#<-all of this is from the official jacket they sell. it's in the description | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

baekhvuns · 1 year

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Hold on I found this graph, finally hsjahdiwhsjssjsjgs

I bet they would make a lot of coin, because another obsessed person would be willing to buy his boxers 😭

I just wanna see them on the screen and experience Cyberpunk Hwa so I can d-word in peace! I saw some US ticket prices and they're I N S A N E

The covid break definitely made it worse, but being excited doesn't mean you can behave like a nutbag, especially if you claim to like those people... Omfg this video, he was chilling on the train. Reminds me of that TBZ video. But those bitches running too??? Go the fuck home

Baek Holy Water is what you need for sure. <3

Seriously why isn't there an official Taemin release date, everyone's confused and in shambles... I've waited so long, I'll wait a few more months (begrudgingly), but just tell US.

Oh Y/N's getting a private show then? I'm into this, please I need this to happen 😭 Hwa would be like "I'm not here, I'm just a hallucination"

Sadly stans on Twitter don't know when to stop joking and it's just embarrassing. Just like the "X is bitchless because he likes gaming" it's projecting for me lmaoooo. You know well that's not true. Also what's wrong with being bitchless, sigh. Right, I struggled with Ateez's names at first but after my first encounter with Seonghwa's... hips, I was like "uhhh that blondie?" and the rest is history. Seonghwa might not be the best singer in Ateez, but his voice is so nice and versatile.

Yes, Seonghwa

Bestie Taeyong was supposed to be the fox from Zootopia on Halloween I'm wheezing

Uhmmmm, anyways

Someone read our minds...

"hOW ABOUT FRIENDS TO LOVERS TO ENEMIES TO never reaching lovers" me @ you

Pesticide Wooyoung agsuahshjahsjss unfortunately I can't see Woo like that, but maybe I'll read it 👀

No worries Baek's friend! 💗 The worst thing possible is people wanting Seonghwa's pcs 😭 that's why my Shitstars friends and I started joining or organising more GOs, otherwise we had to fight 🥊I wish your friend luck! There won't be that many photocards so it shouldn't be too bad

Platinum Hwa has me in chokehold so I think you know my answer. Unless it's DV hair Hwa

A mash-up of Tell Me What to Do and Don't Know What to Do suddenly played in my head

NO NO NO NO NO also the 1kg rice story is sending me. 🤧🤧🤧🤧

Baby girl Seonghwa is 🤩 but ??? And the way San attacked Seonghwa lmao, I would do the same. And why was Seonghwa wearing a big fluffy jacket and shorts... please let me see more shiny leg 🤲🏻

SO MF CUTE EAHAJASTOOPPPPP - Seonghwa heart shaped confirmed. Sorry, but he is NOT my brother. Unserious

But San watches Spy x Family aaaaaaa

Thanxx for promoting our survey 😊 what did you vote for 👀

I got "aquarius sun, gemini moon, scorpio rising" idk what it means and the description was not really me hshahsishaja - DV 💖

hi hello!!

Hold on I found this graph, finally hsjahdiwhsjssjsjgs /// I bet they would make a lot of coin, because another obsessed person would be willing to buy his boxers 😭

HELP 😭😭😭😭 THIS IS SO FUNNY THAT RAT POISON ONE FBWKDHWKDBWMHCNC

LMFAOOOO NO BC THEY WERE SELLING IT FOR 10$ 😭😭😭

I just wanna see them on the screen and experience Cyberpunk Hwa so I can d-word in peace! I saw some US ticket prices and they're I N S A N E

idk what bankruptcy suddenly all the companies go thru when they go to US for tour to price their tickets so GODAMN HIGH 😭😭

no literally just bc u get to see ur favs doesn’t mean ur gonna go ballistic like they’re doing their jobs, do ur job by cheering and having fun nOt acting like THAT especially,,, RHKWHDKW PLS THATS SO FUNNY IT BE ONE OF THE HIGHLIGHT OF THEIR LIVES TOO nah bc that’s so embarrassing why are u running 😭😭 we need that one nct bodyguard for all of them tbh <3

Baek Holy Water is what you need for sure. <3

OH JUST ME??? ARE U SURE,,, holy water is perfect for churches tbh <3 a mass i would go out my way to attend <3

Seriously why isn't there an official Taemin release date, everyone's confused and in shambles... I've waited so long, I'll wait a few more months (begrudgingly), but just tell US.

yeah! maybe its bc they’re keeping everything priv bc of what happened but like u can tell us the date so we can expect a return 😭😭 i see him trend daily over his enlistment date,, when he returns i want him to bring a whole new lore with the invu gasoline type of production,, bestie do u know a gatekept website or someone’s bookshelf where they have taemin albums stocked 🔫

Oh Y/N's getting a private show then? I'm into this, please I need this to happen 😭 Hwa would be like "I'm not here, I'm just a hallucination"

PRIVATE SHOW ??? 🤚🏼🤚🏼🤚🏼🤚🏼

Hwa would be like "I'm not here, I'm just a hallucination" STOP BC YN WOULD BE LIKE “wOAAAAH U CAN DO THAT??? HOW WHAAAT???” private show where he shows what he can do all while y/n’s “👁👄👁 ur so cool”

seeing those on the tl is my daily sign to log off that app 😭😭 no bc some be sounding like they’re so serious about it and im like damn u must personally know them to come up with that <3 “Also what's wrong with being bitchless, sigh” HEY THIS ONE!!!! WHATS WRONG WITH IT WHYS IT SUDDENLY A THING TO SHAME ABOUT HELLO 😭😭🤚🏼BFMWBDWK PLS I WHEEZE AT HOW U WERE INTRODUCED TO HIM LMFJAOCOKC those who never paid attention to him at first are now now biggest supporters <33 ur right! it can easily blended and twisted!

Yes, Seonghwa //// Bestie Taeyong was supposed to be the fox from Zootopia on Halloween I'm wheezing // Uhmmmm, anyways

im sorry taeyong was what, are we psychics atp 🤨

omg this is like 90’s bad boy au waiting for his date at a diner

Someone read our minds...

LMFAOOOO STOP IT WHRKWHDLWHDWKHDWK they rly heard us bc what is gordon doing in sk

but id like to ask,, what is this

"hOW ABOUT FRIENDS TO LOVERS TO ENEMIES TO never reaching lovers" me @ you

Pesticide Wooyoung agsuahshjahsjss unfortunately I can't see Woo like that, but maybe I'll read it 👀

personally for me,, wooyoung is so perfect for etl, he’d be sO ANNOYING but would love the yn so much at the same time <3 once childhood friends to enemies to friends to lovers <33

IM TELLING U SHES A DV ANON STAN NOW DBDBDB no bc majority of the ppl want seonghwa pc’s 😭😭😭 so she’ll have to figure it out but thank you!!!

Platinum Hwa has me in chokehold so I think you know my answer. Unless it's DV hair Hwa

long haired ceo or a silver haired ceo but ur in an arranged marriage 🤚🏼 whichever one looks more intimidating in ur opinion!

A mash-up of Tell Me What to Do and Don't Know What to Do suddenly played in my head //// NO NO NO NO NO also the 1kg rice story is sending me. 🤧🤧🤧🤧

ateez tell me what to do cover when 🔫

I NEED THAT MANS PHONE CONFISCATED IDC IDC WHO DOES HE THINK HE IS BEING BOYFRIEND WHY CANT U HUSBAND 🤨

why do men have skinny waists, ur just asking us to pull u by it 🤨 FBWMBDKWH THE LIVE WAS SO CHAOTIC HE JUST CAME OUT OF NOWHERE AND STARTED SMACKING THE CUP AND THEN THE SANHWA TACKLE DBDB and what is up with saNS SHOULDERS SIR HOW MANY INCHES NOW???

SO MF CUTE EAHAJASTOOPPPPP - Seonghwa heart shaped confirmed. Sorry, but he is NOT my brother. Unserious

HES SO BOBA HEADED WHAT THE HELL 😭😭😭😭😭 A MAN LIKE HIM AS UR BROTHER???? NOT EVEN BC I KNOW SOMEONE OR SOMEWHERE THERES A STEP BRO HWA FIC I JUST KNOW

But San watches Spy x Family aaaaaaa

 on my way to write him as that, san needs a spy au its a necessity why haven’t we had more of it esp with a face like this

just a quick question, do u know who this is

Thanxx for promoting our survey 😊 what did you vote for 👀

WHAT WERE THE RESULTS OMG my favs were general hwa, 1baddie hwa, body-ody-ody hwa, shoulders hwa & cLEAVAGE HWA,, what were ur top 5 🔫

I got "aquarius sun, gemini moon, scorpio rising" idk what it means and the description was not really me hshahsishaja - DV 💖

I THOUGHT I HAD THIS ONE 😭😭😭

🔫🔫

also uh,,, did u hear drake’s antifragile

ALSOO??? PRINCESS DIARIES 3 CONFIRMED???

u know who this is pt2

AND OUR GUY WONHO ENLISTMENT 😭😭😭THEYRE TAKING EVERYONE WITH

also ur Uber driver seems to be in paris, here comes ur ceo thv dreams back ✨✨✨

#✉️ : ask #dv 💖 anon

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herskind25karstensen · 2 years

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Accessories

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canadianvesselregistry · 2 years

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Processing to Transport Canada: Bill of Sale for a Boat

Introduction Buying a boat is an exciting experience, and selling one can be too. When you sell your boat to someone else, though, it’s important that the process is legal, simple, and transparent for both parties. There are many reasons for this—including avoiding identity theft or other scams and ensuring that your buyer has the proper documentation to apply for registration of their new purchase from Transport Canada, so it’s best not to mess around with this step. Here’s a simple guide to getting your bill of sale for a boat process correctly.

How To Get Started: Bill of Sale Boat A “Bill of Sale” is a legal document that establishes proof of ownership. It is NOT a title, registration, or receipt. A Bill of Sale cannot be used as proof that you are the owner of a boat; only the original certificate or title will do that.

Be sure to check our site for assistance and clear instructions for your Transport Canada vessel registration. You can speed up the registration process, as applying is easy and completely safe.

Write A Legally Valid Contract For The Boat. A bill of sale is a legally binding contract that details the sale of a boat as well as its condition. It is important to verify that it contains the following elements in order to avoid trouble in the future:

The names of each party involved in the transaction. A description of the boat’s make, model, year, and type (e.g., sailboat). A list of all equipment and accessories included with the purchase (e.g., life jackets). You’ll also need to take care when writing this document so you can avoid confusion about who owns what after you’ve completed your transaction.

Additionally, remember these points in your to-do list when doing the boat transaction.

Make two copies of the contract. Be sure that all of the information is identical on both copies, including the signatures. Keep one copy in a safe place for your records, and give one copy to the buyer. Meet with the potential buyer and take down contact information. To start the sale process, you’ll need to meet with the potential buyer and take down their contact information. This is also a great time to inspect the boat for any damage that may not have been obvious or visible at first glance. It also never hurts to ask the other person if there’s any particular detail you should be aware of.

Bring your boat documentation (boat title, registration, bill of sale) and give them a copy to keep for themselves. You will likely receive payment upon delivery of the boat—so make sure you have enough cash on hand!

Have the buyer inspect the boat. Look for obvious defects, such as damage to the hull, missing equipment or gear, or corrosion.

Look for hidden defects that could be dangerous or cause the boat to sink. For example:

Leaks in fuel tanks and lines Corroded plumbing system Deteriorated wiring connections or insulation Loose or damaged deck fittings (hatch covers) Sign both copies of the contract. To complete the process of selling your boat in Canada, you must sign both copies of the contract. Make sure to date your signatures and make sure they are witnessed by a notary or a similar authority.

A clear bill of sale is helpful in selling a boat. A clear bill of sale is helpful in selling and buying a boat. A clear bill of sale is a written document that indicates the seller, the price, and any other relevant details about the transaction. It also shows that you are aware of all applicable laws and regulations regarding this type of transaction. At the National Vessel Registry Center, we can help you locate and complete the forms and documents that you need to update your records with Transport Canada.

A good bill of sale for a boat will provide an official record for both parties involved in the transaction that supports their version of events and gives them evidence if there are any legal disputes or other difficulties down the road. If a dispute arises later on, having documentation from your bank’s records shows that funds were released into your account by the buyer before launch day; this serves as evidence against any claims by either party for non-payment or fraud on behalf of the other party involved in selling boats.

Taking All Of This Into Account… The Bill of Sale for a boat is a contract that grants ownership of the vessel from one party to another. A clear Bill of Sale will ensure that there is no confusion about the details of the sale and ownership. The steps involved in writing such an agreement are simple and easy to follow, thus making it an important document when buying or selling your boat. Should you face any sort of trouble when dealing with the paperwork and forms, feel free to contact us at any time. A member of our staff will get in contact with you to provide assistance.

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aries-rising-on-an-aquarius-tide · 3 years

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Evocations: XIV (c)

Olivia wasn't about to let the hospital call Alex's parents before she did, so she lied, told the doctor that she would have to retrieve their contact information. Still numb, she found an indoor courtyard that was walled almost completely with glass. It was cool inside, and she could hear the faint trickle of a fountain.

With shaking fingers, she dialled Darcie's number. The older woman, who still had a protective detail of her own, picked up after a single ring.

"Olivia? What is it?"

The sting of pain in her throat, and her eyes was enough to make the stone-tiled floor swim beneath her. She swallowed, then choked only, "Darcie . . ."

But Alexander's mother already knew. The sound of Olivia's voice, the hour of the phone call. "Alexander!" she shrieked in desperation for her husband.

Olivia told them weakly to be on the next flight to the city. After that, Darcie began to scream.

The faintest streaks of dawn light were bleeding into the sky by the time Elliot convinced Liv to let him drive her home. He swept her place, spoke with the detail set up in the hall, then offered to stay with her a while longer if she wanted. She sent him away, wanting only silence.

After locking the door behind him, Liv turned to the apartment, which suddenly seemed ridiculously large for one person, and empty of everything that had made it comforting. In her hands was the jacket that Alex had been holding over her shoulder when . . . when it happened.

Her eyes welled with fresh tears as she stroked the material between her fingers, trying to find some reality in what was happening. Walking slowly, as if her feet pushing air was enough to hold her down, Liv coasted to the kitchen, managed to pour herself a glass of wine, and slid onto a stool at the island, unclipping her holster to lay her gun alongside the wine bottle.

As she sipped her wine, the jacket lay across her thighs, and Olivia smoothed her hands over and over it. After a few more sips, she picked the coat up and brought it to her face, burying her face. A body-shaking sob rose from her chest and poured out of her as Liv breathed deep of Alexandra's soothing scent.

The sobs continued their painful, air-stealing march from her, as she let grief rip her heart in two, until she was gasping to get her lungs to refill, her cries coming out soundlessly. Olivia hugged the jacket against her body, begging to be allowed to crawl into the grave with Alexandra.

This was when she felt something in one of the pockets. It startled her enough to cause her sobbing to relent suddenly, stuttering to a pause as she sniffed hard, looking down dumbly as if she couldn't remember how pockets worked. Long minutes crawled by, until finally Liv worked her hand inside, closing around the item and pulling it out.

When she registered what it was, sitting there in her palm, small and square and much too real - unlike the rest of the night - her heart began to pound.

No, she thought. No, please. Though she didn't know who she was pleading with.

Olivia's breathing was shallow as she opened the velvet box, to reveal the magnificent rose gold ring inside. A noise that defied description left her then, and she placed the open box on the kitchen island as though what had just been revealed was from the climax of a horror film - an eyeball perhaps, or an ear cut from a story's protagonist.

Before her on the counter from left to right, there sat the bottle of red wine, the open ring box, the half-glass of wine, and her gun snug in its holster. Liv sat, unblinking, her brown eyes fixed on the ring.

Suddenly her hand was on her gun, fingertips pressed hard into the cold, familiar steel. Could a heart pound and time slow simultaneously? Olivia's shock-addled mind was nowhere and everywhere at once. Was she trying to ground herself? Shoot herself? If asked, she couldn't have said for sure.

Then she was plucking the ring from the box, and she pushed it slowly onto her finger, admiring its understated elegance. She thought about the dinner Alex had planned, about the way the blonde had looked at her the other night while she had been trying out the new dress.

Her eyes filled up again, and she stood up abruptly, Alex's jacket pooling to the kitchen floor in a whisper. Liv tried to imagine Alexandra on one knee, tried to imagine her eyes when she said yes. The hollow that grief had carved out inside of her was like a crack in a house, letting in cold wind.

The hand wearing the ring pulled her gun from its holster, her palms cold sweating onto the steel, the other onto the marble counter. All of a sudden, the ticking of the kitchen clock was cacophonous.

Then Olivia blinked and her lungs filled again, as though someone had released a pull-string at her back. She released her clutch on her gun, then removed the ring from her finger, placing it back in the box and closing it up matter-of-factly. As fresh tears began to fall, she picked up the wine glass, still half full, and threw it with a grunting shriek across the room. It hit the backsplash to the left of the sink, shattering into shards of glinting glass and streaking red everywhere. Sky High jumped up from where she had been dozing at Olivia's feet and yelped.

Just like Alex's blood, she thought.

Picking up the bottle, she bent to retrieve Alexandra's jacket, then turned to move into the living room. In just a few hours, Darcie and Alexander would land in New York, and they would want answers.

The fact that became startlingly clear once the elder Cabots arrived, was that young lawyers are much less prepared for death than young cops.

Olivia's legal Will was on file, tucked neatly away in a filing cabinet in the unseen heart of One Police Plaza. Earlier just that year, she had officially updated the paperwork to name Alexandra as her sole beneficiary in the event of her death. No such paperwork existed for Alex. The statuesque blonde had been brilliant, stubborn, and utterly defiant when it came to matters of danger or finality. The irony was lost on none of them.

Alexander made a valiant effort to convince Olivia to keep the apartment the two had shared, but she couldn't bring herself to agree to it. Once they travelled back home, she told them, she would take Sky to her old place and they were free to sell the empty place if they chose.

It was no surprise that Darcie participated little in the long list of things that needed to be done in New York. She moved like a ghost from room to room in the apartment, looking but not truly seeing. Alexander and Liv shouldered the responsibility of going through Alex's work desk, closets, bills, and other assets or responsibilities.

Enraged by the fact that Liv hadn't been allowed to see Alex before her body was taken away, he arranged for the majority of her financials to be put into Liv's name. He also agreed on splitting any sale of the apartment in half. They worked out the details of the funeral service with as much input from Darcie that they could wring from the medicated, shell-shocked woman.

On the third day, Olivia returned to work. Being with Elliot felt safe, and kept her mind on work. The mood in the bullpen, however, was no better than the apartment. They all knew the funeral was coming, and their faces were all roadmaps of grief, guilt, and anger.

It was very late when Liv let herself in to the guarded apartment that night. She'd assumed that Darcie and Al would both be asleep in the guest room. So when she rounded into the living room to find the older man sitting up in the armchair, Olivia jumped visibly and caught her breath.

"Sorry," she exhaled, "I thought you'd be asleep."

The tall man had a glass of scotch that he was holding with both hands, and only one lamp was on, throwing a circle of light over his midsection, where Sky High was curled on his lap.

"I've been having as much trouble sleeping as you have," he said quietly.

Liv had been napping fitfully, on the living room sofa, at intervals of about an hour or so, clutching Alexandra's jacket.

"Get yourself a drink, Olivia," Al said. "Sit with me."

She returned from the kitchen with a glass of wine. She sat silently across from him on the sofa and they eyed each other stoically over the rims of their beverage glasses with the weight of their pain. Olivia loved the man; she wondered if he blamed her.

"When my little girl was still a little girl," he spoke up abruptly, evenly, "she loved to tell me that she was going to do everything when she grew up. Like it was a job she could apply for: The Person Who Does Everything, instead of teacher or doctor. 'Daddy,' she would say, 'I'm going to do everything, at least once, you know!'"

Liv sipped her wine as he smiled softly. "So, she started right away. Anything she could try, Alexandra was first in line, clamoring for the opportunity. She danced ballet, took art classes, tried photography, broke and then showed horses, buddied up with chefs to learn from . . . and in school, anything she studied she aced.

"Math, Biology, Music, Physics - it didn't matter. Alex applied the same work ethic to them all equally, just because she loved learning new things. When she came home from university with her first girlfriend, I think Darcie and I wrote it off as just part of her mission to have every experience." He laughed at that, watching the light as it caught the amber glow of his scotch.

"Finally, of course, she settled on studying law. I think that surprised me the most, to be honest - that she went with something folks would have seen as obvious. But I don't think I ever thought of her as 'becoming' a lawyer. I just kept on thinking of her as Doing Everything. Her life was just the long act of trying everything on for size."

Alexander Cabot looked up and caught Olivia's exhausted, sad gaze. "Falling in love with you changed her, Olivia. Suddenly, 'everything' was somebody and not an unpinned location. She wasn't any less stubborn, or brave, of course," he chuckled, "but . . . she was satiated. Loving you was a triumph. I'm glad that she found that. It comforts me."

Olivia prayed that Al couldn't see the tears in her eyes across the shifting shadows of the room. She wanted so much to tell him about the ring box that was now buried in her underwear drawer, wanted to say, Look, look at what your daughter saw me worthy of.

But the words were tangled in her throat like knotted string, making her afraid that what came out wouldn't make sense.

When her glass was empty, she laid it on the side table and rose to her feet. As she passed the arm chair, Al took the hand that wasn't carrying his daughter's jacket. He squeezed it gently.

"This wasn't your fault, Olivia," his voice rumbled.

The funeral was in less than 36 hours.

Every motion in the office the day before the funeral felt like plodding through quicksand. The only one who even sounded right was Cragen, father to them all, trying to maintain some normalcy to keep things from sinking altogether.

"Well, isn't that nice." Cragen grimaced.

"What?" Munch asked.

"Rafael Zapata Gaviria was found dead in a holding cell awaiting a hearing. No witnesses," he announced.

"There goes Velez's extradition," Fin tagged on.

"I long for the days when the government would send in the Delta Force assassination squad," Munch shook his head.

Cragen approached Olivia and Elliot. "DEA Agent Hammond wants to see you guys tonight. There's the address." He passed along a piece of paper.

"What for?" Elliot asked him.

"Something about closin' out the case."

It was truly the middle of nowhere, and full dark when Olivia and Elliot pulled into the sandy dune lined with tangles of greenery. Crickets chirped wildly as they crossed to Hammond through the soft terrain.

"Nice location. Convenient," Elliot quipped.

"Sorry. Only way to do this."

"Do what?" Liv asked, noting the unusual amount of cars and agents.

"Wouldn't take no for an answer. Real pain in the ass, this one," Hammond griped.

The two detectives watched as a van door slid open, and a dead woman stepped into the moonlight. For one terrifying moment, Olivia thought she was dreaming, and that the fabric of the universe would threaten to yawn open and swallow her before she could hear Alex speak.

"I am so sorry about all of this," was what the blonde said. She was clearly exhausted, and a silk scarf hid the evidence of her gunshot wound.

Elliot gaped openly as tears filled his partner's eyes. "Your funeral's tomorrow," was what she managed to reply.

"And you're both expected to attend," Hammond cut in. "For the time being, Ms. Cabot's better off dead. If Velez can get to Zapata, he can get to her."

"Witness protection," Elliot guessed.

"Until Velez is extradited or otherwise dealt with."

No moment the agents could have granted them would have been enough to say all of the things that were screaming inside of Olivia like a siren gone awry. I love you - your parents are here - I found the ring - don't go again - I would've said yes - I'll die without you - thank God you're alive.

"How long?" she asked, stepping closer to Alexandra instinctually, her voice clotted with tears. Alex's eyes were also haunted, with wants, with questions, with guilt. She shrugged her shoulders sadly, not having an answer.

She wouldn't kiss her. Not there, not then. It wasn't a lack of want, but from knowing that if they touched each other, neither of them would let the other go again.

Static crackled over a radio, and a Marshall said, "We're on the move. Sorry, folks."

Another agent said, "Move them out," and Liv and Elliot watched as Alexandra stepped out of their lives again - this time, much more quietly.

When the vehicles had all followed behind, leaving just the two detectives in the cold October night, Olivia let out the sob she had been choking back. When Elliot reached out a hand, she stumbled away from the gesture, hunching over the curb and dry heaving above the grass as wave after wave of nausea knotted her stomach.

Elliot rubbed her back carefully, as though soothing one of his daughters, and waited until she was ready to stand up. When she at last met his gaze, she was wondering how she could go home to Darcie and Alexander and pretend their only child was still dead. How would she go on doing anything, when her entire life had winked out like the sudden last gasp of a dying star?

El smiled sadly, threw an arm around her shoulder, and herded her towards their sedan. For now, nobody had answers, just a trail of destruction and change left behind in the New York Autumn.

#law and order svu #svu #olivia benson #alexandra cabot #alex cabot #olivia x alex #cabenson #evocations #hearteyes4mariska #my writing #fanfic #my fanfiction #angst #loss #elliot stabler #john munch #fin tutuola #donald cragen

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scxrlettwxtches · 4 years

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a marriage story pt. 2 | lee minho

Genre: fluff, angst, (to be totally honest I don’t even know what this is)

Warnings: some suggestive bits, swearing

Word Count: ~4.6k

Description: You were now truly the wife of Lee Minho, your best friend, your confidante, your number one bitch, but now you had to navigate through something much more challenging: becoming the heiress to Korea’s biggest tech company.

A/N: i’m back!!!! im so so sorry that i’ve been away for so long. the virus and with final exams, i just couldn’t bring myself to write at all. im still slowly coming out of my writing slump, and this fic really doesn’t meet my standards, so i feel really guilty putting this out. however, i’d feel even more guilty not putting this out at all, especially since so many people have been waiting! i really hope people enjoy this, and please look forward to my upcoming fics as well! <3 as always, my ask box is always open if anyone ever wants to be friends :) stay safe, love y’all!

It was always the same boring jargon.

You could never understand your husband’s fascination with business, but you did know one thing for certain. He was damn good at it. As you sat by his side, listening to his managers report their latest updates, you could afford to tune them out. But from the corner of your eye, you watched Minho listen to every word, catch every little mistake, leaning forward on the desk to express his utmost interest.

That must be the hardest part of running a business, you decided. You couldn’t imagine listening to old men drone on and on for 7 hours a day, and once again you wondered why Minho had dragged you to another one of his boring-ass company meetings for the second time that week.

You could feel your eyes growing heavier and heavier as you struggled to look attentive. Almost everything was beginning to blend together; all the business rhetoric was flying over your head and you wanted nothing more than to go home.

Just as you were genuinely about to doze off, you felt a gentle, reassuring hand on your thigh. Sparing a glance to your left, Minho’s expression had not changed one bit, still listening to the presentation, but you could tell he was giving you some attention. Briefly, you wondered if he’d been keeping track of your mood since the meeting had begun.

After an eternity, the meeting adjourned and everyone filed out of the room to continue their work in their personal cubicles. Minho and you were the last to leave, and you went around the room fixing chairs and making sure the room was ready for its next use.

“You know you don’t need to do that, right?” Minho asked amusedly, but he helped you without complaint, pushing the projector back to the corner of the room.

“I can’t help it,” you shrugged, “Doesn’t it bother you when you leave the room and everything’s a mess?”

“I’m not going to listen to a word you say until you clean up the junkyard that is your work room.”

“That’s different,” you snapped with no bite in your voice, “That’s called organized clutter.”

“No, it’s just clutter.”

“You’re the worst.”

Minho laughed, finishing up with his side of the room and coming over to you. The meeting room had no windows to the rest of the building, and no one could see you, but it was still embarrassing when he leaned against the table beside you, tugging the hem of your shirt to pull you closer.

“You know you can say things during the meeting, right?” he murmured, looking at you intently, “I don’t ask you to come just to doze off.”

“Talk, in front of those business sharks?” you laughed, “I’m not nearly qualified enough.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” Minho retorted firmly, “And they’ll respect what you have to say.”

“How do you know that?”

“If they don’t...” Minho trailed off, a hungry gleam emerging in his eyes, making him look twice as handsome as usual, “I’ll make them regret it.”

“Oh, how terrifying, Mr. Lee!” you swooned dramatically, giving his tie a sharp tug so you could plant a chaste kiss on his lips, “Managing your business with an iron fist.”

Minho gave your shirt a harsher tug, feeling cheated that the kiss had been so torturously brief. With an arm around your waist, he smirked, “Well, they know how whipped I am for you, darling.”

And if the two of you didn’t come out of that conference room for another half hour, it wasn’t anyone’s business.

ii.

Being married to the heir of one of the most promising tech companies came with a lot of obligations, one of the biggest being constant attendance at a plethora of sponsor parties and business events. As an introvert who’d rather stay at home and draw than go out with friends, parties weren’t exactly your thing, but you didn't hate them as much as you had originally thought you would. There were always interesting people present, and there’s always something to gravitate to.

Tonight, you and Minho were heading to an event to honor one of the company’s most generous donors. It was going to be held at a large convention center, and you knew both Minho and the company had spared no expense when it came to funding this party.

“We have to get going in five!” you called from the bathroom, completing the finishing touches to your makeup. Dressed in a Zuhair Murad Eugenia gown, the long shoulder straps of chiffon billowed down gracefully on your bare back, and the corset-like bodice covered in rhinestones accentuated your figure. You had tied up your hair in a loose, elegant bun to match the style of your dress, and your makeup was simple.

You could hear the rustling of clothes from your bedroom as your husband grumbled, “Why do I always take longer than you to get ready?”

“Because you’re far more of a peacock than I could ever dream to be,” you answered breezily, pushing one more bobby pin in your hair to keep it steady.

“Oh, very funny,” the sarcasm oozed out of Minho’s voice as he walked towards the bathroom, stopping short as he took in your appearance in the mirror. You continued to fix your hair, a bobby pin in your mouth as you smoothed out the bumps, and you let out a surprised noise when you felt Minho press up behind you, his hands now roaming all over your body.

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous,” he whispered in your ear, tilting his head to kiss your neck. You couldn’t help but lean against him in desire, giving him a better angle to leave a trail of kisses, but before things could escalate, you spun around, taking his hands in yours to pull them off your body.

“None of that today,” you spoke firmly, putting his hands back to his side.

Minho still had that hungry gleam in his eyes as he asked with mild offense, “Why not?”

“In case you haven’t noticed,” you gave him a pointed look in the mirror, “we’re going to be late.”

Your husband let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through his hair, but he backed off, understanding your point. Placing one last bobby pin, you grabbed the jar of hair gel and began slicking Minho’s hair back with practiced ease.

“We’ll finish up later, okay?” you attempted to placate him gently. Minho smirked, wiggling his eyes suggestively at you in the mirror, and seeing the crafty look on his face, you let out a dramatic roll of your eyes.

Finishing up your styling of his hair, Minho pressed a quick kiss on your lips, his tongue sweeping your bottom lip before he spoke.

“I’ll look forward to it, then.”

iii.

“Mr. and Mrs. Lee! Over here!” A chorus of voices shouted over one another as you walked into the convention center, your arm securely wrapped around Minho’s. The flashing lights blinded you, but you maintained a professional expression, acknowledging as many photographers as possible.

The long segment of pictures continued (the two of you were the stars, after all), and as you slowly made your way into the building, your eyes caught sight of a familiar face exiting the car that had just arrived.

Feeling you tug at his jacket sleeve discreetly, Minho bent down slightly so your lips were near his ear as you muttered, “Your parents are here.”

“Hah?” Minho glanced at where you were looking, his expression dark, “I didn’t invite them.”

“They still officially own the company,” you sighed, “They can show up whenever they want to, with or without your invitation.”

“They’re going to make some sort of scene, I just know it,” your husband growled under his breath, before giving you a tense smile, “Let’s head inside before we have to interact with them in front of all these goddamn cameras.”

You certainly agreed with that statement, and the two of you ducked into the entrance without so much of a glance back. It had been a while since you’d spoken to the Lee’s, and by speaking you meant them furiously yelling at you about how you had corrupted their son, and you just sitting there, not sure whether you should laugh or cry. When Minho had happened to come home early from work that very day to find his parents insulting every ounce of your existence, he was beyond furious.

“You do not, under any circumstance, get to waltz into my house and insult my wife like she is some piece of dirt that you walk over,” he had snarled, looking angrier than you’d ever seen him, “Don’t ever think of inviting yourself over unless you have something nice to say about our relationship, or I will find a way to legally keep you from coming to this house.”

Long story short, the last interaction was far from pretty.

The decorations for the party were immaculate, with purple mood lighting illuminating the large hall and white satin cloth that draped the walls. It was all very beautiful, if you had to say so yourself, especially because you had suggested many of the features that were present. Minho had always deferred to your judgement with all things artistic, and even though you weren’t confident enough to share your ideas in the office, you were perfectly comfortable telling your husband what you thought of his plans.

“Damn, looks like Hyunjin came,” Minho waved his hand at a familiar figure, who walked over looking very dashing in his expensive black suit and his hand in his pockets.

“Well, if it isn’t the happy couple,” Hyunjin smirked, giving a slight bow as you rolled your eyes, “Love the venue, by the way. Definitely not Minho’s work, since he’s got the artistic talent of a slug.”

“I couldn’t have said it better myself,” You agreed solemnly, while Minho glared at the both of you with a sort of tired resignation.

Behind you, the noises grew louder as Minho’s parents walked into the building, their faces smug as they greeted everyone with wide smiles, happy to be received well by their old employees.

Minho let out a scoff, “Look at them,” he said, his temper already flaring again, but you gently ran your hand along his back.

“Let them have their fun,” you chastised him under your breath, “You don’t want to look ungrateful in front of all your guests.”

Your husband looked like he didn’t quite care what the paparazzi thought, but he relaxed slightly, and you gave him a small smile, “I’m going to grab drinks for us, and you’re going to go find Mr. Kim standing over there and thank him for his generous donations, alright? Hyunjin, do you want anything?”

Hyunjin put his hands out and waved quickly, “No thanks. I’m gonna go find Felix.”

“Lix is here?” Minho looked around, his eyes brightening.

“Yeah, but do what your wife said first,” Hyunjin tilted his head towards Mr. Kim with a sly smile.

Minho rolled his eyes, grumbling, “I swear you guys are just ganging up on me,” but he did as you asked, leaving with a gentle kiss on your cheek.

You shared a knowing look with Hyunjin before walking to the bar, pulling out your credit card from your clutch as you made your way to the counter, ordering two cocktails. As you leaned against the table, waiting patiently, a deep voice interrupted your gentle daydreams.

“Good evening. Mrs. Lee, I presume?”

It was still an unfamiliar way of address to you, but you whipped around as smoothly as possible, trying your best to look unflappable. Standing in front of you was a handsome, black-haired man, no doubt coming from one of the wealthy families that Minho had invited.

“Hello,” you smiled, before asking politely, “I’m sorry, I don’t believe I know—“

“Park Seonghwa,” he interrupted you curtly, “The Park’s and the Lee’s are old family friends. I’m surprised you don’t know who I am, since you are—unfortunately—a Lee as well.”

Okay, so he was that type of asshole. Your smile faltered as your brain repeated a constant mantra.

Don’t screw up. Don’t screw this up for Minho. Smile, deflect, leave.

You put on a tentatively polite smile as you spoke, “I’m not sure what I’ve done wrong to upset you, but—”

“Don’t patronize me,” Seonghwa’s eyes flared, although his tone still decidedly curt, “You—a high school dropout, a nobody—shouldn’t even dare to walk beside the likes of Lee Minho, much less marry him.”

Your blood boiled, and you wanted nothing more than to sock this asshole in the face. You gripped your clutch tightly, clenching your jaw as the bartender came back with your two drinks.

Seonghwa paused, looking at you up and down before smiling with mock pity, “Dressing up doesn’t suit you, Y/N. Maybe you should crawl back to the gutters where you belong and stop pretending to be something you’re not.”

At that moment, something in you snapped, and you no longer cared about your carefully crafted personality. Fuck that. Fuck the press. Fuck every careful step you’ve taken to maintain your reputation.

“Park Seonghwa,” When you spoke again, your voice was colder than ice. Even Seonghwa could feel it, as surprise flashed in his eyes.

“Once again, I apologize for anything that I have done to upset you. However,” Your voice held an undercurrent of a growl as you took a step towards him, very subtly intruding in his personal space, “that does not give you the right to insult my character.”

“Y/N—“

“It’s Mrs. Lee to you,” you interrupted him harshly, “Rather pathetic, waiting for a moment that I’m alone to speak to me in this manner. Tell me, if Minho were standing beside me, would you say everything that you just said right now?”

Seonghwa’s eyes went wide, as his cold, sultry voice grew nervous, “I-I—“

“Let me answer that for you, Mr. Park. You wouldn’t,” you snarled, letting the words sink in before smiling coldly, “Your company is an extension of Minho’s, am I right? What do you think will happen if I told him that you were an egocentric asshole who believes himself superior to others because of something as trivial as birth? Do you think you’ll be part of this elite circle that you hold so dear after he is through with you?”

Seonghwa was utterly speechless, his mouth opening and closing wordlessly as you grab the two glasses from the table, turning away from him with an expression of utter disdain.

“I hope you spend some time to correct your mentality before you end up verbally assaulting someone who has less patience than me.”

You stalked away with your head held high and your anger still simmering under the surface as you walked over to Minho, who was conversing with Mr. Kim. The intense urge to hurl something at the wall waned slightly, and you couldn’t help but smile at your husband.

“Darling,” you purred sweetly as handing him his drink, snaking an arm around his waist in a gesture of comfort, but also a gesture of seeking his attention.

Your husband, your wonderful, perfect husband, could tell immediately from the sound of your voice and your actions that something had happened. In an act of courtesy, you introduce yourself to Mr. Kim, who treated you with far more grace and politeness than the person you’d just interacted with. Minho, holding your waist tightly, excused himself from Mr. Kim’s presence before pulling you to a less crowded corner.

“What’s happened? Are you alright?” He asked, the worry apparent in his features as he ran his hands up and down your side comfortingly. The act alone already soothed your earlier anger.

Shaking your head, you gently tapped his forehead with your knuckles, “Don’t make that expression. You’ll get wrinkles,” you chastised him teasingly.

Minho’s grip on your waist tightened, “You didn’t answer the question,” he pointed out.

You sighed tiredly, “It’s the usual. Some assholes think that I don’t deserve you.”

The reaction was immediate, his eyes darkening with cold, contained fury as he clenched his jaw, “Who?” He growled, already looking around the room as if he could sense who would dare insult his wife.

“Don’t worry about it,” you said breezily, putting your hand on his arm in an attempt to appease his anger, “He already regrets it.”

Minho froze, his angry frown molding into a cocky smirk, “You scared him, didn’t you?”

You winced, “Yeah, I’m sorry. I tried to stay cordial, but I got angry and—fuck, I think I ruined things for you—“

“Hey—hey, look at me, darling,” The anger in Minho’s voice had dissipated, leaving only gentle concern as his hands cup your cheeks delicately, his thumb brushing your face as you looked up at him.

“You didn’t ruin anything, okay? You had every right to be angry and I’m so, so proud of you for standing up for yourself,” Minho’s voice didn’t hold a shred of anger, only a firmness as he looked you in the eye.

“But, the press—“

“The press won’t write anything, and if they do, I’ll shut it down the moment it appears,” Minho said soothingly as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear, “You did so well, and I love you so much.”

A quiet, relieved sob choked out of your lips and Minho sighed, giving you a gentle kiss on your forehead, “I’m sorry, baby. I always hate putting you in situations like this.”

You leaned into his touch, gently holding his hand, “It’s alright, I knew what I signed up for,” you said, smiling reassuringly, “Besides, I know you’d destroy them if you ever saw it happen. If anything, I’m more worried about their lives.”

Your words had the intended effect, calming Minho’s anger, “Is that why you never give me names?” He asked with an almost resigned voice; he’d never understand your commitment to protecting people who didn’t deserve a moment of your attention.

“I just don’t want to cause you trouble,” you answered with a smile, but instead of smiling back, Minho looked stricken, like a sudden thought had come into his head, something he’d never realized before.

“Y/N, are you—”

“There you two are!” Hyunjin ran over, exasperation clear in his features, “You have to make the toast, Minho! Everyone’s waiting for you!”

“Fuck,” Your husband scowled as Hyunjin ran back to notify the staff. Turning to look at you with a determined expression on his face, he said firmly, “You’re coming onto the stage with me.”

“W-what?” You let out an incredulous laugh, backing away from your husband and feeling as if the comfortable rug you’ve been sitting on had just been yanked out from under you. You’d never been in the spotlight at any galas, and you never wanted to. After all, more time on the stage meant more public scrutiny, and public scrutiny meant bad press for Minho, “Darling, you can’t. This is your party and your future company—”

“It’s going to be your company, too,” Minho retorted, looking deadly serious, “And don’t act like every single one of these decorations wasn’t your idea. You played just as big if not a bigger part in putting this together, even if you don’t want to admit it.”

You shook your head frantically, trying to muster a believable smile, “I don’t want the credit, really. If your employees see you bringing me up there…”

“Y/N,” Minho moved towards you, cupping your face with his hands as he stared you down, his eyes filled with nothing but absolute love and adoration, “There’s no time to have a genuine conversation on this topic right now, but I need you to at least know this. I will never be ashamed of you, Y/N. Never.”

“I know,” You said soothingly, but Minho didn’t look convinced, “I know you’d never be ashamed of me, love, but there’s a difference between not being ashamed and bringing your-high school-dropout wife up on stage in a large and very important gala.”

“They don’t know you,” Minho replied bluntly, “They don’t know that you dropped out to work and pay for your mom’s medical bills. They don’t know how you gave up everything to take care of her. They don’t know how your words pulled me away from the drugs and the alcohol that was working to consume me.”

Stroking your cheek gently, he spoke, “I’m nothing without you, Y/N, and I’m perfectly alright with letting the world see that,” you choke on a sob as he kissed your lips, asking softly, “Is that alright with you, darling?”

You took a moment to collect yourself, staring up at your husband who owned the world in his hands but would drop it all in an instant if you merely said the word, and nodded, “Yes, of course.”

The whispers spread like wildfire as Minho walked onto the stage with you. The cameras flashed and you could hear the shutters clicking, drowning out the sound of your own heartbeat. You hated it. It felt suffocating, and you couldn’t breathe. You had to get out, or you’d ruin everything Minho built--

“Love, I’m right here,” Minho murmurs into your ear, holding onto your waist, and suddenly you felt grounded, brought back to reality with the sound of your husband’s voice, “Don’t look at them, look through them. Their opinion doesn’t matter.”

As you looked out into the crowd, spotting the aghast expressions of Minho’s parents, the envy of the people who would kill to be Minho’s one and only, the venom in Seonghwa’s eyes with a hint of fear as your gazes locked onto each other, it was hard to believe Minho’s words. Opinions created fact in the eyes of the media, and the people that hated you could rewrite your entire identity with a snap of their fingers.

But, as you felt Minho’s firm, reassuring hand on your waist and caught sight of Hyunjin and Felix snickering in the back, you couldn’t fight the smile threatening to appear on your face, your body relaxing and getting used to the spotlight. He was right. They didn’t know you, they didn’t know even a bit of you that really mattered, only seeing what they want to see.

Minho’s lips quirked up into a smile, feeling your gradual shift in mentality as he continued to talk, and he gave your waist a subtle, but loving squeeze.

epilogue.

It was always the same boring jargon.

You sat at your husband’s side, as always, your legs crossed and your head resting against your hand, a perfect picture of relaxed passiveness as you watched grown men squabble at the conference table like young children over a pretty toy.

“The charity money should go to the academy!” One of the men said roughly, “ That’s where it’s gone for years. There’s no use in creating frivolous drama and gossip by changing the beneficiary now.”

“The new school being built by the Park’s would benefit from the additional funding,” Another argued, and your gaze moved towards him, also keeping an eye on a particular Park Seonghwa, who had been decidedly quiet, “The students would be able to receive additional benefits from the donations.”

“The arts center that we have sponsored the construction of would also be a good candidate,” An employee interjected, “It would also bring good publicity for the company, showing our interest in supporting the arts--”

“No.”

All eyes turned towards you, who had not shifted from your laid back position even after your curt interruption. If your husband was surprised, he didn’t so much as blink in surprise, although you could see the telltale glimmer in his eyes, telling you clearly that he was actually amused.

“We’re not going to use the charity money on any of those projects,” you continued, sitting up in your seat, “We’re going to use it for exactly what the definition implies. Charity.”

Seonghwa made a noise, a clear scoff in disguise as he glanced at you, “Mrs. Lee, the past 30 minutes of the meeting have been devoted to discussing the use of the money for--”

“Giving a couple million dollars to projects that already have billion dollar budgets is not charity, Mr. Park,” you interjected cooly, before finally sitting forward to open your laptop, “I’d suggest moving the funds to support the public schools in the city, which are all severely lacking in resources.”

Minho’s face remained impassive, but his eyes were smiling as he quietly observed you take over the room, handling every objection to your proposal with a lazy ease and snark that he’d fallen in love with after mere days of meeting you. After everyone had exhausted their attempts at trying to bring the money back to their own projects, he finally cleared his throat.

“When it comes to charity, the last argument that should be made is about the return profit,” Minho said, his voice low and commanding, “The Lee Company has more means to do good in the city than any other company, and it is perfectly capable of using its additional funds to support people without asking for anything in return.”

His employees are grew quiet with a chastised silence, one that he reveled in before continuing, “Now, if anyone has an opposition to my wife’s proposal that doesn’t revolve around a more financially beneficial option or better publicity, feel free to speak.”

The continued silence felt like a personal triumph for you as you sat back in your seat, once again assuming your relaxed, rather bored posture.

“Good,” Minho said firmly as his employees continued to sit in silence, “Y/N will lead with the execution of this charity. Thank you for a productive meeting, everyone.”

As the people filed out of the room, leaving you and your husband to lounge around the empty and secluded space, you let out a gasp as Minho stood up, loosening his tie before bending down and smashing his lips against yours in a deep, hungry kiss.

“Fuck, do you even know how hot that was?” He groaned, biting your lower lip as his hand gently tilted your head up to a better angle for him to explore your mouth with his tongue.

You couldn’t help but chuckle, letting your husband have his fun as you bit his lip teasingly, “Did you really just get turned on by me scolding your employees?”

“Love, I get turned on by you doing practically anything,” Minho chuckles, pulling away slightly to gaze down at your red cheeks and swollen lips, “But you putting people in their place might take the cake.”

“Hmm, is that so?” You hummed, wrapping his tie around your hand and giving it a light yank, “Maybe I should put you in your place, too, darling.”

Minho smirked, his eyes darkening at your words, “Oh, sweetheart, you’re gonna wish you didn’t say that,” he laughed, leaving a fleeting kiss on your lips before pulling away from you completely, moving to lock the door with a soft click.

It was a godsend for the people outside that the conference rooms were built to be soundproof, because two of you walked out maybe half an hour later, your neck littered with marks, courtesy of Minho’s love and hunger, and your legs wobbly, relying on Minho’s firm grip around your waist as the two of you walked back to the parking lot.

And if Minho guided you down the path that would pass Park Seonghwa’s office, flashing him a smug smile, he swore it was nothing more than a simple accident.

#stray kids reactions #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids drabbles #lee minho imagines #my fics

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intothemaddyverse · 3 years

Text

A Master Returns

Chapter 2 of Reunited Series

Word Count: 2,307

Rating: Mature (nothing explicit, just a small bit of suggestive language/behavior)

I apologize for the long wait, I hope you enjoy!

Okay hold on, you just need to get your wits about you and assess the situation quickly. This is either going to be very bad or just incredibly awkward. Maybe both, it all depends on how you react. You just have to pretend you don’t know who this man is. Maker, why is Din holding your shoulders in a death grip? He only does that when he’s both terrified and furious. You’ve got to hurry up and say something, Din is looking at you like he’s about to beat the shit out of this man. Alright this’ll be fine. Just have to-

“What happened to her? I’m sorry I didn’t catch your name…you’re a Mandalorian right?”

Say something already.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?”

Din looks back at you, loosening his grip slightly but breathing heavily. “Do you-is he…” Din can’t even get a full sentence out, it’s almost as if he’s not here. As if he’s in a different place entirely, and just left a sliver of himself to protect you.

“Come on angel, you know me. It’s been a while since you were training with your-“

Those words, he chose those words. In that particular order.

“WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL HER?”

You close your eyes and let out a deep exhale. You were waiting for the perfect time to tell Din, and this is definitely not it. So much happened while you and him were separated. There were hardly any Jedi left, learning that you were force sensitive during the height of Imperial rule was terrifying. You did what you felt was right in order to learn how to properly defend yourself.

“The only person who can call her angel is me. I suggest you turn around and go back to Niima Outpost before I drag you there personally.” Din is standing right in front of you, blocking the sun but also your view. “It’s alright Din, I feel better now. If you can just help me up I’ll handle this.” That doesn’t seem to make Din any more relaxed, but it at least brings you into the conversation. Sitting on the ground getting sand in your clothes was not going to do anyone any good. He reluctantly lets go of your hands once you’re standing upright, but stays close behind you. You’re still a tad woozy, but you had to convince Din you were strong enough to leave his grasp and confront the man he was about to strangle.

“I never thought I would see you again Master, especially like this…” At this particular moment you can only see Din slightly in your peripheral vision, but you most certainly can hear him. You can feel him. Maker, this is going to be so hard to explain later. The fact that this came back to haunt you is insanely frustrating but you know Din will understand…you hope he’ll understand. You proceed with caution, choosing your words carefully. For a second you think Din stopped breathing, but then you hear a long sigh and feel as though this is the right moment to continue.

“You? With a Mandalorian??” You forgot how chatty he is. His bedside manner clearly hasn’t gotten any better but at least no one has attempted to kill each other yet. “You forgot to stay hydrated didn’t you? You always worked at your training harder than anything, nothing else mattered until you finished…” You hear Din grunt and take step closer to you. You turn your head slightly, as if you are answering your former master but directing the response at Din. “Yes, finishing training was always my main focus, kept me distracted.” You place your hand on Din’s shoulder and give him a nod before turning to continue the cringe-worthy dialogue.

“Master, do you remember how I would always talk about the boy who got away? This is him…”

You might as well have shot Din with his blaster, that just about killed him. He doesn’t know much about the intricacies of Jedi, but he can’t help but think that bringing up past feelings for someone isn’t something they would want you to do. Like Mandalorians, Jedi were given a specific purpose, a niche role in the galaxy. Different in principle, but not so distinct in action.

“Does he know?”

Shit. He helped you so much when you lost your family but he never knows when to read the situation and be quiet.

“He…I…it never came up…” Din takes a step towards you, placing his left arm around your waist. “I’m sorry Master. it was wonderful to see you again, but we have to pack up and start heading out soon.” Please let that be enough. Din’s grip tightens slightly, making your heart rate increase just as you were starting to feel calm again. Please, just leave. Noticing Din’s strong hold on you while you struggle to stand upright, he finally gets the hint.

“Always a pleasure to see you an-”

With a sharp tilt of his head, Din tries to run past you but you stop him before he can. You close your eyes and take deep breath while keeping a firm grip on Din’s right forearm. “May the force be with you Master.”

He nods his head. “And also with you. Nice to meet you, um..”

“Mando” Din says, surprisingly not very harsh at all. He seems to be at peace with the notion that you clearly want him to leave. “Here, take this,” he says hesitantly, reaching out to Din with a canteen and small bag filled with tuanulberries and portion bread. “It’s not much, but it’ll surely help her regain the strength she needs to continue traveling.” He’s not wrong there. Din takes the water first, then the bag placing it on the ground beside him. “Thank you sir…”

A quick smile in your direction is the last you will ever see of your old master. Din lets go of you for a brief moment, allowing a rush of exhaustion to drain the strength from your body. “SHIT! You lied to me!” Din says as he whips around to see you falling. Within a few seconds he practically catapults himself towards you, latching onto your upper body so that you don’t land face first in the sand. “I’m sorry Din,” you say as your lip begins to quiver. As rugged as he is, Din is very good at being gentle. It’s rather clumsy the way he sits on the ground, but that’s mainly due to your noodle-like state and his less than desirable positioning as he caught you. He slowly lowers himself to the ground, placing you delicately on top of him. You fit so perfectly in the contours of his body, your head resting on his armor as he wraps both arms around you.

“Din I’m sorry I lied, I didn’t mean to-”

“I wasn’t talking about him, I was talking about your health. We can’t figure out our next move until you’ve properly recovered.” Your eyes begin to well up with tears as Din places his hand on the back of your head. He slowly brushes your hair out of your face, the first tear of yours landing on his chest. “Hey,” Din whispers, using his gloved hand to cradle your head, the other still resting on your lower back. “You don’t have to explain now. When you’re ready to tell me, I’ll be ready to listen.”

***

How does one even begin a conversation on this topic. Imagine waking Din up and blurting out “you ready to hear about me being force sensitive??” That would send him into the next system. Actually…would it? The Jedi Order was long gone by the time you were both old enough to even grasp the concept of a Jedi. You never really were a Jedi, just trained by one.

He wasn’t even officially given the title of “Master”. Okay, you’re spiraling. Calm down. Like he said before you’re stuck with each other now, learning that you’re force sensitive won’t ruin anything. Ugh, will it though? No, NO. Maker, calm down. After all you have been through together, this small bit of information you left out will be nothing more than a new conversation to be had.

***

It almost feels like you’re floating. Sailing through the waves of an ocean with nothing but each other to hold on to. Din breathes so deeply when he sleeps. It could be the fact that you’re resting on top of him, or that the gravity of each day still weighs heavily on him while he’s asleep. Each breath he takes lifts your entire upper body, leaving you both suspended in the cool desert air for a brief moment before falling back down to the grains of sand concaving around Din’s large stature. Why doesn’t he at least take his boots off? It can’t be comfortable to sleep like that. But then again, who wants sand in between their toes?

***

The sun has completely disappeared by now. Hopefully when you reach the marketplace there will be a vendor selling clothes. You still have a good amount of credits stashed away, hopefully enough for a proper meal and a new jacket. You’re trying the best you can to control your shivering, but to no avail. A small grunt comes out through the modulator. “You’re cold aren’t you?” He tries to hug you tighter, but for some odd reason you feel like this is the right time.

“Din?” You say as you look up at him, studying the curves and sharp edges of his helmet with worry in your eyes. “I…I’m ready to tell you…”

His body suddenly tenses up. Great. Your mind is already running through a variety of ways this conversation could go, none of them ending well. You carefully place your hands on either side of Din to lift yourself up, arms still shaky.

“You poor thing…”

He sounds awfully discouraged. The extent of your heat exhaustion was immense, clearly he must have known you wouldn’t be fully recovered at this point. “I hate seeing you like this…it scares me.” Did he just say it scares him? You weren’t around to witness the legendary bounty hunting you heard whispers of, but the descriptions of it made him sound like the most terrifying person in the galaxy. Surely there aren’t many things that legitimately scare him anymore. But then again, it’s been a long time.

“I’ll be alright Din, the fruit and water will help me a great deal.” Now sitting beside him, the fire he made crackling in the silence, you contemplate the best way to explain everything to him. Grogu has been napping practically all day, if it weren’t for a few soft coos coming from his pod you would definitely be worried.

“Okay so, um…do you know what force sensitivity is?” you say as a sudden wave of anxiety surges through you. Din lets out a sigh. Great, this is already going south.

“You need to calm down love, you know me. You’re marrying me. Sure, it’s been a while since we last saw each other on a regular basis, but I haven’t changed. I wish you had told me sooner but I’m not mad at you.” Okay, that’s good. You aren’t sure why you thought he would be upset, but the amount of relief you feel releases the tension from your body nonetheless. “I do not know what force sensitivity is, can you explain it to me?”

Oh Maker, that was the most endearing thing you’ve ever heard. What a sweetheart, and he’s yours.

“Actually, one quick question,” Din says with genuine curiosity. “Why did you call him Master? Doesn’t he have a name?”

“Yes, but it’s irrelevant. I use the term ‘Master’ as a sign of respect.” Din wraps his arm around you as you allow your hand to caress his inner thigh.

“STOP THAT” he exclaims while retracting his arm and turning his body away from you. “There’s no way I can intently listen and grasp what you’re telling me if you do that.” You let out a small, timid laugh. “Sorry,” you say while letting your shoulders fall and head droop downwards.

“Hey, it’s alright. Start again from the beginning. Can you describe to me what the force is?”

Oh no. You feel it coming and try with every ounce of energy you have to stop it, but it’s no use. You let out the loudest and longest yawn humanly possible. Before you can continue, your mind begins to wander. It’s so hard to create a proper response when you’re this tired. “Actually Din…please don’t be upset with me...” He tilts his head slightly as If he’s trying to read your mind. Maybe that’s how he thinks the force works.

“Can I tell you tomorrow instead? I can show you how I use my abilities in real life situations when necessary. I’ll be able to show you how I can connect with Grogu…”

“Really?? You woke me up only to change your mind?” Shit, there it is. He’s upset now. Hold on…did he really just gloss over you saying you can connect to Grogu??

“I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have said anything, I-”

“I was joking. Yes, you can tell me tomorrow. Now get over here, I have two free arms that need an angel to hold on to.” You stand up slowly to prevent collapsing on top of him. He reaches for your hands and gives you the stability you need to lower yourself in between his legs. Holding you in a warm embrace, he whispers in your ear. The last words you hear before falling asleep make your heart do a summersault in your chest.

“I’m going to get you for that.”

#the mandalorian #mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian x reader #din djarin #din djarin x reader

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edxwin-elric · 4 years

Text

Darkest Roads - Ch. 1

Chapter 1: 30k Cens

(art by @ayanthos)

Rating: T

Pairing: Edwin/Edward Elric x Winry Rockbell

Disclaimer: I don’t own Fullmetal Alchemist.

Total Word Count: 15k

Chapter Word Count: 4.5k

Description: Edwin Street Race AU - fluff/drama

Edward, an angst-ridden teenage daredevil, has it rough. Practically living on the streets, constantly worrying about his younger brother, and always looking over his shoulder has hardened him, giving him a reputation on the streets of Central City. Though, in truth, his bark is worse than his bite—something Winry finds out when a search for a rare car part lands her in the middle of illegal street racing. One look at the innocent blonde mechanic standing alone among the loud voices, revving engines, and squealing breaks, in a haze of exhaust and cigarette smoke has Ed ready to throw himself at her feet. But his sins are piling up, and he knows better than to try to involve an adorable auto shop princess in his mess. But Winry has secrets of her own, and despite all of his efforts, she’s impossible to resist.

A/N: It's finally here! FMA Big Bang!! I had a lot of fun writing this, and I'm super grateful to @ayanthos for her AMAZING art contribution to this collab! I hope you all enjoy it! Let me know in the comments, and please check out the other works from this event!! @fmabigbangs

ffn || ao3 || tag

next chapter

Winry

Glancing at the GPS on my phone, I stop walking and look at the street sign. I lean forward a little, my feet shifting on the sidewalk, and glance down the dark alley. A shiver runs down my spine, but I take a deep breath. I bite my lip and look at the time. Past midnight. This is a reckless idea… but I can’t go home now, not when I’ve come this far.

“Okay,” I concede softly to myself, trying to calm my nerves. “I mean, this is where it says to turn.”

I step off the main road into the shadows, pulling my jacket closer to me. I hear something scurrying to my right, and I start to walk faster. Gripping my phone tight in my pocket, I continue to follow the twists and turns it gives me until I turn left onto Cardinal Street, which actually looks almost habitable, and hear engines revving nearby.

As I get closer, the blind panic starts to dissipate, only to be replaced by a new kind of anxiety.

“Paninya, what have you gotten me into?” I mutter to myself as I turn the last corner and—

Choke.

I’m suddenly lost in a haze of cigarette smoke. Coughing, I stumble to the side, only to find a tall, angry person, who pushes me away.

“Sorry,” I sputter.

Crap. This is not going well. I move away, and wave my hands around my face. The air clears enough to give me a decent view of the stretch of crowded road in the hazy streetlights.

Yep. This is definitely the place. Sinners’ Lane. (That’s not the official name of course, but…it might as well be.)

To my right, loud bass music thumps out of various car speakers. On top of those cars are couples in various positions of…intimacy. I feel a blush spread down my neck, and I turn the other way. To my left are the angry smoking guy and some other guys who are also smoking and look just as angry, though some of them seem to be holding cigarettes while some are holding what I can only assume are joints. Past them are clusters of girls dressed…scantily. Not necessarily distastefully, though, I just don’t think I’d ever be able to pull off a look like that. I squint at them… Is that a shirt or a bra?

The loud sound of an engine revving makes me jerk. I look past the girls to the main attraction.

A street race.

Two rumbling sports cars inch forward until they’re waved at to stop at the makeshift starting line. I see the two drivers throwing up rude hand gestures to each other, and one says something that makes the other one jerk his neck and rev his engine.

“Remember,” a spiky-haired guy wearing a fur-collar vest calls out, as he walks in between the cars. “It’s the first one to the second stop sign. Winner take all. Anything goes.”

He slaps his hands on the hoods of both cars and spins around, facing the drivers.

“You can go when my lady, Lust, gives you the signal. Good luck!”

He walks off to the side, and a lady with hair down to her knees walks out in his place. Her hips sway in ways that shouldn’t even be possible, and the way her chest is contained in that strapless dress defies the laws of gravity and…other physics.

“Play nice, boys,” she calls seductively, and the guys in the surrounding crowd whoop and whistle.

Then she whips out a green flag from…somewhere and the two cars fly past her. I barely have time to turn my head before they’ve roared by, heading for the end of the street. The Dodge wins by a split second. They slow and turn down opposite side streets, and I can only assume they’re driving back around to settle things.

But I didn’t really come here to watch. I’m on a mission.

“So…” I whisper under my breath. “If I were selling car parts to these guys, where would I be…”

I scan the street again, and…honestly, I have no clue. Looking back at the starting line, two new cars are setting up to go. The guy with the leather and fur looks like he’s in charge. I guess maybe he can help me.

Moving through the crowd, I inch past different groups of people, trying not to make eye contact with anyone, until I’m fairly close to where the guy was standing during the last race.

A loud bang! catches me off guard, and I jump. I look toward the sound to see the boss guy holding one of the potential racers by the front of his shirt. He’s got him pulled halfway out of his driver’s side window, and they’re practically nose to nose.

I feel my throat lock up as cold races down my spine.

“Don’t you ever try to short me again, little punk.”

“I’m s-sorry, Mr. Greed, sir,” the driver whimpers. “I swear, it’ll never happen again.”

“Damn right it won’t,” the boss guy snarls, “or you know what’ll happen.”

The driver visibly swallows, and I can almost see his fear like an aura surrounding him.

“Good.” The boss sets him down in his car and pats his shoulder. “Glad we understand each other.”

When he moves away, he turns toward me, and I freeze when his eyes meet mine. Or rather, his circle sunglasses. Who the hell wears circle sunglasses at night? Or at all?

He grins at me, and I take a step back, stumbling into someone.

“Hey! Watch it!”

I turn around and duck my head. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t see you.”

“Oh really?” a sarcastic voice snaps back. “Is that some sort of short joke!”

“What?” I blink and look up at the guy talking.

He’s a very angry blonde guy wearing a red leather jacket, black leather pants, and black combat boots. The leather gloves are a nice touch. His hair is tied up in a ponytail except for his bangs that fall in his eyes. Honestly, he’d be kind of cute if he weren’t vibrating with rage.

“You trying to say I’m some kind of pipsqueak!?”

“N-no,” I say softly, confusion muddling my brain. I mean, he’s taller than me—only by a few inches, but still. Plus, I don’t even know him. “I j-just…”

“You are a pipsqueak, Elric.” A guy with a dog collar walks up and throws his arm around him.

“WHAT?” Blonde Guy twists violently out of the guy’s embrace, looking murderous. “Get your hands off me, Dolcetto!”

“Give the girl a break, kid. She’s clearly lost.”

Oh no. Is it that obvious I don’t belong here?

“I’m not lost,” I protest, but my voice wavers, and I know I’m blushing.

The blonde guy looks at me again, and his face loses some of its anger. And I was right. He is kind of cute.

“No, seriously, what are you doing here, princess?” he asks, crossing his arms. “Aside from assaulting the locals.”

“Don’t call me ‘princess,” I snarl, “and I wasn’t assaulting–”

“Giving our guest a hard time, Edward?”

I feel a shadow fall over me, and I shiver at the smooth voice behind me.

“What? No. I was just talking to–”

The shadow moves closer, and the blonde guy drops his arms, his hands clenching into fists. I catch his eye, and it’s like I can hear him telling me to run for it. But I can’t move. There’s a moment of deafening noise as the cars behind us take off, and then the voice speaks again.

“Did you need something, Miss?”

Slowly, I turn to face him, the guy with the circle sunglasses, the one who is way scarier than I first realized.

“Um, n-no. I was just… I was just–”

“Are you cold?” he offers gently, his current demeanor nothing like the guy who threatened the driver a few seconds ago. “I can get you something warm to drink. My name is Greed. I’m sort of the boss around here.”

“No.” I shake my head, hugging myself tighter. “No, thank you, Mr.…Greed.”

I might be shivering, but it’s not from the cold.

“Just Greed is fine.”

“Oh, okay. Um. Actually, I was hoping to find someone who sells rare engine parts,” I tell him in a rush before softly adding, “I’m a mechanic.”

“Oh, a mechanic?” He grins broadly and holds out his arm, his other sliding around my shoulder. “Why didn’t you say so?”

He starts pulling me down the street, and I feel panic flood my veins.

“I know just the person to help you with–”

“I can help you.”

I jerk my head toward the voice only to find the blonde guy—Edward, I guess—watching us intently. I plead to him with my eyes to save me. I’m not sure if he’s really any more trustworthy than Greed, but something about him feels…safe.

Or safer, I guess.

“It’s no trouble, Elric,” Greed tells him, his voice thinning slightly. “I can take care of Miss…”

“Rockbell,” I supply without thinking.

I immediately want to rip my tongue out when I see Edward wince. I’m so dumb. Obviously, I shouldn’t tell any of these people my name.

“Miss Rockbell,” Greed finishes, his voice clearly sugar-coated now.

“But aren’t you busy with the races?” Edward cuts in quickly.

“Dolcetto and Martel–”

“I just saw three half-drunk guys with a ‘Vette pull up in the back. They look like the usual trust funders and ripe for the picking.”

“A ‘Vette you say?” Greed’s tune changes sharply. “Hmm. Still…Dolcetto and Martel should be able to handle a few–”

“And you know I know all the best dealers on this block,” Edward jumps in again. “It would make more sense for me to take her.”

Greed releases me slowly and looks between me and Edward before nodding.

“Aha. I think I see what’s going on here.” He grins again and waves me toward the blonde boy. “Go ahead, Elric. Show her the, uh, dealers. Just make sure you wrap up first.”

I blink at him confused before Edward mutters some profanity under his breath and shoves his gloved fingers through his bangs.

Did I say he was cute? Because he’s not. I’m not sure what happened, but all of the sudden, he turned…hot. Like really hot.

Oh my God. I don’t have time to be thinking about that right now.

Greed saunters off wearing a smirk, and I take a step toward my attractive would-be savior.

At least, I hope.

Edward

Shit. How did I end up here?

Not racing, like I want to be, but instead staring at a perfect blonde princess that Greed basically just told me to go fuck in an alley somewhere.

“What was he talking about?” she asks quietly.

“Huh?”

“What he said just now—Greed. What did he mean?”

I blink at her, and glance away in bewilderment, before looking back.

“What exactly are you referring to?” I return slowly, hoping her question doesn’t mean what I think it meant.

“About you ‘wrapping up first?’ What does that have to do with auto part dealers?”

I press my lips together, and reach up to rub the back of my neck. I mean, did she really not get he was referring to use having sex? Fuck. She really wound up in the wrong place tonight.

“Nothing,” I mutter when I realize she’s still waiting on an answer. “Just, um…ignore that.”

“Oh. Okay.” She nods, not quite meeting my eyes. “So, you were going to show me where to get engine parts?”

“Yeah. Follow me.”

I turn around and start down the sidewalk. I figure I’ll start with Donovan. If he doesn’t have what she needs, he’ll know who does. I pause at the corner of the alley and look over my shoulder, only the princess isn’t there.

“What the hell?” I hiss. “Where did she go?”

Weaving back through the crowd, I find her where I left her, shivering and looking around wildly.

“I told you to follow me,” I growl, grabbing her hand.

“What?” she gasps. “Oh!”

I pull her out of the way of some stumbling drunken assholes, pushing her against the wall and shielding her with my body.

“You okay?”

She licks her lips and looks anywhere but at my face.

“I’m fine,” she whispers finally, and it’s hard to ignore her flushed cheeks. “I didn’t see where you went, and I…”

“Don’t worry about it.”

I step back when they’ve moved off down the sidewalk and start to pull her after me again.

“Hey, Edward?” she calls, practically jogging to keep up with me.

“Yeah?”

“Is your hand, um, automail?”

I freeze mid-step and round on her again. “What of it? Is that a problem for you?”

“No,” she glares, and I’m almost surprised. The princess has more guts than I realized. “I was just curious. You don’t have to be a jerk about it.”

I wince, and then shake my head. I don’t have time to feel sorry for hurting some random girl’s feelings.

“Come on. I thought you needed auto parts.”

Without waiting for her to answer, I grab her hand again and take off. We reach Donovan’s without any more interruptions, but his lights are off, so I stop at the bottom of the stairs and tell her to wait while I go knock.

She nods, and I go up slowly, knocking on the cracked doorframe three times, and waiting. I hear the sound of bolts sliding back, and finally, the door cracks a few millimeters.

“Who is it?” a low voice asks.

“Tell Donovan it’s me,” I answer, leaning on the frame.

“Elric? I thought he told you to piss off. He won’t do business with the Devil’s Nesters anymore.”

“I’m not here for them,” I say quickly before the door shuts. “I have a new buyer looking for engine parts.”

“Name?”

“Rockbell.”

I hear the princess gasp, and I wave at her to shut up.

“Wait here.”

I sigh as the door clicks shut. After a few seconds, I jump over the stairs onto the street, landing in a crouch in front of the girl. She flinches in surprise, and I laugh silently.

“Don’t scare me like that,” she hisses. “What did he say?”

“I’m waiting to see. If Donovan will see you, you’ll probably find what you need.”

“Oh. Good.”

“You said your name was Rockbell?” I turn to her, and she tucks her hair behind her ear.

I instantly notice a string of piercings along the delicate curve. I’m tempted to touch them.

“Yes.” She nods.

“Is there a first name to go with that?”

“Well… I mean…”

“You know mine,” I remind her. “And if you don’t tell me, I’m going to have to keep calling you, ‘princess,’ all night.”

“Winry,” she tells me with a huff. “I’m Winry.”

“See, that wasn’t so hard.”

She opens her mouth to say something I can only expect will be sassy when the door opens and Donovan’s huge frame fills the entry.

“Come in, and make it quick.”

I lead us in, and he locks the door immediately. Winry stares at the five deadbolts and two chains with wide eyes, and I bite my lip. She’s fucking adorable.

“Don’t panic,” I say, as she squeezes my automail tighter. “He’s just paranoid.”

“I think you mean cautious,” Donovan booms as he moves past us to his living room. “Come this way.”

Winry sits close to me on the couch while Donovan takes up residence in a large chair. There’s no sign of whoever I spoke to at the door, but that’s not really a concern right now.

“What is it you need, Miss Rockbell?”

“I’m looking for this.”

She reaches into her jacket and pulls out a detailed design drawn on a thinning piece of graph paper.

Donovan takes it, and I watch his eyes squint with a frown.

“This is…hmm.” He studies the image closer. “What did you say you needed this for again?”

“I didn’t,” Winry answers softly. “But that shouldn’t matter, should it?”

She looks over at me, and I shrug one shoulder. I’m not curious about her reasons, and when I contact dealers for parts, they all know better than to ask me what I need them for. That probably has to do more with my relationship with the Devil’s Nest than my street cred, but either way.

“I suppose not,” he mutters gruffly, still scrutinizing the paper.

Eventually, he sets it down and turns to her. “That piece is very rare. Difficult to track down.”

“I know,” she murmurs. “That’s why I came here.”

“I can get it for you, but it’ll be a few days, and it won’t be cheap.”

“I can pay.”

“Edward, will you be running point on this?” Donovan looks at me before turning to Winry. “Or how should I expect to get it to you when I have it?”

“I, um…”

“I’ll take care of it,” I volunteer. “Just let me know when it’s in, and I’ll handle the exchange.”

“Fine.” The large man stands. “In total, the cost is two hundred. I require half now, and half after Ed delivers the part.”

“Two hundred cens?” her musical voice pipes up, and I shoot a look at Donavan, who is frowning deeply.

“Thousand,” I hiss at her.

“What?” she gasps.

“Two hundred thousand cens,” I clarify, hoping she catches on quickly.

“Right, um, okay.” Winry reaches into her jacket again, looking flustered. “I have… I have, um…”

Her hands are shaking as she pulls out a wrinkled envelope. I reach out and put my hand on hers, fully aware of Donovan’s eagle eyes on us.

“Do you have it?” I whisper, trying not to let her hear the dread in my voice.

Her eyes take on a sheen of tears, and I already know the answer.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

She doesn’t have the money, and Donovan will be pissed we wasted his time. Even more pissed at me because I knew better than to bring in a buyer who couldn’t pay.

Shit.

“Is there a problem?”

“Just give us a second,” I answer without taking my eyes off of her, trying not to let her see my panic. “How much do you need?”

“Thirty thousand,” she ekes out, glancing at Donovan and then back at me. “I get paid tomorrow, and I have the rest at home, I just didn’t know I needed that much at once. I–”

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll cover the difference.”

It’ll suck but it’s way worse than the alternative.

She stares at me like I’ve grown a second head, but before I overthink it, I slide three bills out of my wallet and into her envelope.

“Edward–”

“Here you go.” I grab the envelope out of her frozen fingers and stand, handing it to him.

“Excellent.”

I stand there while he counts it, and then turn to collect Winry as he leads us to the door.

“Thank you for your business, Miss Rockbell.” He shakes her small hand in his large one before turning to me. “Edward, I’ll be in touch.”

“Until then.”

We duck out, and the door closes behind us.

“Now what?” Winry asks as we walk down the steps to the abandoned sidewalk. “Do we go back to the race?”

“No. Now, I go back to the race, and you go home to your castle.”

“I don’t live in a castle–”

“You do in comparison to this shithole,” I interrupt her harshly. “But that’s not even my point. You can’t come down here again. Ever.”

“But…then how am I supposed to get the part I need?”

Not by coming to the Lane.

“I’ll bring it to you.”

Somehow. My baby’s sitting on blocks at the Devil’s Nest garage. That thirty thousand I just gave her was supposed to be the last payment I needed to finish her body work. And since I spent tonight leading Winry around, I didn’t get any racing in, so Greed won’t be inclined to give me a cut of the profits. Usually I can make at least a hundred grand on a night like this. Plus, I told Al I’d go to the grocery store this week. We need bread and milk—milk, ew, I might forgo getting any of that—and I think the toilet paper is running low.

“You have a cell phone?”

“Um, of course.”

“Give me your number.”

She freezes, and I tilt my head at her, waiting.

“You want my number? Why?”

I roll my eyes slightly and then back to her. “So I can text you when your part comes in and we can meet somewhere?”

I watch her eyes close and her face turn pink.

“Right. I’m an idiot.” She shakes her head. “Here, give me your phone, and I’ll put it in.”

“Sorry. Battery’s dead.”

She blinks as if that’s an entirely foreign concept to her, which it probably is.

“Okay, then let me write it down.”

She reaches into her jacket again, and I wait.

“Oh. I forgot. I don’t have a pen or anything.” She meets my eyes again. “Um…”

“Just tell it to me,” I say, trying not to grin. She’s too adorable to be real.

“What?”

“Your number. Just tell me. I’ll remember it.”

“Are you sure? I bet I can, um–”

“You’re not going to find a pen around here if that’s what you were about to say. Seriously, just tell me the number.”

She exhales, and I’m temporarily stunned by the way her lips part.

“Okay then.”

She says it slowly, and then repeats it, giving me time to commit each digit to memory. After, I echo it back to her, just to be sure.

“Yeah. That’s it.”

“Excellent. I’ll text you when I have it.”

“Should you give me your number, so I know it’s you?”

“Will you remember it?”

She rolls her eyes, and I bite my cheek, so I won’t smile at her. Fuck, this girl is dangerous to my reputation. If Greed caught me smiling at a girl, he’d own me for life.

“I have my phone right here.” She pulls it out of her pocket and holds it out to me. “You can just save your number right now.”

I could, but…where’s the fun in that?

“That’s okay.” I wave her off. “Trust me, you’ll know it’s me.”

“For some reason, I don’t doubt that,” she mumbles. “Well, I guess this is goodbye then.”

“Do you know how to get home?”

She holds up her fancy cell phone. “It has GPS, so I think I’ll be okay.”

“Right.” I glance over my shoulder and then back at her. “Listen, go straight home. Don’t follow me back toward the race, and don’t wander around. Walk fast and try to stay in better lit areas if you can. This area isn’t safe, especially for pretty girls on their own.”

God, it’s a miracle she even made it here, now that I think about it. Especially with that huge amount of cash in her purse.

“You think I’m pretty?”

“What?” I frown at her. “No.”

She raises her eyebrows, and my hands clench into fists.

“You’re completely missing my point,” I growl. “This area is dangerous.”

“I can take care of myself.”

She tosses her head, and I feel some of my irritation fade. She is just so damn cute. And that’s the problem.

“Somehow, I don’t doubt that,” I confess gently, “but all the same you need to be careful.”

“I could text you when I get home,” she suggests jokingly, “but you’d have to give me your number for that.”

I’m half-tempted to take her up on it, but the last thing my piece-of-shit phone needs are texts from a girl to kill its crappy battery even faster. Fuck, I need to put a new phone on my list of Shit I Need But Can’t Afford.

“That’s okay. As long as you go straight there you should be fine.” I slide my hands into my jacket pockets and start toward the race.

“Okay. Bye.”

I nod at her over my shoulder just in time to see her turn around and start typing into her phone. I shake my head and take a left down the alley. When I make it back to Dolcetto, I feel a surge of guilt.

What if she gets lost? Or mugged? Or worse.

A sickening feeling spreads through my stomach, and I start to turn back.

“Edward, what happened to your pretty new friend?” I groan internally at Greed’s voice. “Did you two get the part she needed?”

“Yes,” I answer flatly, turning to face him.

“And did you get what you needed?”

“I didn’t fuck her, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Ah, but you wanted to.”

My jaw pops, and I tilt my head back to glare at him. He doesn’t need to know he’s a tiny bit right.

“There’s no point in denying it,” Solaris, or Lust, I guess, since we’re in public, sidles up to him, and slides under his arm. “I could practically smell the desire rolling off of you.”

“Leave her alone,” I snap. “Besides, it’s not like she’s coming back anyway.”

“Ouch.” Greed fakes a wince. “You struck out that bad?”

“Aw, let him be, Greed,” Lust smirks at me, resting her cheek against Greed’s fur collar. “Can’t you see he’s trying to be a gentleman?”

“Elric? A gentleman,” he scoffs with laughter. “Please.”

“Look, you made his face all red,” Lust purrs.

“I’m pretty sure I can find something better to be doing right now,” I mutter, turning away.

“Wait, Elric,” Greed calls me back, and I sigh because as much as I’m ready to get out of here, he’s sort of someone I can’t ignore.

“What now?”

“Tomorrow I expect you to actually race something. As short-fused as you are, you’re the best driver I can put behind a wheel. Tomorrow is the start of winter break for Central U, so I expect more of a turnout than tonight. Don’t miss it.”

I open my mouth to tell him I’m supposed to close tomorrow at the butcher shop where I work part time, but then I shut it. If I tell Sig I need to take off early to go to the grocery store, he’ll probably let me, even though he’ll also probably know I’m lying. Still, it should be fine unless his wife is around. I can never get a lie past her.

But I can’t worry about that right now.

“I’ll be here.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Greed grins. “Now, go home to that brother of yours and get some sleep.”

He turns away, and I feel like I can breathe again. Getting mixed up with the Devil’s Nest was never something I planned on doing, but when you grow up on these streets you don’t have a lot of options. Still, I can hold my own better than most, and generally, I just keep my head down and do what I have to.

Someday, I’ll get out of here, and I’ll take Al with me. Until then, I just have to stay focused.

No distractions.

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dangermannumber6 · 3 years

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Hell For Tomorrow Review

I’ve just finished Hell For Tomorrow by Peter Leslie, the Secret Agent book I showed off in a previous post, so I figured I’d review it. I wasn’t entirely sure what to expect considering it was just a stand-alone book (and not a tie-in). I wasn’t sure how faithful it would be to the show and the characterization of John Drake, but overall, it really didn’t do too bad. I’ll start off with the plot. (This will include spoilers, but I’ll say when the spoilers start, just in case)

From what I understand, this was published originally in the UK (as Danger Man, of course) in 1965, but the US version I have came out a year later. Going by the numbering of the UK books, this one is actually number 3 in the five book series that was published.

Basic plot: British teenagers are being used to sell drugs to other teenagers in France at dirt cheap prices, meaning the dealers aren’t making much, if any, profit. Drake is brought in after two British teens are killed, and their only real connection is a club where the supposed drug deals are taking place. Aside from this club, the only real lead Drake has is a teenage boy who is traveling across France to pick up a new supply.

My thoughts: Overall, it was a good story, worthy of the show I think. There were some slow places, but the action scenes were worth it. In fact, the action sequences are great, especially at the end during the final confrontation. I was easily roped in. Though I felt bad for Drake because he was getting his butt handed to him and then kidnapped altogether. But of course, he comes out on top in the end.

There are times when it gets a bit wordy, but it does make it feel a bit more immersive. It works, for me at least, when it’s very descriptive of what Drake is doing. When it’s about other stuff, particularly during the scene where the police are tailing one of the teens, it was a bit much, and I found myself skimming.

The fight scenes are super detailed and make fight scenes I write seem downright boring. That being said, I appreciate the amount of descriptive words, but it does sometimes feel like too much. But there is variety, so at least it’s not monotonous.

The only characterization “issue” was Drake carrying a gun. I didn’t necessarily have a problem with it, especially when in one scene when he actually fired it, the author seemed to make a point of saying that Drake would have rather not have resorted to using it, but he was left with no other choice. Aside from the two times he used it (and shot someone), he mainly wielded it to threaten. But overall, Drake felt real and not just a character with the same name. There was never a point where I thought, “Drake wouldn’t do this/I can’t see Drake doing this.”

On a personal note, we were robbed of seeing Drake wearing a leather jacket and driving a scooter. And also of him swimming in red swimming trunks. It’s a shame really…

There were some funny moments that made me chuckle, so it wasn’t serious all the time. I particularly liked the interactions between Drake and the French police. I was worried they’d be throwaway characters that I wouldn’t care about, but I was always happy when they showed up.

The dialogue was cheesy in some places, but I honestly think that was the whole point. I point this out because I read a review on Goodreads that was complaining about that, but I really didn’t see the problem. I think it was cheesy on purpose to make it sound like an adult trying to use the slang of the day to try to talk to the teenagers.

(SPOILERS FOR THE END)

The plot was very detailed and, while predictable in some places, I didn’t see the full extent of the ending until Drake fully laid it out. As it turns out, the drug ring used teenagers to get them hooked and dependent on this one Englishman’s supply. He had started a political movement that wasn’t out in the public yet, but they used it as a front for getting large crowds of teens. They had a band, The Vultures, in on it. The teens would go to a concert or rally, listen to the concert, then when they went to get autographs, the band would slip them a card that could later be exchanged for the drugs. Only those who were exclusive members could get them. The endgame was to get as many teens as they could hooked, and when they reached the legal age to vote, the party would officially step into the spotlight and have a huge base thanks to the dependent teens.

So, out of 10, I’d give this a 7/10, mostly due to the sheer wordiness that, while not bad writing, just seemed a bit unnecessary. But I liked it and would probably read again in the future.

#secret agent #book #patrick mcgoohan #john drake #danger man #review

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rkevent · 4 years

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IT’S TIME TO SPEAK UP!

The announcement of Samsung’s new project has been spread to the public, and everybody is invited to participate in its grand start event!

On the weekend of May 29th to May 31st, anyone interested in the arts is invited to the project opening event location for a guaranteed educational and fun time. Experts and celebrities have donated their time to offer classes and lectures on important aspects of the arts and entertainment world. To help the Speak Up! Project prosper, the entry fees will be clothes and toys that are in good state but that you do not need anymore. You must donate a different thing each day to attend the event.

Starting at noon on the 29th, people will be free to roam around the area and visit the different stalls while they wait for their classes to start. The different stalls offer delicious foods from local businesses, as well as content from smaller artists who’ll sell their pieces for a fair price. Not only does Samsung wish to help those in need, but the event will help spread the word of aspiring artists who still haven’t managed to find their place under the spotlight.

Anyone who wishes to attend classes other than just appreciate the free-to-roam event area must sign-up beforehand on the official Speak Up! Project website. All information on the different lessons and the singing-up option will be available IC starting on May 3rd.

For each day, a different and very diverse roster of activities will be available for you to participate in. This also means that some classes will have times that overlap. You cannot attend more than one class at the same time. A list of every class available can be seen below the cut and, for easier visuals to some, they have also all been organized on this spreadsheet.

If you’d like to participate in this event, you’ll have to submit a sign-up form to the rkevent inbox telling which activities your muse will partake on. The form is only a base, and you may edit it to fit more activities or less, depending on your preference. Your muse does not need to go to the event every single day. A list will can be found here with the names of which muse will be attending which class, so there is no need to post this form to your blog. There is no deadline to submit this form, and any new muses accepted through the duration of this event may join.

TITLE: MUSE FULL NAME

MAY 29TH:

ACTIVITY 1 - (name of the activity) ACTIVITY 2 - (name of the activity) ACTIVITY N - (name of the activity)

MAY 30TH:

ACTIVITY 1 - (name of the activity) ACTIVITY 2 - (name of the activity) ACTIVITY N - (name of the activity)

MAY 31ST:

ACTIVITY 1 - (name of the activity) ACTIVITY 2 - (name of the activity) ACTIVITY N - (name of the activity)

To be awarded points, each class will have rewards of their own, as they’ll be listed below the cut. To collect each of those rewards, you must write two 250+ words solo or two four-post threads with someone taking the same workshop as your muse (or one of each) per day.

This means you’ll have to complete two requirements (a solo or a thread) per day your muse will attend the event. If they’ll only take classes on May 29th, then you only need to write two requirements. If they’ll attend all three days, then they need to write six requirements. For each one day requirement that is completed, you may also award your muse with 1WK of a relevant achievement.

Please tag all related posts as #rkspeakup and have them up before midnight EST at the end of June 10th.

In order to verify your points, you’ll have to send a copy of the form below to the points verification blog. Simply copy the entire form, attach your solo/thread links to the X next to each activity, and submit it to the submission box. Make sure to erase anything that doesn’t apply to your muse, and to title your submission accordingly! Forms can only be submitted after the activity check on June 17th.

[ MUSE’S FULL NAME ] - SPEAK UP! VERIFICATION FORM

MAY 29TH

PROOF OF ACTIVITY [ X + X ]

+? POINTS IN [SKILL]

+1WK IN [RELEVANT ACHIEVEMENT] (NUMBER OF TIMES TAKEN + CURRENT LEVEL)

MAY 30TH

PROOF OF ACTIVITY [ X + X ]

+? POINTS IN [SKILL]

+1WK IN [RELEVANT ACHIEVEMENT] (NUMBER OF TIMES TAKEN + CURRENT LEVEL)

MAY 31ST

PROOF OF ACTIVITY [ X + X ]

+? POINTS IN [SKILL]

+1WK IN [RELEVANT ACHIEVEMENT] (NUMBER OF TIMES TAKEN + CURRENT LEVEL)

TEACHING IDOLS: All of those whose class was accepted will be awarded an extra +3 POINTS ON THE CLASS’S SKILL, +3 DEBUT POINTS, and +1WK RELEVANT ACHIEVEMENT. To collect these rewards, you must write one 300+ words solo or one four-post thread with someone taking the workshop. Please tag all related posts as #rkspeakup and have them up before midnight EST at the end of June 3rd.

Forms can only be submitted after the activity check on June 10th.

[ MUSE’S FULL NAME ] - SPEAK UP! CLASS INSTRUCTOR FORM

PROOF OF ACTIVITY [ X ]

+3 POINTS IN [SKILL]

+3 DEBUT POINTS

+1WK IN [RELEVANT ACHIEVEMENT] (NUMBER OF TIMES TAKEN + CURRENT LEVEL)

NEW DEBUT POINTS TOTAL:

MAY 29TH

1.1 OPENING SPEECH

12-12:30PM — A representative of the Speak Up! Project will thank all the people present for their donations and give a rundown of how the project will work starting from today. She’ll also thank all the professionals who donated their time to be there and will explain the start event simply.

REWARDS: +2 TO DISTRIBUTE AS YOU WISH

1.2 SINGING FOR BEGINNERS

1-2PM — Gyeoul from AND*ROMA has already shown her singing teacher skills before, and will now offer a beginner-level class. Those attending will learn the basics of singing and get tips from those with more experience. The end of the class is a fun noraebang session.

REWARDS: +2 SINGING

1.3 BALLET CLASS

1-3PM — Reno from DE:CODE will give a brief description on the genre of ballet, show examples of professional ballerinas and ballerinos, the different types and methods, and then go into practicing and demonstrating some of the moves and techniques, allowing the audience to follow the instructions along with him.

REWARDS: +4 DANCING

1.4 AEGYO 101

2-3PM — Learn how to make people either cringe so hard they want to punch you or make people do what you want: learn how to unlock your inner adorable squeaky sounding monster and use your newfound talents in variety or to piss off your friends. Chojin from K.ARMA is a master and will teach you all the secrets by herself.

REWARDS: +2 CHARISMA

1.5 AN INTRODUCTION TO VOICE ACTING

2-4PM — The first half of the workshop will be lecture-like, with an instructor showing a simple story of voice acting, how it can impact a project, and good/bad examples of it. On the second half, everybody will get to try it out and receive pointers on how they can improve.

REWARDS: +4 CHARISMA

1.6 BODY PERCUSSION

3-5PM — Junju from PER_SE will show how to make music, but using only your body as an instrument. Body percussion may be performed on your own or in groups. He’ll show how you can make music together with your friends, and how it’ll sound when you bring different sounds together.

REWARDS: +4 DANCING OR CREATIVITY

1.7 HOW TO IMPROVISE

4-5PM — An instructor will give a one-hour lecture on how they mastered the art of improvisation. He started with small roles as an actor and points out how important improvising can be even if you don’t have that many lines in a piece.

REWARDS: +2 CHARISMA

1.8 FREESTYLE HIP-HOP DANCE WORKSHOP

4-6PM — The workshop will be focusing on creativity, flexibility, and execution under time pressure. Sehun from CONVEX will give the first moves of a choreography and the attendees will have to come up with the rest of it by themselves separated into groups.

REWARDS: +4 DANCING OR CREATIVITY

1.9 GUITAR FOR BEGINNERS

5-6PM — To teach you the basics behind playing the acoustic guitar, Haseul from ECLIPSE will be your teacher. She’ll give a simple run-down on learning how to get started and how to deal with frustration while practicing.

REWARDS: +2 CREATIVITY

MAY 30TH

2.1 DRINKS FOR VOCAL CORDS UPKEEP WORKSHOP

12-1PM — A nutritionist, Dr. Kim Yeonhee, will show what are the best drinks you can have to ensure your vocal cords stay healthy and prepared for the next time you wish to sing. She’ll show the scientifics behind her choices and also teach easy drinks to prepare at home.

REWARDS: +2 SINGING OR +2 CREATIVITY

2.2 BEATBOXING FOR BEGINNERS

1-2PM — While beatboxing can look challenging or look like nothing at all hidden by a mouth-covering hand, starting on this skill is as hard as starting any other. An instructor will go through basic beats anyone can do and, if anyone shows promise, maybe even a few more challenging ones for attendees to try.

REWARDS: +2 RAPPING

2.3 SKINCARE AND MAKEUP WORKSHOP

1-3PM — from her current skincare routine to her favorites regimens, Cheri from LUXE will reveal all! Includes samples of an old endorsement sponsor ( Mamonde ) that she kept and will hand out and how to keep your skin looking nice while getting less than 5 hours of sleep.

REWARDS: +4 CREATIVITY

2.4 POSING FOR PICTORIALS

2-3PM — Idols have pictures of them taken all the time by fans, media outlets, and actual photographers, and they often have to be part of photoshoots for magazines and album jackets so it’s important to feel comfortable and know how to carry yourself. In this workshop, Doyeon from the girl group K.ARMA will use her experience with modeling to teach them some posing techniques and angles for photo editorials. A small photo session will happen to help them improve their skills in front of the camera.

REWARDS: +2 CHARISMA

2.5 FILMING TECHNIQUES & TOPIC BRAINSTORM

3-4PM — Kaeun from girl group AND*ROMA was a beauty and lifestyle influencer before becoming an idol, so she’d like to share some ideas on filming, thinking of topics, how to curate content for videos, and also a little hands-on filming with simple set up. Those attending should bring their own camera and tripod.

REWARDS: +2 CHARISMA OR +2 CREATIVITY

2.6 THE BASICS OF CREATIVE WRITING

3-5PM — An instructor will help all those present with tips and examples on how to get your creative juices working and then use those to create written stories. These tips include proper writing help as well as ways to avoid procrastination and making good use of your productive time.

REWARDS: +4 CREATIVITY

2.7 INSTAGRAM WORKSHOP

4-5PM — This workshop is to teach people how to take their best Instagram pictures! Anna from ECLIPSE will show how to spot backgrounds for pictures and good picture composition, the best angles for pictures, as well as editing and choosing a theme for your Instagram.

REWARDS: +2 CHARISMA OR +2 CREATIVITY

2.8 SONGWRITING WORKSHOP

4-6PM — Jinwook from CONVEX will host a songwriting workshop. He’ll prepare part of a simple song, and talk about his composing process and experiences. The group is encouraged to provide ideas as Jinwook talks through writing the first verse. Then the workshop will break into small groups to “finish” the song however they see fit, by adding lyrics and a chorus section. Jinwook will be ready with a few complete ideas in case people get stuck!

REWARDS: +4 CREATIVITY

2.9 HOW TO JUGGLE SCHOOL WORK AND CHASING AFTER YOUR DREAMS

5-6PM — Sinjae from DE:CODE got a good school record, and does well academically. He’ll talk about sacrifices he had to make along the way and give tips on how to fulfill your dreams without letting go of your studies, as well as sharing personal stories he had to go through himself.

REWARDS: +2 CHARISMA OR +2 CREATIVITY

MAY 31ST

3.1 YOGA

12-1PM — This workshop would be focusing on yoga, relaxation, and meditation. Jennie from girl group ECLIPSE can do some pretty amazing things with her body, even a split! From showing proper ways to stretch the body and keep it fit, she’ll show some basic yoga poses that help unwind especially after a hard day or to start well and relaxed into the morning. it will include all her favorite beginner poses that are easy to remember and do alone at home! And as a finish, she’ll show a quick but efficient meditation afterward.

REWARDS: +2 DANCING

3.2 THREE PILLARS OF RAP

12-2PM — An instructor will give a rundown on the three pillars of rap: flow, delivery and lyrical content. It’ll start as a talk about what each thing means and entails, and will then turn into a full workshop. Any aspiring rappers should make sure they know everything that is said.

REWARDS: +4 RAPPING

3.3 INTRODUCTION TO FASHION DESIGN

1-2PM — As a fashion major, Zoe from girl group LUXE has some experience with designing outfits. For this workshop/lesson, Zoe will be giving an intro on what fashion design entails to complete beginners, understanding fabrics, drawing a fashion sketch, breakdown of LUXE’s fashion, and have a talk with them about fashion, designing and any questions the students have.

REWARDS: +2 CREATIVITY

3.4 CONTEMPORARY HIP-HOP CLASS

1-3PM — For the first half of the class, Kil from girl group K.ARMA will explain the intricacies of contemporary hip-hop and how different it is from other dance genres. She will talk about getting in touch with emotions and understanding the piece you will be performing first before you dance to it. Afterward, she will teach a self-made choreography.

REWARDS: +4 DANCING

3.5 DON’T BE A ONE-TRICK PONY: A LECTURE

2-3PM — Darae from girl group AND*ROMA will give a class discussing how while it is essential to be good in one skill, it is beneficial to master another. How sometimes leaning into a main skill can be more of a weakness than an advantage at times if you lean on it too much. Also discussing what are some unique secondary skills that aren’t tied to main stage performances but can also benefit for variety.

REWARDS: +2 CHARISMA OR CREATIVITY

3.6 HOSTING WORKSHOP

3-4PM — To give tips on any who want to try to enter MCing or hosting, whether it be for the small screen, radio, or events. It can also help to improve confidence in public speaking/diction as a daily skill. Hyun from CONVEX will cover voice projection, professionalism, personal presentation, and different energies for different kinds of events. He’ll give activities for participants to do to help with learning.

REWARDS: +2 CHARISMA

3.7 AERIAL SILK CLASS

2-4PM — A few members of a circus will teach the secrets behind aerial silk acrobatics. Attendees will learn the basics of climbing and maintaining control of oneself while up in the air, as well as some simple yet impressive poses for you to post on Instagram.

REWARDS: +4 DANCING

3.8 PIANO FOR BEGINNERS

3-5PM — For those who never played the piano, or only got the chance a few times in their life. An instructor will give you the run-down of the basics you should know and teach you an easy song to impress whenever you go somewhere that has a piano.

REWARDS: +4 CREATIVITY

3.9 SELF-DEFENSE

4-6PM — It’s a class about learning some basic self-defense moves; because it’s always good to be able to defend yourself in any kind of situation! B.Mil from boy group DE:CODE has practiced hapkido since childhood and he can demonstrate some techniques and practice them with those who are part of the workshop.

REWARDS: +4 DANCING

#rkspeakup

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jamiebluewind · 4 years

Text

Fantasy High Characters 2.7

As always, let me know if I need to edit or add anything and tag/ask/PM me about art and stories so I can check them out!

*****

New Characters!

Rolands

Ancient hunched over pirate with long gray beard, thick sash, long rings on spindly fingers, tri-corner hat, and a holster at his side with a spellbook chained and buckled.

Wizard and a whisper of a man who works the desk at the Compass Points Library

The massive tome at his side has a jolly rodger on it and says "Here be pirate spells" scrawled in red ink.

The spells within his book can only be conjured by the most powerful pirate wizards (including turning 5 parrots into a banana and 10 bananas into a gold coin). Has eaten two parrot and eight bananas made from parrots.

Turned Fig into a horned parrot and states that he commands the 7 winds and the 9 stars, learned the secrets of the deep, can summon the ancient krakens of seas long gone, that spirits of wind and wave will answer his call, but reduced to bones if you take his book.

Has to be put back together by Ayda more than once as taking his book and immediately returing it doesn't automatically put him back together the right way.

Ayda Augefort

Mistress of the Library, Quartermaster of the Knowledge of Leviathan, and head librarian at Compass Points Library.

Divination Wizard

She is a 6 to 7 foot tall resplendently beautiful half phoenix woman with a strinking resemblance to Arthur Augefort (how!?).

She has 2 foot long yellow talons (that are almost metallic gold) from the knees down and digitigrade ankles, wings that start at deep red and change into orange as you approach the edge and eventually yellow that flicker like flame at the edge of the wing, human arms covered in orange rune tattoos, a short ploom-like shock of short red hair and eyes with pupils, but are otherwise roiling balls of flame

Dressed in white linen pants with a pirate's sash on them, a vest (no color given), 2 scrolls in her bandolier, and a leather harnesses that would normally have guns, but carry 2 small books strapped under each arm.

Naps on a perch with her wings wrapped around her.

"Yes, when it comes around, my mother is a full phoenix She's an adult most of the time and becomes a kid every so often. It's complicated. If you're weirded out by it, join the club."

Always scribbling notes in her book and asking questions. Socially awkward, curious, paranoid, very honest, and takes most things literally. Fast jerky head movements and squawks at the end of her laugh.

Admits that her father lies often. Found it unlikely that he would ever speak of her, but found it moving. Told them to tell her father whatever they want as it was no concern of hers.

Sells the party a modified sending spell for pirates where curse words and swears don't count against the 25 word limit and willing to sell other wizard spells to them for 50 gold per level.

Finds the group bothersome but is transfixed by their strangeness.

Thinks Gorgug could be the greatest wizard of this age due to being a clean slate unburden by study. She forbids him from ever reading a single word of wizardry to keep his mind like the serene lake unburdened by study. Says that Gorgug is beautiful to her.

Thinks Adaine is the other greatest wizard of their age. Desperately wants a friend and bonds with Adaine. Showed emotion when Adaine handed her Boggy. Her eyes went wide and she showed excitement at the idea of him having a backpack.

Elves from Fallinel: 3 beautiful elves in long flowing robes surrounded by motes of silvery white light. At least 1 has a will-o'-wisp in their ear that is used to communicate.

*****

Changes To Existing Characters!

Boggy: Got a backpack

Fabian: no letter jacket, very sick, and very shaken, but at the end of the episode he has his sword and eyepatch back.

Cathilda: full outfit change and is now wearing seven league boots, black dress with a high white collar (like a widow in mourning), and black tri-corner hat (WE NEED NEW OFFICIAL ART!). May or may not have gotten her shoulder length hair dip dyed for an ombre effect.

*****

#fantasy high #dimension 20 #fantasy high live #ayda augefort #d20 character descriptions #cathilda ceili #d20 descriptions #writer source #artist source #descriptions

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blog-basit-blr · 4 years

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20 tips to import and export effectively

Whether you are thinking of converting your company into an importer or exporter or if you have already done so, take note of 20 tips taken from interviews with experts and companies. Each one of them is a piece that makes up the foreign trade puzzle.

1. How do I know my company is ready to export or import?

We are going to answer you in Galician. Does your company have a bilingual receptionist? Can your production chain respond to high demand peaks? Do you have a sales team capable of facing the new challenge (travel, irregular schedules ...? Do you have the financial capacity to make the leap abroad?

Do you have a competitive product or service? As an importer, are you looking for lasting agreements? But more important than This self-assessment is your commitment (as manager, owner or majority partner) with the decision to internationalize the company, an obsession that you must spread to the rest of the departments and staff. And this is true whether you decide to export or import products and services.

That said, the consultant Carlos Nunes highlights the creation of an import / export department (outsourced or not), “that reports directly to the management, made up of people specialized in international trade, with knowledge of languages, skills to negotiate in different markets ”.

2. Alone or in company?

In foreign trade there are three phases that determine the consolidation of the business project in the destination market. The first is commercial sales operations abroad. For this, it is enough with a commercial intermediary who collects the merchandise in port and markets it.

The second is the cooperation with a local partner who takes care of the whole process? (We include consortia and joint venture here). The third is productive implementation, "a decision that few Spanish SMEs make," says expert Emilio Carmona.

Although there are brave exceptions, if it is emerging markets or developing countries, the recommendation is to start the foreign adventure accompanied. The work of a local partner will pave the way for you and avoid surprises. With a distributor or commercial agent you save the logistics structure, offices, personnel and transport. Remember that at the beginning assessing the costs is a priority.

3. Include in your agenda the visit to fairs

Whether as an exhibitor or as a visitor, they will allow you to know market conditions and make contacts with possible partners and suppliers. Yes. Choose well. Focus on the sectoral and professional ones.It is a job that requires a lot of dedication at the beginning. You have to do what the expert José María Cantatero, partner of Biodis (food supplements and vitamins), calls Meteor Shower in reference to the television program. “On occasion, we have been to two fairs in a row.

After dismantling the stand of the first, we have changed in the bathrooms of the airport on duty our jacket suits for comfortable clothes, to fly that night to another country, and start again the next day with the assembly of the stand of the second fair ", remember. Biodis exports to about 20 countries. To the visit of the fairs you should add prospecting trips, trade missions, organized by the ICEX and Chambers of Commerce.

4. What documentation is necessary?

Familiarize yourself with the following terms. They are part of the fundamental documentation in foreign operations.

Commercial documents. It includes the commercial invoice, pro forma invoice, certificate of origin (processed by the Chambers of Commerce) and list of contents or parking list (description of the merchandise).

Customs . They are the ATA and CPD Notebooks (they allow you to temporarily send goods to 75 countries); Single Administrative Document (DUA), processed by the Tax Agency; Intrastat (periodic declaration).

Of transport . We talk about the consignment note by road, rail, sea and air.

Certificates . Includes insurance, health certificates, etc.

Customs formalities. You will have to formalize the Registration in the Exporters Registry (form 036) and the VAT.

5. Don't get caught or how to choose a partner

The correct choice of a partner or supplier is a key factor in the process that you have started. Trade shows are an excellent showcase for getting in touch with them, but be wary of those who want to close a deal on site. Before signing anything, look for information from that potential partner or supplier: company size, production, talks with companies that have worked with him, his financial solvency (in the case of a partner) and meeting deadlines (supplier).

Once the decision has been made, “it is essential that a relationship of trust and knowledge be created, both mutual and of the product or service offered and the market. For the association to strengthen the company, making it more competitive, it is essential that the chosen partner has a good network of contacts and the ability to expand it, as well as financial stability ”, advises expert Jesús Sáinz.

6. The dilemma of means of payment

Which to choose? The choice depends on the country, volume and trust with the client. For occasional and low volume orders, better the bank transfer or money order ; It can be simple or documentary, depending on whether or not the beneficiary requires the presentation of a supporting document.

The expenses derived from bank commissions are assumed by each party. If you have full confidence in your client, do not hesitate, the international bank check is the simplest, cheapest and most secure means of collection. Other more complex means used in operations of a certain depth are remittance and documentary credit. The remittance can be simple simple or documentary.

In the first, if you are the exporter, you will deliver the bill or promissory note to your client's bank so that it can proceed to manage its collection within the agreed period. The second allows you to maintain documentary control of the merchandise, since the bank will not deliver the commercial documentation to the client until the importer accepts the bill.

In cases where the experience with the buyer is not good, ICEX recommends liquidating operations through documentary means of payment, “and when negotiating with importers the documents that must be presented, do not accept the requirement of documents that are very expensive or very difficult to obtain.

You also have to be very rigorous in the correct issuance of documents and in meeting the deadlines for their presentation. To ensure payment,Export credit insurance , factoring (the exporting company assigns the invoices to a financial entity to manage their collection) and forfaiting (the exporter sells a payment document to a financial entity).

7. The importance of local customs and customs

There are not a few negotiations that have been ruined by not taking this aspect into account. Don't be the elephant that walks into the china shop! In Protocol in the international relations of the company and of the businesses, the consultant Carmen Cuadrado evidences the importance of knowing the local culture with this funny anecdote: “On one occasion, a European couple who were traveling with their puppy through an Asian country decided enter to eat at a typical restaurant in the area.

They left the animal in custody and sat down to wait for the letter to be brought to them. But what would be her surprise when the waiter appeared with a succulent roast of meat and deposited it, smiling, in front of both diners. Its content? They were in a restaurant where it was customary for customers to come with their pet to be COOKED! ”.

Here we describe a single-window platform for trade to make little noise in the face to face with three interlocutors (Japanese, Chinese and Arabic) with protocols diametrically opposed to the western ones. In the case of the Japanese , choose discreet clothes, discard jewelry and be punctual to the meeting; if when greeting you he chooses a Japanese bow, repeat it; take an interest in their culture; prepare your stomach for lunch and dinner ... and do not rule out ending up singing karaoke. With this busy social schedule, you will not close any agreement, but you will establish personal ties that will allow you to do it later.

In the case of a Chinese interlocutor, never look at him for a long time, point your finger at him or cross your legs (it will be understood as rude). By the way, you will earn points if your business card is translated into their language. And in personal relationships, memorize the following expression: 'guanxi'.

It is the barometer that measures the quantity and quality of personal contacts. Yes. To strengthen it, a relationship of mutual trust must be built, which includes meals, visits and corporate gifts. And if your interlocutor is Arabs, do not be surprised that the handshake lasts longer than usual. It is their custom. When it comes to dressing, choose suits in dark tones and if you are a woman, you will have to adapt your clothing to the country you visit. For example, in Iran, Iraq and Saudi Arabiacover your arms, neck, and legs.

In all cases, makeup and jewelry, in its proper measure. Do not cross your legs or give your left hand to an Arab (it is impure). Be punctual to appointments even when your interlocutor is not.

8. How can I protect my brand in international trade?

There are two ways to protect your invention. The PCT system or international application , with which through a single document you request protection of your invention in a total of 128 countries.

The other way is the European patent application , in which you designate those States in which you want the protection of your invention. The European patent application is processed by the European Office, but it can be delivered to the Spanish Patent and Trademark Office ( www.oepm.es ). You can present it in any of the official languages of the EU (English, French and German).

9. I need to translate the manual of my product, the patent, packaging

You have several options: hire the services of a translation agency (physical or Internet) or go to freelance translators. The rates vary according to the type of translation (technical or not), the combination of languages (the most expensive is Spanish-Chinese and Spanish-Arabic), the number of characters / documents to be translated and the urgency.

To give you an idea, the rate from Spanish to English or French is around 0.075 euros per word. Many translators, and especially agencies, will ask you for a minimum order (a document of no less than 300 words). In the cases of technical translations (patents, contracts and operating manuals ...), the translator will also request a glossary of specific terms for your business activity. For accounting purposes, translations are exempt from paying VAT. Do not forget to ask for several estimates, contract them, and remember that quality, as in everything, pays more.

10. By land, sea and air: logistics and transport aspects.

In import / export it is essential to understand how international transport and logistics aspects work. It is the highest investment item. There are three ways to send your merchandise to the destination market: transport by road, ship and plane. Each medium has associated costs that make it unique and perfect for the type of shipment.

If it is a question of perishable products, do not hesitate: yours is the plane. The train is the best alternative for a direct and safe service of large volumes. It has two modes: combined transport (train + road) and full loads from origin to destination (for solid or liquid bulks, special products ...). The agents involved are the intermodal operator and Renfe. Road transport is the choice for intra-European destinations and small and medium volumes of goods. Its competitive asset is door-to-door shipping.

For large volumes and distant destinations, the most economical option is maritime transport. The cargo goes in containers and the payment is called freight. In the event that you do not fill a container, you can make groupage and share the freight expenses with other exporters in the same situation. The agents involved are the shipping company, the freight forwarder, the consignee and the stevedoring company.

Finally, point out thatIn international trade, the delivery conditions of the merchandise are defined through codes or Incoterms. In general, they determine the place and the form of delivery of the merchandise; the distribution between exporter and importer of the expenses related to the operations of transport, loading and unloading of the merchandise, insurance and customs, etc .; the transfer of risks and responsibilities for loss or damage of the merchandise from the exporter to the importer; the documents, procedures and administrative procedures (obtaining licenses, certificates, transport documents) that are the responsibility of the exporter.

#single window solution #IT #International Trading

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jamgrlsblog · 5 years

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Swiss Chocolates!

Crowley arrives on the day of Aziraphale's bookshop opening to finally deliver the chocolates he had meant to give him a few days previously. Aziraphale is unable to comprehend his feelings about this event. --- "Aziraphale didn’t know why he was nervous. Is that what he was? Something about Crowley being here, here. It was rather different than running into each other by accident or meeting for a specific arrangement related discussion."

Notes:

This is a follow up to the deleted scene in which Crowley shows up to Aziraphale's brand new bookshop with chocolates in 1800.

AO3

Today was the day. The day of the bookshop opening. The day that had very narrowly managed to arrive.

The bookshop was as orderly as it could be, Aziraphale’s many tomes delicately arranged on the shelves, very carefully written opening hours in the window, and somewhere in a corner, a medal haphazardly shoved into a drawer that wouldn’t manage to close properly.

Aziraphale adjusted and fiddled with his ascot nervously as he stood at the front entrance of the shop. He gingerly turned the lock on the door and, letting out a heavy breath, turned the open sign forward for the first time. Aziraphale remained there frozen, waiting for something to happen.

Through the window, he could see a thin stream of Londoners strolling by, no one paying particular mind to the shop. It was a glorious sunny day and it was just after lunch, so surely many people would be taking the opportunity to enjoy some exercise and the streets would be quite bustling soon.

Aziraphale didn’t really know what to do with himself, but once his initial shock of having officially opened had worn off, he realized that blocking the entrance probably wasn’t in his best interest, lest he be walked into by his first customer. So instead, he took to pacing about, pausing in different locations in the shop, testing them as possible places to stand in a dignified manner.

Later, as the blazing afternoon heat was being replaced by the whisper of dusk breezes, Aziraphale found himself busied by rearranging his books and wondering whether he should reconsider his categorizations.

The bell of his shop door had only rung twice in the day since he had turned the open sign forward. The first time, the door was swung open by two young ladies, surely not one and twenty, who had burst through the door giggling, only to turn towards the window, just hiding behind a bookshelf, as two very young regimental men strolled by. As soon as the men were out of sight, the ladies were out the door again as quickly as they came, in a fit of giggles once more. An hour or so later, it was a smartly dressed young man who removed his top hat and politely nodded at Aziraphale, only to take a single turn about the room, stopping just barely at a few book stands, and finally giving Aziraphale an appraising look before nodding curtly and strolling back out.

Aziraphale sighed as he thought back to the visits. He supposed it was for the best that Londoners didn’t seem interested in his books. He didn’t really want to sell them, anyways. His amassed collection had just been becoming unmanageable.

Feeling like his book rearrangement was as complete as it could be for the moment, Aziraphale stopped to smooth his coat jacket and smile approvingly at the shelf before him. With that, he swiveled to face the bookshop entrance with the intention of returning to the door to switch the sign to closed. What he saw, however, stopped him in his tracks, his breath caught in his throat.

It was Crowley, waving at the store window, the same package in hand he had had a few days previously. He had never managed to come into the shop that day, with Gabriel and Sandalphon’s unexpected visit. Aziraphale had forgotten Crowley had stopped by, his own mind first preoccupied with the prospect of being unmercifully torn from his station just as he was settling into his new shop and then baffled but relieved when the two angels had returned only to tell him he would be staying after all.

Crowley, who had swung by with chocolates. Here to celebrate the shop opening? They had had many rendezvous in their nearly 6000 years on Earth, but Crowley coming here? To Aziraphale’s shop? For some reason, unknown to the angel, it made his heart pound.

Now Crowley was pushing through the front door, removing his top hat but leaving his sunglasses in place. “Exciting opening day?” he asked.

“Rather uneventful, actually,” Aziraphale managed to say, still planted firmly in the same spot. Crowley strolled to a bookshelf to examine its contents.

“More eventful than a day at head office, though, I suppose?”

“Oh, yes!” His tongue was loosened thinking of the angelic visit. “Even an uneventful day in London has more of interest than that. I don’t know what changed their minds but thank heavens for whatever it was.”

“Heaven had nothing to do with it.” Crowley flipped his head around, pushing his sunglasses down his nose just long enough to give Aziraphale a wink.

“What? You-?”

“I only happened to be practicing my acting outside of a certain tailor’s shop. Working on my Hastur impression. I performed a nice back and forth on what a boon for Hell losing such a worthy adversary would be,” Crowley said, mirroring Aziraphale’s description of Crowley to the angels. “I was rather good. D’you think I could go for Hamlet?”

Aziraphale hadn’t paid mind to that last part. A smile had widened on his face. Oh, he was a wily serpent. “That was very kind of you.”

“On the contrary, Angel. It was exceedingly selfish of me. Giving up the Arrangement? Having to actually work?” He made a face of disgust. “Couldn’t let that happen. I don’t think Micheal would be quite as- what would you say, flexible?”

Flexible. There was something about that word that felt almost dirty.

Aziraphale huffed. He didn’t enjoy being reminded that he was aiding a demon, but he did admit that the Arrangement was rather convenient and did allow him more time for his books. And for himself and his own amusements. He really did enjoy Earth’s pleasures, and, well, perhaps some of the company was nice as well.

“Never did get to give you these,” Crowley said, holding up the package still in his hand. “Happened to be in Switzerland and thought you might like them.” He tossed the package at Aziraphale. Surprised, Aziraphale just barely caught it. Swiss chocolates. Aziraphale stared at the package, wide eyed. “What do you say we give them a try?”

“Oh! Oh, yes of course! Tea? I’ll put on the kettle. Would you be a dear and turn the sign to closed? I’ll just be in this back room—“ Aziraphale hurried off to the back room. Once done fumbling with the kettle over the fireplace, he paused to take a few deep breaths and collect himself.

Aziraphale didn’t know why he was nervous. Is that what he was? Something about Crowley being here, here. It was rather different than running into each other by accident or meeting for a specific arrangement related discussion.

Of course, even those meetings often became social. There were very few people with whom Aziraphale could feel truly comfortable. And Crowley... well.

He was an enigma, really. A demon, of course, stirring up trouble. But also secretly kind. And his questioning, well, it did make sense, often. He challenged Aziraphale’s notions in the best ways possible. You can’t have the light without the dark, is not that right? Aziraphale mused quietly, letting a smile creep onto his face.

Aziraphale had been in the back room for a while now and realized suddenly that he had left his guest alone for quite some time. He had half expected him to follow him, Crowley wasn’t necessarily the most polite. What could you expect from a demon, really? But he hadn’t followed.

Aziraphale peaked through the back room door to the main shop to check on him. Crowley was now in the Shakespeare section, closely examining the volumes. Aziraphale wondered if he was thinking of the original productions. The times they had seen Hamlet- once nearly alone and once with a roaring crowd that one could barely move in. Those memories were truly a treasure. Aziraphale couldn’t help but to smile again at the fond memory.

Snapping himself out of it, Aziraphale cleared his throat. “You can join me back here,” he said, a tad shyly. At this, Crowley swiveled, a dazzling smile on his face as he casually approached, brushing past Aziraphale as he made his way into the room. As the demon surveyed the space, Aziraphale became painfully aware that there was only one armchair and a decidedly less cozy desk chair in the small room. “Oh! I’m afraid I don’t have much in the way of sitting room—“ Crowley snapped his fingers and a couch that matched the armchair appeared in the room, just managing to fit in the cramped space. Aziraphale looked at Crowley disapprovingly. “Where did that come from?”

“Oh, don’t worry! The shop owner will wake to some very nice compensation in its place,” Crowley said, waving his hat in the air and flopping onto the newly appeared couch, letting the hat fall from his hand and to the floor. Appeased, Aziraphale moved to sit in the armchair before stopping in his tracks, remembering the kettle and bustling to the back pantry to fetch teacups and make them each a cup. He was really forgetting himself. What a terrible host he was being.

He returned to the living area with the two cups and the box of chocolates under his arm, handing one of the cups to Crowley, which was received graciously (Crowley was sitting up now) and finally settling down in his armchair. Holding his teacup in one hand, Aziraphale carefully removed the chocolate package from under his arm and began to gently untie the red ribbon surrounding it with his free hand. When he managed to get the box open, he saw a dozen beautifully crafted chocolates with elegant little designs on them.

“Oh, Crowley! These are- these are lovely!” The sight of the chocolates filled Aziraphale to the brim with such a warm affection for his friend (yes, yes, friend was right) that he could even feel his eyes beginning to water. He blinked a few times to keep his eyes from spilling over and, gaining his composure, he delicately picked up a chocolate and placed it to his lips, closing his eyes to savor it. The chocolate had a creamy texture that melted beautifully in his mouth with each small bite. He couldn’t help but to let out a sound of enjoyment and contentment. “Mmmm.” He opened his eyes to see that his friend was sitting forward now, gazing at him intently with a wild smile on his face, making Aziraphale blush.

“You like them, then?”

“Oh, yes, Crowley, they are splendid. You must have one.”

Crowley lithely sprung to his feet and ambled over to Aziraphale, plucking a chocolate from the box. He rotated it in his fingers for a moment, considering it, before popping it into his mouth. My, he was graceful. In a sort of demonic way, of course. Aziraphale watched him expectantly as he swallowed the chocolate. “Well?”

Crowley shrugged. “‘S’not really my thing. Alcohol, though, now that’s something I can get behind.” Crowley lazily discarded his empty teacup on Aziraphale’s desk before laying back out on the couch.

“Oh! I’ve got some stores here! If you’d like wine, I’ve got some nice vintages, oh and I think I have a nice scotch somewhere as well!” Aziraphale placed his own teacup and the chocolates on the desk before rushing to the pantry to rifle through the cupboards.

“Wouldn’t mind some scotch!” He heard Crowley call from the couch.

~~~

4 solid hours of drinking and half a box of chocolates later, Aziraphale was becoming less and less capable of lucid thought. Crowley was pacing around in a rumpled shirt, his coat and waistcoat strewn somewhere. He was waxing on about something philosophical, Aziraphale was struggling to follow what.

Aziraphale’s limited thought capacity was focused on reflecting on the gift of chocolates from Crowley. This was the first gift Crowley had given him. They had had many meals and drinks together, met at various rendezvous locations, and most recently, Crowley had actually saved Aziraphale from what would have likely been a rather unpleasant beheading and a mountain of paperwork. But this was something more. Did chocolates have some sort of meaning? The answer was out of Aziraphale’s reach, escaping to the corners of his mind, pressing up against imaginary walls he couldn’t reach.

Perhaps he really did just think Aziraphale would like them. He had been quite right.

Is this what it is to have a true friend?

Someone who thinks of you when you aren’t together?

Someone who celebrates with you when you accomplish something?

A minor accomplishment, really, acquiring a space for a bookshop. But it was exciting, all the same. And Crowley was probably his only peer (are they peers? He supposed so) to understand why.

“What do you reckon?”

“Sorry?” Aziraphale realized that Crowley had directed a question at him and he hadn’t the faintest idea what it was about.

“About all these rules about virtue and propriety and all that. I mean, it’s a double standard, isn’t it? Women and men. Take women- isn’t their position in society sort of, well, bonkers? I mean, it’s daft, innit?”

“Well, how would I know?”

“What’Dyu mean, how would you know? Haven’t your side got an argument?”

“Well, yes, I s’pose. I s’pose my side would say Eve was made of Adam to be his help-meet, or what have you, which I s’pose means something about womanly duty-“

“And what do you think?”

“‘M an angel. I must agree with the heavenly, um, something.”

“Oh, c’mon, you’re cleverer than that.”

Aziraphale felt his face redden. “I don’t expect you to understand heavenly arguments.”

“No, ‘course not,” the demon responded with an edge in his voice. He scooped his hat from the floor. “Well, I wouldn’t want my lowly demonic presence to taint your shop any more than it has.”

“What? Crowley. Surely you aren’t leaving? My dear fellow, let’s just sober up.”

The demon seemed to calm at that. “Yeah. S’pose.”

After they each scrunched their faces and squeezed the alcohol out of their systems, Crowley flopped again on the couch dramatically. “You know, all this class division the humans have come up with, and all this gender nonsense, it’s all out of their control, isn’t it? They can’t help if they are born a bastard or a woman or just plain poor. And there’s no way out of it!”

Aziraphale was still trying to get the bad taste of sobering up out of his mouth, but he looked at Crowley curiously. “But you’re a demon. Shouldn’t you be happy about something like that? I mean, humans creating misery for each other? Makes your job easier, doesn’t it?”

“Well, maybe, but it’s not much fun if it if there is no choice,” Crowley said simply.

“Well, really, the ones that are born bastards or women or poor are the luckiest because it is the meek that will inherit the earth.”

“Doesn’t do ‘em a sod of good now.”

“No, I suppose not.”

“I mean, take women, like I was saying before,” he re-positioned himself to be perched on one of the couch’s arms, from which position he could now gesture wildly. “Even born rich, their entire lives are spent trying to become the best prize so some bozo with lots of money will choose them. Why? So they don’t have to be poor and so they don’t bring shame to the family? They can’t inherit for themselves, can’t do business, it’s worse for the rich ones, even. At least the poor ones can work and have some independence. Imagine, knowing that marriage is your most important life goal and it’s a financial arrangement. No choice. Just because of who you were born. And one little mistake can end everything. One little impropriety. Men don’t have to worry about that. What if she loves someone who’s poor? No dice. Not if she wants to maintain her position in society.”

“What would you know about love ?”

Crowley seemed surprised to have been cut off mid-tirade. He gazed at Aziraphale open mouthed for a moment before closing his mouth tightly and remaining silent. A few more silent moments passed and Aziraphale wondered if he had said something very wrong, indeed. He searched Crowley’s face for an answer. He had his glasses on and was still as a statue, his face expressionless.

“Nothing,” Crowley said with an air of sober finality. After a thoughtful beat, “You know, I am beginning to think this class stuff is one of your lot’s. Sounds like the Almighty. One little mistake, no choice.” Crowley’s bitterness cut through the stale air.

“Now, see here,” Aziraphale responded sternly. “My lot is responsible for nothing of the sort.” Aziraphale couldn’t help but be offended. Sure, he hadn’t given much thought to classes or gender or social injustice in general, really, previously. But since Crowley laid it out so plainly, he had to admit he had a point and something so wretched could not have come from the Almighty. Aziraphale would have known about it. When Crowley didn’t respond, Aziraphale added “I certainly wouldn’t be involved in creating such a system.”

Somehow this little statement managed to break Crowley out of whatever spell he was under and he picked up his top hat again to spin it lazily, a smile creeping on his face. “No. You wouldn’t.”

Aziraphale was relieved to see him back in what appeared to be his usual playful state.

“You never told me any more about your first day in the shop. Any interesting customers?” Crowley asked lightly.

Aziraphale told him about the two rather uninteresting encounters, but Crowley seemed to be gleeful with each story, anyways.

“Ah, young hearts. I may not know much about love, Angel, but I do know about lust. You had better be careful.”

“Whatever do you mean? Those young ladies were certainly not interested in me.”

“No, not them. Though I appreciate their interest in regimental men. One of ours, militaries are. No, no,” Crowley said, waving his hand. “The gentleman who came in? I don’t think he is interested in your books.”

“No, I rather gathered that much. Hold on, do you mean to imply-“ Aziraphale’s face flushed as Crowley raised his eyebrows, a wide smile on his face. “Well, that is just preposterous!” Aziraphale stammered.

Crowley sprung from his perch. “I’m just saying. I’m willing to bet that’s not the last time he turns up,” Crowley teased, circling around Aziraphale’s armchair and positioning himself just behind him. Aziraphale stared forward, huffing. From behind him, Aziraphale heard, “Well, it’s rather late, isn’t it?”

“Yes, rather.” Aziraphale’s response came out a bit petulant. Crowley chuckled.

“I had better be off. Don’t let the rest of those chocolates go to waste,” Crowley demanded playfully, giving Aziraphale’s shoulders a light squeeze from behind him, before sweeping through the room to gather his scattered belongings.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Aziraphale responded breathlessly. Any indignation he had felt at Crowley’s teasing had evaporated instantly upon Crowley’s touch. His eyes locked onto Crowley, tracking his movement through the room. Finally, with all his belongings in hand, Crowley faced Aziraphale from the door to the main shop.

“I look forward to more bookshop stories!”

“Um. Yes, of course.”

And with that, Crowley was out of the back room and into the main shop. It took a moment for Aziraphale to gather himself enough to get up. He followed hesitantly into the main shop to see Crowley already gone. He made it to the window just in time to see his retreating figure fade into the darkness of the night.

Well. That was a thing.

~~~

The gentleman who had visited did come back to the shop, as Crowley predicted, several times. He exchanged pleasantries with Aziraphale during a few short visits (never showing much interest in the books) before eventually inviting him to join a discreet gentlemen’s club, one not too dissimilar from the one in which Aziraphale would learn the gavotte some decades later. Aziraphale was delighted to join and quickly became a regular member in attendance.

If the man who originally invited him became frustrated by Aziraphale’s lack of special attention, to him or to any of the club members, Aziraphale never noticed. (Aziraphale merely reveled in having happened upon such a fun social group.) There was no question as to whether he belonged in the group, but the gentlemen did wonder at this completely delightful and effusive man who never so much as returned a coy glance to any of them. It wasn’t until some of the gentlemen were in a tea house together, the angel in their company, that some explanation revealed itself.

They were laughing gayly and exchanging stories about their favorite indulgences (of the food variety, thank you very much) and Aziraphale had brought up the chocolates. “Swiss chocolates! Actually from Switzerland! Oh, they were delightful. Simply divine!” This, of course, was met by approving nods.

Someone else was sharing, going on about some cake at a particularly high society ball, when Aziraphale, who had happened to be gazing out the window contentedly, gasped. The man’s story paused as all the gentlemen turned to look at Aziraphale in surprise. “But- but that’s him! There!” The men remained in an awed silence as Aziraphale pointed out the window. “My friend! Who gave me the chocolates!” Aziraphale stood from his chair abruptly, causing several teacups to wobble on their dishes as his burst shook the table and his chair. He smoothed his waist coat, eyes fixed on the someone outside. “I- I had better say hello. Excuse me, gentlemen,” he announced rather absently as he quickly gathered and donned his coat and hat, rushing out the tea house door. The gentlemen’s gazes followed after him through the window, seeing him catch up to a thin and handsomely dressed man who had been looking through a shop window. When he saw their friend, the man took off his hat, revealing fiery red hair, and bowed theatrically. The bow was met by a chuckle and blush none of them had ever seen grace their friend’s face in their own company.

“Swiss chocolates. All the way from Switzerland,” one of the men watching from the tea house said, shaking his head.

“Well there you have it, John,” another man said. “You never stood a chance.”

AO3

#Ineffable Husbands #ineffable boyfriends #otp: ineffable #fanfiction #good omens #aziraphale/crowley #crowley/aziraphale

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steve0discusses · 5 years

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Yugioh S2 Ep 48: Bakura Completely Fails to Murder The One Person He Was Actually Supposed to Murder

Yo guys, this is the last episode of the season.

...

I know. How exactly do you resolve ANYTHING in one episode? The secret is, you don’t. Like...one thing did get resolved but it really seems like this was a 2 season storyline they were really banking on doing so well it would stretch into season 2 but, according to bro, this show got hella cancelled?

I can’t believe it. Finally. I’ve been joking about it for like a year but it actually happened.

Now my bro is full of spicy headcanons about this show and I decided to look up on Wikipedia to see what the hell happened between Season 2 and 3 for him to say this but I saw nothing about cancelling anything, but he’s pretty certain that this happened. So, I’m gonna open it up to all of you guys who know way more about this show than either of us to set it straight--was there cancellation drama between Season 2 and Season 3 or is bro just remembering history incorrectly?

Anyways, this show is obviously around for Season 3 but bro says it gets distracted and everyone has hinted that we get a really great filler arc that is most people’s absolutely favorite arc in the entire world. I’m honestly shocked I made it this far. But, lets first get into the episode.

This episode starts exactly where I wanted it to, with Tea realizing that she’s not only wandered into Bakura’s room, but that, from her perspective, it has made Bakura so freakin uncomfortable that he hella left.

Like imagine with me that your on a High school trip and you’re with all your buddies but then there’s that one kid who is a friend, but you don't know TOO well because he’s kind of awkward and also half a murderous ghost. Imagine he gets hella sick and then for some reason, you sleepwalk to his bedside, all draped across the sheets, and when you wake up he’s just...peaced right out of that entire awkward conversation that would have been.

Like...my reaction would have been completely the opposite of what Tea did.

Which was run straight to her somewhat-boyfriend Yugi Muto and tell him exactly what she just inadvertently did.

Also, forgive me for this aside, but Yugi is like 16, so why is Yugi randomly kind of jacked all of a sudden? Is that little backpack he carries just full of lead?

Oh wait, yeah...necklace is solid gold. But even still like...this small boy shouldn’t appear this jacked. Like, I know a lot of preteen girls were into this show for the large selection of anime boys, but I prefer Yugi looking sort of like the human version of a Pekingese instead. Mostly because I’m an adult, I guess. Not that I never had a preteen anime boy crush phase, but we’re talking Tuxedo Mask, who was sort of developed to be a preteen anime boy crush. Like, Tuxedo Mask has literally no other reason to exist except to be a perfect husband who gets abducted a lot, but Yugi? Like..he sells cards, why’s he gotta grow up?

My bros current spicy headcanon is that he’s slowly becoming jacked because of being in the Shadow Realm so often, and that it beefs you up like when Goku goes to space and turns the gravity on super duper high, but sure bro, you do you. Bro’s got a spicy headcanon for every loophole this show throws at us. (and it is surprising which ones were actually correct and which were probably a fanfic he read in High School.)

(read more under the cut)

Anyways, Yugi thankfully puts on a jacket and they decide not to wake up Joey’s room to see if Bakura also joined the Boy Chamber after Tea kicked him out but like...while that would be the most reasonable place to look, they decided to see if maybe Bakura is sleeping in...the hallways? I dunno why they immediately thought Bakura was kidnapped. Now that the ring isn’t with him then...there’d be no reason for Marik to kill him.

Then again, maybe Bakura kind of wanders off and does ghost stuff so often, that these two are always checking up on where Bakura wandered off to?

I guess these two just didn’t feel like waking anyone up. Or using the enchanted necklace Yugi just got. Or asking Roland the security guard. Or maybe, I dunno, ever asking Kaiba for help, who is still absolutely awake and doing literally nothing else with his time.

Like serious talk, a lot of this season’s problems would have been resolved if they had just gone to the guy in charge of the tourney and asked for him to use his endless resources to help out the tourney that he is hosting. Like, he would have done it. I know this is a bit of a stretch but I don’t think Kaiba wants people dueling to the death at 3AM. Especially if he can’t watch them do it.

I appreciate that the blimp was so important to Kaiba that he rendered it in 3-D and has it just rotating there, weirdly CG while the rest of this screen is drawn. Also, Kaiba’s desktop situation is an absolute nightmare, this boy is somehow managing a company but he cannot manage a desktop?

PS are you ready for this outfit without the horrible spiky shoulder jacket? Are you ready? Because I wasn’t.

he can’t seem to get away from that victorian gothic lady silhouette.

And so Kaiba is faced with a problem, he’s only got a low win chance to get this card the fair way. This would be a great time to just arrest Marik right now, although it would be somewhat difficult since their duel to the death is halfway over, but like, Kaiba also really likes losing at cards. He says he doesn’t, but Kaiba seems to sprint to every opportunity he can get to absolutely lose or only just narrowly win because your Dead Wife Card sent you a weird hallucination that one time.

Like...of the times that Kaiba’s dueled solo we’ve only seen Kaiba win twice, right? And once was to a random guy on the street? Yeah. Kaiba’s only won a single time on screen.

I mean, of course, unless you count the time he threatened to commit suicide if he lost and Yugi was like “What the hell!?” but I don’t know if we should count that as like...a game.

Despite the fact that Yugi has never once offered her even like...a coat in this freakin weather, Tea has decided that they’re official enough, that she will argue with him about how they now both...share a destiny??? This feels like jumping the gun a little bit?

I don’t know what the hell she’s even talking about. But she’s been treating it like they’ve been married for like 8 years. Which...would require a little bit more...supporting evidence for me as a viewer that Tea and Yugi would actually be this much of an item at this point.

Like at least she’s not a reincarnated soul of his dead wife stuffed into a playing card--this show has pulled weirder random romance plots out of it’s ass--but it’s a huge leap to suddenly tell me “And remember these two???? This romance of the ages?????” at this point, this far into the end of the season.

And like...don’t be misled by my description of this conversation, they never once even come closer than a foot of each other.

Everything about this is kinda weird. No kinkshame of course, all ships are good and valid. But, assuming that Marik’s got a foot in both Tea and Bakura’s brain right now, these two are 6 people right now (2 are Bakura, if he’s still swimming around with Tea, it’s unclear), and 2(3) of those people has tried to kill both of them, but now are piggybacking on these guys’ bodies that are currently fumbling about how the hell to date even. Imagine how awkward Marik feels rn. Just imagine.

Or maybe he’s super into it, Marik’s a nut.

Pharaoh just kind of rolled his eyes and walked through this mist door as Tea stood uselessly on the other side and it’s like, yeah, we feel you, Pharaoh, we don’t know why that conversation had to happen either.

Meanwhile, I’ve been skipping the card game portion which actually looked very nice. Again, it was the last episode, they upped their game, but that won’t come through in caps so just know--that was nice. but because Bakura decided to do the taboo of playing a God Card, it absolutely royally screwed him over. and then Marik fused his body to it like Final Fantasy and it’s like...sure why not. It’s the last episode. Fuse your body with a playing card, no one will question how that would have worked outside of a shadow game.

Anyways, Marik kinda saw that happen and was like, well damn. Didn’t know it could do that. Weird, right? Huh. So much for living in obscurity and being tortured underground and keeping the Pharaoh’s secrets for 5000 years, apparently we knew...NONE OF THEM.

And then Bakura died, and even dropped us an iconic one liner as Marik sends him into the darkness while saying “enjoy the darkness!” or something like that. This was extremely 2000′s. It’s fine to be cliche if you’re...Bakura. You kinda have to be. That is the whole point of Bakura.

So he said, something like this

Like the exact line was more like...”Did you forget, I AM darkness??” or something, but man, that sums up the whole of Bakura so well. Like, he doesn’t make sense. But, he doesn’t have to, because the point of Bakura is that he’s just a walking 00′s prototype and that’s what makes him great. Like if you could make the 00′s hot topic aesthetic (minus the meme shirts) into a candle and then burn it down to nearly the end of the wick--that’s Bakura.

Like I watch kids as a dayjob and the other day the 12yo was like “I drew stuff, do you want to see?” so I was like “Absolutely!” and she’s like “I warn you--it’s kind of messed up.” and I’m like “that’s fine” and she’s like “no but really it’s spooky, ok? I just want to warn you.” and I’m like “try me” and she flips open her ipad and in the apple version of MSpaint I kid you not it was

A happy face

crying black tears.

And I’m like “Wow.” and she’s like “I know, it’s pretty dark” and I’m like “well, not exactly, he seems pretty cheerful” and she was like “well this one is really really scary are you ready?” and I’m like “OK, because that one was pretty happy” and she’s like “no Rach this one is like reallllllly messed up. You’re going to think I’m crazy.” and I’m like “oh shoot” and she flipped open to the next page in her ipad and it was

A happy face

It’s eyes are bloodshot. (magenta blood. It was Magenta)

And I’m like “wow! He’s even happier!” and she was like “But this is the scariest thing I’ve ever drawn in my life!” because to a 12yo, that is scary. Like it’s funny to me because honestly, the way kids and even teens think of what is “scary” is so different than what is “scary” to an adult. And Bakura is sort of like the personification of an MSpaint happy face crying blood tears.

Like, he’s different than Marik in that Marik’s backstory was super well established, while Bakura...never needed one. Apparently he will get one, but he honestly doesn’t need it. He’s just a nightmare that a kid would have. I don’t really question the logic of what happens around Bakura vs everyone else because...he’s Bakura.

I do question that he somehow got beaten by Marik. That doesn’t add up for me, but honestly the other Marik kind of messed Bakura up so...you could say he was doomed to fail that. It was more that Marik beat himself and dragged Bakura with him.

And like, I’m not upset that I don’t have to look up Britishisms anymore and take notes during British Bake Off and then completely lose those notes when it comes time to write these. But wow, I will miss Bakura.

Didn’t know I’d miss you until you were gone, little gross disgusting buddy.

Didn’t realize how I’d miss you killing off random people all the time and pretending to be a good boy while leaving little cookie crumbs of a storyline that will apparently not even get picked up until like forever from now.

Ah, so lets pour a glass of fries that we call potato chips, pour some vinegar all over them and remember our favorite Bakura moments.

Like that time he straight up murdered everyone on this show and then inspired me to pick up bro’s idea to create this entire blog series.

Or that time he tried to possess Mokuba but then got stomach punched by Tristan while everyone else canonically thought Tristan was taking 4 hours to poop.

Or that time he decided “Screw this, I’m just going to use lasers!” and then never used lasers ever again.

Or that time they all walked in on Pegasus doing human sacrifices of living people and Bakura went “Oi, that’s a little much!” and then wiped everyone’s memories and dragged them back to their rooms, including Pegasus.

Or that time he decided to swing from the rafters of a warehouse and knock over Bandit Keith, and then say “Oi, all better” and then just walked away while the entire warehouse combusted into flames.

Or that time he just held up a recently used disembodied eyeball and then in the Japanese version, licked it clean.

I will miss you, you freakin weirdo, and will I ever get to write about him again? I actually have no idea. Season 5 is a really long time from now. I’ll keep the Bakura color palate saved in the corner of my Photoshop, but ah, it will be a forever from now before I get to click it again. If I ever do.

But congrats to his voice actor who now gets to take a very long drink of tea and fix whatever the hell talking like Bakura does to your vocal chords.

Marik picks up the ring although I’m not sure that it matters and now I’m very confused as to where the hell the absolutely never-washed eyeball went. Maybe he saw it rolling around down there and was like “I’ll have to come back with a ziplock baggy for that.”

We started this season with Yugi being late and arguing with Tea about being late and now we end the same way. It all came together.

Yami could have done something, but there wasn’t enough time in this season, so he just let Marik walk free.

I swear, Yami.

In her defense, maybe this is what jammies actually are when you live underground?

And then, to make things even more complicated, Marik has decided to show up to Ishizu as...Tea.

Also, miracles of miracles, this plot thread actually paid off:

And then for I guess 2 Seasons Bakura just plays with Yugi’s Tomogachi’s and does calf raises on all these stairs. I would say he’d have to avoid running into Pharaoh, but I feel like Pharaoh only really hangs out in the one room at the entrance. He doesn’t seem to really care about these doors anymore.

At least someone was there for the Tomogachis, in the end. Mine has been dead for 20 years, but Yugi’s will live on apparently eternally. The immortal Tomogachi (which was apparently featured in Season Zero?).

Stepping away from the Yugioh Tomogachi headcanon, lets see what Marik’s up to. Oh that’s right, that thing he keeps trying to do.

Nice.

And just when I thought this episode was finally over, get ready for it, get ready for this massive plot dump that just comes right out of no where so quickly I didn’t even get to fit it all in one cap.

That’s right, this season ended with a cliffhanger of Seto saying along the lines of he stole his father’s company (OK?) and then his Stepfather got super pissed and fled here and then Kaiba built a huge ass phallic tower on it and like...it was a lot for the last 1 minute of the show.

Anyways, it ends with Kaiba being like “NOW DO YOU UNDERSTAND, WHY WE’RE COMING HERE, TO THIS ISLAND, TO PLAY CARDS!?” and it’s like no, no one understands, Kaiba. Your brain doesn’t work right. This is weird.

This is so freakin weird.

Kaiba was giving the Ishtars a hard time about their family issues being resolved with his tourney, and it was because apparently he was ALSO using this tourney to resolve his own family issues the entire time.

Anyway, I never expected for Kaiba to become such a dominant character on this show but we are going to Kaiba island. Another freakin island.

So Season 3 is apparently way different and my bro was like “we can just skip all that filler? We can skip like 20 episodes.” and I was like “That is not the point of this blog. We are watching the filler.”

Now, just FYI I’m gonna take a break for a bit between seasons, probably for about 2 weeks or so. I’m probably going to make a little buffer because life stuff will inevitably pop up and I’d hate to go too off schedule now that I know Pharaoh wears PJs in season 5. Like, I enjoy doing this blog, it’s incredibly nice to do something that isn’t art related and has zero expectations assigned to it, but it is a side project, so I gotta prep accordingly.

That being said, thanks so much y’all for reading these, and all the nice comments (which I am very bad at responding to, especially since it really feels like tumblr doesn’t...have a response ability built in). I was really only making these with bro to cheer him up when he hated his job and was quitting--and then he quit and we continued to make them because last year was pretty stressful (like I don’t talk about it here because this is a happy blog but damn I’m glad 2018 is in the trash) That other people seem to enjoy these rants was fun and unexpected. So thanks for reading and putting up with the fact we know very little about this series. Well, now I know an awful lot actually. Scary how much I know about Yugioh now. Eh.

I got a graveyard post I’ll probs put out there around next weekend, in the meantime, but, other than that...I’ll see y’all in Season 3.

And if you just got here, this is a link to read the recaps in chrono order from s1 ep 1

#yugioh #yugioh recaps #photo recaps #s2 ep48 #I did it #I did two full seasons #apparently this is the 97th post I made including season zero ps #although math is not my strong suit #yugi muto #bakura #bakura freakin died #marik ishtar #tea gardner #kaiba #seto kaiba #mokuba

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