#they love to hang out at the fountain inside the complex right across the street. had to pick em up to return to the fountain | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ari-writes-hq · 3 years

Text

Unlucky Days and Back Scratches

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bokuto x Fem! Fiancée! Reader

Summary: Bokuto has a really bad day and just wants to be in the arms of his love

Words: 2,476

Warnings: Bokuto has a bad day (he's accident prone), fluffy fluff, and some grammar errors maybe?

A/N: I'm genuinely terrified to post this for it is my very first fan fic (that I started and finished and it took me 3 days to do so too). I'm honestly getting the confidence to post it because it's 12:20 am and @toru-oikawas-milkbread. Please be nice to me and I hope that ya'll enjoy <3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a very, very, very long and rough day for Bokuto Kōtarō. It first started when he had accidentally overslept, due to staying up late into the night making love to his beloved girlfriend-turned-fiancée and had completely forgotten the early start that Meian had scheduled for the team, he was late to practice by nearly three hours. On top of that, “Silent Mode” was turned on on his phone as well, so he didn’t hear the mass messages and calls from his various teammates.

Aside from waking up late, Bokuto struggled leaving the house. How could he leave his long term girlfriend of nearly four years who had just agreed to marry him, and someone who doubled up as his best friend, all alone in their big apartment? The beefy 6’2 male just wanted to stay home and wrap himself around his woman who slept peacefully next to him in all her naked glory. If she had been clothed, Bokuto probably would have only been an hour late to practice. He doesn’t regret it though, he knows that he’s going to end up staying late to make up for the time that he had lost.

When Bokuto finally made it to the MSBY building, he had tried to sneak his way to the locker rooms, but with his luck and the morning he was having, he had accidentally knocked over the janitor’s broom and mop that had been leaning up against the wall. Quickly, his coach and teammates, who were having a small discussion of what to work on next, whip their heads towards the noise, finding a sheepish and guilty Bokuto. Within seconds, he was bombarded by his coach and teammates.

Somehow escaping their wrath, Bokuto was able to finally make it to the locker room where he struggled to open his locker. Has the code changed? Did someone switch his lock as revenge for him coming in late? About fifteen minutes later, with the help of Sakusa, who was sent in by Meian, he found out that he had just been twisting the knob the wrong way. Then, while trying to change, he realized his jersey was far too small and as he was trying to get the constricting article off, he had accidentally tripped and fell over one of the metal benches. There is now a bruise on his left shin.

During practice, and after getting a new shirt, Bokuto’s work performance seemed to lack. He kept messing up his serves. If he wasn’t hitting it, he was missing it. Then at one point he had put a little too much force into one of his spikes, causing the ball to lose control and hit one of the managers in the face, they walked away with a bloody nose. The salt and pepper haired male never truly believed in karma until now. As he was trying to receive a ball, the ball then bounced up from his upper forearms and nailed him in the face… fifteen times.

On top of that, he couldn’t get any of the new moves down. It was concerning since he was one to learn decently quickly when it came to new techniques. Meian had even questioned him about his performance loss. Bokuto had no idea, normally he was on top of his game both in practice and games. So why is he suddenly having a hard time with everything?

After practice, which ran three hours late in the night, Bokuto thought his bad luck was finally at a stand still. Outside, the sky was clear, the stars were bright, well, assuming that they were since the city lights made it impossible for anyone to see them, and there was a gentle fall breeze, so, Bokuto decided to walk home rather than message his lover, who he believed was asleep.

Not even three minutes out of the ten minute walk, rain had suddenly downpoured. Clouds rolled in, hiding the once clear sky, lightning flashed the same gold as Bokuto’s eyes, thunder rang in his ears, and the once gentle breeze suddenly became rough. If not for the rain, Bokuto’s gravity defying, black and white hair would have fallen into its dejected droop.

Why does the world hate me today? He had thought to himself as he huddled underneath a building's canopy. Quickly pulling out his phone, he had checked the time, Midnight, Y/N’s probably asleep. Maybe Akaashi? He opened his messages and pressed his old high school teammate’s name before pressing the text box and sending a quick, Akaaashi, are you still awake? Y/N dropped me off at work today and it was really really nice out when I got off so I decided to walk home instead of catching a ride but now it’s storming. I forgot my bag so I don’t have anything to protect me from the rain. Please, come save me. Satisfied with his message, he pressed “send” with a hopeful smile.

Roughly two very slow minutes passed by before Bokuto’s phone went off.

Yes, Bokuto, I am awake. I will come get you. Next time look at the weather forecast. Where are you? Was Akaashi’s reply. Bokuto grinned at his phone quickly sending him a,

Thank you, Akaashi! I’m-, Bokuto raised his golden eyes to look around his surroundings, not entirely sure where he is himself. I actually don’t know where I am. A few moments after sending the message, Bokuto’s phone lit up, an “incoming call” from the former setter. Answering it, Bokuto pressed the “speaker” button.

“Bokuto, how can you not know where you are? You know what, don’t answer that.” The male on the other side of the receiver sighs. “What are some shops and landmarks around you? Street names?” Bokuto hummed, quickly looking at his surroundings once again.

“Well, I do know I’m not too far away from the MSBY building, uh, there’s a fountain outside a res- oh wait! That’s the restaurant I proposed to Y/N last night! I’m under a… oh I forgot the name of the roof thingy,”

“A canopy?”

“Yes! That thing! I’m under one of those across from the restaurant I proposed to Y/N!”

“Good, okay. I’m on my way. Do not move from your spot, I don’t want you to get lost… again.” From the other side of the phone, Bokuto could hear his friend unlock and open his car door. “You understand?”

The former ace chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck with his free hand. “Yeah, yeah. Just hurry, please,” he basically whined. “I want to go home and cuddle Y/N. I miss her.” Akaashi rolled his eyes and hung up, causing Bokuto to pout down at his device. “Akaashi’s so mean.”

What seemed like an eternity, Akaashi’s car came into view. Bokuto, unsure if his friend can see him, raised his large arms and flailed them around, only stopping when the car came to a stop right next to him. Throwing the front passenger door open, Bokuto slipped into the seat and closed the door with a, “Thank you so much, Akaashi,” he put the seatbelt on. “I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

The dark haired man put the car in “drive”, starting his way towards the other man’s home, he replied, “Nah, you didn’t wake me up. I have my deadline coming up so I’m trying to finish everything as quickly as I can.” Bokuto nodded enthusiastically. The short car ride was filled with some talk of the past, bringing up some of their most memorable moments from high school, then, some of the talk was the two catching up, given the fact that the duo both worked two completely different jobs and have very little time to hang out anymore.

Akaashi talked about his work, telling what little he could to his friend, not wanting to spoil anything. Believe it or not, Bokuto read the little stories that Akaashi edits for his work, just because the two don’t see each other often doesn’t mean he can’t support his friend in other ways. After Akaashi, Bokuto talked about his day, how everything seemed to go wrong for him and all he wanted to do was to go home and be in his fiancée’s arms.

Soon enough, Akaashi pulls his car in front of a luxury apartment complex. Getting out with another, “thank you”, Bokuto closed the door and swiftly made his way into the building. Once Akaashi knew that his friend was inside, he drove off. The tall male was on a mission: get into the arms of his lover as quickly as possible. He knew that the moment she wrapped her arms around his body, even if he had to wake her up for it, his bad day streak would end.

Running up to the elevator, Bokuto pushed the “up” button and impatiently waited for the elevator with his thick arms crossed and a pout on his lips. Giving up with a huff, Bokuto makes his way to the stairs and runs up them, tripping at least five times and falling once. Why did I choose to live on the top floor? Y/N even said it was a bad idea. He grumbled to himself, tripping on the very last step that leads to his home.

Rushing to his front door, he removes his keys from one of his pockets and fumbles with said keys, even dropping them not once, not twice, but three times before he finally was able to unlock the door. Throwing it open, he yells, “baby, I’m home!”, as he takes off his shoes and places his keys on the hook next to the door. His golden eyes racl over the large, dark living room and the equally dark kitchen. Realizing that she is in fact not in the room, he makes his way towards their shared bedroom.

“Baby, you awake?” He slowly opens their closed bedroom door, trying to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to wake Y/N up if she is actually asleep. Peeking in, his eyes fall onto her body lying on his side of the bed, her back facing him. “Baby?” he whispers, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him, albeit louder than intentional. This caused the girl to jump in her sleep and whine.

“Baby, you home?” she called out, turning towards the door, mind blank, not realizing and too tired to care that it could have been an intruder. The tall man hummed in confirmation and quickly started to take his clothes off, wanting nothing but to be in his lover’s arms as fast as possible. “Kou, you okay?” Y/N piped, worried as she watched the man catch his foot in his shorts and nearly face plant had he not caught himself on the edge of the bed. He launched himself onto the female.

“No, bad day,” he mumbled, face smooshed into her neck.

“Wanna talk about it?” Y/N ran her hand through his droopy salt and pepper hair. The larger man removed his body from the female’s, a pout on his lips as he sat back on his knees, Bokuto began to talk about his “unlucky day”.

Half an hour and many tangents later, he finished the detailed story of his day. Large hands reached out to Y/N and roughly, but softly, pushed her to lay flat on her back, then, Bokuto took hold of her arms and splayed them out on the bed, he did the same to her legs too. Happy with her position, Bokuto nestled himself in between her legs and covered the female with his body like a blanket.

Smooshing her cheek with his, he let out a puppy like whine. “Hold me,”. He reached his hands out to her arms and moved them around his torso. “Want you to hold me, baby, please, need it. Need you to.” Bokuto rubbed his nose against her cheek before peppering kisses down her neck and nuzzling into it. “Please, baby.” He whined more.

Chuckling softly, Y/N tightened her arms around the man and moved her head to the side to place a soft smooch on his head. “Of course, baby. Anything else you need?” Bokuto let another whine out, shifting himself so he could get closer to the woman, even though he was lying on top of her with all of his body weight. “Kō?” Bokuto mumbled into the female’s neck, although she couldn’t hear him. “Baby,” she tapped on his back. “Can’t hear you.”

The man huffed and lifted his head up, his black and white hair disheveled, golden eyes glossy, and a pout on his lips. “Scratch my back, baby, please,” he whined and dropped his head back down into the warmth of his fiancée’s neck. He wiggled in Y/N’s hold, scooching up her body so he was closer to her ear. “Pleeeeeease, baby.”

“Ask and you shall receive, my love.” Y/N’s left hand that was flat against Bokuto’s back arched into a claw. Slowly and softly, but with some pressure, she traced her nails up and down his back, or wherever he specified (the nape of his neck seemed to be his favorite spot). Every so often, Y/N would look at her ring finger to admire the pear shaped engagement ring that the male on top of her had proposed to her with the night before.

“Baby,” Bokuto lifted himself up to look at the woman. Y/N hummed, turning her head up towards him to make eye contact.

“Yes, Kō?” He had a lopsided grin on his face and gave a whiney chuckle when the girl’s nails scratched up his nape.

Bokuto moved closer to his lover’s face. “I love you,” he said confidently. “You’re the love of my life,” he nuzzled his nose into hers. “Never wanna let you go.” With that, he pressed his lips onto Y/N’s and flopped back onto her, whining and cooing into the kiss as she kept up with her ministrations. Pulling back from the kiss, he cooed into her ear, “So good to me baby. M’ safe haven. Can’t wait to marry you.”

With that, Bokuto gripped at Y/N’s sides, whining and cooing as he pulled themselves impossibly closer. Placing a small, wet kiss to her neck, Bokuto nuzzled himself back into the woman’s neck. Within the matter of minutes of Y/N scratching his back and a, “I love you too, Kō. I’ve got you, my love, you’re safe”, the love sick man fell asleep peacefully, happy, and safe in his lover’s arms, a smile on his face.

30 notes · View notes

ddagent · 4 years

Note

Okay okay yes I will 100% prompt New New Amsterdam au first meeting in future preferably?

I honestly have no idea if this is any good. It’s my first fic post-flu, and my sinus infection does not seem to be getting any better. But here we are. Also: this is more Forever than New Amsterdam because I’ve got another immortal!Jaime idea on the books and I wanted to write something a little different. But I hope you enjoy all the same!

Jaime Lannister was dead. Not for the first time.

In truth, the former knight had long since stopped keeping count of his deaths; six hundred years of immortality and a smart mouth had racked up the numbers. Jaime remembered his first, in the belly of the Red Keep, and he remembered the most painful. This one wouldn’t even make the top one hundred: there was a woman, a mugger, a knife. Pain, blood, and a weightless feeling as the life left him and his body vanished into thin air. Only for him to be reborn, as he always was, where it began.

Only now the dungeons of the Red Keep was an apartment complex, and the specific spot he died was a fountain.

“Maiden save me, that man’s not wearing any clothes!”

Oh, and every time he was reborn, he emerged naked.

Stepping out of the fountain, Jaime shook his damp hair and waved at the startled woman with his right arm as his only hand covered his cock. This wasn’t the first time he’d been reborn in the fountain; nor would it be his last. Thankfully, he’d started stashing clothes in the courtyard, and a phone so he could call Ty for a pick-up. Rebirth meant no clothes, no phone, no prosthetic hand. Just Jaime Lannister in his nameday suit.

Today, he made it two steps before the gates to the courtyard opened, and two gold cloaks entered. Well, fuck. “Ser, ser, if you could come with us please?”

Which was how Jaime found himself wrapped in a blanket and bundled in the back of a patrol car. Again. Six hundred years of immortality meant he had seen more, done more than he ever had in his first lifetime. He’d travelled as far as Mereen and seen beyond the Wall. He’d worked as a sailor, a bodyguard, and even forged chains at the Citadel. He’d buried three children and two siblings, and had loved – truly – only once. As far as being stabbed in a mugging and arrested for public indecency, this was just an ordinary day.

Booking, spare clothes, questioned by Officer Swann. Jaime practically yawned. “Name?”

“Jaime Hill.” Even now, the name Lannister meant something. He’d never used it; not since his first life. “Detective Jaime Hill. I work in homicide.”

Officer Swann stiffened. “You woke for Chief Redwyne.”

“I’m her top man,” he said, leaning back in his chair. “And, as I told you back at the complex, I have a tendency to sleepwalk. Won’t you look a fool, arresting King’s Landing’s top homicide detective just because he walks in his sleep.”

“You were naked.”

Jaime shrugged. “I don’t care for pyjamas, what more can I say?”

Officer Swann pursed his lips, rose from his chair and discussed options with the other gold cloak who’d brought him in. Jaime just tapped his fingertips against the desk as he waited for them to make the right decision and let him go. Eventually, Officer Swann came back to him.

“You’re free to go, Detective Hill. I’ll see if I can’t get the Beauty to drive you home.”

“The Beauty?”

Swann barked out a laugh. “Officer Payne. She’s new to the precinct.”

A name was called; a figure in the corner of the bullpen turned around. And at that moment all the air left his body, yet Jaime was not reborn. He just sat, transfixed, as the spitting image of Brienne of Tarth crossed the room to join him. He’d forgotten many things of his first life, but the Stranger had given him one more torment, and that was never being able to forget her face. Officer Payne was just as tall, as broad. Her eyes were the same shade of blue; her blonde hair longer and pulled into a ponytail. Gods, even her scowl was the same.

“I wasn’t staring,” he said, when both of them knew he had been. “I mean, I was, but only because you look like someone I went to university with.”

Beside them, Swann just chuckled. “I’ll leave you two lovebirds alone. Officer Payne will drive you home, Detective.”

Swann may have missed the eye roll, but Jaime certainly didn’t. Brienne – Officer Payne – walked him across the bullpen without a word, and Jaime kept his own lip zipped until they were out of earshot. “I can only assume you must be a better driver than they are.”

“Better gold cloak. They can’t stomach the competition.” She didn’t meet his gaze as they left the precinct. “Where am I taking you?”

“Lion Antiquities. My—” Great-however-many-nephew. “—my friend owns the store; I live above it.”

"Fine.”

Not another word was exchanged between them as they settled in Officer Payne’s squad car. The hour had grown late; the streets quiet. Officer Payne maintained the speed limit and stopped for every red light. Jaime almost laughed; this was exactly how the honourable Ser Brienne of Tarth would drive had she ever lived this long. No, she’d died centuries ago. But Officer Payne was her mirror. For a moment, Jaime leaned back against the leather seat and settled himself to the sound of her breathing. He’d long forgotten her voice, or the sounds she made whilst fighting or fucking, but the sound of Officer Payne breathing made him feel safe for the first time in six hundred years.

“What’s your name?” No answer. “I’m Jaime Hill; homicide detective.” Still nothing. “A passenger has a right to know his driver’s name.”

A long, withered sigh. “Brienne Payne.”

Fuck. She was even called Brienne. This couldn’t be a coincidence. Six hundred years and the Gods had created someone with her features, with parents who had given her the name of the first female knight. Fuck, there was even a miniature Oathkeeper hanging from the rearview mirror; other gold cloaks might have fuzzy dice, but this Officer had a miniature Valyrian sword. Do you realise, Brienne Payne, how much you look like her?

“Do you like working as an officer?” he asked instead. “Chief Redwyne is always looking for good detectives.”

“I’m not interested in handouts.”

Jaime huffed. “I’m not–I’m just asking. You seem—”

“—a car ride together where I’m practically your chauffeur is not a firm representation of my investigative skills.” Brienne Payne tapped her indicator. “Whatever you want in exchange for your recommendation, you can keep it.”

“Brienne—” and, oh, how good it felt to say that name again.

“—we’re here.”

And so they were. Lion Antiquities; Ty (short for Tyrion, another mirror) busy inside haggling with a customer. Brienne Payne didn’t open his door or offer another word – not even to scold him. She just kept two hands upon the wheel and two eyes upon the road and let Jaime step out. He watched her, though, until the taillights from her patrol car blinked around the corner. In his many years, Jaime had struggled to understand his purpose; of why he had been granted immortality. Maybe, just maybe, it had something to do with Brienne Payne.

He’d certainly be seeing more of her, of that Jaime was very sure.

Brienne pulled her squad car into the first layby along from Lion Antiquities. Her fingers fumbled with the ignition, and then there was nothing but the sound of her own breathing. Rough, ragged breaths that Brienne drew into her lungs. After a few minutes, she reached for her phone. Tapped in her pin, found her contacts, and pressed call. It took a few rings, but her call was answered.

“Brienne? It’s late. Is everything all right?”

“I’m sorry to call so late, Cat, but I—” Brienne of Tarth sighed. “I’ve just met the spitting image of Jaime Lannister.”

#braime #jaime x brienne #mine: paragraph prompts #ship: braime #anonymous

131 notes · View notes

rokurookajima · 7 years

Text

green gloves, oneshot

fandom: black lagoon summary: She misses having a drinking partner, which really, really sucks. / RockRevy, the melancholy nostalgia of humid night air that makes you think too much. Post-series. notes: i've literally put so much thought into revy's character throughout the series i love her so much. this is set several years after the end of the series (more than five years at least), so i tried to write the characters like they were a little older. or at least, how i assume they'd be? title is a song by the national, the atmosphere of that song encompasses that whole bittersweet nostalgic weird kind of feeling 10/10 vibes would recommend. but who knows maybe i'm the only one that gets that kind of feeling from humid summer nights. (disclaimed.)

green gloves

;;

falling out of touch with all

my friends are somewhere getting wasted

hope they’re staying glued together

i have arms for them

;;

She hears it every now and then, on the occasion that she actually goes out for a drink alone. It's the attempted whispers and not-so hushed tones of the Yellow Flag's usual types from behind their glasses.

Is that her?

The woman from Lagoon?

Revy flexes her fingers idly, rolls an unlit cigarette across the bar top. If she keeps her back to the voices, maybe she'll be less inclined to shoot them.

Not that she really would. Not now. At least not over so little; it would take a hell of a lot more than the drunken musing of retired mafia goons and hookers to make her waste the bullets.

But still. The commentary gets old.

"It is her—Revy Two Hands."

"You can see her guns."

"Whatever happened to her?"

She snorts audibly and knocks back a shot of Bacardi. "Good fucking question."

"That can't be her," one of the voices chimes in, and Revy can hear the cheap red lipstick in her shrill tone. "She doesn't have that guy with her."

The comment makes her bristle instantly. Her fingers twitch instinctively for the trigger. Even if the years have mellowed her temper enough to know better than to shoot up the Yellow Flag for less—which she has—, there can always be room for exceptions.

"Right, that businessman—."

"The Japanese guy—,"

"The cute one."

That's the it, the point where her glass clinks back on the bar top and Bao gives her a warning glare, his mouth loaded with the threats of violence he'll impose on her if she shoots anymore holes in the joint.

Only she doesn't reach for her Berettas. She laughs mirthlessly, for the spectators to hear, then slaps a couple of dollar bills on the counter and takes the rest of the bottle with her. It's not like Bao can do anything besides bitch at her for it, but then what else would be new?

She strides past the group, who all silence hastily and cower and stare at her with gaping eyes. One hand, the one that's not holding the bottle, rests imposingly on the grip of a gun, a silent warning just in case any of them have any more pointless words to throw in her direction while she leaves alone.

She misses having a drinking partner.

Which really, really sucks.

;;

Outside the bar is less appealing than inside. The night air is thick and humid; the kind that wraps around her bones and is somehow as chilled as it is suffocating. It envelops her entire body and makes her feel too heavy to move. She lights a cigarette and trudges through it anyhow.

It's late and she's tired, which she thinks is fucking hilarious.

She remembers a few years back, the night would've barely begun. Right now, she'd probably be getting hammered and playing cards at the church with Eda until one would pull a gun on the other, and in the morning they'd wake up on the altar, the sanctuary smelling of spilled rum and gunpowder, laugh it off, and plan to do it all again next week.

Or, she thinks bitterly, she would've been somewhere else, with someone else.

The cute one.

The girl's words echo in her mind, swirling around with the alcohol. She can just picture Rock's face if he'd been there—a blush blooming on his cheeks as he tries to play it off and on a good night, she berates him for it or on a bad night, she draws a gun on the poor girl.

On second thought, she doesn't want to think about it.

Instead, she wanders the streets of Roanapur, drinking Bacardi straight from the bottle, daring anyone who crosses her path to say anything.

It's been like this a lot lately.

The Lagoon crew's been out of the game for a while. First it was no new jobs, then it was new players who came along with new skills, and suddenly the four of them were obsolete. Or she was, at least.

Because Dutch had been working in Roanapur for years before Lagoon, and Benny has his computers, they're both valuable assets to anyone looking for skill.

Revy was only ever a gun (and there's no excuse for a fool with a gun).

Dutch still checks on her every few days, mostly out of habit. He makes sure she's not drinking more than eating. Which she is, of course, but one day she'll appreciate him for trying, maybe.

Secretly, Revy would kind of like to get old. Dutch reminds her of that sometimes, just being there with his wise words and taciturn demeanor. Not that Dutch is old. Just old-er. Just, probably, older than she'll ever be.

And yeah, it's kind of sad because Lagoon was the closest thing she's ever had to a family. A good one, at least. Marginally good.

The roaring drone of water falling pulls her out of her goddamn head for a second. She finds herself beside the fountain at the plaza, the one with the statue of a half-clothed woman posing valiantly at the top. Or she would be valiant if she weren't smeared with seagull shit, dripping down the sides of her head in white tracks.

Next to the noose out front, it's a damn good metaphor for the city.

Mostly, Dutch asks about Rock.

Good, she thinks. Great; she's thinking about Rock again.

And she thinks, why should she care how he's doing? Rock took his puppet master hero complex straight to the top and is pulling so many strings she's lost track. She's done her time worrying over him, keeping his evident death wish from ever actually claiming his life, never expecting anything in return for years only for him to forget that he would've died a hundred times already if it weren't for her.

Rock doesn't need her anymore.

Fuck Rock, she spits at Dutch through a mouthful of bitterness.

She could've left him in Japan—she should've. Let him life a nice quiet life in the suburbs with a pretty white-collar rich wife named Sakura and have white-collar rich kids that complain and cry all the time. Then maybe one day in fifty years, he can come back to hell and leave a marigold on her grave and see if she cares—

And then her bare knee is crashing into the stone edge of the fountain and, fuck, that hurts.

She glares down at it. The skin is scraped raw, already turning purple at the edges and red in the middle. A teardrop bead of blood oozes down over the white scar on her shin, from the sword, from Japan, from a lifetime ago.

Good, she thinks. Great.

She wishes he were here.

;;

Revy doesn't know what it is—the humid air, the Bacardi, or the stinging ache in her knee—that puts her on autopilot, the lights of the city blurring in a haze until she's shoving open the door of Rock's permanent motel room and stumbling over the threshold.

Why is she doing this why is she bothering what's the fucking point—

"When are you gonna lock your fucking door, Rock?" she sighs. There is no bite to her words.

Light from the hallway cuts across the floor between her heavy boots. The thin beam traces a line across the floor and the paper and empty beer cans. It climbs up the side of the bed. And it ends, slicing Rock's face in two.

One brown eye, the one in the light, opens sluggishly.

The door closes and the beam is gone.

"Revy?"

Rock is sprawled out on his stomach on the bed in the middle of the room.

She gives no response because he doesn't deserve one and also because she wouldn't have one anyway. Instead, the sound that fills the room is her heavy boots clunking on the floor where she drops them by the door. Her holster is next, shrugged off of her tired shoulders. Her berettas scrape along the floor before coming to rest by the edge of the bed.

Rock's eyes are on her, she can tell, level with her thighs and the bruise on her knee.

The now empty bottle hits the floor and then she is flopping down on top of him.

The bed creaks.

Rock gives a soft grunt on impact but doesn't complain. Good. She wouldn't care. Instead, he mumbles, "hi", voice muffled in between the pillow and his partner. Ex-partner? Ex-parter-ex-best-friend-ex-something.

There's another lag before a response, the sound of their mismatched breathing filling the room instead. And then-"Fuck you, Rock."

Then: "Hi."

She thinks it's funny, vaguely, how little the room has changed. The Hawaiian shirt she bought him all those years ago hanging on the wall still (why would he keep it, why is it still fucking here), in the midst of his hastily scribbled notes in his cramped business man writing.

Her cheek is sweating where it's pressed into the crook of his neck and Rock probably can't breathe and somehow it's all more comfortable this way.

The things she wants to say sting the back of her throat worse than rum ever could, but she can't even get the words right in her head, and god, it's late, and finally all that comes out is-

"You should've left."

Rock sighs. "Revy..."

Because she's said it so many times. It's something safe, something easy, something that comes spilling out of her mouth with no effort every time she has a feeling she doesn't want to have, doesn't know how to deal with.

"You never shoulda come here, Rock."

The words are weighted down with exhaustion.

How many years has it been?

Rock gives a kind of quiet laugh and replies, "You keep saying that, but I'm still here."

(I'm right here where I'm sitting, Revy-).

Rock says, "I'm not anywhere else."

He squirms under her, and she gets the message, and shifts her weight onto her forearms and knees enough to let him roll onto his back before collapsing back down again. His chin rests on the top of her head and she can feel his pulse on her cheek and it's familiar.

It's an unwelcome thought that goes involuntarily through her mind, of all the times the two of them have been in this same position, which isn't that many, but enough to make the feeling of his hand on her back a comforting one. The time she wants to think of the least, the last night in Japan, in a shitty motel, her skewered leg bleeding on the sheets.

"You wouldn't fucking need a gun there," she thinks, out loud, without realizing.

"Maybe not," Rock sighs again in that tired, tired voice. "But I need one here."

Her gloved hand tightens in the fabric at the collar of his shirt.

Maybe she's kind of bitter, maybe he should act like he still needs her if apparently they both know he does, maybe he should come back down from the top, maybe she should tell him this.

Rock says, "I'm still a bullet, aren't I?"

The things she's wanted to say die in her throat.

#black lagoon #rock x revy #fanfiction #revy x rock #yes guys i'm still writing fan fiction i know i know i know #but im actually so happy with this #and i have so man feeeeelings about black lagoon STILL #and this is a good compilation of a lot of them #and finally getting some of my head canons about revy's inner thoughts out there #otp: the one that let me in #my writing

52 notes · View notes

kltiago · 7 years

Photo

Talent: Diary of an Heiress - Yeah I Love Your Hustle Baby

My eyes flew open the next day at 8:56am. I normally didn’t wake up before nine, but all the excitement of meeting with Larissa messed with my internal clock.

I couldn’t wait! It was a little overwhelming to think that today was the day my life was going to change. So there I was, lying in bed staring up at my ceiling while I considered what to do.

Should I call Larissa and make an appointment to come by, or should I just go over? She did write her address on her card… I tossed my covers away and decided to get dressed. I was going to go see Larissa right away. Why wait getting my life on track? I had been waiting so long already. And by the time I finished getting ready her office would probably have been open for a while.

I hummed to myself happily while I showered. I could feel it in my bones: today something great was going to happen. After all of those failed auditions my career wasfinally starting to go somewhere. Today: a new manager. Tomorrow: an Oscar.

Okay, maybe I was getting a little ahead of myself: by this point I would have to wait for next Oscar season, but how could I not feel so excited about this? If you weren’t thinking positively when you were constantly hearing ‘no’, which you interpreted as ‘you’re ugly, fat and untalented’, eventually a girl might turn suicidal. I had been waiting to get famous since I was three years old, hadn’t it been long enough?

But perhaps caution should be taken? A girl randomly offering to be your manager did seem a little too good to be true, but… I really wanted it to be true. So I ignored the voice in my head named ‘Harsh Truths’ and pushed forward.

I slipped into some dark, skinny 7 For All Mankind jeans and a white Hanes tank top. According to Tyra Banks, simple is the route models should go regarding castings. Or ‘go-sees’ as they’re called in the business, which I learned through watching at least seventeen seasons of America’s Next Top Model.

I figured I would dress similarly, that way I could show Larissa and whomever she worked with that I could fit into any mold they wanted. That’s what makes a good actress: versatility. I didn’t want to be too overpowering walking in wearing Prada. I wasn’t Meryl Streep. …Yet.

When I finished putting my makeup on, enough to make my skin flawless, but not too much that you could tell I was wearing makeup, it was only 9:23 am. Well, that was fast.

I had never gotten ready so quickly before. More effects of my bursting excitement, which was nuts and very telling of how serious I was about getting famous. I wondered if I should do something to pass some more time before I drove over… but I actually had nothing to do other than go see Larissa, so I was drawing a blank on possible activities.

After flipping through the last two months of Vogue, re-straightening my hair and eating an apple for sustenance, I checked the clock once again: 9:38am.

I leaned against the refrigerator with my name on it and sighed from my gut, letting the stainless steel cool my nerves. How come time moves so slowly when you don’t want it to? Whenever I was at Hot Yoga on Thursdays, it was over before I could master the vasisthasana advanced left pose. I decided not to wait and headed out: I would drive really slowly.

I went out to my garage and got into my black BMW. My Range Rover wasn’t right for this sort of meeting. I wanted to seem like a professional, not a rap artist. I input the address into my navigation system and checked myself in the rearview mirror as I waited for the automatic garage door to open.

The whole drive I was singing at the top of my lungs to Lady GaGa’s The Fame album, chosen since I was currently on my way to super stardom. The computerized voice of my navigation system would randomly notify me of turns amid GaGa’s smooth vocals.

I was so lost in the music I didn’t even notice that the longer I drove, the sketchier the neighborhood became. I swerved to avoid a homeless man pushing a cart full of discarded objects down the middle of the road and he flipped me off, calling me a ‘Scaliwag’. I decided to turn down my stereo and take a look around.

To my immediate right was a broken down shack covered in random graffiti that I would have assumed was very abandoned, but the new car in the driveway told me that it probably wasn’t. To my left was a house with three pit bulls chained in the front yard and a sign that read, ‘Polise: I DARE You!’

How did they misspell police when it was written on the side of their cars…? Where was I? Did I put the address in wrong? I took out Larissa’s card and compared it to the navigation display to make sure. Nope, this was the right street…

Finally I pulled up to the apartment complex my navigation told me was Larissa’s: definitely not what I was expecting. I thought she would work in a fancy office made of glass with minimalist architecture and a fountain of constantly running water that made a lot of noise but I didn’t know where the fountain was. This appeared to be some kind of subsidized housing. Not very ‘Hollywood’.

Maybe Larissa gave me the wrong address? Maybe she had been joking about being my manager and this was some cruel prank she decided to play on an out-of-work actress? But why would she do that? She had said I was pretty…

I parked my car along the curb between an old Volkswagen with a large crack spanning the entire length of the windshield and a rusted navy Honda with a silver passenger door. As I walked up to the front of the building I glanced from side to side, taking in my surroundings. There was nobody in the streets, which only made me uneasier. It was like everyone was hiding from something… or someone…

I inspected the names on the buzzers and came across an A. Healy. Larissa’s last name was Healy so I assumed that would be her or someone she lived with, maybe her sister? I hit the buzzer and waited for a reply.

“Hello?” came Larissa’s groggy voice.

“Hi, um, this is Divinity, we met last night?”

“Oh,” said Larissa, sounding a bit surprised. “Okay… one second. …I’ll be right out.”

I probably should have called first. This was dumb: I was coming off like such an eager idiot. Oh well, too late now.

A few moments later, Larissa came down the stairs in the lobby. Her dark hair was up in a top knot and she had on a pair of gray baggy sweatpants, a tight-fitting Pink Floyd t-shirt and a beat up pair of Uggs. Not exactly what I had pictured her to be wearing at work.

“Hey,” I smiled widely as she opened the door for me.

“Hello. I wish you’d called first I would have mentioned… all this,” Larissa coughed. “Is that your car?” she motioned to my BMW.

“Uh, yeah it is. …Why?”

“You can’t leave it like that, we’ll cover it with the tarp.”

“The… tarp?” what was she talking about?

“Yeah, someone will definitely steal a car that nice around here.”

“Oh, well I have an alarm system.”

Larissa scoffed. “In this neighborhood, if your alarm is going off, it’s already too late.” She walked past me and headed around to the back of the building, motioning for me to stay put. Moments later she returned holding an old torn up tent under her arm.

“We’re covering my car with that?” I asked nervously. What if it hurt my car? Or got it dirty? What was happening?

“Relax, the inside is totally clean. Unless you want to just risk it and let Maurice have a go,” Larissa warned. I didn’t know who Maurice was, but I understood by her tone he was someone to be avoided.

After helping Larissa cover my car with the tarp, I watched as she armed an intricately designed defense system involving strings and a bell that attached to a second floor apartment window.

“Is that… your apartment?” I asked as she finished up. I had no idea what else to say in the moment. What did one say after watching a girl camouflage their car like you were behind enemy lines in Afghanistan?

“Yeah, let’s get inside, I don’t like hanging around out here for too long.”

“Why not?” I asked. Larissa shrugged in response. There was a loud popping sound that caused me to hop into the air like a nervous cat and bump into Larissa, who remained perfectly still. “Did a car backfire?”

“Probably not,” she held the door for me to go inside.

Judging from the lobby I made the assumption there was no building superintendent or if there was, that he rarely paid attention to his duties. There were more cracked floor tiles spread out along the ground than there were intact. The tacky floral wallpaper was yellowed with age and had begun to peel and tear at random places. Fluorescent light bulbs either flickered weakly, didn’t light up at all or were missing from their sockets altogether.

It was becoming more and more obvious to me that Larissa was hiding something. Actually it was obvious when I had pulled up to this Hellhole, but now it was like a neon sign was flashing the words: ‘Crack Den’.

“Larissa, what’s going on?” I finally worked up the nerve to ask.

“Let’s talk inside, people in this building are fucked.” She led me up to apartment 203 and we paused in the hallway as she unlocked the door.

I noticed while waiting there was a dark stain on the carpet in front of the apartment across the hall. It disappeared under the door and resembled dried blood. And judging by the size of it, whoever was bleeding probably did not survive.

I swallowed the thoughts of any murder that may or may not have taken place there and followed Larissa inside. She armed the seven different locks protecting the front door from potential intruders.

As I stood in her small one-person apartment all I could think about was the homeless shelter my mother brought me to one Christmas when I didn’t get what I had asked for and she wanted to teach me a lesson.

I had asked for a pony, which I already had back on the ranch in Texas, but I wanted one in New York too. In the city, like, inside of our penthouse. True, it was a little unreasonable, but this girl at my school got a giant Tibetan Mastiff dog for $2500 and I wanted to one-up the bitch. I complained to my mother and she quickly gave me a lesson in humility, which was why I always tipped so much.

“I thought you were some big-wig manager with tons of connections,” I said noticing a Hello Kitty poster hung up on the wall next to a calendar of shirtless firemen.

“Those belong to my roommate,” Larissa explained following my eyes. “And I’m not technically a big manager, but I will be. And I do have a lot of connections, so let’s agree to disagree?”

“You have a roommate?”

“Hello,” a man poked his head out from around the corner and startled me slightly, but only because of the drama I had been through getting up there. His shaggy black hair hung in his dark brown eyes. “I’m Roger. Doing some dishes; I’ll see you in a second.” I gave a small wave and he disappeared back behind the wall.

“So last night when I met you in the club and you were all dressed up, you were… pretending?” I gave Larissa a worried glance.

“Well, I mean, this is Hollywood!” Larissa exclaimed. “If you aren’t somebody, you’re nobody, and nobody works with nobody. You’ve got to fake it ‘til you make it, don’t you know how this place works? Hilary Swank lived in her car when she first got here: now look at her. This is the land where one day you’re homeless and the next you’re on everybody’s television: isn’t that what brought you here?”

She was kind of right. True she didn’t have an office with an invisible fountain or any real qualifications, but neither did I, so who was I to be picky? Despite her current scrub-attire, I knew she was capable of pulling it together, and she did sound like she knew what she was doing.

“I suppose you’re right,” I said with a slight shrug. “…So you’ve worked with actresses before?” Larissa’s roommate Roger emerged from the kitchen and gave an amused scoff.

“Oh, Larissa has worked with some very interesting characters.” Larissa narrowed her eyes at him, shooting out icy blue daggers, and motioned for me to sit in one of her two loveseats. She and Roger sat down across from me on the couch, both crossing one leg over the other.

“The people I’ve worked with in the past have often turned out to be… disappointing,” Larissa replied.

“How so?”

“Well there was Maggie,” said Roger, “who went nuts and is now checked into a mental hospital in Silver Lake.”

“She did too much acid one night and had a breakdown,” Larissa explained. “Don’t worry, that won’t happen to you. You don’t do drugs do you, Divinity?”

“No, not at all,” I said quickly. “Like, I’ve been to parties, but I don’t do drugs, I’m not into drugs.”

“Okay well you don’t need to be a nun, just avoid the hard shit, you don’t seem like your body-mass could handle it.”

“Thanks?”

“Then there was Lucille, I loved Lucille, she was definitely my favorite,” said Roger.

“What happened to Lucille?” I asked.

“Lucille wanted to be a singer. She could dance but she only had an okay voice and face, and she didn’t even know how to write songs, so… it didn’t really work out for her,” said Larissa.

“She was such a good time though, probably a bit too much. One time she called Larissa to come pick her up from a rave somewhere and when we arrived, she was only wearing her bra and some heels,” Roger grinned ear to ear as he retold this tale. “She was hilarious. I would never suggest for anybody to act like that, but if you’re going to, at least own it. And she owned it. Owned it.”

“Where’s Lucille now?” I wondered.

“The Diamond Kitten by the airport. You'll find her using the stage name ‘Galore’,” said Larissa.

Well that was disheartening. So far, Larissa’s past clients were now a stripper and a mental patient. “Have you had any successful clients?”

“There was that Garth guy, and, um, Marni?” offered Roger.

“Garth is hardly what I would call successful,” Larissa rolled her eyes. “He came here to be an actor but now he’s regional manager at Best Buy.”

“Key words being: ‘regional manager’. Don’t sell yourself short,” Roger nudged her.

“And what about Marni?” I asked, hopeful that maybe she was now somehow involved in the entertainment industry.

“She wanted to be a model but got fat. But not, like, real-people-fat, Hollywood-fat. So she opened her own bakery in Venice. Beach, not Italy. She’s definitely my most successful past client, at least monetarily,” said Larissa. “I get free cupcakes if you’re interested?”

“Maybe later,” I replied unenthusiastically. I could feel my face morphing into it’s obviously disappointed state, but I couldn’t do anything to fix it. I had hoped Larissa would be able to help make me a famous celebrity, not a chunky dessert-chef. All of the energizing excitement from this morning seemed totally wasted.

I should have realized earlier that a girl offering to be your manager at a club was probably not the most legit of business interactions. I should have listened to that Harsh Truths bitch.

I could tell Larissa was noticing my disappointment and I tried to think back to one of Madame Andronotta’s etiquette classes on faking enthusiasm, but I was too depressed to follow through.

I would be a horrible stripper. What would my name even be? Starlet? That would be too depressing. And I couldn’t bake, so that wasn’t even an option. Maybe I could start selling microwaves with Daddy? …Kill me.

“Listen,” Larissa uncrossed her legs and leaned forward: this must have been her serious tone. “I get this probably seems a little less-than-ideal, but I’m going to be honest with you Divinity: I’m confident you will be different.” A ginger-colored cat hopped up onto the arm of my chair and smelled my face. I could tell Larissa was annoyed by the timing of this sudden development but she did her best to ignore it.

“How? You don’t even really know anything about me,” I said, ignoring the cat that dropped silently to the ground and disappeared behind the couch.

“Fair enough,” she replied, “but I have a hunch. So how about we get to know you and we can see if that hunch is correct? So tell us about yourself.”

“Okay. Well, I’m from Texas, but I grew up mostly in New York. My dad owns a company, so he moved us out there so he could be close to the head office. I didn’t go to college, but not because I’m stupid or something: I knew I wanted to be an actress and it’s not like you need to go to school for this. I’ve done acting classes, though.”

“What company does your dad own?” Roger asked curiously.

“Sanders International.”

“Wait… like… the refrigerators?” Roger clarified, his jaw dropping with Larissa’s.

“We make, like, stoves and blenders and other stuff also,” I replied.

“Holy fuck, you’re an heiress,” Larissa sat back in awe. The way both her and Roger watched me you’d think I’d grown another head.

“Yeah, but you knew I was well-off when you saw my watch at the club, remember?”

“I knew you had money, not that you’re fucking Paris Hilton,” Larissa gave Roger wide-eyes and he immediately returned them. “Okay, listen up Divinity, you are officially my client, I don’t care, you don’t have a choice. I am 100% confident I can make you famous, and at the same time, make myself a serious force to be reckoned with in this industry: I’m not gonna sit here and pretend like I’m some charitable saint.”

“You sound very sure of yourself,” I said. To be honest, it felt amazing to have Larissa be so excited about me. Not like all of the casting people I had met who saw me as another blonde girl. This was how I wished everyone would react to my presence: awe and excitement.

“You’re basically halfway famous already, now you need the right person–me–to help really get your name out there. I know exactly how to sell you to studios.”

“How to ‘sell’ me? I’m not a prostitute,” I joked.

“You’d be surprised. In this city, it’s kind of similar,” said Larissa. “But first things first: you said last night you had a manager but you were thinking of changing. Did you sign a contract with him or something? Because that is a problem I would need to start dealing with right away.”

“No, no contract,” I replied. “I met him on Craigslist, we communicate through email.”

“Stop right there, has he been inside of your house? Does he know where you live?” Larissa demanded, a rush of nerves running through me.

“No, we only contact each other through email, it’s actually sort of weird,” I replied.

“Sort of weird?” Larissa repeated, “Okay, cut contact with him immediately: we obviously need to teach you about Internet predators.” She smacked Roger across the shoulder, scoffed and pointed at me. “This bitch. She asked me earlier why I was putting the tarp over her BMW because it has an alarm.” The two laughed with each other for a moment and Larissa let out a happy sigh.

“I also have a Range Rover with automatic engine stop when you drive a certain distance away from the keys, so would that need the tarp?” I countered. Larissa waved a hand dismissively.

“Girl, you don’t need all that fancy security shit for a Range Rover in these parts. People will assume that it’s a drug dealer’s car and keep their distance.”

“Or a pimp’s,” Roger added.

“Oh yeah, do not under any circumstances touch a pimp’s car. Especially that Eddie guy who lives down the block,” said Larissa. “Do you have rims?”

“Rims?” I asked, “like the silver things on your wheels? They came with the car…”

“Well every pimp starts somewhere, maybe they’ll think you’re new.”

“I thought it made me look like a rapper or like a rapper’s girlfriend,” I suggested.

“Everyone on this block is a rapper or a rapper’s girlfriend and not a single one of them can afford a Range Rover,” Larissa replied.

“I thought that pimp’s name was Teddy? The one down the block?” Roger asked.

“Maybe. I only know that you should not go near him; I’ve heard some stories. I’m not going to go into detail, which, as Roger will attest to, means they are gruesomebecause I do not have boundaries, but suffice it to say: he will cut you.”

“It’s true, she doesn’t have any boundaries… at all. Like, meth would be considered a boundary for Larissa,” said Roger.

“For example, if there is an earthquake,” Larissa continued, “and you feel yourself falling towards Eddie/Teddy’s car; you jump the other direction, because he will kill you.”

“But there was an earthquake, that’s not your fault. That’s so illogical,” I said, a little irritated by the ridiculous laws of the ‘streets’, or lack thereof.

“Pimps don’t know logic,” said Roger.

“No, hookers don’t know logic, pimps don’t know compassion,” Larissa corrected.

“Oh, yeah you’re right, I switched it, and drug dealers don’t know their own potential.”

“Yes, that’s correct,” she nodded.

“Their own potential?” I asked.

“Listen, drug dealers are entrepreneurs, they just happen to also be criminals. But you show me a great businessman that isn’t. …Obviously not your father, I’m sure,” said Larissa. “I’m generalizing.”

“Of course…” I replied. “So, off topic from pimps: what’s next? Career-wise, I mean. If you’re my new manager you should know what I should do to, you know… get famous?”

“Well there’s not really anything more we can do today,” said Larissa. “I need to start getting your name out into the public domain: I’ll contact some people and set up some social media things for you but other than that, you should sit tight until I call you. Do you have headshots? I need to show people what they’re paying for.”

“Wow this really is like prostitution,” I said.

“You have no idea,” Larissa said suggestively. “So, yeah, let’s uncover your car from the tarp and you can get back to your… whatever it is extremely rich girls do during the day. And email me those headshots.”

I gave my phone number to my two new friends and followed Larissa back out to my car. We disarmed her security measures and I sat in the driver’s seat while I watched her walk back into her complex. I wanted to make sure that nobody killed her between now and me getting famous, which might actually be more of an issue than I realized considering the area she was living.

I drove back home, without putting on any music; too lost in my own thoughts. Images of Larissa succeeding and my face on the front page of papers, or watching myself on television filled up every corner of my brain. And mostly I was thinking about my phone, and when it would start ringing with news about my future fame. Because, despite the fact I was an ‘extremely rich girl’ who could technically do whatever she wanted: this was the only thing that I really cared about.

This was the change my life needed.

#KL Tiago #writing #fiction #Young Adult Fiction #Young Adult #Indie Author #KDP #Kindle Publishing #Fame #Heiress #Famous #Celebrity Life #Celebrity #Hollywood #Talent Diary of an Heiress

0 notes

weditchthemap · 5 years

Text

The Ultimate Memphis Weekend: A Guide to BBQ, Blues, and Booze with Photos

INTRODUCTION TO MEMPHIS

Memphis is city that doesn’t get much press, but its gritty charm is hard to find elsewhere. I may be a tad biased as I used to live here—that still doesn’t change the fact that 7 years have passed and I now get to share my love of Memphis with my wife.

Soul food, blues music, and racial tensions have created a complex cultural narrative that is best understood by diving in head first. Below is a greatly abridged historical timeline I made emphasizing large developments in and around Memphis Tennessee.

ARRIVE FRIDAY NIGHT

After settling in your accommodation head out to Beale Street to catch some live Blues Music—feel free to stick your head in and choose a vibe that suits you. There are dozens of restaurants on and around Beale Street serving a variety of cuisine though you’ll mostly find soul food. See the bottom of the post for some Beale Street recommendations.

If you have the stamina after a day of travel and listening to some electric blues head over to Earnestine and Hazel’s on South Main St (pictures below). This local gem perpetually seems to stay under the radar despite its infamous history. The building has, in part, served as a brothel as recent as the late 1990s. You can order cheeseburgers and cheap beers until 3 in the morning while exploring the eerie rooms upstairs—some even come with a haunted backstory. If you’re interested in the history of E&H please click here.

SATURDAY

Stop by a local coffee roaster in the Cooper Young, Midtown area of Memphis for a coffee and small bite to eat. Java Cabana has a cozy intimate seating area serving up some baked sweets and affordable coffees with free refills. If you want more of a standard breakfast selection then head over to Otherlands Coffee Bar, which houses multiple rooms and contains a larger but equally affordable food menu.

Walk around the trendy, yet unpretentious, Cooper Young intersection then head back downtown and check out The Peabody Hotel to watch the famous ducks waddle down from the roof, out of the elevator, and into the lobby’s main fountain at 11:00am (arrive early to get a spot). Google “Peabody Ducks” and you’ll understand what I mean or click here for a short video.

After watching the Peabody Ducks take a bath in a fancy fountain take a walk down South Main Street and then Front Street to see some of the city’s oldest buildings, which have been transformed into art galleries, shops and restaurants. You can visit the world famous Gus’s Fried Chicken—hold off on their sides as all the locals know that they just don’t come close to their fantastic chicken thighs. Get your fried chicken to go and enjoy it with a tasting at Old Dominick Distillery across the street.

You can take a stroll in Tom Lee Park, which sits along the Mississippi River, and is home to the world’s largest BBQ pork cook-off competition. A 5-minute drive from downtown takes you to Mud Island, a peninsula in the middle of the Mississippi River. You can park on the main street and walk among the quaint upscale neighborhood before heading back into the city by 2pm.

“Mud Island's main draw is Riverwalk, an outdoor, 2,000-foot-long scale model of the lower thousand miles of the Mississippi. Every sandbar, oxbow, and topographic contour is faithfully reproduced in cement. The river -- a little stream -- flows lazily south past minimalist cities and bridges rendered in steel.” Roadside America (click here for detail on the Riverwalk)

BBQ Tasting Tour 2-6pm: As you probably already know Memphis is world-renowned for its BBQ so do yourself a favor and sample the wide variety they have to offer. Where to start with so many options? Sign up for a BBQ tour to sample Memphis’s best variety of pork and beef barbecue preparations. Tastin’ ‘Round Town tours will take you to 6 of the best BBQ joints in the downtown and midtown area (Central BBQ, A&R BBQ, and The Bar-B-Q Shop just to name a few) . You’ll sample dry rubs to die for, falling off the bone ribs, barbecue nachos, and even barbecue spaghetti. Make sure you come hungry since you’ll spend 4 hours eating food.

End your night with drinks and live music at the Mollie Fontaine Lounge. This old Victorian mansion, located a between midtown and downtown, has been converted into a saloon with retro arm chairs, chic chandeliers, and multiple seating areas. Sip on cocktails and enjoy their soul food while listening to the baby grand being played in this hidden gem—a vintage venue in Victorian Village.

SUNDAY

Brunch Tasting Tour—Make sure to save an appetite for City Tasting Tours, which starts at noon and takes you to 3 local brunch hotspots along S Main St. Owned and operated by Cristina McCarter, a Memphis native and former food blogger, this tour takes you to three local restaurants where you’ll sample a variety of southern brunch fare. Cristina is passionate about finding and sharing her love of local dishes. The tour includes savory southern comfort food and your choice of a mimosa or Bloody Mary at each stop. You’ll try different preparations of grits, poached eggs topped with blackened cat-fish drizzled with homemade hollandaise accompanied by a chorizo scramble, and crispy chicken and waffles. Of course everything comes with a Memphis twist—pecan butter and pimento cheese, anyone? Fill your belly and satisfy your soul in great company on this 2-hour tour.

Civil Rights Museum—The tour ends next to the National Civil Rights Museum, so it’s a great time to check out this historically significant site. This museum chronicles the civil rights movement in the US with emotional and informative exhibits. It’s a simultaneously powerful and sobering experience to wander the museum and learn about the struggle for civil rights. The museum resides inside the preserved Lorraine Motel—the locale where Dr. Martin Luther King Junior was assassinated. The former boarding house where the killer resided is open and part of the museum.

NOTABLE MENTIONS

EATS:

Kooky Canucks, as seen on the Man Vs. Food TV Show, has gained fame for the notorious Kookamonga burger, but the menu stands on its own. Specializing in generous portions of bar food and comfort food the owner’s personalize the menu with a “kooky” Canadian twist. Cheese curds or poutine, anyone?

At Kooky Canuck's there’s a burger for everyone—maple syrup candied bacon, fried green tomatoes, heaping portions of meat—pick your fancy. If you’re craving something on the lighter side you’ll be pleased by the extensive salad menu.

Don't miss the deserts! The skillet desserts arrive table-side sizzling in their caste iron pans. The divine fresh from-the-oven smell will empower you to devour the dessert no matter how full your belly. Striking the perfect balance of gooey and crispy, the cookie skillet is heavenly.

Flight is the place to eat if you’re looking for upscale dining but always seem to be asking your friend for a taste of their food. This intimate restaurant on Main St offers fabulous food in a unique way—serving almost everything on their menu in flights! Did I mention it’s rated as the #1 place to eat in Memphis?

MUSIC:

Keep a lookout for Silky O'Sullivan's when you’re on Beale Street. They have dueling pianos every night and will play whatever you ask…for a small tip. It’s a dive inside but a great place to listen to some music—if you’re into piano music that is. Order The Diver—probably the strongest drink you’ll ever have in your life—and share it 4 ways or else you won’t be able to walk to your cab.

If you want something more Memphis Blues Style then don’t miss Rum Boogie Cafe, which is just across the street from Silky O’Sullivan’s. It was my favorite place to listen to music while living in Memphis. They have bands playing every night and the environment is fabulous—famous musicians donate their guitars which hang from almost every surface inside the venue.

1 note · View note

thegrassisaalwaysgreener · 6 years

Text

Viva Las Vegas 2017

**I didn’t realize that I hadn’t posted my blog from Vegas in Oct when I posted the Palm Springs one!

Oops!

Viva Las Vegas! I was super excited to head to Vegas for the first time. I was not as stoked to be going for a work conference but hey, a trip is a trip right! I had applied for some funding to head to the Pediatric Critical Care Conference put on by name and was approved! I was getting a bit of money for work to cover some of the expenses of the trip and was excited to use this as an excuse to head to “Sin City”. I have plenty of travel points so figured I would save some money and book my flight on points (25,000 + 70$ in taxes) which worked out well. I would be flying with Air Canada which would get me more points and was a fairly decent airline. The conference was 2.5 days long and I had decided to stay an extra day and a half to explore the city a bit more. I was pretty excited because my boyfriend Alex was meeting me there for the last two days of the trip which would make it that much better! While I won’t go into too many boring details of the unimportant parts of the trip (like the conference.. kidding!) I will write a bit about the more fun events (Britney Spears DUH) and some of the must do/must see things if you haven’t been before!

Tuesday October 31st, 2017 I had a super hard time getting this shift off as many of my coworkers have kids and obviously wanted to take their kids out of Halloween but I managed to get the night off and was heading to Vegas on an evening flight. I found great prices on airport parking (airportreservations.com) where you get dropped off at the airline entrance and then you call when you land and they pick you up in your own car which is key. I as excited to use this service as I travel often for work and am always looking for the best/easies/most cost effective way to park at the airport. I was on an AC Rouge flight that had average service but was fine for the 4 or so hour flight. I landed in Vegas around 2200 or so and grabbed a Lyft to my hotel. The conference was at the Tropicana which is towards the end of the strip about a km away from the “Welcome to Vegas sign” and across from Excalibur. On the way there, I was immiediately entranced by all of the lights of the city. The driver was super kind and helpful and gave me some insider tips. The hotel was nice enough. The bottom levels were filled with people smoking, drinking and gambling, which is so bizarre to see inside. I did a bit of people watching before heading up to my room. . By the time I checked into the hotel and got unpacked, it was almost midnight and I was pooped! The room was quite spacious with a large bathroom and sitting area. I settled in and rested up before day 1 of the conference.

Wednesday November 1st, 2017 Like I previously mentioned, I won’t go into details about the conference since most people that would read this (if any one does) could care less about advances in Pediatric Critical Care. It is neat to note that a coworker of mine who works mostly in London was also at the conference with her coworkers. It was nice to have a familiar face to hang out with. We had a lengthy lunch break where I did some errands up the strip and met them for lunch at the food court in the MGM. The afternoon of the conference went by super slowly. Or at least that’s how it felt because I was super excited to be seeing Britney spears in the evening. An ex-coworker of mine from Sinai had moved to Vegas a few years ago and was a huge Britney Fan! I told him I was heading down for the conference and we made plans to go see Britney. I was meeting him a bit before the concert but had a few hours to kill before then. I wandered up the strip taking in all the sights. I enjoyed a bevy (on the street which is so weird to me!) while watching the Bellagio fountains which are as magical as I was told. I met up with Liam just outside of Planet Hollywood where Britney has her residency. We grabbed a drink and caught up before the show- happy hour is even more magical in Vegas with $5 glasses of red. We were in the very front for the concert, which I was super excited about. I have loved Britney since Hit me baby One more time was a hit. I had never seen her in concert when I was young so I was super pumped about having my younger year dreams come true. Before the concert, we looked at some of her old costumes that are on display in the theatre hall. It was really cool to see these famous outfits (and how tiny they are!) During the show, we made some friends and enjoyed some drinks in collector cups right in front of the stage while dancing and singing along. While it is evident that she isn’t in her early 20s anymore, her show was amazing! She entertained us (as I doubt she actually sings any of the songs) to many of her songs from all of her albums. Her costumes were very elaborate and all of her dancers were very talented. After the show, I bid Liam adieu, grabbed some dinner and headed back to my hotel room.

Thursday November 2nd, 2017 Day 2 of the conference! Today we did some break out sessions which was neat because we got to choose the topics we learned about. The best lecture I went to was by ¬¬¬Scott DeBoer and was a jeopardy game about perils and pearls of Pediatric Emergency Medicine. For lunch, we jumped on the bus and went to a Ocean One Bar and Grille that had 4.99 lunch specials! IT was crazy. You could get pretty well anything you could think of for 4.99. We enjoyed our lunches while catching up on what sessions we went to in the am and such. Similar to the day before, the afternoon seemed to take forever. This was probably because I was super excited that Alex would be in the hotel by the time the conference was done for the day. After catching up, we headed out to enjoy Vegas at night before enjoying an AMAZING sushi dinner at Kabuto. It was a traditional meal that included hand made sushi that you ate the moment the chef was done rolling it. We had an an appetizer and sake along with a variety of sashimi and sushi pieces that were chosen by the sushi chef based on our preferences. We ate a lot of tuna. The meal was delicious and worth every penny. We grabbed a Lyft back towards the main strip and enjoyed wandering around a few of the hotels. My favourites were the painted ceilings of the Venetian along with the beautiful flower displays in the Wynn. Alex loves the Aria complex and we spent a while enjoying the complex. We both love NYC (as evident in one of my last posts) so we spent quite some time wandering around New York New York before heading back to the hotel for the night. On our way up to our room, we grabbed our fresh, warm (and free!) cookies that are provided to each guest before Alex tried his luck on some slots. While I am not a bigger gambler, it is pretty neat to watch others gamble. I wish I knew how to play the card games better so I would enjoy it more.

Friday November 3rd, 2017 Today was the last day of the conference! Alex did some exploring and errand running while I spent the morning in the Conference. Of course it was the best breakfast (breakfast burritos) and they ran out by the time I got there! There wasn’t a ton of new learning this morning but it was still a great experience. I made my way to the Cosmo where we were having lunch. We had heard about the amazing buffet with bottomless drinks at the Wicked Spoon and were really looking forward to it. For $50 each, we had 2 hours at the buffet with unlimited Mimosas, Bloody Marys and beers. The food was absolutely amazing. There were some very “gourmet” choices along with a wide variety of breakfast and lunch foods. We definitely ate way too much but were very glad we checked it out. After being sufficiently stuffed, we wandered down the strip and checked out some of the hotels we hadn’t yet. We visited the Flamingoes at Flamingo and enjoyed the Bellagio Fountains again. I loved the botanical conservatory in the Bellagio! It was so beautiful! We wandered around the Park promenade before heading back to New York New York for the Zumanity Show! We knew we wanted to see a Cirque show but couldn’t decide which one. The gentleman said that while O! is super popular, his favourite was Zuamnity. We are pretty breezy and so though, hey why not! The show did not disappoint! It was pretty bizarre and almost raunchy at times but we both really enjoyed it. There was some awesome acrobatics and hilarious costumes. If there is a sky wheel in a city, I HAVE to ride it! I love seeing cities from all different vantage points. I prefer to see the city at sunset or later since the lights usually make the city look that much more magical. The High Roller is the largest observation wheel with 28 pods that can hold 40 passengers each. It is 550 feet tall. Alex and I were lucky enough to have the whole pod to ourselves which was super fun. The 30-minute or so ride was awesome and gave us the best view of the city. I took tons of photos (shocking!) of all of the amazing lights and colours of the city. After the Wheel, we stopped and sat at one of the smaller fountains in the area and grabbed some pizza at Flour and Barley and a beer.

Since we were heading home after our day trip tomorrow, we made sure to pack up and get prepped for a busy last day (and a very early morning!)

Saturday November 4th, 2017 After about 4 hours of sleep (so much to do, so little time), we were up bright and early to get picked up for our guided tour of the Grand Canyon. We were being picked up around 0600 en route to the Grand Canyon. We took a big tour bus filled with tourists ont his adventure because we figured it was easier than renting our own car. I think this is definitely something that can be done on your own and it allows for different stops along the way. We are glad we took the bus, since neither one of us felt much like driving several hours each way into the desert. Our tour guide took us onto Highway 93 and discussed info about the three main cities in the Valley and about the mountains all around us. Sadly, I slept the majority of the drive so didn’t really get a great deal of learning in . I did learn that a lot of the land in the desert (especially the Mojave) used to be ranches. We drove through Boulder City and over the Hoover Dam. We got a quick look of Lake Mead as well. We also saw a few Joshua trees on the route which are pretty cool. We took Route 66 and learned about Seligman (town that was the inspiration for the movie Cars) before stopping at the Rodeo Restaurant in William, Ariona. This was the home of the Grand Canyon Train. We enjoyed a decent buffet lunch. After a bit of stretching (sitting for hours on end in a bus is challenging!) We headed back into the bus for the final bit of driving before entering the Grand Canyon National Park. As a bit of history, the Grand Canyon is a steep-sided canyon that is carved by the Colorado River. It is about at an elevation of about 800 m and is 446 km long, 29 km wide and 1,857 meters deep. It has been formed over millions of years from the cutting down of the small branches of the Colorado river and the retreatment of the cliffs. The canyon sees about 5 million visitors per year with the majority seeing the South Rim (Which is what we did). While we didn’t see much, there is a vast ecosystem in the Canyon and surrounding area. There are 5 of the 7 different life zones found in the Grand Canyon National park. The Park is home to many about 80 different mammals (most rodents and bats), 48 bird species and 41 reptile species. We did some birds but sadly, that was it. When we arrived at the Grand Canyon, we took the typical photo in front of the sign before making our way on the 2.1 mile walk. I was really taken aback at how big and beautiful the canyon was! Photos and videos do not do it justice. It truly is breath taking. I think we (lets be real, I) took 300 photos that all looked the same! The different rock colours and layers are super neat! We caught a few glimpses of the Colorado river wayyy down below. We learned more about the history and geology of the park and the rocks. We spent a couple hours at the Canyon, wandering around the path. We checked out one of the hotels and its gift shop (of course) and grabbed our necessary magnets. We saw an ice cream store, so we grabbed a scoop and enjoyed the view. We hopped back on the bus a bit before sunset. We had quite the drive back but it was a beautiful one! We saw the sunset over the desert, which was just amazing! Dinner was tacos at this random (but delicious) stop on the way beside a gas station called _ We headed back towards the city which was an enjoyable ride. We didn’t stop at the Hoover Dam (which I was slightly disappointed about) but, we did get to see it and it was definitely way bigger than had thought. We arrived back into the city in the late evening. Since we were dropped off at the hotel, we jumped in a Lyft to the airport. Both Alex and I were exhausted and I was less than thrilled with the security staff at the airport. I am not a new traveller but felt like I was being spoken to like a child, which is not something I enjoy (especially when I am tired and a bit cranky). After a rather lengthy security line, we made our way to the Maple Leaf lounge for some pre “Red Eye” showers, snacks and bevvys. Our flight home was uneventful (especially considering we both snoozed the majority of the way home). My first trip to Vegas was definitely memorable! I think that we got a lot accomplished and saw the majority of the things that I wanted to see. There were still a few shows and hotels that I would like to check out the next time and would love to just have a hang-out by the pool day. All is all, I definitely see the allure of Vegas. I think if you are big into drinking/partying and gambling, it is the place for you however there is TONS to do for everyone. I think I could’ve walked up and down the strip for the days, checking out different hotel lobbies and attractions. The next time, I would ideally prefer to stay more in the middle of the strip but do think that the Tropicana was fine for how much time I spent in the hotel.

*again, photos are not in any specific order, not too sure how to fix that :(

0 notes