don’t know about this,” Your eyes met Jimin’s concerned ones before flashing to Jeongguk’s. “I just- feel bad for using your computer.” You sighed, trying to gather your thoughts. “If it was me, I’d feel uncomfortable with someone else using my computer-”

“But Jeongguk isn’t you.” Taehyung interrupted, a smile on his face. It wasn’t the sly and annoying one that you had seen when you’d first met him at the door. This one was sweeter and more open. It surprised you.

“W-what?”

Taehyung sat up more in his seat. “Jeongguk wouldn’t have agreed with doing this if he was uncomfortable with you using it like you said. Right, Kook?” Jeongguk, who had resigned himself to sit back down, knowing it wasn’t the end of the conversation, nodded slightly.

“See? No problems. And y/n, there should be no reason for Jeongguk to be uncomfortable, right? I mean, you aren’t going to go snooping around his computer or try to find his porn stash-” Jeongguk shot him a glare.

“Don’t try me Taehyung.” He said gruffly.

Taehyung waved him off teasingly. “Bottom line is, we can trust you, can’t we?” Both Taehyung and Jeongguk looked at you, waiting for you to respond. It felt like you were being thrown under a bright light and forced to look at it. Their strong gazes made your heart jump to your throat and your face to heat.

You nodded fervently. “Right. And besides, I wouldn’t be interested in Jeongguk’s porn stash anyways, seeing as I’d probably try to actively avoid whatever gross shit he gets off to.” Jimin and Taehyung broke out into laughter, you chuckling also -slightly relieved that their attention was diverted from you- as Jeongguk let out a shout of indignation. Maybe being friends with college football stars and their roommate won’t be so bad.

A/N

I know this chapter is a lot shorter than the last one, but I really wanted to put in a good foundation for the start of y/n’s relationship with Taehyung and Jeongguk without a lot of other things thrown in. Expect a longer chapter next week, and thank you so so much for 80 notes on Chapter 1! I’m so grateful for everyone that enjoyed Bring the Heat and I’ll do my best to keep your interest!

Xoxo,

Izzy

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agent-shield-blog · 6 years

Text

Start Over (2/?)

You were trained at a facility that made the best of the best assassins. When your graduation day was drawing near a group of the Avengers show up. You are taken back to NYC to join the Avengers, and you find it hard to adjust. But a famous someone comes in to save the day and offers you a deal you can’t refuse.

Pairing: Reader X Steve Rogers Featuring: Reader X Steve X Tony X Nat Warnings: None Rating of Series: Pg-13

Part 1/Part 2/Part 3/Part 4/Part 5/Part 6/Part 7/Part 8/Part 9/Part 10/Part 11/Part 12/Part 13

I felt the truck come to a slow halt. The doors squeaked as Mr. Stark opened my entrance. Light surrounded me, and so did the annoying hum of cars. Captain Rogers stepped in and grabbed the chains secured to the car and unhooked them. He motioned for me to stand. I cautiously made my way out of the car and onto the sidewalk next to me. I could tell from the vast majority of landmarks that I was in D.C. Why would they bring me someplace with such high profiles. It’s rather stupid on their part but nonetheless. As we walked towards a tall building, I noticed the giant letters plastered on the front. SHIELD. This was their headquarters. I let out a sigh. This would prove to be more difficult, but I was up for the challenge.

I was led into a glass elevator with the three Avengers. Captain Rogers swiped a card which allowed him access to the top floor. Once on the floor, I was led through glass doors. A man was sitting at a desk looking at some documents. There was an eye patch covering his left eye. This had to be Director Nicholas J. Fury. Captain Rogers pulled out a seat across from Director Fury and motioned for me to sit. I lowered my self into the black stainless steel seat. I kept my head down and stared at my dirty brown shoes.

“(Y/n) (y/l/n) welcome to Shield headquarters. I'm Director Fury, but I’m sure with your training you already knew that.” I continued to keep my head down making no acknowledgment of the previous statement. “We received notice of your academy a little over six months ago. We had enough people on the inside to maintain a vast outflow of information. Your name popped up the most on the files given to us. You have been the most promising student to ever walk through the doors of the academy. You're fast to learn, your intellectual levels are very impressive, and your skills are vast.” I had always known I was something important, but I never knew I was considered as the most promising student in the academies history. This much praise caused for my head to shift up ever so slightly towards Directory Fury. “Here at Shield, we take notice of gifted peoples. Whether they have physical powers or are just good at what they do, we want them here to make the world a better place. You can make the world a better place (y/l/n). So to get to my point, we want you here. We know you were raised to believe that the world is good for nothing but at Shield, we don't believe that. Most of the world doesn't believe that. You can change the world (y/n), but you have to agree to do so. If you don't want to help, then we understand. You will be taken downstairs for monitoring until we find you fit and safe to join society. The choice is yours. We will give you some time to decide.” Fury got up from his seat and walked away from me while the others followed. I kept my head facing forward as the door closed behind me. I didn't know if they were expecting me to make a run for it or if they actually wanted me to think about this offer. In all honesty, I was considering joining the team an option.

My skills would be put to good use, and I would actually be my own employer. I wouldn't have to go job to job. But was that what I wanted. I was taught that no one place could be my home. Home was where the next task was. People like me won't last in a single location. But if I accepted, I could always run. If I didn't like it, I could take something and be on my way. If I choose to decline who knows how long I would be trapped in the basement of Shield.

I looked behind me and saw through the glass doors Director Fury talking with the others. He had made eye contact with me. I gave a small nod and in response he did the same. He finished his conversation with the others and made his way back into the room. He sat down in his chair and looked back to me. This time I met his gaze instead of turning my head.

“When do I start?”

Once I agreed Director Fury had my cuffs removed and had me fill out some paperwork. Once I was finished Captain Rogers, Mr. Stark, and Ms. Romanoff walked back into the room. Mr. Stark typed something into his phone before making his way over to me.

“All right kid time to go.” I looked back to Director Fury who gave me one last reassuring nod. I didn't know if I could trust these people yet. I was new and now the youngest member of the team. I wouldn't be their top priority if it came to saving someone else in the group. Nevertheless, I had learned how to be an individual at the academy, I could easily take care of myself on this team.

After we loaded onto a quinjet, I sat in the back. I sat across from Ms. Romanoff while Mr. Stark and Captain Rogers sat up front. So many thoughts were popping into my head at this moment. Maybe this was the journey they were talking about at the academy. We were trained to be neutral to our jobs. Whatever side we chose was fine so long as we made money and paid our dues to the academy. But they were no more. Now it was my choice. I could be natural, I could be good. I could be bad. I guess it didn't really matter so long as I was employed and could provide for myself.

When the jet made its landing on the roof, I watched as Mr. Stark and Captain Rogers exited first. Ms. Romanoff stood up and made her way over. She gave me an encouraging smile and motioned for me to stand.

“I get that this must be different for you. One moment your at a school full of other peers, people just like you, and now you're thrown into this group of differently skilled heroes. I know that they teach you friends are unnecessary but I’m going to let you in on something I learned when I was in your position. It’s good to have friends. They will have your back and support you. I’m not saying you have to accept all of this. I’m just saying that contrary to belief it's okay to be trusting in people like us.” I got up from my seat and made my way off the jet.

“Thank you for the advice, Ms. Romanoff.”

“Please don't call me Ms. Romanoff. It makes me feel old. You can call me Natasha or Nat if you want.” I gave Natasha a nod.

When I walked into the building, it was like something I had never seen before. Sure we had advanced technology to practice with at the academy, but besides that, we were very old school. But this tower was almost unimaginable. The interior was all very modernistic the cedar floors looked brand new with its glowing polish. It smelled like vanilla with a hint of cleaning products. Nothing here seemed out of place.

I continued into the common room and did a complete examination of the room. Mr. Stark walked up behind me and took in the view of his home.

“Taking in the view I see.” I nodded but didn't say a word to Mr. Stark.

“Well, I hope you're impressed. It didn’t come cheap let me tell you that.” I continued to stare at the interior of the building. “I was told to show you your room so if you want to follow me, I can show you where it’s at.” Mr. Stark rested his hand on my shoulder. I quickly jumped back at the touch of someone against my body. I didn't like it when people touched me. I didn't like it when people came near me. I wasn't familiar with physical contact unless it was associated with pain. Mr. Stark looked at me with a concerned look on his face. “Sorry I didn't mean to startle you.”

“It’s fine.” I looked down at the floor at the clean white rug beneath my shoes. Mr. Stark began walking out of the room, and I followed behind him, making sure to keep enough space between us. We arrived onto the floor my room was on and we walked to the end of the hall. Mr. Stark pushed open my door and motioned for me to go in. When I stepped in the curtains drew up and the lights turned on. It was more than I could imagine. The king-sized bed had a fresh cream duvet on top with multiple pillows to match. There was a sitting area with a tv mounted on the wall. To my left, there was a wall that was replaced by windows. New York City was vast, and from this view, you could see the whole city. On the right there was a desk with everything I could need. A cell phone, computer, and other miscellaneous items. I continued into the bathroom where the lights switched on. There was a glass shower in the corner, in the other was a large jet stream tub. The countertop was black marble with two sinks placed within it. I walked back out of the room to see Mr. Stark standing in the middle of the room back on his phone. When he noticed my presence he looked up and put his phone in his front pocket.

“Do you like it?”

“Very much. Thank you, Mr. Stark.”

“No problem kid. If you don't mind I need to go take care of a few things. Will you be okay on your own for a bit?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Perfect. If you want to change into something else there should be a selection of new clothes in your closet and drawers to choose from. I will have Steve check on you in a bit. Enjoy your new space.”

“Thank you Mr. Stark.” He gave me a nod and walked out of the room closing the door behind him. I made my way over to the closet and picked out a sweatshirt and some jeans. I grabbed the laptop off the desk and made my way to my new bed. I looked up some websites that I had learned at the academy. Some were undercover work websites that we had been informed about. Others were just chatting websites updating us on the world events. I saw news of the academies fall on the pages. We were the best school for our purpose in North America. It was something teachers would brag about. If you whined about where you were, they would remind you of how grateful you should be for attending the place. I learned fast not to whine, not to complain, but to merely cohere to my orders.

Now I could leave it all behind. The academy, the old me. Maybe just maybe I'd be able to start over.

Part 3

#avengers fanfiction #avengers imagines #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagine #steve roger imagine #steve roger fanfic #steve x reader #avenger fanfiction #avengers imagine

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ahumanintraining · 6 years

Text

sign out (ch. 3 of “follow up”) a shallura modern era hospital au ft. dr. allura and patient shiro [link to ao3]

— notes: and yes here is the allura pov chapter that you all have been waiting so patiently for. (and yes, happy shallura day! i say this two days late but we all know that every day is shallura day anyway)

chapter three: sign out

Allura almost squeals.

But fortunately, she’s able to hold it all in until she’s absolutely certain that the phone call ended.

Then she thrusts her face into a pillow and makes the strangest sound she’s come out of her mouth since she matched into residency.

Today had been a complete series of emotional chess, starting from the moment she walked in to see him, not at all expecting the patient with the uncomplicated right distal radius fracture in bed 24 was going to be an ultra-cute man with the shyest smile and the most curious streak of white hair over his forehead.

She was caught so off guard she almost couldn’t even appropriately perform the final physical exam to discharge him. His gaze was so intense and he had such an entrapping calm demeanor that made her forget about the hustle and the bustle of the emergency department behind the curtain. If talking to him to recap his injury history wasn’t already making her trip over her words, she absolutely stuttered as she told him the physical exam findings, close enough to smell the light cologne wafting from his skin and see the light stubble over his jaw — honestly thank god none of the nurses or technicians were also present in the room because without doubt they would have dragged her about it in the break room if they had witnessed her.

If she wasn’t wrong in reading him, she took a chance on his fast heartbeat, his jagged breath, and the light blush over his cheeks and gave him all the hints that she was absolutely interested in seeing him again outside of the hospital context.

It was a huge risk — she worried that maybe he was just embarrassed about the whole situation or about his entire story falling off the monkey bars, which actually wasn’t all that ridiculous when it came to the emergency room. Not to mention, when she gave him her number, she was technically still overseeing his health care so it was a little weird in the doctor-patient relationship.

But it was fine, right? Technically she just gave him her business card, which she has done to patients she wanted to follow up even beyond the emergency room because of the complexity of their case.

This would just be another someone she wanted to follow up with. Well, maybe not for the same reasons, but…

She groans, pressing her face into the pillow again, remembering how she circled her cell number and even winked at him — so stupidly embarrassing!

How could she have just put herself out there like that so obviously? What if she just read all the signs wrong and completely misinterpreted?

Of course, now that he had actually called her back, she supposes she made the right decision after all.

She — Allura Altea, three years an attending at Olkarian General with her ass still deep in government federal student debt — had a date.

Or something. He did mention he wanted to “at least return the thanks.”

She doesn’t know. It’s unclear.

Regardless, she was going to get to see him again. She giggles to herself again, uncharacteristically giddy with excitement. She throws aside her pillow and reaches again for her agenda book, looking at the Thursday column. She raises her pen point just below her 6 PM shift, twirling her pen a few times to consider what to write.

“8 pm – DATE!!!!!” is too embarrassing even for her to look at — and then what would happen if she opened her book and one of her other colleagues happened to see the colorful all-caps? She’d never hear the end of it.

“8 pm – Date” doesn’t look right either. And moreover, what if it wasn’t even a date? What if he was just trying to be polite? Although… he did ask for dinner, not lunch. Or at least, he did at first…

She shakes her head to herself. Focus, she tells herself.

Maybe “8 pm – Takashi” would be most appropriate. She writes it in but then frowns when re-reading it.

This makes him seem like a consult call or some kind of referral. Maybe she can doodle in something to make it look more friendly…

Before she knows it, she scribbles a small heart next to him — and immediately regrets it. She scratches it out, but then finds that she ends up just coloring in the heart, making now a very clear and very solid heart next to his name.

“Oh my god, what am I? A high schooler? I’m 33 going on 14.” she moans out loud, flopping back onto her hardwood floor, casting her agenda book to the side.

Hearing her distress, her cat mewls, jumping down from the windowsill and climbing on top of her.

“I know. I must be so annoying to deal with right now, huh, Blue?” she mumbles, lifting her cat off her stomach and rolling onto her side to curl around her.

Allura lays there for a long time, replaying the last hour in her head, regretting lots of things she said. What was she thinking?

Oh, yeah, pull rehearsed statements out like ‘I appreciate you taking the time to call me’ or ‘I really like to hear how my patients are doing.’ For sure, yeah, that’ll really tell him that she’s interested in him as more than just a patient.

And then telling him that Thursday evening would work perfectly because she didn’t have anywhere to be the next day? What was she trying to say?

“I’m such an idiot,” she tells Blue.

But Blue is tired of cuddling and of hearing her shit, gingerly stepping out of Allura’s reach. Allura frowns, watching Blue take residence in a solitary corner, before subsequently doing the splits and starting to lick its hindlegs clean. Allura sighs. Her eyes trail back to her phone, strewn a few feet away, and she crawls over to it, scrolling hesitantly over the last message in her voicemail and looking at his familiar set of unfamiliar numbers.

Is it too optimistic for her to save his number into her phone? Probably. Allura knows better than anyone that romance does not work out the way it does for princesses in fairy tales, no matter how sure a princess thinks she’s found her paladin.

She bites her lip, and then pokes her screen to play his voicemail again, pressing her phone close to her ear. She smiles, hearing the croak in his voice as he starts talking.

Um… it’s Takashi Shirogane. I was your patient the other day. I guess I was just giving you a follow up call. Thanks for everything. Hear from you soon.

Such a short message. Barely a full ten seconds. It’s not nearly long enough. She plays it again, listening again for that beginning rumble of his voice when he first opens his mouth.

Takashi Shirogane.

She repeats his name to herself softly. She loves the light r of his last name, and how he says it in a gentle flutter. She hopes that she pronounced his name in exactly the same way during their last call, but she knows better than anyone else that her language skills are actually horrid and for as much as her dear father really tried to get her fluent in Spanish and French, she had no chance with the small amount of patience she had and the little tenacity she had to study anything but medicine.

She catches herself with a stupid smile over her face again, and she shakes herself out of lovesickness.

This is ridiculous. She hasn’t felt this way in such a long time.

She checks the time. It’s close to the time she needed to get herself into bed, so she showers, brushes her teeth, and crawls into bed after downing a few extra gulps of water to hit her daily hydration goal.

But it’s pointless. She doesn’t sleep at all, lying in bed well past her bedtime, dreaming of cute smiles and soft hellos.

The next couple of days is so mundane that when Thursday approaches, she almost completely forgets about the “8 pm – Takashi” line in her agenda until she opens her book in front of Dr. Coran Hieronymus Wimbleton Smythe, aka the chief of emergency medicine, and sees the crime-implicating solid heart.

Her eyes freeze on seeing the reminder, and she instinctively presses the pages against her chest.

“So, we’ll have our monthly department meeting on the twenty-third next month instead of the twenty-fifth as usual. Are you on shift that day?” Coran asks, scrolling through his phone, not seeming to notice her flushing and sudden protectiveness of her agenda book.

Cautiously, she flips a few pages forward, seeing a night shift on said date. “I should be off my 7 to 7 by then,” she says. “Meeting still at 7 am?”

“Yeah,” he affirms. “Lots of quality statistics to discuss, so try not to be late.”

“You implying I have some improvements to make?” she teases.

He looks up at her, twirling his ginger moustache and chuckling. “Even if you are one of our exceptional physicians, you know I just need to enforce the same expectations for our entire team.” He nods his chin at her unused computer, monitor black from inactivity. “As long as you’re still picking up patients.”

Ah. Funny he should say that.

“Alright, alright,” she says, swiveling her chair around and shaking the mouse.

“Aside from all of this, anything new going on in your life these days?” he asks, tucking his phone into his white coat pocket and leaning over the counter. “Haven’t been able to properly talk to you ever since the new residents joined us over the summer.”

“Yeah,” she agrees, shrugging. “But honestly nothing too much has been going on.” She clicks on the EMR to assign herself to the 53-year old male with chest pain in room 18 and turns to the stack of EKGs next to her, searching for the matching EKG to her patient.

“Really? No new potential suitors?” Coran asks. “I feel like you were complaining plenty about that in the last conversation I had with you. Something about someone moving into your apartment building?”

She rolls her eyes. “The Lotor guy is still bothering me,” she tells him. “But at least because he likes me I can ask him favors. He takes care of Blue for me when I’m out too late.” She finds the matching EKG and interprets it quickly, writing in left ventricular hypertrophy. “But you know it’s funny you ask me that now because I actually have a date tonight.”

Coran raises both his eyebrows. “See that is exciting,” he declares. “Who’s this date of yours?”

As much as Allura wants to tell Coran, she doesn’t want to mention that her date may just also happen to have been a patient in the emergency room just a couple days ago… and also just happen to have a patient chart with her signature on it.

“Uh… well just someone that I met at random,” she lies, of course, realizing she executed the confabulation terribly.

Coran gives her a look that tells her he knows her bullshit. “At random, huh?” he replies, not prying. “Well, I suppose you’ll tell me at some point.”

She just smiles and shrugs, then choosing that moment to stand and get to her patient in room 18. “Maybe at some point,” she promises him.

“I’m sure I’ll hear about it if it ends up turning out horrible.”

“Probably,” she agrees, waving him a short goodbye as she steps past him.

But for some reason, she has the most undoubtable feeling tonight’s date won’t turn out horrible at all.

She doesn’t get home until 7:45 pm.

Well, so far tonight’s date is going pretty horribly, she thinks to herself, rushing to get her keys into the keyhole to unlock her door.

Once in her apartment, she hurls herself in, dropping the day’s handbag on the floor and pulling off her shoes as she walks in. She reaches up to pull off her hair tie, shaking her hair out as she makes her way to her closet, already half-undressed.

She did absolutely everything she could in order to optimize getting back home once the clock hit the end of her shift at 7 pm — even going so far as to beg Sendak to cover the last few codes she technically should have been doing so that she could instead rapidly finish closing her charts because she had no option to just close them on her next shift because the next time she’d be in the hospital would going to be more than 24 hours later and Coran would never let her hear the end of it if she didn’t sign her notes within the mandatory time frame and she would definitely be roasted at the next department meeting.

Needless to say, she is frazzled.

She holds her head between her hands, frowning as she looks in the mirror. She looks at the clock on the wall. Damn. She is not going to have time to look nice. Damn. She doesn’t even have the time to take a shower. And damn it, of course this would happen to her on that one night she has a date with someone she thinks she might actually like?

Well, a maybe-date date. Because what if all this time he really is just taking her for dinner out of the goodness of his heart? After all, he did call her to update her about his arm and to thank her… and he didn’t actually bring up the idea of dinner until after she carried the conversation…

She calms herself down. It’s fine, it’s fine, she tells herself. It’s going to be all —

Wait, check your phone, she reminds herself. Because what if he is already outside waiting —

She taps her phone screen and sees no notification.

She can’t help but frown. Maybe she is really is getting too excited and hopeful about this maybe-date date. If he liked her, he definitely would be a little early right? Or texted her earlier today to check in?

Or maybe he forgot about their dinner?

Damn, maybe she should have texted him earlier today. But no, she didn’t want to overstep and over-text him either.

She groans one more time and ceases her internal dialogue, telling herself to just focus on her outfit for tonight. It doesn’t matter how much time she has; every single second she has left before this maybe-date date of hers is valuable to get her act together.

She flips her phone to the ring setting and hitches up the volume to max so that there is absolutely no way that she would miss a call, walking back to her closet.

She makes another frustrated sound as she sifts through her outfits. All throughout her emergency training, she was able to get away with wearing scrubs, which was great for her at the when she didn’t have the time to figure out what to wear on the sleep-deprived mornings before a shift but right now, as she looks through her severe lack of nice dating-material clothing, she is regretting her options.

She doesn’t even know exactly where he’ll be taking her. Should she wear something more formal or something more casual? But this is okay. She’s been in this situation at least one hundred times before — there’s a few dresses that can pass for most events aside from an underground rave late at night or a Board of Trustees meeting, but she’s pretty sure that he’s not taking her on any of those extremes.

Her hands stop at a white dress with a floral print — kimono v-neck, mid-arm sleeve, about knee-length — and she looks it over with pursed lips, her eyes tracing one of the pink flowers and its surrounding dark green stem and leaves along the waist.

Her favorite dress. She doesn’t wear it often because she’s afraid of getting it dirty and because otherwise she’d be wearing it all too often.

It was the last gift her father gave her, and the first thing she thinks of when remembering him.

Her thumb rolls over the silky material as she muses for a moment, and then slips it off the hanger, lying the dress over her bed before she pulls it over her head, flipping her hair out from under the collar as she looks at herself in the mirror.

She frowns. The dress fits her well, of course, but her hair is a tangled mess. She sighs and rolls it back up into some kind of a loose bun. It looks almost purposefully messy, some of shorter strands of her hair peeking out from behind her ears, but it also looks like she just got out of a twelve-hour work shift and like didn’t care about this date when she actually really did want to impress him and set herself up in the best way possible for this to be an amazing night.

Maybe at least some light makeup? She rushes over to her makeup bag, pawing through it before a loud ring emerges from her phone.

Her eyes dart to it, her heart rate suddenly jolting. Another ring emerges — a long one that she knows means that someone is calling her and who could it be but him… She rushes over, looking over the caller ID and seeing the familiar set of numbers.

She swallows. “Hello?”

“Hey.”

Her heart flutters again. “Hi!” she says, almost too excitedly, but then clears her throat, mollifying her enthusiasm. “Um, hey,” she tries again, stupidly. She briefly pauses, and then unable to figure out what else to say, adds, “What’s up?”

Silently, she hits her forehead with the palm of her hand. What’s up? Was that the only thing she could think of to say? What was she thinking?

“I just want to apologize for calling you so last minute about this,” he starts.

“Oh, no, I mean, I was just getting ready myself. No rush,” she blurts. She’s not sure why she says all this when she could have just said ‘oh, no, that’s okay’ but then again, so far, she doesn’t have a great history of saying exactly what she wants when he talks to her.

“Oh,” he says, pausing in a way that makes her regret what she said. “Well, I was going to apologize about tonight. I, um… well, I’ve had a bit of a change in plans.”

He says this, and her heart sinks.

[link to chapter 4!]

notes: oh no would could have possibly happened???

(also if you think that I’m going to get away with this modern AU without putting in as many Voltron references as possible, you are very very wrong. call me out on all the lame ones :P)

#shallura #happy shallura day #shiro x allura #shiro #allura #voltron #—shallura #—voltron #—follow up

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especially-heinous-ada · 6 years

Text

APG Part 5

photo cred: https://www.pexels.com/search/new%20york%20city/

Here we are! Part 5! Thank you so much for your interest in this series, and I am so grateful for everyone’s comments and love. <3 Part 5 is the beginning of some interesting things to come. I’m so excited, but don’t want to reveal too much as of yet! I hope y’all enjoy it! :) As always, for any new eyes, please read Parts 1-4. I’ve added a page to my blog for all my writings.

You said goodbye to the female detectives who had entered Rafael’s office (it seemed like the right thing to do?) before exiting the room and letting them get to work. Part of you was embarrassed that two respectable members of the NYPD had walked in on you and Rafael making out on his desk like a couple of teenagers, but part of you was excited by it.

When did I become an exhibitionist? You closed the door behind you and let out a little giggle, thinking of how the conversation in his office was going right now. You just hoped that it didn’t affect his reputation at all. You certainly didn’t want to get him in trouble. You looked across the room and spotted the woman whose name placard read Carmen. She looked up from her computer and noticed you.

“Thank you for letting me in without an appointment, Carmen.” You smiled. “I owe you one.”

“Don’t mention it.” She said, returning the expression. You made a mental note to ask her out to a lunch date sometime. She seemed like the kind of person you wanted to get on good side of if you and Rafael were ever going to be a thing. You checked your schedule for today as you exited the building. You were booked to dash from one photo shoot to the next for the majority of the day. Your phone rang. It was your manager. You sighed and reluctantly answered as you walked toward the street to hail a cab.

A few hours later, you were on-set for your third photoshoot of the day. This one was bigger than the first two: a women’s fitness magazine that wanted you to do a shot for the cover and a six-page spread, with multiple outfit changes. You were on your second outfit of the shoot as you sat in your chair, while a sweet, redheaded girl fussed over your hair and makeup. She chattered away at you and you gave an occasional nod and answer, but you felt yourself growing drowsy—you always seemed to when someone else played with your hair. Your sleepy mind imagined sitting on your couch, cuddled up to Rafael’s chest, his fingers running through your hair. You sighed peacefully. You hoped that one day your daydream would become reality.

Suddenly, your phone buzzed from its position underneath your thigh, forcibly tearing you away from your reverie. Is it Rafael? No, it can’t be; he’s working. You frowned as you retrieved the phone and read the screen:

Incoming call: Francis.

Your body froze and your mind began to race from one thought to the next. You couldn’t believe his name was on your phone again, after all this time. Francis. The one that broke you. Figuratively, and literally. You began to panic. Why is he calling me? How? How could he know my number? I’ve changed it five times since then. Unable to do anything else, you stared at his name on the screen until the icon switched from incoming call to missed.

“Y/N? Are you ready?” You looked up and saw a perky twenty-something also dressed in athletic clothing. She had introduced herself earlier as the head photographer for the magazine. You shook your head to wrench it free of all thoughts of Francis. You wouldn’t let him distract you from your work. He’d nearly destroyed your career once; you wouldn’t let him do it again.

“Yes. I’m coming.” Two hours and another outfit change later, the photographer finally wrapped the photoshoot and you collected your things while your manager talked at you about an interview with a daytime talk show that she had in the works.

“Sure, sure, Janna. Whatever you think is best,” you say offhandedly, as you pull your phone from your purse to check the time. Three missed calls. Francis. Your stomach wrung itself into a knot and you clicked “block” on his number. Janna seemed to notice that something was wrong and she frowned.

“What’s going on, Y/N?” You looked over at her with a smile.

“It’s nothing,” you lied, not wanting to explain your complicated past with Francis. Janna was an old friend, but you had only been working with her for a year, since you decided to move back to New York, so she wasn’t aware of the history between you two.

You and Janna climbed into her car and she set a course for your last photoshoot of the day. Another smaller one, thankfully. You didn’t think you had it in you to go through the motions of another large production today. You tried to calm yourself. Francis is in L.A. He can’t get to you here in New York. He has no idea where you are right now. You’re safe. You sigh, feeling assured. You’re safe.

****

Rafael propped his feet on the desk, leaning back in his chair and stretching his arms. He let out a large sigh and glanced at the clock. 4:00 P.M.

“That time already?” he thought aloud, crossing his arms. He glanced at the pile of documents he needed to finish addressing before leaving, and found it thinner than he’d anticipated, based on the thick piles that had been pushed to the corner of his desk at the onset of his day. Despite the day’s rough start, he’d been especially productive since you had left his office, drafting up summonses, motions, and warrants like a force to be reckoned with. The polished, wooden surface of his desk was nearly empty for the first time in two weeks. He smirked as his mind replayed the events that had occurred between the two of you on that very desk.

Should I call her now? He wondered. Is it too soon? Then again, she’s already been waiting since Friday, he reasoned. He bit back his bottom lip as he weighed his options. Finally, he reached into his desk drawer and pulled out the notepad you had written your number onto. He entered it into his cellphone and hit “call” before he lost his nerve. His anxious thoughts were so deafening as he held the phone to his ear, he barely heard the dial tone. His heart thumped so rapidly in his chest, it was almost as if he’d just finished running a lap around the courthouse. The phone rang and rang, with no answer, then the sound of your voice came through the speaker.

“Hey, this is Y/N. I can’t come to the phone right now. You know what to do.” Beep.

“Uh, hey. Y/N. This is Rafael… Obviously, you’re busy right now, but I just wanted to call and, uh, make sure you know I didn’t lose your number this time.” He chuckled. God, that was lame. “Also, I wanted see if, maybe, you were free tonight? If so, would you like to maybe get dinner, or something? I should be done at the office around 7…Uh—so yeah, just, when you get this message, get back to me and let me know about dinner, okay? Once again, this is Rafael. Uh. Bye.”

He hung up the phone and groaned at his complete lack of finesse. He was never the greatest at leaving voicemail messages, but that was painfully awkward. Well, at least it’s out there, he consoled himself. Now the ball is in her court. He turned to the small pile at the corner of his desk and picked up another document, determined to leave the office by 7:00.

****

“That was amazing, Y/N! I think we’re going to call that a wrap!” You sighed, relaxing from your last pose. You were relieved to finally be done for the day. Janna went to chat a bit with the photographer and you retreated to your changing room. You slid on a black, silk knee-length dress that Janna had brought you with some matching heels. It felt good to be back in some of your own clothes again. Once you had finished changing, you glanced at your phone. 7:00 PM. Another missed call icon, along with a new voicemail. You didn’t recognize the number. You selected your voicemail.

“You have one new voice message. Saved at 4:08 PM.”

“Uh, hey. Y/N. This is Rafael…” You gasped and listened with excitement to the message he had left you. He wanted to go to dinner tonight? Like a date? You practically squealed with excitement as you saved the message and ended the call.

“Who was that?” Janna asked.

“Remember that guy I told you about?”

“The sexy Cuban prosecutor?” She said with a suggestive eyebrow raise.

“That’s the one.” You smiled. “He left a message asking me if I want to go to dinner with him tonight.”

“Like a date? Oh, my god!”

“I know!” You said, this time letting the giddy schoolgirl squeal escape. Half a beat passed, then, embarrassed, you cleared your throat and tried your best to act cool and collected. “I’m going to call him back and let him know we’re on for tonight.” You tapped on the number he’d called from and selected “dial.”

It rang several times and just as you figured you’d get his voicemail, you heard a click.

“Barba.” was his greeting. He must have answered without checking the caller ID, you figured with a giggle. “Y/N?” he asked, hearing the giggle.

“Yes, it’s me.” You smiled. “I, uh, got your message.” Rafael chuckled nervously on the other line.

“That’s good, I think. I apologize for the message. I’m not the smoothest when it comes to leaving voicemails; courtroom banter is really more my forte.” You laughed.

“Well, to answer your question: I would love to go to dinner with you.”

“Oh—great! I just finished up over here, so I could pick you up, if you’re ready?” He offered tentatively.

“Actually, I’m just leaving work right now. It might be easier if I just meet you there. Where did you have in mind?”

“Do you know Angelo’s?”

“That fancy Italian place with the famous desserts?” You ask, impressed.

“That’s the one. Meet me there at 8:00?” He suggests.

“Sounds like a plan.” You smile.

“Can’t wait. Nos vemos un rato.” You had surprised Rafael the first night you met by speaking Spanish to him. Curious, he thought tonight he might test you to see exactly how much you knew.

“Nos vemos.” You reply, ending the call. You loved the way Rafael’s voice sounded when he spoke Spanish. It sounded deeper, huskier. Sexier. You could listen to it all day. Not that his English-speaking voice wasn’t sexy—just not in the same way.

You turned to Janna.

“Let’s go,” you said, motioning in the direction of where she parked her car. Janna nodded and the two of you set off. “Can you drop me off at Angelo’s before you head home?”

“He invited you to Angelo’s?!” Janna asked, looking at you incredulously. “That place is ridiculous. Like, really expensive. And the food is practically god-tier. He’s bringing you there on a first date?”

“Gotta make a good impression.” You shrug. “At least, I assume that’s what his thought process was.” He was a high-powered attorney. Appearances in that world are everything. Much like in mine. You thought. The two of you climbed into Janna’s car and set off.

“Do you want to stop by your place first?” She offered.

“Nah, I’m good. Nothing I do to my face and hair is going to improve on the work of a professional stylist.” You laugh. Janna agreed and joined in the laughter.

“So…do you think you’ll sleep with him? Or are you waiting on that? I don’t know how serious you are about this guy.” You thought about it for a moment.

“As much as I’d love to, it’s probably not the best idea to sleep with him on the first date, right?” You said, unsure of yourself. You’d heard conflicting opinions on whether you should have sex on the first date, and it always left you feeling unsure.

“Well, you just have to do what feels right to you, you know? If you get to the end of the night and you feel like you need to wait, just give him a kiss and tell him you had a good time. But if you look at him at the end of the night and feel like the right thing to do is to jump his bones, then give him the best fuck of his life.” Janna said, in a matter-of-fact tone. You laughed so hard you snorted a little.

“Okay, Janna. I’ll take your sage advice into consideration.” The two of you chatted for a bit about upcoming opportunities before finally reaching your destination.

“Well, here we are. Angelo’s. Have fun tonight, kids. Remember: practice safe sex.” Janna teased with a wink. You rolled your eyes and stepped out of the car.

“Thanks.” You said sarcastically. “I’ll tell you all about the date tomorrow.” Closing the door, you turn around to face the restaurant. You take a deep breath and let it go before heading inside. You approach the host.

“Can I help you, ma’am?”

“Yes, I’m here meeting someone.” You reply. You glance at your phone and it reads 8:03 PM. “He should be inside already.”

“And what name would the reservation be under?”

“Barba.” You say, getting a bit anxious as the host examined the list for an unexpectedly long amount of time.

“Ah, yes. Follow me this way, Mrs. Barba. Mr. Barba has checked in already.” He motioned toward the dining room before setting off. You felt yourself blush as he referred to you as Mrs. Barba. You didn’t see the point in correcting him, and it sounded rather nice, to be honest. The two of you wound through the main dining room and passed through it, entering a hallway of small, private booths with romantic lighting. You could hear a live string quartet playing in the background from somewhere in the restaurant. Wow. You were impressed.

Finally, the host stopped and motioned toward a booth. It took you a couple seconds to catch up—you’d fallen behind while examining the restaurant’s elegant opulence. When Rafael saw you, his eyes widened in surprise and he stood.

“Y/N.” He greeted with a warm smile.

#reader x barba #rafael barba #svu fanfic #a police gala #part 5

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cc-krillin · 4 years

Text

this chat log under Read More (sent to me via email, randomly found it again lmao) was on a text based web DBZ RPG (run on a tripod web host site iirc), you pretty much emailed the admin/owner with your chosen training for PL, and get PL by RPing (or just putting ‘training’ every half-one hour) in the chatroom too. The website gets advertised on top DBZ RPG site lists back then, where this Krillin joins. I am not part of this sadly, I was asleep during due to timezones lmao.

How this is relevant to this blog and my Krillin portrayal? One of my (crack) AUs is based on this, noob Super Krillin with an OP headbuut lmao.

On a related note, I am working on a fan game (Windows .exe) on the side called CrossoverCollsionRPG, with a similar concept to what I explained above (with a battle system like Poek’mon, and story mode like DBZ Kakarot, with mostly DBZ characters playable). If you are interested please let me know, you can later be added to an exclusive group of beta testers if you are still interested after I show you a preview, thanks!

sent/received at: Fri 8/08/2008 5:06 AM

(Aug 07-13:52) Hell_Tojeiko: wtf (Aug 07-13:52) Krillin: so how do i play this? where do i go to see my guy? (Aug 07-13:52) Gotez: ( Join a dragon ball MMO . Not RP ) (Aug 07-13:52) Zerlot: (Did you download the program?) (Aug 07-13:53) Krillin: no what program must i download? (Aug 07-13:53) Gotez: ( Ah just nevermind.. ) (Aug 07-13:53) Zerlot: (It's on the Join Application) (Aug 07-13:53) Krillin: i don't want to join, i just want to play (Aug 07-13:53) Hell_Tojeiko: ...... (Aug 07-13:53) Zerlot: (Well, you can't play unless you join..) (Aug 07-13:53) Krillin: how much does it cost to join? (Aug 07-13:54) Zerlot: (5 dollars via paypal) (Aug 07-13:54) Hugo: (what happened to character customisation) (Aug 07-13:54) Hell_Tojeiko: LMFAO (Aug 07-13:54) Hugo: (ROFL) (Aug 07-13:54) Krillin: who do i send it to? (Aug 07-13:54) Zerlot: (Me, I'm assistant manager. I'll make sure the credits are transferred to the owner of the site.) (Aug 07-13:54) Krillin: cool (Aug 07-13:55) Hugo: (Or u can send it to me,Im the owners other chracter) (Aug 07-13:55) Krillin: do you send instructions on how to play this game? (Aug 07-13:55) Zerlot: (Yes, it's all included.) (Aug 07-13:55) Krillin: alright (Aug 07-13:56) Krillin: wow you guys are pretty strong, do i have to pay for power too? (Aug 07-13:56) Zerlot: (Nope) (Aug 07-13:56) Krillin: so how do i get strong? (Aug 07-13:56) Hell_Tojeiko: you gotta train man (Aug 07-13:56) Zerlot: (You spend time in here trianing) (Aug 07-13:56) Zerlot: (Training) (Aug 07-13:56) Krillin: cool (Aug 07-13:56) Hugo: (Also no cursing,Toj, give him examples of bad launguage) (Aug 07-13:57) Hell_Tojeiko: what the hell?? when did i curse? (Aug 07-13:57) Krillin: oh no it ok, i say motherfucker and piss too (Aug 07-13:57) Hugo: (Now if u know whats good for u) (Aug 07-13:57) Krillin: krillin is awesome (Aug 07-13:57) Krillin: can i join as super krillin? (Aug 07-13:57) Krillin: can i be a super human (Aug 07-13:58) Krillin: i think he is the strongest one (Aug 07-13:58) Zerlot: (Yeah, human are the strongest) (Aug 07-13:58) Hugo: (Nope Saiyan Dragon is) (Aug 07-13:59) Krillin: nuh uh, i'm looking now on the page, they are not very up there (Aug 07-13:59) Krillin: the strongest race is the first, and the weakest race is the last on the page right? (Aug 07-13:59) Zerlot: (Yeah, but it's harder to get transformations for others) (Aug 07-13:59) Krillin: i just want to be super krillin (Aug 07-13:59) Krillin: so i can headbutt people (Aug 07-13:59) Zerlot: (ROFL!!) (Aug 07-14:00) Krillin: i rp for a long time, probably more than anyone here so i'm better (Aug 07-14:00) Krillin: than all you (Aug 07-14:00) Zerlot: (Lmfao) (Aug 07-14:00) Hell_Tojeiko: lol i doubt that, how long u been rpg'in dude? (Aug 07-14:00) Krillin: 5 months. (Aug 07-14:00) Hugo: (ROFLMFAOOL NOO (Aug 07-14:00) Hell_Tojeiko: ..... (Aug 07-14:00) Zerlot: (ALDFORLFFORFLMFAO) (Aug 07-14:00) Hell_Tojeiko: dude..... (Aug 07-14:01) Hugo: (NOOB ) (Aug 07-14:01) Krillin: no, i started back in febuari, i am not new (Aug 07-14:01) Hell_Tojeiko: wtf dude how old are you? (Aug 07-14:01) Krillin: 11 (Aug 07-14:01) Zerlot: (ROFL) (Aug 07-14:02) Hugo: (ROFLMFAOOL) (Aug 07-14:02) Krillin: i stayed home from school today because i hate my class (Aug 07-14:02) Hell_Tojeiko: oh my god, dude you need to go change your huggies (Aug 07-14:02) Hugo: (Ohh Mr.Badass) (Aug 07-14:03) Krillin: no, my mommy is home with me, she lets me get on the computer if she watches me, but when she leaves i like to look at naked girls and guys wrestle (Aug 07-14:03) Hell_Tojeiko: (FUCKING DEAD) (Aug 07-14:03) Zerlot: (LMFAO!OFOROFLF) (Aug 07-14:03) Hell_Tojeiko: (i gotta go before i fucking pee my pants) (Aug 07-14:03) Zerlot: (LMAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAOOO) (Aug 07-14:03) Zerlot: *Trains* (Aug 07-14:04) Krillin: what does lmfaooforoflf mean? (Aug 07-14:04) Hugo: (I cant type this is so FUCKING FUNNY) (Aug 07-14:05) Krillin: so can i join zerlot? (Aug 07-14:05) Krillin: i promice to be good and fight hard (Aug 07-14:05) Zerlot: (didufe tell him i cvannkt tyep (Aug 07-14:06) Zerlot: ) (Aug 07-14:06) Hell_Tojeiko: krillen, we are all laughing right now (Aug 07-14:06) Hugo: (Im chokin) (Aug 07-14:06) Krillin: so i can't join? (Aug 07-14:06) Krillin: i can type good (Aug 07-14:06) Krillin: and i want my guy to look like krillin (Aug 07-14:07) Krillin: same tall and pounds (Aug 07-14:07) Hell_Tojeiko: (ok i'm good) (Aug 07-14:07) Hell_Tojeiko: look dude you have to fill out the application and send an email to the owner, he'll let you know if you can join or not (Aug 07-14:08) Krillin: why not, i been playing for a really really long time i promise i will play hard (Aug 07-14:08) Krillin: i am the best i can prove (Aug 07-14:09) Hugo: what happened to creating ur own character,this is years after all the original characters died (Aug 07-14:09) Krillin: i fight someone now i bet i can beat him (Aug 07-14:09) Hugo: (Ok fight me) (Aug 07-14:09) Hell_Tojeiko: ooooooo shit (Aug 07-14:09) Krillin: ok you start furst (Aug 07-14:10) Krillin: i promise i make you look stoopid (Aug 07-14:10) Hell_Tojeiko: (OMFG this shit is classic) (Aug 07-14:12) Hugo: Hugo drops eveything he is doin and flies to see Krillin on the ground, he lands "Your Dead Bitch",then Transforms to CDO "Break-up teleport" ,then reappears behind Krillin,wraps his legs around him"KIOUHAMEHAAA" he yells and powers the blast into Krillins back (Aug 07-14:12) Hugo: (Ur dead with one hit) (Aug 07-14:12) Krillin: krillin say ow krillin headbutt you in the eye (Aug 07-14:12) Hugo: (Ur dead) (Aug 07-14:12) Zerlot: (LMFAOROFL) (Aug 07-14:13) Hell_Tojeiko: (LOOOOOOOLLLLL!!!_ (Aug 07-14:13) Hugo: (That attack had enough power to kill u like 200,000 times) (Aug 07-14:13) Hell_Tojeiko: (HOW IS EVERYONE MISSING THIS???) (Aug 07-14:13) Hell_Tojeiko: (SOMEONE SAVE THIS SHIT) (Aug 07-14:13) Krillin: no you miss me i am short my headbutt cant be block (Aug 07-14:14) Hell_Tojeiko: (dude..u said ow) (Aug 07-14:14) Hugo: (Dumbass NOOB, I wrapped my legs around u and shot ur back,U R DEAD<U CANT BLOCK THAT) (Aug 07-14:15) Krillin: that was fake i fake him out then headbutt him he think i was dead (Aug 07-14:15) Krillin: no i to short so i hit you (Aug 07-14:15) Krillin: and i not new (Aug 07-14:15) Hugo: (No ur body is destroyed) (Aug 07-14:15) Krillin: no its not, krillin still standing (Aug 07-14:15) Hell_Tojeiko: (wowo) (Aug 07-14:16) Krillin: i told you i am better than you (Aug 07-14:16) Hell_Tojeiko: hugo got owned by a n00b!!!!!! (Aug 07-14:16) Hugo: (I HATE FUCKIN NOOBS, WHAT HAPPENED TO THE NOOBS THAT ASKED QUESTIONS,AND DIDNT TRY TO FUCK WITH PPL) (Aug 07-14:17) Hugo: (U r dead sorry Junior) (Aug 07-14:17) Krillin: see you mad i am happy so i win (Aug 07-14:17) Zerlot: (LOL) (Aug 07-14:17) Krillin: can i join now zerlot (Aug 07-14:17) Krillin: i beat hugo (Aug 07-14:17) Krillin: please (Aug 07-14:17) Hugo: (No the fuck u didnt NOOB ) (Aug 07-14:18) Zerlot: (LMAFO) (Aug 07-14:18) Krillin: yes i did see (Aug 07-14:18) Zerlot: (Yeah, Krillin, fill out an email in the Join Application) (Aug 07-14:18) Krillin: you are mad because you lost to me (Aug 07-14:18) Krillin: ok thank you zerlot (Aug 07-14:18) Zerlot: (NP) (Aug 07-14:18) Hugo: (I hope u get accepted,because first quest Imma kill u) (Aug 07-14:19) Krillin: thank you gotez, thank you Hell_Tojeiko, thank you majin_chaos, thank you shinta, and thank you zerlot (Aug 07-14:19) Hell_Tojeiko: (LOL!!!!!!!!!!) (Aug 07-14:19) Shinta: [Your Welcome Krillin?] (Aug 07-14:19) Zerlot: (Lmao) (Aug 07-14:19) Krillin: i beat hugo (Aug 07-14:19) Hugo: (Someone please save this)

#tw : long post #kenta speaks : out of chestnuts

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mnranger5 · 4 years

Text

Rewind: Alissa & Jeff’s Wedding and Florida Keys Road Trip, 2/6/14 – 2/14/14

When Alissa announced she was getting married in the Florida Keys, it was a no-brainer that Dyan and I would be flying down for the wedding. The only difficult decision to be made was how long we wanted to extend the vacation. How about 9 days, Dyan? Her response, “YES!” We intended to spend some time in Ft. Lauderdale, Miami and various islands in the Florida Keys. With a lot of pavement and sunshine between our stops, we’d need a cool car! And this one came at a price, but I’m not talking about the cost. This was Dyan’s first glimpse into my obsession with having unique cars on road trips!

Mustang convertibles in south Florida come at a premium, and the going rate for a 9 day rental was over $1,000. No way I was paying that! I recall the economy cars running $300-$400 for the full week, so I’d probably have to settle for a Nissan Altima or similar. I scoured the deepest nooks and crannies of the internet in search of a good deal for a convertible sports car but was coming up empty. One evening, I logged into work and had an email for discount Globetrotter tickets. The link took me to the Blue Cross intranet page in our old operating system, Lotus Notes. I read every discount on the company page. Some were for deals dating back to the early 2000’s. I ended up finding a Budget Rental Car promo code for Blue Cross Blue Shield employees that was published several years earlier. Being that the page was so old, and most of the other discounts were very out of date, I didn’t have much hope of the promo code working. However, I’d very quickly find out this was the greatest promo code in the history of promo codes… I popped open my browser and plugged in all the details of our trip on the Budget website. I entered the promo code. What happened next blew my mind. First, the economy cars popped up and rates were significantly less, like $7/day. Jackpot. I scrolled down passing the intermediate cars, SUV’s of all sizes, mini vans and trucks – desperately looking for the convertible category. And then I saw it, the “Mustang Convertible or similar” class. Rate, $225. Total. I double checked the dates, thinking I’d only queried up a 2 day rental. Nope. I had it all right. Dates, times and locations were exactly what we were looking for. I added my credit card number. The car was reserved and pre-paid! This was gonna be an epic road trip!

Our flight into FLL took us out over the Atlantic Ocean before swinging back over the coast to land. I don’t remember the flight, so it must have been smooth sailing! Once we touched down, first stop was Budget Rental Car. When we approached the counter, I was so excited about the car. By this point, I had told Dyan every detail there was to know about a Mustang convertible – at least three times. But, because Dyan and I had not been dating for very long, I had failed to mention how great the deal was. I didn’t want her to think I was super cheap after all! I gave the rental agent our reservation information, and she started typing into her computer terminal for a lengthy amount of time. At one point, she looked up at me and stated something along the lines of how great of a deal I had found. I remember just smiling, as to not tip Dyan off that I had just saved nearly $800 off the regular price. She continued typing and even consulted with her manager a couple of times before flatly indicating, “we don’t have any convertibles left.” I pleaded with her for a few minutes indicating that I had pre-paid for the convertible, and didn’t comprehend how they did not have a car that was already paid for. She consulted more with her manager who indicated there was nothing they could do. Their hands were tied because they had no convertibles left. No Mustangs, no Camaros and no Sebrings. They were happy to upgrade us to a full size sedan at no charge. I didn’t want a full size sedan, and the fact they call a full size sedan an upgrade from a convertible Mustang is preposterous. I asked that they check with their rental partners, Avis and Payless to see if they had any convertibles. They scampered off to talk to their affiliates. While they were away from the counter, I overheard a different rental agent offering an convertible upgrade to another customer for a premium. Ah-ha, hey were trying to pull a fast one on me! It was now approaching an hour we had been at the rental counter. Dyan was standing by patiently, but probably bored out of her mind! But now was the time to dig in. This was getting ridiculous.

When the agent and manager returned, they informed me no convertibles were available with their affiliates. Then I dropped the bomb on them. I told them I overheard another agent offer a convertible as an upgrade, which sent them into damage control mode. They both began working over the computer terminal frantically, stuttering over their words. They finally landed on an excuse they could both agree on - they must have just gotten one in stock that didn’t show up in the system previously. They once again disappeared to the back office to see if it was still available. When they returned, they indicated it was good news. They found a convertible, and it was a Chrysler Sebring. I once again told them to try again because if my neighbor was getting offered a Mustang convertible (which he elected not to rent), that same car should be available for me. They knew i was not going to leave there without the Mustang or Camaro. The manager again fled to the office. We waited longer. The manager returned several minutes later indicating they had a Mustang or Camaro convertible for us. After 30 minutes of paperwork, we were finally off to the garage. And this is the part that really got me fuming. As we walked out into the garage, there were multiple rows of convertible Mustangs and Camaros – there must have been at least 20 in the two rows in front of us.

Why would they make us wait two hours if they had this many sports cars sitting in the lot? Had I gone with the sedan “upgrade” they were trying to pawn off on me, did they honestly think I wasn’t going to see the muscle car heaven they had parked inside the garage? Come on! I was at a complete loss for words – that’s about as poorly as I have ever been treated as a customer buying any product or service. [After returning from the trip, I had a conversation with a college buddy who was a manager at my local Hertz dealer. I told him about the deal I found (which he could not believe) and he indicated that convertibles in south Florida have such a huge upgrade premium that they didn’t want me walking out the door with a convertible for 8 days @ $225 when they could upsell it to some rich-schmuck on vacation for maybe $1,500-$2,000 for the same time period]

Now we could finally start our vacation! First up, check into the Westin Fort Lauderdale Beach Resort. Such a gorgeous property, right on the ocean.

They upgraded us to a junior corner suite with a partial ocean view, and a full view of the intercostal waterway and downtown Miami.

We didn’t have too much sunlight left, so we walked on the beach scoping out a dinner spot for the evening. And once we saw LuLu’s Bait Shack, our decision was made. We loved this bar from the moment we walked in. We were looking for a fun party bar right on the beach to have a few drinks and see where the night would take us. This is EXACLY what we had in mind. This bar is basically like a drunk fisherman crashed on FL Beach and wondered what to do next? Sell his fresh seafood, check. Make frozen tropical drinks, check. Relax on an outdoor patio, check. More drinks, ice cold beer, check. "To go" cups for heading over to the beach, check. Live music to entice the folks on the beach to come join the party, check. LuLu’s is a tropic hut nestled on the upper level of a shopping complex directly across from the ocean. Its views are spectacular. It has very few walls so the ocean air fills the place up. The ambiance is upbeat and very "vacationy". Their claim to fame is a $2 tap beer which I ordered and delicious frozen concoctions like the Miami Vice (half strawberry daiquiri/half pina colada) which we both ordered as well. They have a huge wall of premixed frozen beverages in every color of the rainbow. Not overly strong, but delicious nonetheless. We also had the crawfish broil (seasonal). They indicated they fly the crawfish in fresh every few days. We had never had crawfish and were feeling adventurous so we took the plunge. When it came out, it was served on a HUGE platter and we were thinking no way we would eat it all. However, if you have never had crawfish, you only get a tiny bite off meat off each crawfish. It was okay, but not filling. After a couple more drinks, we found ourselves laughing about what we should order for dinner!

We spent the next two days soaking up the sun at Fort Lauderdale Beach, Hollywood Beach and South Beach (Miami). All three beaches had completely different vibes, and Fort Lauderdale Beach was definitely our favorite.

It was a younger, more touristy crowd. Hollywood Beach was a much older crowd – seemed like a retirement community full of orange skinned locals. South Beach was not what I had expected. It wasn’t nearly as busy as I had imagined, and had a very diverse group of people. There was a major homeless problem and I guess I never really felt comfortable with the crowd. We didn’t stray too far from our beach bag/valuables. One of the best things about South Beach was Carabba’s Italian Grill, located on the beach. Although we didn’t know it at the time, this is a chain restaurant all over the county, and they served up some delicious frozen Miami Vices and the best calamari we had ever tasted. As of 2019, this restaurant is no longer in business at South Beach.

Day 4 marked the beginning of our road trip through the Florida Keys. This was one of our favorite aspects of the trip. Sunshine, 80’s, a convertible and island after island ready to be explored. The goal of the day was to crash as many resorts as we possibly could in a single day. And by crash, I mean gain access to the pool and amenities even though we were not registered guests! Throughout the day, we ended up crashing three resorts.

The first island along Highway 1 is Key Largo. This was home of our first attempted crash – Key Largo Bay Marriott Beach Resort. This was our least favorite of the three resorts we crashed. While the pool was absolutely wonderful, the resort grounds seemed very cramped. The hotel structure blocked the sun from a significant portion of the pool, so all the guest crammed into the tiny part of the pool deck that did have sunshine.

A few islands down Hwy 1 is Islamorada, one of the more bustling islands in the Keys. At the very end of the island is a party resort like none other. The Postcard Inn. Our main reason for stopping here wasn’t the resort – we actually didn’t even realize it was a resort at first. What made us stop was the original TiKi Bar situated right on the water. It was lunch time, so we ordered their specialty drink, a Key Lime Colada. It is the most amazing frozen cocktail I have ever had. We ordered seconds, along with a Florida Key delicacy, conch fritters. Everything here was simply amazing. The drinks, the appetizer and the environment. We spent at least an hour lounging in the pool and sipping tropical delights before it was time to head south.

About three islands down the highway is Duck Key and there is no doubt about it, we saved the best for last. Duck Key has one large resort called Hawks Cay. Complete with multiple pools, dolphin aquatic center, a real lagoon, restaurants, bars, and every other amenity of a 5 star resort. We spent a few hours at the pool and lagoon, and also sipping Key Lime Coladas. Their version goes like this: Bacardi superior rum, cream of coconut, fresh pineapple & pineapple juice, touch of keke beach key lime liquor. The drinks, setting and weather equaled perfection. This was by far our favorite resort on the trip.

We continued south to 1 Sandpiper Lane, Marathon Key, our home away from home for the week. This is where Alissa and Jeff rented a magnificent oceanfront estate home that had a front row seat to every sunrise. The home was gorgeous, and perfect for large family gatherings. It has 7 bedrooms, two enormous family rooms, a huge kitchen, pool and outdoor tiki hut.

We spent the next few days day-tripping out of Marathon. We took the family back to Duck Key to spend the afternoon around the pool, and got some much needed fishing gear at World Wide Sportsman in Islamorada. One of the bigger excursions we had was with Sweet E’Nuf Charters – a deep sea fishing experience.

While Captain Dave did put us on some fish, his mood was quite poor and really didn’t do much to keep his customers comfortable. We were chasing sail fish in very heavy seas, about 10 miles offshore. Some of the family handled the rough seas better than others, and Captain Dave couldn’t have cared less about those not feeling well. In addition, most of us had never been deep sea fishing before, so there was a learning curve that needed to be overcome. Captain Dave expected everybody to know exactly what they were doing. He cursed at a few people for snags, missed fish and improper technique. We probably just got him on a bad day, but he was all around a bear to be in the boat with. While we didn’t get any sail fish, we did come away with a mess of mutton snapper, which would serve as dinner!

And speaking of dinners, we pigged out on the freshest seafood the entire trip. Some of our favorite restaurants were Sunset Grill & Raw Bar, Marathon (Oyster’s Rockafeller – Dyan & Dad) and Castaways, Marathon ( sautéed alligator bites, shrimp). Some of the other places we ate at were Red Fish Blue Fish, Key West, Roof Top Café (Key West) and Tonio’s Seafood Shack & Tiki Bar.

On one of the days, Dyan and and I drove down to Key West to spend the day with Dyan’s Aunt and Uncle, Dion and Brad. We loaded up their Boston Whaler and set out on the Atlantic Ocean. We virtually circled Key West before heading out to Boca Grande Key. Boca Grande Key is about as south as you can get in the Florida Keys. The island is pristine and uninhabited, serving as a wildlife sanctuary. We anchored the boat and swam up to the beach. There were crabs everywhere in the water! Our tour guides brought food and drinks, and we chilled on the island for a couple of hours. It was lovely! On our way back the Key West, we noticed dolphins flanking the boat.

Brad slowed the boat down so we could see the beautiful creatures. He then asked if we wanted to swim with them. At first I was hesitant. I mean, they seem like docile creatures when they are in captive spaces, but who knows what these things were like in the wild! Before I could even speak, Dyan was already jumping in the water. Well, I guess I have to go now! I jumped in right behind her.

The two dolphins swam all around us, and underneath us brushing right up against our legs. I was kind of frozen in the water. In hindsight, I wish I would have reached out to touch them, but I guess I was really preoccupied with how these animals actually acted in the wild. Dyan swam with them for about 10 minutes while I more or less just treaded water wondering how long it would be before one of these dolphins got hungry for a foot, calf, thigh or worse.

We finished up the evening with a sunset cruise back to their house.

The night before the wedding, Alissa and Jeff booked a party bus that drove us down to Key West for the evening. That I can recall, there were many frozen drinks consumed as we shopped, had dinner and caught the sunset.

And then came Alissa’s Big Day! She and Jeff got married at an intimate gathering of family at the Sandpiper House, right in front of the ocean.

It had been really hot earlier in the week, but on her big day, the weather chilled out a bit and the slight breeze off the ocean made for perfect conditions.

It was the perfect way to end a glorious week in Florida.

The following day was Valentine’s Day, our final day in Florida. We checked out of the house that morning, and slowly made our way north through the Keys. We made a few stops for shopping and a fresh fruit snack (fresh pineapple!) as we approached the mainland.

For this day, it was the ONLY day we did not have a hotel booked for the night. When planning the trip, I just assumed we would stay near the airport because we had to return the car that evening and take a shuttle to the airport for an early morning flight the following day. But, one thing I didn’t take into account is that it was Valentine’s Day, and hotels in south Florida on this night are VERY difficult to come by. We called at least a dozen hotels, but all were full for the night. I literally thought we’d be renting the convertible an extra day and staying the night at a rest stop. With Dyan working in the hotel industry in a former life, she told me there was a chance some of the hotels near the airport save rooms for walk-ins that they do not offer over the phone. So it might be worth a shot to try a couple of the airport hotels. One of the hotels we called was the Sheraton Dania Beach (now known as Le Meriden Dania Beach). It was situated right on the southwest corner of the Fort Lauderdale International Airport. We pulled in around 6PM, and went straight to the front desk. We talked directly to the same woman who answered the phone when we called. We asked about availability for the night, and she immediately indicated they had space for us. I recall wanting to argue with her about the change in vacancy status, but chose not to. The room, was $400/night. I must have had “Sucker” tattooed to my forehead that room was sold the minute she said she had availability. We ended up eating dinner in the hotel restaurant, which had a special Valentines menu consisting of some kind of surf and turf. At $79/person, it was the only thing on the menu. But hey, it came with a free glass of wine! All that money I thought I saved on the Mustang, ended up being spent on hotel and dinner on the final night! The lesson learned: Don’t plan Valentine’s Day last minute!

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