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sfb123 · 3 years ago

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I’ll Be Home for Christmas

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Liam x Riley

Summary: Liam gets snowed in on a last minute trip. He will need a Christmas miracle to make it home to his family by Christmas.

Rating: PG (light innuendo)

Word Count: 1,993

A/N: This is my submission to @wackydrabbles #126 ‘I thought you had it.’ The prompt will be in bold below.

A/N 2: I wanted to post a canon Liam and Riley Christmas fic this year. I started one a couple of weeks ago, but it became a whole thing, then I thought of this cute little idea, and thought it would be perfect.

A/N 3: Thank you @txemrn for pre-reading, and fixing all of my grammar nightmares.

Tags: They’re in here, hopefully you get them, but you probably won’t. Thanks Tumblr. If you’d like to be added or removed, just let me know!

“I’m so sorry, love. I promise, we are exhausting every possible option.” Liam apologized on the other end of the phone.

It was December twenty-second, and Liam was supposed to be in the motorcade on his way back to the palace after a last minute meeting in Switzerland. Instead, he was stuck in his hotel, watching the snow fall, explaining to his wife why he may have to miss Christmas with his family.

Riley sighed; she was upset, but she knew that it was something that was out of her husband’s hands. There was no use in making him feel worse than she knew he already did. “I know, just be careful. I’d rather us miss this one Christmas than miss all of them because you did something dangerous to try to get home.”

“I know. I just wish you and Eleanor would have made the trip with me. At least we could have been stranded together.”

“Yeah, it would have been nice. I just had too much to prep for the Christmas Eve Ball. Speaking of our little Princess, do you want to tell her the bad news, or should I?” Riley asked.

“You’re going to have to deal with the aftermath. The least I could do is be the bad guy.”

Riley called Eleanor over and handed her the phone. Riley’s heart broke watching her daughter’s expression change from excitement to crestfallen once Liam gave her the news. Before long, Eleanor was handing the phone back to her mother.

“May I please go play in my room, mommy?” She asked, clearly trying to hold back her tears.

Riley gave her a sad smile, “Of course, baby girl. Are you okay?” Riley knelt down so they were face to face. Eleanor simply nodded and turned away, walking straight to her room.

Riley lifted the phone back to her ear, resuming her conversation with Liam. “Are you okay?”

She heard him sigh on the other end of the phone. “As much as I can be. I should let you go so you can go try to cheer her up.”

“Yeah, okay. Keep me updated?”

“Of course, Riley. I love you.”

“I love you too.” Riley hung up the phone and followed Eleanor to her room to begin damage control.

Between preparing for the ball, and trying to cheer up a heartbroken four year old, Riley had her hands full over the next two days. She was so busy that she hadn’t even had time to fully process her own feelings about the potential of a Christmas without Liam. She knew it wasn’t the healthiest route, but there was too much to do. She didn’t have time to break down. She was the Queen of Cordonia, and with Liam away, all eyes would be on her even more than usual.

Christmas Eve had finally arrived, and Riley was getting Eleanor ready for the ball. She pulled a sparkling green dress from Eleanor’s closet. “Alright, here it is, princess. What do you think?”

“It’s so pretty, Mommy!” Eleanor ran her fingers through the tulle skirt. “Does it look like yours?”

Riley chuckled. She loved that her daughter wanted to be just like her. “Yes, Eleanor, I have a grown up version of the same dress.” She hung the dress on the closet door and went back in to pull the accessories that Eleanor would wear that night. “Eleanor, where is your pretty red necklace? I thought you had it?”

“I let my bunny borrow it for our tea party!” Eleanor exclaimed as she ran over to the small table in her room and removed the necklace from her stuffed rabbit. “Here you go, Mommy.”

Riley took the necklace from Eleanor, and was about to say something when she heard the door to their quarters open. She placed the necklace on a nearby dresser and started walking toward the door.

“Ho ho ho!” A booming voice shouted from the living room.

“SANTA!” Eleanor shouted as she ran past Riley and out the door.

“Eleanor, wait!” Riley quickly followed her out, trying to catch her before she reached the mystery guest in their home.

When Riley got to the living room, she saw Eleanor hugging the stranger. She observed carefully as she thought about all of the ways she was going to kill Mara for this outrageous security breach.

Santa took a seat on the couch and signaled for Eleanor to join him, which she did happily. As Riley got closer, she listened to the conversation that they were having.

“Santa, did you get my list?” Eleanor asked hopefully.

“I certainly did, Eleanor. Have you been a good girl all year?”

Eleanor nodded her head. “Yes Santa, I promise I have. I have done all of my lessons, and I have listened to mommy and daddy just like I’m supposed to.”

“Wonderful, well then I think that you are going to have quite a few presents to open tomorrow.” Santa smiled at her, but noticed her gaze drop to the floor. “What’s the matter?”

“Santa, can I ask for something different for Christmas? You don’t have to bring me any of the other things I asked for.” She asked tentatively.

“Of course, Eleanor. Tell Santa what you want, and I will do my best.”

“I want my daddy to be here for Christmas. Me and Mommy miss him a lot.” She sniffled and wiped her eyes with her sleeve.

Riley’s heart sank when she heard that. Eleanor was willing to give up all of her Christmas presents just to have Liam there with them. It turned out she was just like her mother in more ways than one. She cleared her throat to get the attention of the room.

“Mommy, it’s Santa! He came to see us!” Eleanor announced as she hopped off the man’s lap.

“Eleanor, come here.” Riley ordered in a calm, yet stern tone.

Eleanor ran to her mother, wrapping her small arms around Riley. Santa stood, slowly making his way to them. As he approached, Riley looked up, her breath hitching when they locked on Santa’s baby blue eyes. Suddenly, she realized how he had gotten into her home so easily.

“Ah, Queen Riley, I’m very happy to see you.” Santa’s voice wavered slightly as he took in the queen standing before him. “I didn’t get a chance to ask you what you wanted this year.”

Riley’s eyes filled with tears. “I want the same thing as Eleanor. I just want my husband home.”

“Well, this certainly is an easy house; everyone wants the same thing,” he joked. Riley’s eyes dropped to the floor as her tears began to fall.

“Mommy, don’t cry. Santa will be able to help.” Eleanor tugged on her mother’s shirt. Riley patted Eleanor on the head.

Santa placed a finger under Riley’s chin, lifting her gaze back to his. “Now now, Riley, I know you’ve heard the song. You better watch out, you better not cry. You don’t want me to put you on the naughty list, do you?” He winked at her and grinned slyly as he wiped a tear away with his thumb.

Riley let out a tearful chuckle. “Would that really be so bad?” She arched an eyebrow.

Santa gulped audibly, a brief look of desire flashed in his eyes before he could correct his expression. They stood in silence for another moment, Riley and Santa’s eyes were locked on each other, while Eleanor looked between the two.

“Santa, will you come to our ball with us?” Eleanor asked, breaking the adults from their daze.

“Ho ho ho, thank you so much for inviting me, Eleanor.” He knelt down in front of her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Unfortunately, this is my busiest day of the year, so I really must be going. But you be a good girl, and have a wonderful time at the ball. That way I can give you all of your presents.”

“Okay, Santa! Thank you!” Eleanor wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tightly before running back to her room.

Before Riley could speak, Santa leaned in and kissed her on her cheek. “Merry Christmas, Riley.” And with that, he had left their quarters.

Riley quickly composed herself and continued preparing herself and Eleanor for the ball. Eleanor couldn’t stop going on and on about Santa’s visit, and how he had promised to bring her daddy home for Christmas. After about an hour, they were both ready to go, and walked toward the grand staircase.

When they reached the top of the staircase, Riley’s eyes scanned the foyer and immediately landed on her husband, who was locked into a conversation with Drake. She watched as Drake nudged him and nodded in her direction. He turned, his eyes locked on Riley’s, both of their smiles widening.

“Daddy!” Eleanor shouted and began barreling for the steps.

Riley quickly grabbed her arm to stop her. “Hold on, Eleanor. I know you’re excited to see Daddy, but you have to be a princess right now. That means walking nicely and holding mommy’s hand.”

“Sorry, mommy.” Eleanor apologized and took her mother’s hand.

They walked carefully down the stairs. Riley noticed Liam taking her in from head to toe, she felt her cheeks getting warm at the intensity of his gaze.

When they reached the bottom, Eleanor looked up at Riley, an unspoken question in her eyes. Riley chuckled and nodded, giving her silent permission. Eleanor dropped her mother’s hand and ran full force into Liam. Anticipating the greeting, Liam knelt down and lifted Eleanor into his arms, kissing her on the cheek when he was standing again.

“Hello, Princess, I’ve missed you so much.” He held her close, looking up and smiling at Riley as she approached.

“I missed you, too, Daddy!” She placed her hands on each of his cheeks and kissed him on the nose.

“We both did,” Riley added.

Liam brought his free hand to his wife’s waist and pulled her close, placing a lingering kiss on her lips. “Hello, beautiful.”

“Hey, handsome.” Riley replied.

“Daddy, Daddy, Santa came to see us today! You’re here because me and mommy asked him for you to come home!” Eleanor interrupted.

Liam laughed at his daughter’s excitement. “So, I’ve heard. How do you think I got here?”

Eleanor’s eyes went wide. “Daddy, did you meet Santa too?”

“I did, Eleanor.” He placed her back on the ground before continuing. “He came to my hotel and told me that my girls both asked to have me home with them for Christmas, so he flew me back to the palace in his sleigh to make sure I got here as quickly as possible.”

“Woooowwwww.” The young princess was awestruck by her father’s story.

“Hey, kiddo.” Drake interrupted the family reunion, calling for Eleanor’s attention.

“Uncle Drake, I met Santa!”

“Really? Why don’t you come tell me and Bartie all about it?” Drake held out his hand, which Eleanor quickly took. He looked over to Liam and Riley who nodded in gratitude.

Once the royal couple was alone, Liam pulled Riley into his arms. “I’ve missed you so much, my love.”

“Not as much as I missed you.” She kissed him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

They pulled away, resting their foreheads together. “You know, Santa mentioned that you were teetering dangerously close to the naughty list.” He kissed her again, gently tugging her bottom lip as they separated.

Riley pulled back and looked up at him, batting her eyelashes innocently. “Who, me?”

Liam laughed at her response. “Why don’t we go in there, make the rounds, and open the dance floor? Then we can sneak away, and you can welcome me home properly.”

“Works for me.”

As they stood in front of the closed ballroom doors, waiting to be announced, Riley looked up at her husband. “How did you end up making it home anyway?”

“Oh you know, just a little Christmas magic.”

Permatag:

@busywoman @chemist-ana @choiceskatie @cordonia-gothqueen @cordoniaqueensworld @delicialola16-blog @emersyn-in-cordonia @emkay512 @foreverethereal123 @gabesmommie1130 @gardeningourmet @gkittylove99 @gryffindordaughterofathena @hopelessromanticmonie @iaminlovewithtrr @i-am-only-here-for-sims-cc @kat-tia801 @khoicesbyk @kingliam2019 @mainstreetreader @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @mile9213 @mom2000aggie @neotericthemis @nestledonthaveone @phoenixrising308 @princessleac1 @queenrileyrose @secretaryunpaid @shewillreadyou @sincerelyella @tessa-liam @theroyalheirshadowhunter @twinkleallnight @txemrn @wingedhairstylemusicweasel

TRR:

@burnsoslow @charlotteg234 @lovingchoices14 @ofpixelsandscribbles

Liam:

@21-wishes @amandablink @ao719 @custaroonie @jared2612 @yourmajesty09 @zaffrenotes

One Shots:

@darley1101

#the royal romance #choices the royal romance #trr #choices trr #liam x mc #liam x riley #king liam x mc #king liam x riley #King Liam Rys #Liam Rys #trr liam #trr mc #trr fanfic #trr fandom #trr fan fiction #trr fan fic #choices fic writers creations #wacky drabbles

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delimeful · 4 years ago

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Builder

new minecraft AU update! this one jumps between the past & the present!

warnings: zombies, injury mention

Patton found the old house on a cloudy day.

He was still hit with the urge to roam, every once in a while, and while Logan’s home rested on the edge of a swamp, there were green, rolling hills to the southwest that were lovely to wander in.

Logan normally escorted him, as an extra pair of eyes with a helpful cat familiar to prevent any creepers from creeping up on him, but today he had been immersed in his potions. He’d found a new enchanted spellbook while out on a voyage, and was practically bursting with ideas upon his return.

Patton had smiled and left him to it, waving off any concerns with a promise to be extra careful and come back home if he started feeling sunsick.

He hadn’t meant to amble so far off course, but he’d seen a beehive, and where there were bees, there were flowers!

Spurred on by the idea of a flower crown for his friend, he’d found himself farther westward than he’d ever gone before. The hills turned to a taiga landscape, and between those towering birches was the house.

It looked uninhabitable, the wood rotted and the roof collapsed, but something about it called Patton closer, and so he pushed aside the remains of the front door and walked inside.

The stairs were ruined, barring any entry to the upper level of the house. Any furniture that had once stood tall was now utterly destroyed by years of exposure to the elements. He stepped carefully, ducking past cobwebs and listening to each creaky step.

Finally, he reached the back corner, and stopped, turning his head this way and that until the dull glint of metal caught his eye, half-hidden behind a dusty bedframe.

He crouched next to the iron hatch, and with only the barest moment of hesitation, pulled it open.

Daylight spilled into the basement below, and he caught a glimpse of clouded eyes set in a rotting face before the zombie backed up out of the light with a groan. Patton stumbled back with a yelp, falling on his back, and then crawled forwards and slammed the latch shut.

There was no protest from the creature below, and he left the house at a sprint.

Logan had followed him back out to the house based on nothing but Patton’s panicked ramblings alone, and his brow had grown more and more furrowed as they reached the house, ventured inside, and re-opened that hatch.

“I passed this house many times,” he spoke slowly, voice pained, “and all this time, someone had been down here?”

Patton leaned in, hands shaking as his eyes adjusted to the dark. “There’s two of them,” he corrected softly, and then stood back up in time to watch Logan hurry out of the dilapidated building.

It was guilt that his anger stemmed from, and Patton gave him some time before following, ignoring the bubbling remains of a shattered potion on the ground to pull his friend into a long hug.

“Could you help them?” he asked, once Logan’s witch mark had ceased its glowing, and his fists were no longer white-knuckled. “The way you helped me?”

Logan had been looking at him with that helplessly surprised stare, the one that always appeared when Patton witnessed his supernatural ‘fits’ firsthand and stayed anyway.

At the question, his expression went firm. “We’re going to try.”

The next few weeks were a rush of planning, harvesting, and brewing.

Patton hadn’t been sure he would be much of a help at all, but Logan had an unending list of tasks that he was working through, and a surprising amount were simple enough that Patton could manage them himself, like scavenging for certain ingredients or preparing others in a certain manner.

Eventually, he even began his own little garden, where he planted the ingredients more commonly needed for most of Logan’s potions.

Other tasks weren’t so easy.

Gold couldn’t be grown, for example, and their luck in mines varied from day to day. Some of the ingredients were only found in the Nether, and while Logan had traversed it enough to be familiar, it was still a dangerous place.

Logan had once returned home with a crossbow bolt lodged in his shoulder, having survived the trek back by leaving the bolt in and drinking a potion of healing anyways. They'd had to reopen the wound to get it out, and Patton had insisted on waiting by the portal for every venture after, just in case something like that happened again.

Still, bit by bit they worked, until Logan had a refined version of the cure he’d created for Patton.

Applying the cure didn’t actually take that long, though Logan expressed his frustration with how difficult it was to maneuver young zombies. Apparently older zombies-- the ones that were more bone than flesh, the ones that didn’t flinch away from pain, the ones that no potion could cure-- were much easier to lead. More predictable after the last traces of humanity faded from their minds.

Regardless, Patton’s very talented friend managed to separate and enclose the two of them in cells on his own, refusing Patton's assistance to avoid adding an extra person to the mix and complicating everything. He did allow Patton to help him with the actual curing, and how strange it was, to be on the other end of the process this time.

The potion & golden apple combination went over without a hitch, and Patton didn't think he'd ever slept as deeply as he did the night after those hard weeks of work. With the former zombies now laying tucked into their own beds, healing more by the day, Logan and Patton were left to wait in anxious anticipation.

Luckily, they had plenty to do to occupy their time! The new residents would need a place to stay, after all, and though Logan’s home was cozy, it wasn’t large enough to fit additions. Patton had originally wanted to build a neighboring house right next door, but Logan had suggested they build it closer to the decrepit house, just in case these strangers wanted some space to themselves after their ordeal.

Patton had a sneaking suspicion that the suggestion was also in case the others reacted badly to Logan's witch status, but he didn’t call his housemate out on it. He was nervous about meeting these new people too, after all. He hadn’t really had the opportunity to spend much time with anyone but Logan since regaining consciousness, and sometimes it all seemed like too much.

Now though, building this place with the breeze at his back and Logan at his side, he felt as though he could take on all the muchness in the world.

He set another wooden beam in place, stepping back to smile at how close they were to finishing the house. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it had taken a lot of hard work, and Patton had a good feeling about it.

New beginnings didn’t come around every day, after all.

Patton smiled nostalgically at the house in the distance, the one at the heart of the village that he had built together with Logan all that time ago.

It was amazing how much the village had grown, one new home at a time, occupied mostly by former zombies at first, and then the occasional traveler settling down, and eventually a few kids running about. It had become a thriving community, and Patton never stopped feeling proud of all the work that everyone had put in to keep it safe and welcoming.

There was a curious little ‘vrrp’ from behind him, and Patton turned away from the half-finished wall to see Anxiety shuffling in place, avoiding the gaps in the floor that hadn’t yet been patched.

“Just lost in thought!” he reassured the enderman, reaching out slowly and patting his friend’s arm, giving him plenty of time to scoot away if he wasn’t feeling up to touch today. Anxiety held still, fingers curling around Patton’s hand in turn.

After a moment of this, he teleported away sheepishly, and Patton muffled a chuckle as he turned back to finish installing a window. Logan would be here soon, but until then, it was nice to have company as he once again worked on adding a home to their little patchwork village.

Patton would be the one moving in, of course, and though there was a new addition to their population, Anxiety was more of a secret housemate than a homeowner. (They wouldn’t want anyone gawking at him, after all!) Even with those differences, the process was still familiar enough to make him grin.

Anxiety made a small, otherworldly 'notice me' chirp, and Patton turned to find there was a solid block of dirt in his wall, the grass on top of it still green. It only took him a moment to connect the dirt’s presence to the empty-handed enderman shifting antsily next to it.

“Oh! What a nice touch!” he encouraged, and laughed as Anxiety teleported back and forth in apparent pride. “It’s fun to work together with friends on stuff like this, isn’t it?”

He couldn’t really understand the noises that the enderman made in response, but he got the sense it was a resounding agreement.

#sanders sides #minecraft au #ts patton #ts logan #ts virgil #ender #my writing #writing #fluff

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rhythmic-idealist · 5 years ago

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This post is a little outdated and very bulky, I’ll be fixing it soon!

Please read the February 26th update on the GoFundMe. Thank you all.

-------------

Hey all. Usually you see me boosting others’ fundraisers; now it’s come time to make one of my own.

This is for my dear friend O. He’s been my friend for five years—he’s seen me through some of the ugliest public OCD moments of my life, and watched the stars with me at two in the morning, and made sure my 21st birthday was done right.

O’s workplace closed for two weeks due to the pandemic. Then he tested positive for the coronavirus, and he had to stay home for another three.

---

That was in July 2020. I began this fundraiser campaign when he reached out to me two months later, in September, and it’s stalled out at $580, but it’s kept the lights on.

The short version is that O lost five weeks of work due to contracting COVID-19. His landlord has adjusted expectations, but a minimum of 1/4 of July and August’s back-due rent is due by March. This fundraiser is to keep O in his apartment after, despite his every precaution, someone got him sick at the job he needs to work to survive.

We need to raise $3,170 by March or we fear O will lose the roof over his head. The total we need to raise, even if it takes longer than March, is $7,750.

Here’s the link to his GoFundMe. Or, read on below, for a longer explanation of the story. [The old version of this post is available here.]

March O began preparing for disaster. But you can’t save money when every cough or sniffle—and rightfully so!—gets you sent home from work, and you aren’t paid for the hours you aren’t working.

April-May 2020 The rent moratorium meant that he didn’t need to pay April and May’s rent, which was a small comfort (and enormous relief), and he kept working.

June 2020 O had enough to pay rent again, which he did.

And then there was a COVID-19 exposure at O’s workplace, which announced it would close for the recommended two weeks. These two weeks were not paid leave.

July-August 2020 On July 5th, O had a mild fever and lost his sense of taste, and took immediate action. His COVID test came back positive. He informed his employer at once, who instructed him to stay home for 3 weeks without pay.

Another two days of income were lost to a pulled nerve.

In July and August, O was unable to pay rent. That rent is the amount that we are fundraising for - about $6,000 total. His landlord will eventually demand that full amount, which is why we are working so hard to raise it.

September 2020

We started the GoFundMe. It’s been slow going, but we can barely scrape through with enough for March. We need help, though.

October 2020 O’s landlord agreed to accept a quarter of the rent that’s due by March. More on that situation in this update. Minimum needed by March to stay housed: $3,170 USD.

It became clear that O would need help keeping up with DWP bills as he plays catch-up on everything else. Rent is not his only outstanding bill, and this fundraiser only exists to cover costs he can’t cover while working full time. More on that situation in this update.

February 2021:

There’s a new update which I’ll link here soon, but we need to raise an additional $3,000 by the end of March. Thank you.

Logistics:

The rent that is due is about $6,000, and his DWP bill is coming up on $500. GoFundMe charges a payment processing fee of 2.9% plus $0.30 per donation, so to account for that fee, I’ve adjusted that number to $6900 USD.

DWP bills are about $200 a month. Adding GoFundMe's payment processing fees, that becomes an estimated $211.80 per month. The current goal accounts for four months of DWP bills, or $6900 + $847.20.

If the fundraiser is not finished in March, that number will update again to reflect DWP bills for the coming months.

Overdue rent + DWP bills for now = $7,750 USD total

Thank you so much for supporting. Please share, if you can.

GoFundMe total: $3,830 Funds donated through Ko-Fi: $375. If you give via Ko-Fi, please add a note such as “For O” or “Keep O Housed.” My Ko-Fi is no longer exclusive to this fundraiser.

Amount raised: 4,195/7,750 USD | Date updated: 3/06/2021

#covid-19 #coronavirus #mutual aid #gofundme #donation post #keep o housed #(click that tag for all posts about this)

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phoenotopia · 4 years ago

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The Last Phoenotopia Blog Update

(Date 2021 MAR 01)

I debated how to open this blog post, but perhaps the main crux of this blog post is the best place to start. The blog is being retired.

The purpose of this blog was to be a "development" blog for Phoenotopia, and well, Phoenotopia's development is done. I'll still be doing bug fixes and maintenance on the PC and Switch versions, and playstation and xbox ports are underway (by a publisher). But I'm not going to be making any more major changes to the game. At some point, you put the paintbrush down and say it's done. Blemishes and all.

Recent Events

The game launched on Steam last month, and like any launch, it was hectic. Bugs Galore. This is our first commercial PC launch, so it was a real baptism by fire. Unlike Switch's one configuration, the PC has multiple configurations and factors to account for. The game needed to be able to handle multiple control schemes, screen resolutions, refresh rates, and more! I had a 60Hz monitor going into launch and didn't know anything about Hz (I do now). There was a troublesome stutter that some players were sensitive to that my whole team didn't notice since our eyes compensated it away. There were a few times where in fixing something at one party's behest, it introduced problems for another party. A few times, due to disorganization, I unwittingly rolled back a fix that was meant to be applied. For some, the game couldn't play at all (really glad Steam allows refunds).

It was messy. It was tiring. I.AM.BEAT.

I think the worst of it is over... I'll still be around to do the last updates and bug fixes, but I'm ultimately ready for what's next.

SO what is next?

What isn't next... is Phoenotopia 2. As you may have heard down the grapevine, the game couldn't be what you call successful. No one's earned even minimum wage on it.

Maybe there's hope in the game's long tail. A year or two down the line... maybe. I won't hold my breath though. At some point in the past few months, I finished processing (or grieving) and it's time to move on.

The game has at least earned enough for us to continue our modest operations. As long as we don't expand the team, and we don't take another monster six-year dev cycle like what Phoenotopia took, we can continue. We'll have to be smarter and faster. Perhaps the most valuable thing we gained from all this is experience.

The Experience

It is a dev blog. Here are some of the lessons I've accumulated from this game's development.

- Have a good menu design. Menus aren't just that in-between fluff before you get to the good stuff. Menus are KEY. Your menus need to be robust, expandable, and *understandable* (to you, the developer). Because once the game's out, you will invariably be asked to add more options. And if your menu design is bad, every time you have to add a new menu option, it becomes a whole new pain all over again. Support mouse from the get-go, etc.

- Focus on features that people will actually care about. For instance, I've never seen anyone praise the camera's zoom feature. In practice, people try that feature a few times and then never use it again. But that feature was a constant consideration factor for every level. Run through it multiple times to make sure the level didn't break, think about which zoom levels made sense, resize rooms because they worked at one zoom level but not the other, and so on.

- Don't do boxes that you can move around. Other 2D platformers avoid movable boxes because they're a huge headache to program and they really complicate the game space. Enemies need to respond to boxes you throw in their path and either navigate around or attack it. When you're moving the box, you have to worry about constantly changing your collision size and reconciling when the box gets snagged on the environment. The boxes were also a constant source of bugs because people can manipulate them to soft-lock themselves and more.

- More focused script. Phoenotopia's 100,000+ word script was panned more for being bloated than it was praised for being lengthy. Long scripts take a long time to write and make the game more unwieldy, increasing the costs of translation and upkeep. Every update we're addressing some textual error or mistranslation. There are some highly renowned games (e.g. Hyper Light Drifter) that do without a script at all!

- Be flashy! A bat and a lightsaber take the same amount of work to program, but the lightsaber will draw a lot more attention and interest.

- Slopes, surprisingly! Six years ago when I started, Unity was ill-equipped for 2D games. If you used the physics that Unity provided you'd have a really floaty character that wouldn't adhere to the slope when going downhill. There were a hundred different tutorials saying different things (use forces, use move position, use translation, etc). You can get rectangular collisions done in a day, but to do slopes took weeks. Meanwhile, games can actually get by fine without slopes. Most people won't even notice. Did you know the Phoenotopia flash game didn't have slopes? Neither does Hollow Knight or Rogue Legacy. You can save yourself a lot of work by avoiding slopes.

(big entities look weird on slopes. Bad slope!)

I could write enough little knowledge nuggets like this to fill a book! But I'd rather just make the next game.

So… what IS next?

As mentioned previously, it's not Phoenotopia 2. Pirate and I are mostly just tossing some ideas back and forth right now. We'll go silent for a year (or two). Our next game's scope will be more modest in some ways, more ambitious in others. It will definitely be more smartly designed. (There will be a map!)

We'll announce it when it's ready for the public. It might be necessary for us to do a kickstarter. I've tried to avoid kickstarters having been burnt on quite a few myself and also because I worry that mismanaging a kickstarter would earn the ire of backers.

But I did keep this blog regularly updated for six years. So I've gained some confidence in my abilities to at least manage a kickstarter well.

Is it really the last Phoenotopia Blog update though?

Okay, not really. There is some news that I'll need to announce, and this blog is one of the game's main outreach channels. Here are the events that will cause me to update the blog:

Announcing the launch of the xbox/playstation ports when they're ready

If a physical edition of the game happens

If a new language is getting introduced into the game (Korean is a high possibility)

When we're ready to talk about our next game

If (BIG IF) we begin development on a Phoenotopia sequel. I do want to do a sequel one day if we have the means and the demand is there.

Those updates will be more on a "when they happen" basis, rather than me reporting in every couple months.

Fan Art

As always, I'm very happy to see fanart of Phoenotopia. Major thanks again to Pimez for collecting all the artwork from the corners of the internet! Since this is the "last" blogpost, Sir Pimez can finally take a rest from collecting the fanart :P

ÆV made a series of pictures that tell a story. A Pooki is humanely sheared of its wool to create a hat. The Pooki is unharmed. Nice! Gotta love Gail’s expressions.

Amagoo Mazeru makes a stunning landscape shot of a full moon and shooting stars. It’s a sharp and clear vector art. I like the faint glow of the moon and the fire and the subtle gradient in the night sky. Very skillfully done!

Hah hah. I got a chuckle out of this one. I imagine this is how Gail's enemies see her by the end of the game. CaESar made this image based on TerminalMontage's famous youtube videos. Nailed it!

CrownStar drew two pictures of Gail. I'm a big player of JRPGs, so the first shot instantly reminded me of Persona 4's art style. (Hmmm... Phoeonotopia as a JRPG... there’s potential there...) Next, Birdy is shown carried off after her defeat. I really like Birdy's expression here - she just seems mildly uncomfortable.

There's a bit of a story behind the first image. As Firanka shares it, she wasn't able to defeat the Big Eye monster at the end of the flash game, so she believed a tall tale that what awaited after was a 6 armed Kobold boss. Hilarious! The second is a rendition of the lonely Anuri elder. A rare subject. The loneliness is portrayed well here. I feel lonely just looking at it!

Koo_chop draws the clash between Gail and Katash at the top of the towers. I really like this interpretation of the game's art style. It’s faithful to the in-game graphics. And the lighting, from the glow of Gail's bat, to Katash's sword, and the lightning in the background... Amazing!

Lime Hazard shows Gail with a salute pose. Very appropriate for this occasion. I also like how there's a slight tilt in the angle that Gail is portrayed. Those dynamic angles are always hard to get right, and Lime Hazard pulled it off very skillfully. See you next mission!

Lyoung0J with a digital painting of Gail posed sitting on a rock. I like how it almost seems like she was caught in a candid moment - she’s smiling, but also feeling self-conscious. Cute! The art style really pops, and I like how Gail is sporting what I call the old anime style nose.

MyUesrNameIsSh*t with a sketch of Gail performing a skillful slingshot. I like how Gail is depicted with her tongue out in a mischievous manner, the way all mischievous people with slingshots do.

Niitsu Kentaro returns with a 2021 Happy New Year picture. That happened didn't it? A New Year... Gail's pose gave me a chuckle with how she seems to be waving the bat around as casually as one would wave hello. And "Phoenotopiyear"... Well said! One day we'll have our Phoenotopiyear...

Ochan Nu breaks all records with a stunning NINE pictures in one session :O

There's so many goodies here. My favorite would be the one with Gail staring intently at the screen - it's like she's looking directly at you. You almost feel uncomfortable.

Next, there's an Animal Crossing villager dressed as Gail and sporting her pink hair. It even looks like a house Gail would live in. Gail is a connoisseur of the arts and likes Mona Lisa. Yes :)

There are various comics of Gail pointing out Gail's weird food habits. A picture of Fran looking really cool, and even Gail rocking a bathing suit. (bathing suit image linked here in case NSFW). Wow!

Pimez didn't just collect the arts, he creates them as well! This one, which he aptly named 'The Year 175' is a depiction of when the dragons invaded the towers as told by an elderly Daean woman. Great pixeling skills! I got a good chuckle from the ice dragon leaving with its stuff slung over its shoulder.

Quo made a stunning picture of Gail playing the flute surrounded by the 5 musical notes and the Phoenix logo behind her. The theme seems to be "fire" and it works really well. Gail herself looks awesome depicted in her red suit - it's like she's leading a marching band!

Rai Asuha depicts Gail in the late game with her red suit, and night star bat, and holding a lamp. She looks ready for adventure! I really like the white outline here and Gail's poofy shoulders here - the art style feels reminiscent of Final Fantasy Tactics.

Seri also draws Gail bearing her late game equipment. Unique to Seri's drawing is how all of Gail's equipment is accessible from a pocket on her shirt. I also like how Gail is depicted with her lucky earrings - that accessory is often forgotten.

Treedude depicts Gail with a bat and wearing a funny smirk. She looks like she's ready to hurt someone!

Warotar returns with everyone's favorite Great Drake, Bubbles! It seems so happy to be featured!

I'm really grateful for all the fanart this game has received. From the bottom of my heart, thank you!

Closing Notes

Pirate drew a picture to mark the occasion. It shows Gail enjoying a hot chocolate with marshmallows and a pumpkin muffin. A rest well-earned...

Goodbye! Until next time!

#phoenotopia

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marjansmarwani · 4 years ago

Text

time can heal, but this won’t

1.7k || ao3

This could have been easily avoided. It never should have happened. But it had and now TK was possibly dying from a gunshot wound and Carlos couldn't shake the feeling that it was his fault. --- Carlos Reyes Week Day 5: “Just, hold on.” + hurt/comfort

This idea actually came from this post by @trkstrnd and became this but none of my other stuff for Carlos week was really angsty so I guess I was due

Beta’d by my favorite partner in crime @officereyes

------------

Carlos could recite police protocols verbatim. They had been drilled into his head since the academy and every day since he had lived by them. As a patrol officer, making the right choice and following the proper procedure could be the difference between life and death. The rules were there for a reason; they existed to keep people safe.

This incident — this catastrophe, really — was the kind of example they’d be using to scare the new recruits for years to come: make sure you follow procedure, or a firefighter could get shot by a 7-year-old.

Carlos still wasn’t sure what had happened: there had been so many moving parts. There had been the mistaken burglar, the worried wife, the heart attack victim, the chaos of the scene. There had been other officers on scene who were not responsible for two civilians; someone should have secured the weapon.

But it slipped through the cracks, as things sometimes did in the face of chaos. Carlos would normally be one of the first to say that it was something to learn from, that now that it had happened they would know to never let it happen again. But this time was different.

This time it was TK’s life on the line, and no amount of reasoning could make that okay.

He didn’t even find out about it until they were gone. He had just turned the corner when the alert about a gunshot came over the radio. His heart caught in his throat as he thought of all the awful possibilities: it could be a fellow officer, someone he was friends with. It could be one of the firefighters - he may not know them well but he would never wish harm on any of them. It could be Paul, it could Michelle, or TK. Those last few possibilities were too awful for him to dwell on so he pushed them aside focusing instead on the road in front of him and the job before him.

It’s not until the Ackermans are safely returned home with a promise to follow up with any updates from the other homeowners (though Carlos doubts they’ll have any desire to press charges, given everything) that he checks his phone. He breathes a sigh of relief when he sees a text from Michelle, and another when he sees one from Paul.

It’s only after he unlocks his phone to read the messages, nearly identical in content, that he starts to feel the world ever so slowly begin to fall apart around him. It’s the confirmation he’s been dreading: TK’s been shot. TK’s in surgery and from what he can extrapolate between the lines...it doesn’t look good.

He shuts his eyes and takes a moment, leaning against the driver’s side door of the cruiser, to let the fear and dread wash over him. He and TK, well, Carlos isn’t all that sure what they are, to be perfectly honest; but he does know what they could be. He thinks they’re on the way there too. He thinks they could have something wonderful, but that’s not possible if TK is dead.

Even thinking the word, even considering the possibility brings tears to his eyes but he pushes them back down. He opens his eyes to check on his partner, who is still on the front porch speaking to Mrs. Ackerman. He still has a few moments of solitude before he’ll have to answer any questions. He sags against the car as he lets the weight of this fear crash over him. It feels almost intrusive, to care so much when he has no claim on the other man; when they have no label for this thing they are building. But they were building it, and Carlos doesn’t want to be left with only the memory of the process.

As much as he doesn’t want that, he’s afraid that might be exactly what he gets and he hates it.

He straightens up and shoots off quick replies — thanking them both for the information and asking them to keep him posted. Then he glances at the time and takes a deep breath — there are two hours left in his shift. He can last two hours. He doesn’t know how to explain this to anyone else, doesn’t know how he could possibly explain to his boss that he needs to leave early because this guy he might be kind of dating might die. He doesn’t know how to explain it to anyone, so when his partner returns to the car he gives her a tight smile and starts the car so they can head back to the precinct and their paperwork.

He doesn’t want to dwell on his thoughts of TK hurt, of TK in surgery, of TK possibly dying so instead he focuses on the how. Namely, how was a gun — that they knew about — not secured; how had this happened with a large police presence?

Why hadn’t he noticed before it was too late?

He tells himself he wasn’t there when the shots were fired, he reminds himself that there were other officers there, that he wasn’t responsible for this fuck up. But no matter many times he repeats it to himself, he doesn’t believe it. He was there, he knew how things should have gone and he hadn’t made sure they were done. And now TK was paying the price. This was his fault.

He carefully avoids the subject with his partner and upon their return to the station, he buries himself in paperwork, the words in front of him a blur as he checks his phone every other minute and counts down the seconds to the end of his shift. He keeps to himself, carefully avoiding the talk and conjecture of what had happened at the last call. He pretends to not hear those asking for a recount of the events, he only speaks to his Captain when asked to give his version. He tells her the truth: this could have been avoided; it should have never happened. She nods and thanks him, and he returns to his private waiting game.

Finally, after what seems like a lifetime, his shift is over and he is finally able to go to where his head and his heart have been the whole night. Arriving at the hospital is easy, it’s the going in that’s hard. As much as he wants to know there is a part of his brain that reminds him that these last few moments of not knowing might be the last moments he has in a reality where TK Strand still exists. Walking through those doors could change that, and it’s almost enough to keep him in his car.

In the end, the need to know wins out. Carlos has never been one to run from things and he is determined to keep it that way. Even if what he is running to is his own heartbreak, he is determined to face it head-on. And so he opens his car door and climbs out, heading towards the door and the possibility of a new reality.

He finds the correct waiting room quickly; the large group is pretty noticeable, especially at the late hour. He gets curious gazes from most and a sympathetic look from Paul. He nods at them all before his eyes zero in on the room at the center of it all, the door to which their eyes keep gravitating. He takes a deep breath and strides across the room, slowing as he reaches the doorway and the scene within reveals itself.

It is TK in the bed and, according to the monitors, he is alive, but after having known TK for several months now Carlos scarcely believes it. TK is always moving; a study in perpetual motion. Even when they sit, on the rare nights they settle in for a movie, he is never still. He shifts, he fiddles with his necklace. TK Strand does not hold still and to see him so stationary and lifeless is wrong on levels Carlos doesn’t even want to contemplate.

He steps inside quietly, not wanting to startle the Captain who is speaking softly, who only has eyes for his son. Owen still turns, despite his efforts, and when their eyes meet Carlos can tell that he isn’t fooling the other man for one moment. Seeing TK like this, in such a foreign state has breached the barriers he has so carefully maintained all night and he can feel the moisture in his eyes. The Captain’s expression filters through several emotions within a moment and he settles on understanding. He knows what they are to each other; or at least what TK is to Carlos. He stands and offers Carlos some time and Carlos means it when he says he doesn’t want to impose. He doesn’t want to pull TK’s father away from his son, he doesn’t want to put anyone else out when this was all his fault anyway.

But the Captain insists and soon Carlos is left alone with the shell of the man he just might love. He falls into the chair beside the bed and runs a hand through TK’s hair before reaching out and wrapping a hand tenderly around his arm. He knows that in a movie this would be the big romantic speech, the moment the character proclaims his love for the person in the bed. But as much as he does want that, as much as it may be true, proclamations of love are not his highest priority right now. Right now he just needs TK to live. Anything that comes after that, he can handle. Instead, as he leans in, he offers something else.

“I’m so sorry,” he says thickly, voice low and heavy with tears, “this shouldn’t have happened I...I’m so sorry Ty. Just…” he trailed off, using his free hand to angrily wipe away the tears sliding down his face, “just, hold on. You can’t leave us yet. We need you — I need you.”

He let the silence of the ambient noises fill the room as he stared at the man before him. Soon he is joined by the rest of the crew but not even the firm and comforting hand on his shoulder from Paul can make this any better.

If TK didn’t make it through this, he didn’t know how he would be able to live with himself.

#911 lone star #911 lone star fic #carlos reyes #tk strand #tarlos #my writing #usermaximus #userac #tuserpaige #reyesstrand #userkimmy #userjilly #jazzyjess

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achliegh · 4 years ago

Text

Bronze

Alright, I had this wonderful idea come into my head about Clayton, honestly he deserves his own fic. So here is his version of events! Lots will tie together with Golden so I recommend you read that as well. But you don’t have to of course.

Explaining:

Before Letter is the present.

Letter is updating the lives of the people back home, of whoever wrote it mostly.

After Letter is memory.

The first few letters will be very awkward because writing letters and not being sure what to talk about and what not to talk about is hard and confusing. Stick with me! Yes, this prologue is just a letter.

TW/CW: Discussions of death, miliatry training, smut, cringy jokes, underage drinking, dumb choices, swearing, and more later on.

Beta: @walking-crisis

Some Characters belong to @lumosinlove

Chapter 2:

For You

Chicken Fried

It was silent besides the radio humming faintly over the walkie attached to his vest. Every breath he took in filled his lungs with dust.

Nothing felt real.

The mission was to take out a target. Clay left it at that because he hasn’t been in the military long enough to be able to consider targets… people. He felt sick anytime he put the two together but he knew this is what he signed up for. This target has taken many lives and he was watching through his scope, gun pointed at the door of the building where the target operated.

He had to put himself in the headspace where he couldn’t think about anything other than the trigger where his finger flinched whenever the door opened.

He didn’t have the signal so he didn’t shoot.

His partner sat next to him, completely relaxed tapping his thigh to the beat of the music. Every hit of his thigh almost made Clay flinch. This wasn’t his first mission where he had to take a target out, but this was the first where he didn’t see them actively doing something horrendous. The slight breeze felt like it could push him over with just the right amount of pressure. Everything was sensitive… yet he felt numb.

The door opened for the fifth time in the last hour and an old woman waddled out of the building, she smiled at a small group of children who ran past. She has aged with stress from the lines of her wrinkles. Her baggy clothes looked homemade.

She was sweet, reminding him of his own mother.

He relaxed when he saw her, knowing she couldn’t be the target. Watching her talk to a man on the street he hears the signal. His partner rolls over to lay next to him and takes out his binoculars to look at the woman and gives Clay the signal to get ready.

Two Fingers Pointed Up: Get ready.

Two Fingers Pointed Out: Shoot.

Hesitating for a moment, his partner notices and gives him a look to get his shit together. Swallowing his hesitation. He takes the safety off his gun and ready's himself for the shot.

One he would hear forever.

Dear Honey Bee,

How's my baby doing? Making friends I hope, that’s the one thing you always amaze me with. The way you make friends so easily. I could never, shy little thing like myself. I was terrible at breaking out of my shell. Your daddy always convinced me to go out though.

Which reminds me! You remember Miss Bell down the road? She is pregnant with triplets, and no one knows who the father is. How scandalous! I always thought she would end up with that farmer Micheal across the river but she never liked him much.

Your lovers stopped by last week and Little Miss… what do you call her? Sparky or something. She was absolutely glowing when we gave her a photo album of you and Leo from when you were in middle school. The hunk you managed to catch had hour long conversations with your daddy about the latest sports which I didn’t understand so I did what you always tell me to do.

Smile and Nod.

It’s odd writing letters to you, I remember writing to my family when I first moved in with your Daddy because we didn’t have the email or the phones. But I am so used to writing to you over the phone that writing on paper is odd. I hope you’re getting these letters, everyone has said you haven’t responded but I remember when Wyatt was in the military and Eloise was a mess, long before you and Leo were around. So, I’m not too worried.

I am sending you and your Team the best wishes for safety. Praying y’all all get home safe and make lots of babies. We need more kids, I want grandbabies and I made sure your lovers know that.

Now, on a more serious note. Your Daddy is still upset with you for just leaving like that. He wishes he could have convinced you to stay because he wants you safe. I want you safe too but I know this is something you need to do. From the calls I've had with Leo he is also still angry with you.

I keep trying to convince your Daddy to write but he says it hurts too much. So know that He sends his best anytime I write to you. Anytime you think of us.

We love you so much Clayton London Bruss. Now get some rest, I know you’re tired.

Love,

Your Mama

He knocks on the window of Leo’s truck, horny fuck can’t control himself. Clay doesn’t mind it much though, walking over to Ashley who hands him his phone that she was routinely checking.

“Find anything interesting?” He takes his phone and puts it in his back pocket, putting an arm around her shoulders.

“Nothing besides your terribly gay nudes.” She rolls her eyes. “Just because Leo is a faggot doesn’t mean you have to sink that low.” Clay furrows his brows and is about to say something back when Finn walks over to them, looking like he just had a great make out. Clay smiles.

“How was the truck?”

“Warm, I forgot how hot it gets in the south.” Finn pulls his shirt to get some airflow and Clay nods while Ashley scowls a little at the redhead in front of them. The music starts to play over the speakers. Logan joins them after a couple of minutes.

Clay has gotten a few… interesting vibes from Logan when Leo isn’t looking. He notices the hesitation that Leo can’t see. He sees the way Logan wants to tell Leo to back off and to pull him closer at the same time.

Leo doesn’t deserve that.

Clay likes Finn better because Finn definitely likes Leo, and Logan probably to a point where it's bad for himself. But Finn is someone who cares with all or nothing.

Leo does deserve that.

They start heading over to where Leo has parked, a Bronco in between their trucks, Clay notices Logan hesitate reaching for Finn’s hand. So, it wasn’t only a Leo thing. Lots of people think Clay is an oblivious idiot but that would be sort of wrong. He is very observant when it comes to people, maybe not so much when it comes to safety.

“CLAY!” He looks upt just in time to see Leo chuck a BudLight, yuck, at him. Obviously needing to get rid of it, he pulls out his keys and punches a whole to shotgun it.

Way to start off the night.

Lot’s of drinks later, one of his favorite songs came on over the speaker. Chicken Fried by The Zac Brown Band, it's a great song. Casually singing the lyrics he turns to Ashley who is on her phone, he shrugs not caring and runs over to Leo and jumps on his back. Hopping off after Leo lightly elbows him in the ribs, Leo turns around and joins him in singing the lyrics.

Dancing like idiots he looks at Leo’s infatuations and sees them with sappy looks on their faces but he knows Leo won’t notice them.

As the night goes on they do more stupid shit, crawling into the passenger side of his truck he let’s Ashley drive him home. The blind trust he puts in her is something he will regret later. About 20 miles from his house they see flashing red and blue lights behind the truck. Ashley pulls over and sighs annoyed, crossing her arms.

Clays anxiety is off the charts, he knows he isn’t sober and underage. If this is who he thinks it is then there is a 100% chance he will be taken down to the station. Of course, they would get pulled over when Ashley’s dad knew she would be at a bonfire with her “degenerate” boyfriend.

“Hi Daddy” Ashley smiles a little at the officer as he shines a flashlight into the cab of the truck right into Clay’s eyes.

“Sir, I’m going to need you to step out of the vehicle. Hi Ash, can you drive your car home after you drop his truck off? I’m gonna book him down at the station.” Clay gets out and about falls over and neither Ashley or her dad is impressed.

Getting thrown into the back of a cop car after an aggressive handcuffing and pat down is not how he wanted to spend his night. He honestly just wanted to go to bed.

Having been arrested for no reason so many times he knows the process by heart now. So well in fact that the officers don’t even have to tell him what to do. He just does it and goes to sit in his favorite cell. Where he can throw pieces of paper at the Sheriff’s desk.

He calls his mom with his one phone call and tells her what happened. She is out of town with his dad for a conference about cattle prices in the south this year so Clay gets to spend the night in the cell. Great.

Just what he wanted.

#leo knut #clayton bruss #finn o'hara #logan tremblay #thomas walker #noelle tremblay #james potter #sirius black #remus lupin #sweater weather #lumo

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jobrookekarev · 4 years ago

Text

I Remember it All Too Well

Chapter One of Six: Invisible String Tying You to Me

Words: 2200

Summary: Alex knew from the moment he signed the divorce papers that leaving Jo and Seattle was the worst mistake of his life. As Alex works his way back to Seattle, he sees Jo again four times before she allows him back into her life.

The four times Alex saw Jo after their divorce, and the one time they finally got back together with her, plus a soft epilogue.

Fandom: Grey's Anatomy

Relationship: Alex Karev/Jo Wilson.

Characters: Jo Wilson, Alex Karev, Helen Karev, Eli Stevens, Alexis Stevens.

Rating: General Audiences

Additional Tags: Regret, Longing, Pining, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Foster Kid, Adoption, the Pandemic.

Read at AO3

Read at FFN

AN: Will update weekly

……………………………………………………………………

Alex was in the kitchen getting dinner ready. It was spaghetti night which means twice the mess as usual nights as he dumped the first jar of spaghetti sauce into the huge pot on the stove.

“Here you go, Daddy,” Eli said, handing him the other jar of spaghetti sauce.

“Thanks, bud,” Alex smiled at Eli, his little co-chef tonight.

Eli ran off to get the noodles as Alex put the other jar of sauce in the pot and turned on the burner to simmer.

Izzie always went all out with the homemade sauce and everything, but Alex made a version of spaghetti sauce that he and Jo used to make. It was basically just, roasted ground beef, two different kinds of store-bought spaghetti sauce, and a dash of fresh garlic and hot pepper flakes. Izzie hated it, but the twins absolutely loved it and she wasn’t here to tell him what to do. So Daddy’s spaghetti sauce it was.

“Alex!” He heard his mother call out to him from the office down the hall. “There's something wrong with my video call!”

“Just a second mom,” Alex said as he put the can of sauce in the sink and wiped his hands.

“Eli hold off on the noodles and don’t do anything in the kitchen until I get back,” Alex said, taking the pack of noodles from him.

“Okay,” Eli said as he scurried off to join his sister on the carpet as she played with their tablet. It was a little pre-dinner technology time and they were completely engrossed in it and didn't even notice as Alex left the room.

He walked down the hall to the little office Helen had in the corner of the house. Ever since the pandemic started Alex had moved back to Iowa to keep an eye on his mother during the lockdown. The library had closed and Helen struggled to maintain her schedule. Having Alex there had helped as he set her up with her therapist two times a week and she was able to help the kids with their school work in place of her work at the library. It wasn’t perfect, but they made do.

Izzie wasn't with them as the two of them were fighting. Izzie was upset he wouldn't call her his girlfriend, despite their relationship and the fact that they lived and parented together. Alex tried to love her and he wanted to make it work, but he couldn't just jump all in. Izzie wanted to pick up where they left off. She wanted them to be together, so she could say she had the perfect life; a partner, and kids, and everything. However, Alex wasn't ready to fully love her like that again. Truth be told he was still in love with Jo. He needed time to let go of Jo and grieve the loss of his marriage to her.

The pandemic had put a strain on all of that and Izzie had opted to stay back in Kansas, although she called every day to talk to the kids. As Izzie continued to work through the pandemic, Alex was left alone to parent the twins when the schools closed. Before the shutdown, Alex hadn't been able to find a job and was just subbing for the Ped’s attendings at the hospital Izzie worked at. With the quarantine that had transitioned to the occasional Zoom call consult and now he was mostly just a stay-at-home dad to the twins.

“I had the email on the computer and I clicked the link, but then this little box popped up and asked for a password, but I've never used a password before?” Helen explained as she pointed to the computer set up on the desk for a video call with her doctor.

She sat back in the chair and twisted her fingers as she looked up at the clock. It was five minutes past five and he could tell she was getting upset that the call hadn't gone as planned throwing off her schedule. She was going to therapy twice a week and had an extra doctor’s video appointment every other week, on Friday evenings.

“Okay, let me see,” Alex said as he pulled up the zoom meeting on the computer. He double checked the internet settings and went back to the original email. Alex quickly read it over. It was the standard zoom email with time and place and the passcode at the bottom. Alex clicked the link and waited for it to start up.

The Zoom started up but prompted him for the password and Alex quickly input the code and the zoom meeting connection started up on the screen.

“Thank you, Alex, but you should go,” Helen urged as she put a hand on his chest and gently pushed him back.

Alex stepped away to give his mother her privacy, but then the video connected and a baby appeared on the screen. The baby couldn't have been more than six months old as the camera was angled to the floor so they could see the baby sitting up on a blanket surrounded by toys. The baby smiled as soon as the video started. They locked eyes with Helen and babbled excitedly before leaning towards her. The baby excitedly babbled, as they seemed to recognize Helen and she smiled as she looked at them.

“Hello, little one,” Helen said as she leaned forward and waved at the baby. “I’m so happy to see you, but where’s your Mommy?”

Alex stepped forward and smiled as he watched them interact. He wasn't surprised that the doctor put their computer on their coffee table and did Zoom meetings with their baby. They were in the middle of a pandemic and he had done the same with the twins when he consulted for a few Ped’s cases at the hospital in Kansas City. Then he recognized the couch behind the baby. It was the white couch that Jo had bought for him with his money that she won after the ping pong match. The room around the baby was the loft in Seattle.

“Hey, do you see Grandma?” Jo's sweet voice came through the line as she sat down on the floor next to the baby and picked them up before sitting them in her lap. “I was worried when you were late. I was just about to call you, but I couldn’t find my phone... Alex?”

Alex stood there dumbfounded as they locked eyes. Jo was just as shocked to see him as he was, but only for a moment before Jo grew angry and reached forward to end the call.

“No, Josephine, please wait, he's leaving,” Helen pleaded with her but it was too late as Jo closed the laptop and ended the call.

Helen turned around and glared at him. “I told you to go.”

“No you can't do that, you can't just tell me to leave when you've been video chatting with my ex-wife and her baby?” Alex said, he tried not to get too upset, but he couldn't help it.

Alex just stood there shocked as he thought about Jo and the baby in her lap, video chatting with his mother. This had to have been an ongoing thing as Helen had it scheduled out every other Friday for weeks. He remembered walking past the door one time and hearing baby giggles, he brushed it off as just weird feedback, but there was a baby.

It was Jo’s baby. He didn't even know how she’s had a baby. She couldn't have been pregnant when he left because the baby was around six months old and he'd only divorce her five months and twenty-one days ago. So unless she’d given birth right after he left Seattle the baby wasn’t theirs and he’d certainly know if Jo was nine months pregnant before he left. The tally in his head of how long it had been since he left her was a constant reminder of the life he'd left behind.

“Just because you cut Josephine out of your life doesn't mean that I have to,” Helen said, raising her voice as she twisted her fingers. “When you left she had no one, no family, I still remember the day she called me to say that you had divorced her. Instead of hearing it from you, I heard from my daughter-in-law that my son had two kids and an ex-wife in Kansas and that he was divorcing her to be with them.”

“So what, you just took her side in everything?” Alex said, getting defensive as he crossed his arms.

“I'm not on anybody's side,” Helen insisted, getting more upset. “I let you come stay with me and, I love you, Alex I do, and I love your twins, and I love being a Grandma to them, but I love having Josephine as my daughter-in-law, too. Before your divorce, Josephine and I called each other twice a month and after you left her I continued to call her, she never stopped taking my calls, unlike how you did. It's part of my routine and I'm so gracious that she still lets me be a part of her life. Her one condition was that I couldn't tell you that we were still in contact and I respected that.”

Alex sat down in the chair across from his mom as he processed the information. He didn't know anything about Jo’s life now. Meredith wouldn't tell him anything when they talk, despite how he asked occasionally.

“I'm sorry, you're right and you have every right to keep in contact with Jo,” Alex said as Helen nodded and relaxed back into her chair. “How is she? The baby, is it hers?”

“Sort of, he’s her foster baby and she’s trying to adopt him. Josephine picked him up from the fire station after his birth parents dropped him off there and she’s been fostering him ever since. His name is Asher, he just turned six months old last week,” Helen said as she smiled and pulled out her phone, she quickly pulled up a picture of them and handed her phone to Alex.

Jo was holding Asher and they were pressed up against each other cheek to cheek. Jo had such a wide smile across her face, one that he had seen many times when she was joyously happy and it made him smile too. They had been trying for a baby before he left and it made his heartache, despite how happy he was for her.

“He’s really cute,” Alex said handing the phone back to his mother, but the image remained burned into his mind.

“Yeah he's such a sweetheart too, always babbling on about something,” Helen said as she looks down at the picture.

“Why don't you text Jo and tell her that I'm gone. I won't interrupt your video chats again, maybe she'll call back,” Alex said as he got up and went to the door.

“Thank you, Alex,” Helen said standing up and reaching to put a hand on his cheek.

Alex just nodded and left. He went back down the hall and went back to the pot of sauce, but he couldn't get his mind off the image of Jo and Asher. He looked over at the twins. They were completely engrossed in the game they were playing. It was this water game where they had to draw a path to give water to an alligator so they could take a shower. Alexis was directing Eli's hand and trying to draw the path over him as they argued over the right path for the water.

“Alexis let your brother create the path for the water this time, you can do the next one,” Alex said to them as he turned the heat on the spaghetti sauce down as it had started bubbling over while he was gone. “But just five more minutes guys and then I need your help to set the table.”

“Okay,” They quickly replied in sync, but didn't look up from their game.

It was easy for Alex to step back into the role of father for his twins and focus on the life he had in front of him, but he couldn't get Jo off his mind. Alex started the water for the pasta set before he got out a stack of four plates and set them on the counter where the kids could reach them. Then he walked back down the hall. Alex pressed his ear up against the door as he heard Jo and Helen talking while Asher babbled in the background. He heard Jo laugh at something that Asher did and he took in a breath as a knot formed in his chest.

He had regretted his decision to divorce Jo from the second he sent out the papers, but he was too much of a coward to take it back now. Alex loved Alexis and Eli with every fiber of his being and he didn't regret a second of his life with them. He just wished he could go back and tell Jo about them. He wished he would have asked her to co-parent them with him. He wished he would have done all this with her, but he didn't and he couldn't take it back now. So he just stood there and he closed his eyes as he listened to her laugh.

#jo wilson #alex karev #jolex #grey's anatomy #helena karev #eli stevens #alexis stevens #grey's anatomy fanfic #otp: home and heart #my fanfiction #my writing #my work

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skzsauce01 · 5 years ago

Text

In Fair Verona︱Chapter 11

Synopsis: Jisung knows he is the Romeo to your Juliet. He could wax poetry about you all throughout rehearsal and even a little after. Except Hwang Hyunjin is the one playing Romeo in the school play, not him. Jisung is just another tech crew member that you don’t know, but he’s determined to win your heart... by any means necessary.

Warning: violent thoughts; conspiracy to murder; actual murder

Word Count: 4.5k

Pairing: fem!reader x Jisung; fem!reader x Hyunjin

updates every Wednesday and Sunday @ 11 PM PST this is the end!︱chapter list

A glooming peace this morning with it brings.

The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head.

Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things.

Some shall be pardoned, and some punishèd.

For never was a story more woe

Than this of Juliet and her Romeo.

With its stalks of purple-blue flowers, monkshood is undeniably a beautiful plant. Jisung tends to it every day, despite his mother’s insistence that she should be the one taking care of her gift. He merely shrugs, and by Thursday evening, the monkshood is sitting on his bedroom windowsill.

It’s all part of his plan, of course; Jisung has other intentions for the plant other than making the house look pretty. When his parents are soundly sleeping, Jisung clears his desk of homework and textbooks and brings over the potted monkshood. He double-gloves his hands and begins pulling out the flower. He almost feels sorry for doing so, but it’s going towards a greater cause. Once its roots are out of the soil, he puts them down on an old cutting board he found stashed in a kitchen cabinet. He picks up the fruit knife he bought yesterday and begins dicing the root as finely as he can. His desk light is dim, and he strains to see the tiny wisps.

Jisung smiles to himself as he continues his work. The sound of the knife against the wooden board is soothing to hear, and he’s pleased by his progress. He places all the bits into the mortar and pestle he stole from the chemistry stockroom, and he begins grinding it into a powder. He’s careful to not inhale any of the dust by tucking his nose into the collar of his shirt the entire time. He regrets not putting on a face mask before starting. The grinding process produces gravelly noises, and he pauses in fear of being caught. There’s no reason to worry when both his parents are heavy sleepers, but beads of sweat form at the nape of his neck anyway.

When he’s satisfied with the results, he carefully tips the powder into a vial identical to the one used by the play. It’s more than he needs, so he puts the extras into a ziploc bag. In order to hide the extreme bitterness of the root, he spoons some sugar — from his home kitchen, not stolen — into the vial as well. He rubs the extra grinded root around the lip of the vial, making sure that all of it is covered. He then caps and shakes it until it mixes into an unassuming light brown powder. Tomorrow he’ll complete the final steps of his potion making.

He wipes down everything around him, making sure to leave no trace of any of the monkshood. The plant is effectively dead now after his work, so he disposes it into a trash bag along with his stained gloves. If his mother asks about the flowers, he’ll say it died since he overwatered it. Then, bag in his hand, he creeps out to the garbage bins set out for trash service and drops it in.

It’s 3 AM, and he needs to wake up in three hours, but he doesn’t even feel close to tired. There’s a renewed sense of energy and purpose coursing through him. He spends the rest of the very early morning lying in bed instead of sleeping. It’s likely that he’ll regret it, but the adrenaline keeps him bright-eyed until the sunrise.

He’s nearly all prepared for the final showing of Romeo and Juliet.

—

However, before the final showing can begin, Jisung needs to get through the Saturday show. He leaves his own vial in his desk drawer and puts on his crew shirt over his hoodie. He arrives before the mandated call time, and like last week, certain actors are running lines while the scarce few members of the tech crew hang around in the back of the auditorium. Felix is demonstrating some kind of fancy footwork to Minho in the wide aisles, while Chan and Jeongin are watching with interest. He supposes that Minho’s alright, despite him being friends with Hyunjin. Speaking of Hyunjin, he or you are nowhere to be seen, so Jisung assumes the two of you are cuddling together somewhere.

Why, yes, he is still a little bitter. Not as much as monkshood root though.

As the time approaches 5:30, the rest of the crew arrives, and Minho has to return to the stage to rehearse the fight scene again. Chan’s the one who stays by the lobby doors to let crew members inside this time. You and Hyunjin eventually emerge from whatever dark corner you were cozying up in. Jisung heads backstage, and he’s essentially forced to watch the two of you flirt with each other while the other actors run lines. Hyunjin intertwines his fingers in yours, touching your knuckles and teasingly bringing them up to his lips. You take your hand back at the last second, only letting a ghost of kiss brush across your skin. It ends with strawberry red cheeks and shy laughter.

It’s a good thing that he didn’t bring the monkshood and sugar mixture with him. He would have replaced the prop with it in a heartbeat. He’s over you, he says to himself. Just in a different way.

The comms in his ears are noisy, and they grow noisier when the doors open. Audience members start coming in, and the countdown begins.

Soon, the main curtain goes up. The magic of the play — if there was even any to begin with — has died for Jisung, and he doesn’t pay too much attention to it anymore. He can hardly believe that he once compared you to the sun. Hyunjin has massively improved in the balcony scene, and you gaze lovingly at him, no acting required. A mess of emotions — envy, anger, disgust, possibly love — resurface, and Jisung snaps his eyes back to the gardening forum he was reading yesterday. He concentrates on the words on the screen.

Depolarization. Immediately. Burning. Paralysis. Asphyxia. Severe.

For most of the show, he is. When the death scene occurs, he fantasizes about the revised version that will be happening tomorrow night. He feels his spirits rise, and he replays the moment in his head over and over again. He doesn’t even realize the play ends until the lights go out and the audience starts cheering. He jerks out of his daydream and mockingly claps for the cast. You hold hands with Hyunjin and bow on stage, and the room grows louder. Hyunjin smiles at you, and before you can change your mind, you stand on your tippy toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. You bury your face in Hyunjin’s shoulder, while everyone goes wild. No one but Jisung has seen the two of you kiss off script before.

Jisung holds his own head in his hands, trying to stop his head from pounding. His whole body dissolves into shakes, and he’s angry at the reason why. He can’t have you, and the whole world seems to think you and Hyunjin are the perfect fit. He can’t take refuge in the restroom this time since there are bound to be people inside.

“Jisung?” Yugyeom asks. He gently touches his shoulder, and Jisung flinches. He takes his hand back. “You okay?”

“I’m fine,” he bites out. “Just got a headache.”

“Oh. You want water or something?”

“I’ll get it myself.”

He rushes out of the auditorium and to a nearby water fountain. He drinks and drinks, water dripping from his chin and onto the linoleum floor, forming small puddles. He looks and feels like a feral animal. With the back of his hand, he wipes the lower half of his face.

Then with a straighter posture and a false aura of cheeriness, he heads to the back of the auditorium as he normally would. You and Hyunjin are missing, and he can only imagine what is happening between you two now — illicit kisses and possibly more. He sinks down into the cushy seat, willing it to swallow him. All everyone wants to do is talk about the curtain call.

“Ryujin was right,” Chan says. “He really is in love with her. Did you guys see the way he looked at her?”

Jeongin pretends to swoon. “They’re actually Romeo and Juliet.”

“You are paying attention to the play, right?” Ryujin says.

As anticipated, they banter over Jeongin’s poor word choice and semantics. Jisung sinks lower into his chair until only the top of his hair is showing. Changbin, sitting beside him, nudges him and gives him a look that says, “What’s wrong with you?”

“Headache,” he lies before changing the topic back to you and your love life. “You think they’ll last?”

Ryujin and Felix nod, Seungmin and Yugyeom shrug. No one explicitly says no. Jisung is disappointed in his friends and eager to prove them wrong.

A few actors come to return their mic packs, and you’re among them. You’re out of your costume and in a familiar hoodie. Jisung looks away, doing his best to remain calm. You look like you want to talk to him, but he injects himself into Changbin and Jeongin’s conversation, leaving no point of entry for you. You eventually give up, and you’re out of his sight soon enough. Hyunjin comes down the aisle minutes later and compliments Felix for his great work.

Hyunjin is closest to Felix out of everyone in the tech crew, but Jisung can’t help it. The question, “What about the rest of us?” bitterly slips out.

Hyunjin looks taken aback, but he nervously laughs it off and assures him that everyone else was just as good. The lighthearted atmosphere fades away and is replaced by an awkward tension. Luckily, Mr. Gi saves the day by announcing that it’s time for notes. Hyunjin scurries away, grateful to be out of that situation, and everyone else, Jisung included, is relieved that they can focus on something else.

After notes, Jisung doesn’t drive home immediately. He sits in his car, which is right behind Hyunjin’s. You’ve been letting Hyunjin drive you home recently, and he expects the same thing to happen tonight. He’s holding onto a tiny thread of hope that you will break up with your new boyfriend or come to an epiphany that Hyunjin is not the right person for you. If something like that does happen, he decides, he’ll change his plan and only target Hyunjin. This is truly your final chance to change your fate.

Nothing of the sort occurs. He watches from his rearview mirror as you get into the passenger seat of Hyunjin’s car. After Hyunjin himself gets in, he tugs at the collar of your — his? — hoodie and pulls you in. So, Jisung watches as your two silhouettes become one. Before he can spiral out of control, he starts his car, revving the engine as loudly as he can to try to break the two of you apart. He tears out of the parking lot before he sees what happens next.

It doesn’t matter though. It wouldn’t change anything.

—

Sunday. D-Day.

Sunlight streams in through his bedroom window, and when he checks his phone, it’s nearly 2 PM. He stayed up until four, waiting for the adrenaline to wear off. The melatonin he took before going to bed didn’t kick in until it was too late. Now he groans, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, and stretches until he hears all the bones in his spine pop. The rest of his morning, or rather afternoon, is standard. He rotates between feeling the effects of not enough sleep and being feverish of what’s to come. His heart skips beats every time he thinks about you and Hyunjin’s final scene together. He takes out the vial of monkshood from his desk drawer and gets to work.

Again with double-gloved hands, he carefully fills the vial with water from his bathroom sink. He counted the number of drops of green food coloring Yugyeom added last week, and he drops in the exact amount with the coloring he stole from the culinary classroom. Next he adds more powder around the rim and caps it shut. He shakes it, and the mixture turns into a sickly green. He then wipes the outside of his false vial before disposing of his gloves and tucking the container in his hoodie pocket. The cast and crew shirt he wears over it is bulky, and the lumps it forms conceals the bump made by the container. On his drive to school, he touches it with his free hand to ensure it’s still there.

He’s early again, so he sits with his unsuspecting and unassuming friends in the auditorium. He wants to swap and prepare the vials already, but he doesn’t want Yugyeom to dump them out by accident. For the next ten minutes, he endures Changbin’s complaints about math and the pterodactyl screeching from some minor characters on stage.

Before the tech run through begins, Jisung heads backstage and reorganizes the props in a haphazard fashion so that when Yugyeom sees the mess, Jisung can swoop in and offer to change out the water. Yugyeom gladly lets him take care of it.

Jisung does exactly that, and no one is none the wiser. Both the poison and Juliet’s sleeping potion are laying innocently on the prop table. He smiles at his deft work and cheerfully helps Yugyeom with the rest of the reorganization process.

“Thanks, Jisung,” he says as he sets the swords to the right side. There’s still a clutter of props around. “You’re a lifesaver.”

How ironic. However, he keeps his mouth shut about it. “No problem.”

“Yeah. It was all neat last night, too,” he laments.

Jisung fake sympathetically nods, and Yugyeom continually sighs. They fortunately finish before the doors open, and there’s even time left over for Jisung to pester Felix in the comms.

You and Hyunjin arrive backstage at the same time. Jisung mindlessly replies to the remarks from Felix as he watches the two of you out of the corner of his eye. Hyunjin is being more open about his affection, and you don’t seem to mind one bit. His arms are wrapped around your shoulders, his chin rests on top of your head. You’re babbling to Ryujin about something while your hands are holding onto Hyunjin’s forearms. Jisung’s almost numb to the feeling of anger at this point, and he looks elsewhere.

The lights go out, and the main curtain goes up for the final time. There’s thundering applause before the lights turn back on to reveal the chorus members on the stage. Jisung returns to his usual schedule of following instructions from his stage manager and floor chief and scrolling through his phone. He’s diligent that night, running on and off stage with set pieces. He sees you trying to approach him while waiting, but he pretends to be engrossed in whatever silly conversation is happening in the comms. You finally catch him off guard when you’re finishing up your costume change.

He gets up to drink water — he told Changbin beforehand — and you tap him on his arm. You’re barefoot, and your new shoes are lined up neatly by your feet.

“Hi, Jisung,” you nervously greet. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you for a while now.”

“What did you want to talk about?”

“I just wanted to apologize for being rude about not taking your hoodie a few nights ago,” you quietly say. You don’t even look at his face; your eyes are pinned to the wall. “You were trying to be nice, and I’m sorry for the way I acted. And…” The next part comes out in one rushed breath. “I’m sorry if I led you on. I never meant to do that. Hyunjin mentioned that he thought you were interested in me, and I just wanted to let you know that he and I are dating now.”

“Okay.”

“What do you mean ‘okay?’”

“I understand,” he says, though the monotone voice he uses indicates otherwise. “You didn’t lead on at all. We’re good.”

“Oh! That’s— that’s good!” you reply. You seem relieved, and a little bit of your usual sunny personality is back. “Are you going to District 9 after the show?”

The conversations you have with him always go back to two things: food or the play. He has to stop himself from rolling his eyes. “Yeah, I am. I gotta go.”

“Oh! Sorry!” You step to the side and let him pass.

At the water fountain, Jisung drinks an excessive amount of water, more and more liquid dripping down his chin. He imagines what it will be like when Hyunjin takes the last sip of his life. Will you notice him struggling to stay alive? Will you care? Or will you let the show go on and suffer the same fate yourself?

He heads back and broods in his seat. You have already forgotten about him and are whispering to Yuna about the upcoming scene. He turns the volume of his headset up and joins in on the chatter to forget about you. Jeongin is muttering about how he’s hungry already, and Chan mentions that he can buy something to eat during intermission. Jisung offers to buy him something if he can name the lead actors of the play. Jeongin sighs with exasperation, while everyone else snickers at the joke.

During intermission, Jisung buys a bag of chips from the concessions table and waits in the lobby with Jeongin as he eats. He has nothing better to do in that time.

“This is definitely worth being yelled by Ryujin all those times,” he remarks. “Want one?”

Jisung hasn’t been able to view chips the same way since the first day of rehearsal. He keeps seeing Hyunjin tossing the bag to you and you stupidly smiling at him. He only bought chips for Jeongin since it was the cheapest item available. A bit of anger bubbles inside him, but he tamps it down. “I’m good.”

Jeongin nods. He tips the bag back and catches all the crumbs on his tongue. He then crumples it up and tosses it in the trash can. “See you after the show.”

“Yeah. See you.”

Jisung, instead of waiting by the soundboard, goes backstage and waits with the rest of the floor crew. There’s a group of people — made of actors and tech crew members — playing Word Chains together. You’re sandwiched between Friar Lawrence and Yugyeom.

“Hey, Jisung. Wanna play?” you ask. You still seem a little scared of him based on the way you shrink, but you’re trying to play nice.

Jisung plasters on a false apologetic smile over the snarl that’s threatening to form. “The show’s going to start soon.”

A wave of murmurs breaks out, and everyone scrambles to get ready. Yugyeom goes to reorganize the props again, and you ask Ryujin to retie the ribbon in your hair. Jisung is mildly pleased by the chaos he has created.

Intermission ends, and the play resumes with Juliet meeting Paris. The death scene is only one act away, and it’s suddenly starting to sink in that tonight will be the last time he’ll ever see you walking, talking, speaking, breathing again. And you don’t even know it.

Something inside him relishes the power he holds over your life and Hyunjin’s as well. His fake smile transforms into a real one. Jisung rests his hands behind his head and counts down to the awaited scene. As each scene passes, his heart thumps louder and louder in anticipation.

Yugyeom hands Hyunjin the vial for the last scene, not knowing there is true poison swirling in the water. Hyunjin puts it in his pocket and walks onto stage on cue. Jisung can barely contain his excitement in the moments leading up to Hyunjin drinking the poison.

He lovingly cradles your face with his hand before bringing his lips to yours. It’s the final show, and Jisung supposes he wants to go out with a bang since he kisses you, deep and slow. There’s a mixture of sighs and gasps from the audience. Even a few of the tech crew members are shocked at his brazenness.

Then he brings out the poison, and the audience watches with bated breath as he brings it to his mouth. A preteen girl shouts, “Don’t do it!” and Jisung experiences heart palpitations before realizing that the message is not about the real poison. Hyunjin hesitates momentarily before swallowing, most likely surprised by the sudden flavor. Then he sharply inhales and clutches his chest. He barely gasps his last line before dropping dead. He falls back with a heavy thud. No one expects it to be real.

“Wow, he’s going all out for the last show,” Jisung hears Chan comment.

A wicked grin spreads across Jisung’s face. He imagines the burning sensation in his mouth followed by numbness. The confusion he must have felt! He must have regretted not listening to the girl. Did he assume that it was just some sick prank that would be over in a few minutes, or did he realize what was to come? Did he think of you and what your fate would be?

It doesn’t matter though. Hyunjin’s own lips, tainted with the monkhood powder, will be your downfall.

Even though you’re right by him, you don’t know of his death. You recite your lines, and every word you say about Romeo could very well be about Hyunjin.

Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end. —

O churl, drunk all, and left no friendly drop

To help me after? I will kiss thy lips.

Haply some poison yet doth hang on them.

To make me die with a restorative.

You gently brush the stray locks of his hair from his forehead and lean down. It’s dead quiet, no background music or whispers from the audience. You kiss him slowly, letting the unknown poison reach you.

Thy lips are warm.

When Jisung catches a glimpse of your face, you look uncomfortable. The tingling effect from the monkshood is starting to make your lips swell, and you nervously lick them. Jisung chuckles to himself. Despite all the physical effects you’re feeling, you continue the scene like nothing’s wrong. You pick up the prop dagger and stab yourself, falling back like Hyunjin.

Though Juliet is supposed to be dead, Jisung can see your chest heaving as you struggle to breathe. His own heart is racing as he watches you dying in real time. Your fingers twitch and then falter as you reach out for Hyunjin to check if he’s alright. You must have realized that something is off. However, you can’t shout for help. He knows that your tongue and mouth have gone numb and that the shining light of positivity in you is hoping that it’s all a temporary experience. There’s more shallow gasps and then you stop fighting. Your chest stops moving, and Jisung can hear the sound of a heart rate monitor flatlining in his head.

The rush of euphoria he gets sends him over the edge. Love never made him feel this good. How helpless you must have felt when you could only stare at the lights above you and pray for the sweet release of death. Did you silently beg for the pain to stop, or did you ask for forgiveness?

Jisung lets out a shaky breath and holds his head in his hands. He’s done it. You and Hyunjin will no longer torment him anymore. His grin trembles, his jaw shakes, and he wants to laugh, to celebrate. The actors on stage continue like the two of you are still alive, unaware of the corpses right by their feet.

The lights go out one last time, and the audience erupts in cheers and applause. There’s a stampede of people rushing onto the stage for the curtain call. The rumble of footsteps does not disturb you or Hyunjin from your resting place. The cheery music Chan selected plays, and Jeongin turns the lights back on, revealing a crowd of people around you and Hyunjin, still lying on the floor.

Minho rolls his eyes and kicks at his friend with his foot, saying out loud, “Romeo! It’s me, Mercutio. You’re in heaven now.”

Everyone laughs, thinking it’s an elaborate joke they planned. Even in the comms, Mr. Gi asks, “Did you guys know they were going to do this?”

There’s a resounding chorus of “No.”

“Juliet, why don’t you kiss him awake?” Minho suggests when Hyunjin doesn’t move. Jisung is impressed by his improv skills.

Neither of you even twitch. The audience is eating it up and chanting, “Kiss him! Kiss him!” A few of the actors join in with Yuna being the loudest.

Yeji sighs when it becomes apparent that you aren’t going to stop. She bends down, breaking the immersion, and shakes you. “Hey, c’mon.” When you don’t move, she shakes you harder. “Y/N!”

“You too, Hyunjin,” Minho adds. He nudges him with his foot. “It’s not funny anymore.”

There’s panic in their voices, and no one knows if it’s still part of their mini sketch or not. Jisung glances at Changbin, who is also just as confused as everyone.

“Drama kids being drama kids?” he shrugs.

“I guess,” Jisung replies, hiding the sly note in his voice.

Then comes the revelation. Yeji’s stunned whisper comes over on the speakers: “She’s not breathing.”

For a second, there’s only the cheerful curtain call song. Then there’s chaos — people leaping out of their seats to leave, people too much in a state of stupor to do anything, people screaming, people rushing on stage to double-check. On the outside, he curses with Changbin and consoles Yugyeom who’s pale and looks like he’s ready to throw up. Jisung pretends to be in shock, but on the inside, he’s shouting with glee at the reaction to his handiwork. While Mr. Gi is frantically calling an ambulance, Minho quickly drops to his friend’s side and reports the same thing as Yeji: “He’s not breathing either.”

Another wave of panic hits the auditorium. Minho starts screaming at Hyunjin, begging him to wake up. Yuna has collapsed next to you, and she and Yeji are shaking you violently, pleading for you to stop whatever it is that you’re doing. Chan has the sense to turn off all the mics, so no one has to hear amplified banshee wails from everyone. At least one person faints, and Yugyeom runs to the restroom, one hand clasped around his mouth.

Jisung thinks it’s a glorious scene.

He was right though. You and Hyunjin are — sorry, were — the perfect actors for Juliet and Romeo. Like Shakespeare said:

All the world’s a stage;

And all the men and women merely players.

~ ad.gray

Thank you all for reading! I really didn’t expect the amount of attention this story received, and I hope you all enjoyed it. I know some of you were expecting a happy ending, but here on this blog, if it’s over 5k, someone’s probably going to die :P

Thank you to ad.gold who edited it all and made sure all the details were accurate! Sorry I forgot mic tape existed.

(Shameless self promo time) If you liked this story, you might like:

1000 Roses (ad.gray) - a theatre AU featuring stage manager Chan, lead actress Y/N, all fluff, and no murder; no connection to “In Fair Verona.”

Squirrel and Wife (ad.gold) - (to heal your heart) a fluffy royalty AU featuring princess Y/N and knight Jisung.

Magic Words (ad.gray) - (to heal your heart) if you want to see Hyunjin being resurrected; it’s fluff, I swear; no connection to “In Fair Verona.”

42nd Moon (ad.gold) - (if you’re a masochist and want to shatter your heart further) a werewolf and soulmate AU featuring Jisung and Hyunjin where there may be murder.

Apologies in Advances (ad.gray) - (if you liked getting your hopes up and being let down; the title is important) secret agent AU featuring Minho and Y/N who hate each other but are forced to go on a mission together.

#stray kids #skz #han jisung #hwang hyunjin #stray kids han #stray kids hyunjin #stray kids au #theatre au #high school au #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids fanfiction #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz fanfic #stray kids x reader #yandere #20200923

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phebia · 5 years ago

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Making Family, Chapter One

I still feel like I’m not the best at capturing these character’s personalities so I apologize if anyone is too OOC.

Also, formatting might be weird because I’m transferring this off of Wattpad and I’m too lazy to fix it hehe.

Tags(?): @khearts14

"Selina! Mija, can you get the door?" Geny's voice rang out from somewhere inside the house, momentarily distracting me from coating my lips in the mauve colour I had picked out for orientation this morning. "Yeah!" I shouted back, pursing my lips and taking one last lingering look in the mirror before making my way to the front door. I opened the door just enough to peak out, remembering Ruby's "Lessons of Freeridge" presentation. He gave an updated version every time he saw me, the most recent of which came last night after everyone had cleared out. There was a slightly familiar girl stood on the front porch, but it took me a minute to recognize her. The boys had told me stories upon stories of Monse and there had even been a brief, slightly awkward, group FaceTime call more than a few weeks back. While I was trying to figure out where I knew her from, she was seemingly also confused about my identity. "Monse, right?" I raised my eyebrows and nervously chewed at my lower lip, praying that my confidence was just and she was in fact who I thought she was. A moment later a flash of realization moved through her dark chocolate eyes and then she was smiling at me. "Selina." She pointed a finger at me and nodded, her answer pulling a relieved smile from me. "It's nice to finally meet you. The boys talk about you a lot." I spoke shyly and opened the door wider so that she could step inside. "Likewise." We stood in the doorway for a few awkward seconds, a silence enveloping us until I couldn't take anymore. I awkwardly cleared my throat and looked down at my Jordan's before vaguely gesturing behind me to Ruby's new room. I let Monse lead the way, not wanting to disrupt the reunion about to occur after an entire summer apart and mentally smacking myself for my momentary loss of social skills. "I'm back." Monse sung, clearing her throat and smiling widely as she crossed the threshold into the room. Ruby turned to her, not blinking, instead his eyes moved from her to his end table multiple times. "Can you move that side table?" I arched an eyebrow at the lack of enthusiasm the girl's arrival received. The big talk around the house was that this was supposed to be the reunion of the century, but what I was witnessing was far from that. The boy's effort was lacklustre and underwhelming. Frankly, I had given the girl a better welcome than her two best friends. "No, seriously don't make such a fuss." Monse's smile fell into a sneer and she had no problem displaying her displeasure with the boys. "I've only been gone all summer, but really, it's no big deal." She wandered further into the room, stopping to stand directly in front of her sad little welcome party, eyes narrowed into a glare. Ruby shrugged, a slight nod acknowledging his fuck up while Jamal just smiled by his side. "How was camp?" My cousin's eyes were empty and bored, Ruby surely unimpressed with having to take a break from his big bedroom plans. "Camp was fine. Notice anything new?" A smile of my own appeared on my face as Monse grinned widely, showing off her perfectly straight smile in hopes of a compliment or two. "You got boobs." Both boys spoke simultaneously, their stares never leaving her face and their answers causing Monse's smile to slip off her face. Mine followed soon after, my eyes flashing between the group of three in slight disbelief, not missing the way the younger girl crossed her arms over her chest. "You guys are shit friends." I spoke up for the first time, leaning in the doorway snickering. "She got her braces off." My laughing stopped and I stared directly at the boys, clearly unimpressed at the fact that they didn't seem to realize they were making their friend uncomfortable. All three young teenagers turned towards me; Ruby and Jamal blinking in surprise and Monse shooting me a shy and thankful smile. "We knew that." Jamal nodded, casually waving me off as if they were about to mention that next and hadn't completely missed it. "How did you even know that?" Ruby narrowed his eyes at me, irate as he often was when things weren't going his way. A tiny smirk played on my lips and I took a moment to look him up and down. "Try thinking with your brain instead." I raised my filled in brows for emphasis, the corner of my lips quirking up when Monse thanked me for noticing. "You can wait for Cesar to help." She turned back to the boys and just like her that her frustrated awkward attitude was back. I had better things to focus on now though, my ears perking up at the name. Cesar Diaz had alluded me for far too long and he was one mystery I was dying to know more about. That was most likely because Ruby was so tight lipped about whatever had went down between them. All I knew was that he used to be best friends with the three kids in front of me, but something changed that. Ruby had even gone as far as to prohibit Jamal from telling me what their old friend looked like, just in case I ended up seeing him around town. Despite the boy's best efforts, there was no hiding the fact that something had gone down. Although I was surprised Monse, someone so close to the source, had no idea what had happened either, the immature part of me was just happy I wasn't the only one out of the loop. "Then we'll be waiting a really long time." Jamal revealed as he sat back on his chair and Ruby brushed past Monse with an eye roll. "Why? Where's Cesar?" Monse continued her questioning. "We're not talking to him." The girl either missed the irritated looks Ruby was shooting at her or she simply didn't care. And, based on what I knew about the girl, I'd say it was the latter. "You in a fight?" Her eyes briefly flit to me for a possible answer but all I could do was shrug, just as in the dark as she was. "Well, it wasn't really a fight. It was more like a-" "We're not getting into it." Ruby caught Jamal off, his voice harsh as he shot his friend a pointed look and then turned back to Monse. "Trust us, Cesar's not cool." There was a brief moment where his firm eyes flashed in my direction. His silent attempt at scolding me as well earned him an unimpressed scowl and had me wondering who the fuck he thought he was. "I don't know, I heard he's pretty cool." I hummed, simply commenting to annoy my cousin even further. Ruby snapped his head in my direction and pointed his finger at me, spitting a few words in Spanish at me before humphing and returning to his half made bed. My features melted into confusion at the foreign language. A part of me was glad I wasn't very familiar with it at all so that his words just rolled off of me but the other part of me wanted to be able to sass him right back. Maybe I could at least get Mario to teach me some not-so-nice phrases long distance. "Well, I'm not cool not being cool. And why aren't you at football?" Monse had clearly mastered the art of ignoring Ruby years ago, which was something I was envious of after only a day of living with him. The mention of the sport made Jamal look up from the book he was reading, eyes wide yet refusing to meet anyone's gaze. "We should really get to orientation before those lines get too long." He stood up, his words rushed. "Yeah, I don't want to be too sweaty for my ID. Like Mario said, "It's all about the right first impression." It was slightly impressive how well they changed the subject, neither of them closing their mouths long enough for anyone else to get a word in. "And sticking together!" Then again, Monse seemed to have no problem talking over them. "You're totally deflecting this whole Cesar sitch. So stop being bitches and tell me." I looked on with eager eyes but just when it looked like she was about to break them, Geny's voice once again interrupted things. This time my aunt had the intention of making sure we weren't late to orientation and the boy's used the distraction to start pulling Monse and I out of the house, barely giving me enough time to grab my sunglasses and place them on my head. We were only a few steps down the sidewalk when the shortest of the bunch began complaining about having to walk everywhere and pestering me about when my car would arrive from Waterdown. If I was being honest with myself, I was dreading the entire orientation process and couldn't decide if it would've been better to have the journey take more or less time. Chances were that I'd be the only upperclassman around and if that didn't draw enough attention to me, my size would do the rest. People loved to notice me, and not for the right reasons. The snickers were rarely muffled and the comments were never quiet enough, because nobody really cares if you hear them. The only thing keeping you together is the fact that you've heard it all before. Said it to yourself before, because if you hurt yourself no one else can. But it's only a matter of time before someone gets a little creative and you have another thing to think of when you look into the mirror. After years of ridicule there were countless hateful things lingering in my mind, just begging for a weak moment to escape and push tears out of my eyes. But just thinking about them almost made the tears well up, so instead I focused on the argument Monse was still valiantly keeping alive as I walked between Jamal and Ruby. The boys had taken to staying silent, refusing to even indulge her with argumentative words anymore. The silent treatment was smart, but I wasn't sure it would be enough to deter the fiery girl next to Ruby. "He's the glue of our crew." Despite the lack of responses, she was still trying to force answers out of them. Ruby had previously told me that once you get Monse going there's no stopping her, but I had had doubts. I had always wondered why it was so important to Ruby that I know that, but as I witnessed her grilling the boy's I was very certain it was a warning. Needless to say, all my doubts were gone and I had no intention of being on the receiving end of the Afro-Latino's rage. "That was then, and this is now." Jamal insisted, breaking the stretch of silence much more politely than Ruby could have ever hoped to do so. "Yeah, Cesar ain't shit." As if only to prove my point my baby cousin chimed in as well. The group of kids took a sharp turn into an alleyway and Ruby had to grab me by my elbow to keep me with them. "What?" I asked lowly when he shot me a look. "I don't know where the hell we're going." With a simple shake of his head Ruby was back to staring straight ahead, avoiding Monse's gaze until something he saw made him froze. "Shit, Prophets." The words made me flinch and my heart rate quickly began to pick up. Throughout all my visits to Freeridge I had surprisingly not encountered a Prophet nor a Santo, but everyone made sure I understood who they were and what they were capable. As I watched the trio decked out in green and yellow it wasn't hard to decide I would've much preferred to see a group of Santos as we rounded the corner. They'd be less likely to kill me because I lived on their block. (Another wonderful tip from Lessons of Freeridge). "Be cool." "Ditch your colours." Waterdown wasn't the safest place on Earth but it might as well have been a safe haven compared to Freeridge. I had never been involved in the violent side of Waterdown but moving to Freeridge had thrown me into the middle of a gang war and I very obviously didn't know what to do in this situation. The kids on the other hand were clearly well versed in the danger. Ruby didn't hesitate to pull his hoodie over his head and then proceed to ask if he had ruined his hair after we passed the gang affiliated teenagers. His nonchalant attitude shocked me but I didn't say anything about it. My life before wasn't all sunshine and daisy's, but I was well aware it was better than most people's here and privilege was a tense subject here. I wasn't about to advertise mine. "Yeah." I scrunched my nose up, exaggerating the damage done to his beloved locks, grinning as he pulled out his phone to play with his hair. "Code dread. Code dread. Approaching on your six." My eyebrows furrowed in confusion and I was much less discrete about looking behind me than the others were, fully turning my body to see who was approaching. Recognition flooded me and I did my best to smile at Jasmine but memories of her... lively personality at my welcome party played through my mind. "Yo! You guys going to orientation?" I stayed put, waiting for her to catch up, only for two hands to grab at me and start pulling me away. "Hey, you know my cousin Berto, the fine one, hey?" I was still facing Jasmine, doing my best to listen to her and not fall as my ass at the same time. "His daughter Letty said it ain't nothing, unless your stupid and you can't spell your name. And then you hold up the line and then people get mad." The pace we were moving kept increasing much to my chagrin. The longer this went on the more likely I was to fall and twist an ankle or something, despite my flat shoes. Grace was something I did not have much of. Jasmine frowned as she too noticed that this was no leisurely stroll. "Hey, why are you guys walking so fast? You know I can't keep up. I have asthma." A frown pulled at my features and for a moment my heart hurt, a pit instantly forming in my stomach. I knew what it was like to be that girl. Trying so hard to be friends with people who don't want anything to do you, and then realizing when it's too late. It sucked. Before I knew what was happening I was stopping, my emotions not allowing me to do Jasmine dirty in the same way that so many girls had done me before. "Selina!" Ruby turned and returned to my side when he realized he no longer had a hold on me, whisper yelling at me and shooting me a pleading look. I pouted at him but that didn't do anything, his stare remaining steady and frantic. With a pitiful sigh I turned, keeping pace with the group as they began walking once more. "Sorry, Jasmine, we're having a private convo. Real sensitive stuff. Catch you next time." Monse looped her arm in mine and called out to the other girl, not even bothering to turn her head. The tiny whine that came from behind made my eyes widen and my frown deepen but the others gave me no time to dwell on it as they continued their brisk pace. "That's what you always say." Her voice was steadily fading until all of a sudden her footsteps were fast approaching. A quick glance behind showed Jasmine running towards us, a look of determination on her face. "Is it really that big of a deal?" I turned to where Ruby used to be only to find him and the others running ahead. Out of instinct my legs began to move faster, my head moving between the small squad and the lone girl, my jog light. "Monse, this isn't nice." I scolded the teen closest to me, my words making her turn her head to look at me incredulously. "If you don't run now, you're never gonna get out." Her words made me groan but with one last sorry look back I began sprinting to catch up with the others. Jasmine seemed like a nice enough girl but the last thing I wanted was to get suckered into hanging out with a 14 year old that wasn't a relative or friend of said relative. My cousin and his best friends were bad enough. Besides, I could always get Ruby, Jamal, and Monse to befriend her. As I ran a part of me was unravelling with insecure thoughts about what I looked like running, but a larger part of me was just desperate to keep up with the kids. I would be lost without them, literally. And the last thing I wanted was to be stumbling through Freeridge streets alone. Yet, despite the slight urgency of the situation, I couldn't help but slow down to smile and wave at a woman and her baby as I passed them. However, a moment later I was cursing my baby fever when I heard Jasmine scream my name. A few more blocks passed and I had finally managed to escape Jasmine and catch up with my three original companions. "Man, she is relentless." Jamal gasped as I stopped behind them, placing my hands on my knees as I caught my breath. It had been a long time since I had run at all, let alone ran with that much intensity for that distance. Once my lungs stopped screaming and I no longer felt like I might vomit I straightened out and joined the ranks once more, pulling my sunglasses off the top of my head to untangle them from my crimped hair. "That was mean, guys." I sighed, torn between not being impressed by the childish actions but also being the slightest bit amused. "Come on, Selina. It was a nice save." Jamal shot me his cheesiest smile and I knew I had lost that debate already. "Oh, you're not safe." Monse disagreed, back onto the Cesar issue as if Jasmine had never made an appearance. "Your threats aren't penetrating, okay?" I placed my tinted shades back on my head, allowing them to push back some of the hair that normally framed my face, doing my best to fix my appearance without a mirror. "I'm not telling you what Cesar said." My head shot up at Jamal's slip up, my hands momentarily stopping their adjustment of my cleavage. "Ah ha! So he said something!" Monse had also caught the admission and she had turned around before I could even remove my hands from my bra. "Jamal! Do you need a muzzle?" Ruby growled at Jamal, who had his hand clasped over his mouth, before turning to his other longtime friend. "Monse, no offence, but you're a loose cannon." Although his tone was soft for Ruby, my cousin was digging himself into a deep hole and I instinctively moved to walk in between the two. I wouldn't put it past Monse to jump on his ass, not that she would've been unprovoked. "We're telling you for your own protection." His next words had my jaw dropping and my eyes narrowing. "My own protection?" Monse scoffed, seemingly just as shocked and offended as I was. "Eat a dick." I whirled around and stepped in front of Ruby, getting in his face with my resting bitch face in full effect. If we were being real, Monse had every right to know what caused the rift in the group and Ruby's ignorance and way of handling it was quickly becoming tiresome to me. "Thank you!" Monse exclaimed, nodding at me and turning on her heel to continue walking away from the boys. "Okay, you just made our case in point." Ruby swirled his finger in my face as I backed up and left him and Jamal behind to walk with Monse. "You don't even know, and you're already at Defcon Solange." His matter of fact tone made glare at the stop sign further down the road and run my tongue over my teeth. "Look, I may be nosy about the Cesar thing, but that's all it is. Nosiness. But, don't you ever pull shit like this and tell a girl you're doing it to protect her. That's a dick move, Ruby. Okay?" Upon being met with my fiery glare the Latino swallowed thickly and nodded, but before he could speak grunting filled the street. My eyes immediately moved to find the source of the noise, my pace subconsciously slowing as I saw a group of guys kicking the shit out of someone in front of a dumpster. I gasped quietly as Jamal and Ruby were suddenly squishing me between them, doing their best to block my view of the beating. "Don't look. Keep walking." Jamal scolded me, as if I didn't have the Freeridge street knowledge of a toddler and should know better by now. We silently walked past the alleyway and as hard as I tried I couldn't resist sneaking a few looks over my shoulder. "Why would anyone want to get jumped into 19th street? If it were me, I'd join first street, only one second of pain." Jamal voiced his judgements once we had cleared the side street and no one would be able to hear his lowered voice. "Agreed. And who wants a lifetime commitment at our age?" Ruby nodded in agreement, his voice even lower than Jamal's. A lifetime commitment at 14 might've sounded like a lot to a normal person, but I've been dying for one since I was around that age. My parents were gone the majority of the time, and although they were assholes when they were around, there was nothing I wanted more than to have them with me. Eventually I gave up on that and tried to find a significant bond in my friendships. But, when you're friends with the pretty girls and there's never more than a month where they're single there's too many guys trying to get close just to get into their panties. Flashbacks of fake flirting only to ask about my girlfriends made me shiver. It was the unfortunate reality of being the fat, ugly friend and it was also the story of my life. This time it wasn't the arguing friends to pull me from my thoughts, but the sound of rap music and the rumble of a car approaching. I couldn't stop my head from turning, eyes eager to see what was coming. I also couldn't stop myself from biting my lower lip when I saw the cherry red Impala cruising down the street. "That's hot." I hummed lowly, eyes remaining trained on the vintage Chevy despite the groans my praise received from the boys. My fingers pushed my gold glasses further up my nose as I continued to stare, it was the first nice car I'd seen in Freeridge and the sight of it practically made my toes curl in excitement. "We can't tell you what Cesar said." I looked away from the Impala long enough to see Ruby shake his head in one final plea, that went ignored by Monse. "Fine. Then I'll ask myself." With that she boldly stepped out into the street, forcing the driver of the car to slam on the brakes. "Hey, you crazy?" My view of the driver was obscured even when he yelled out the window at Monse, but his deep voice sent a small shiver up my spine. I found myself shifting closer to the edge of the sidewalk, doing my best to sneak a peak at him and get a better view of the car. A hand grabbed at my wrist to stop me but I yanked away from the touch immediately, turning to look at Ruby who was watching me worriedly. "You know who owns that car?" He gulped and looked at his shoes, avoiding my eyes and refusing to answer my question. When he met my gaze a few moments later I arched an eyebrow at him, silently questioning if he was going to answer me or not. "That's Cesar's older brother, Spooky." My interest was officially through the roof with that answer. I stepped off the curb without hesitation but all my confidence faded as soon as I was stood in the road and I remained a couple meters in front of the car. Monse was looking though the window but I didn't pay her much mind, distracting myself from my anxiety by admiring the vibrant paint and gleaming chrome. It was only when I felt eyes on me that I looked up and glanced through the windshield. A blush quickly warmed my cheeks and I felt a lump forming in my throat when I found that I had gotten caught staring by Cesar's older brother. He tilted his head at me, dark eyes drinking in my appearance, making me insecurely cross my arms over my stomach. Monse glanced in my direction as well, and it was Ruby and Jamal's quiet cursing that was the clue that told me I now had to go join the younger girl. "Selina, you don't have to go." Ruby's whispers came from behind me and I knew he was trying to reassure me. He had witnessed me have a breakdown courtesy of my social anxiety once before and I was sure he would do anything to avoid another one right now. I knew I had to go though, and despite my intimidation and sudden rampant insecurity, something inside of me wanted to get closer to the unfamiliar man anyways. I bit the inside of my cheek and let my arms fall to my sides, clenching my clammy hands into fists and shuffling my way to Monse. By the time I had joined her side and leaned down to see into the car, Cesar's brother was speaking to her again. "It's all good. You just look a little different. What is it?" The sound of his voice made me shiver and I hated to admit that he was undeniably hot. Probably too attractive for his own good. As he waited for a response from Monse his attention turned to me. He shamelessly looked me up and down, his eyes particularly focused on my exposed cleavage. I was sure that by now the small bit of attention had turned me the same shade of red that his car was and when he looked back up and met my stare, it was a surprise that my knees didn't buckle. I shifted my weight around, getting antsy under his gaze, but unable to stop myself from mimicking his actions when he licked his lips. He chuckled at that, the discovery of his dimples making me nibble on my lower lip. "My boobs." For a moment I had forgotten that Monse was there, but I was thankful for her blatant answer. It gave me a chance to shake away the tingles that had been buzzing around my body. "Nah, you got your braces off." Spooky nodded at her, raising an eyebrow as his eyes drifted to check out the assets she was newly sporting. The ever familiar pit of disappointment settled in my gut until a laugh rumbled from his chest. "Let me know when you look that." He tilted his chin towards me and I couldn't stop my face from morphing into one of shock. However, it wasn't long before a shy smile was pulling at my lips and I looked to the ground coyly, not missing the smirk stretching across his face. Most girls might've been uncomfortable under his intruding stare and bold words but the only thing making me queasy was the flashes of hope and insecurity tightening my stomach. I might've stood there and let him talk to me like that for hours if it wasn't for the affronted look Monse shot us both. I met the girl's gaze, instantly seeing her desire to leave in her shining eyes. "You're tripping." I looked back at the cholo behind the wheel and shook my head, doing my best to keep my voice steady. "Nice '63." I patted the bottom of the open window and pursed my lips into a smile as I began to stand up straight. His eyebrows furrowed and he huffed, looking at me as if I had just confused him, but his cocky smile never faltered. I followed Monse back towards the boys, missing the way that Spooky craned his neck to get a better look at my retreating form. "Hey!" His voice stopped me in my tracks, and it took me only a second to turn around and see him leaning out his window again. "I'll see you around princesa." He kissed his teeth and gave me one last once over before ducking back into the car and beginning to drive off, his chuckles barely reaching my ears over the loud rap music and sound of my heart racing. My brain was a muddled mess of thoughts, the excited and happy buzz clashing with the negative realism that always lingered in my head. I stood in the street, the warm feeling lingering in my stomach despite the fact that I was reminding myself that guys like him don't go for girls like me. Caroline would've called that thought a personal attack, but in my eyes it was just a simple fact. He could have any girl he wanted on her knees in front of him with a single smile. That didn't match up with my rolls and squishy bits, which pushed people away. The more I got lost in my thoughts the more stupid I felt about how easily I had gotten my hopes up. Apparently I had learned nothing from my past experience with boys. "Selina." Jamal's voice shattered through my spiralling thoughts, making me realize that I had been watching the car disappear down the street. I mumbled an apology as I rejoined the group, shaking my head to rid myself of the possibly impending breakdown. Ruby appeared behind me and tossed his sweater over my chest as we all waited for Monse to say something. "When did Oscar get out?" The faintest hints of a smile pulled at my lips at the revelation of his real name. "Six weeks ago." Ruby admitted, hovering over me as if I had just been assaulted and wasn't simply trying to get rid of the butterflies swirling around my stomach. "Now it makes sense. Whatever Cesar said, he said to impress Oscar. Cesar's terrified of his brother." Monse had fizzled out a bit after her interaction with Spooky, but the determination in her voice never wavered. "Along with everyone else." Jamal piped up from behind us all. His words made me furrow my eyebrows and I couldn't keep myself silent. "Why?" Sure, there had been something about the man that made me freeze up but I put that onto my anxiety. The look the younger boy was shooting me said that there was something else going on, though. "Oscar's the leader of the Santos." He explained and suddenly the tattoos and Spooky made sense. The naive part of my brain said that just made him hotter but I refused to be that dumb. Stupid thoughts like that would get you killed in Freeridge. As the others bickered I came to the realisation that I hadn't even glanced at Cesar during the entire ordeal and I still had no clue what the shunned squad member looked like. I didn't dwell on it for very long though, distracted by a sound coming from behind us. "Tax time, bitches!" "Shit, Latrelle." I froze in place and shakily turned around with the others, but most of the intimidation factor was lost the second I landed eyes on the scrawny kid behind us. The only keeping me weary was Ruby's countless tales of Freeridge muggings. "Hands up, money out." I was surprised at how quickly the squad's hands shot up, and despite my urge to say something I bit my tongue as I raised mine. "How can we take money out with our hands up?" Ruby rambled from his spot next to me, his comment making me shift uneasily. "I know you bookheads got that back to school gwop." He sneered at Ruby before meeting my wide eyes and I was suddenly glad for the black hoodie tied around my shoulders. "It's orientation day. So technically, we're neither back to school nor out of school. We're-" I slowly reached over and clamped a hand over Monse's mouth before she could say anything else. "We don't have any money." Ruby shook his head, but it didn't take more than a glare from Latrelle for Jamal to mention the $20 Geny had slipped Ruby before we left the house. "Really?" I hissed, reaching over and smacking Jamal on the back of the head as Latrelle walked off with the money. "At least you have your own room." He swatted my hand away and grinned at a fuming Ruby, the change of subject luckily enough to distract him.

My plans for after orientation had been to go home, avoid all mirrors and drown my feelings in ice cream. Maybe let my thoughts wander to a certain cholo for bit. They had not been to walk Jamal and Monse home. But when the girl looked up at me with wide eyes and an even wider smile, I couldn't say no. I should've said no. I realized that as soon as we stopped across the street from a house with a multitude of Santos outside of it. Most of them were spread out drinking or playing cards. My eyes moved over a younger boy sitting on a couch who I assumed to be Cesar, before they finally settled on Oscar who was sat on a crate next to his brother. My tongue peaked out of my mouth as I watched him lift a weight over his head, the veins in his arms and the way his face scrunched up with effort distracting me from Jamal and Monse's persistent bickering. "Selina, if someone breaks up with you over text, is it official?" The question caught me off guard and forced me to pay attention to the teenagers once more. "Uh, yeah." I answered, not following where he was going with the question. "Then consider me the text." I chuckled, surprised at his metaphor. "You've been dumped!" Monse rolled her eyes and grabbed my wrist, turning towards the house, clearly done with Jamal's antics. A flash of panic flooded through me at the thought of accompanying her to the front yard, not jumping at the idea of standing in front of the intimidating group. "Wait, please don't go." Jamal grabbed her one again, relief washing over me when she turned back to him. "Please, you're... You're not safe." Suddenly my anxiety was no longer my biggest concern. "Why?" Monse and I both questioned at the same time, earning us an exasperated look from Jamal. "Because you've... blossomed." He didn't even bother looking at me, all his focus directly on Monse. "Blossomed?" A small smirk appeared on my face at the stupid euphemism, but Monse hadn't caught on yet. Much to Jamal's chagrin. "Popped. Busted out. Puffed your party pillows. Whatever you want to call your new cha-cha-bingos. These new homies he's hanging with, they're thirsty." All I could do was blink at the rambled outburst. Jamal was something special, and I wasn't sure if I'd ever get used to him. With one last glance at Monse's chest he shoved his sweater into her arms, earning a giggle from me which was quickly silenced by Monse's next words. "That's why I'm bringing Selina." My jaw dropped and I whipped my head towards her. It was one thing to stand across the street and make sure she was okay, but I had no business strutting up there with her. "Mine don't have anything on hers." I smiled for a moment at her words, my face quickly falling when I remembered what her plans for me were. "Besides, Oscar was practically foaming at the mouth for her." I spluttered and smacked her hands away as she reached to perch my boobs up higher. "He doesn't give a shit about me." I urgently whispered, wildly pointing at the gang leader who now had a beer in his hand. Both kids ignored me in favour of continuing their staring contest until Jamal broke. "I hate when you're right." He muttered as I rolled my eyes and swallowed the lump in throat, coming to terms with the fact that I was going whether I liked it or not. I shifted my weight around anxiously as I appeased Monse by emphasizing my cleavage a bit more. "Okay! Don't worry, girls! I got your back... from right here." Jamal's voice faded away as we approached the house together. "Why did I have to come?" My words were practically a whimper and I found myself clasping my hands together in front of me, nervously picking at my nails as we got closer. "Shh, it'll be fine." Having a 14 year old shush me made me blink and look around, embarrassment warming my face a bit. As much as I wanted to trail behind, I remained in step with Monse and when she came to a stop in front of Cesar I just so happened to stop in front of his big brother. Spooky's eyes met mine as he peered at me and took a long sip from his Corona, my eyes following his movements when he ran his hand down his face and wiped the lingering drops of alcohol away from his mouth. "I need to talk to you." As Monse spoke, my eyes flit around the yard and I anxiously shifted my shoulders, noticing all the eyes on us for the first time. "I'm listening." I arched an eyebrow at Cesar's response, very aware of how out of place he looked amongst the Santos. No matter how hard he tried to appear, his act was anything but convincing. "Privately?" Monse pushed, her request making Cesar sigh and look away from her. I could still feel Oscar's gaze on me but I clenched my jaw and continued to focus on the kids. "Yeah, we can go inside." Cesar nodded but almost seemed reluctant to say the words, still looking anywhere but Monse. Spooky's heavy stare was suddenly no longer on me and he was clearing his throat loudly, his actions causing both his brother and I to look in his direction. He looked up at me as he took a sip from his beer, the eye contact causing my stomach to clench. As he lowered his drink he nodded his head at me, shooting me the same grin from our earlier interaction. I tilted my head towards the ground to hide my red cheeks and pursed my lips to fight off a smile. "But, uh, if you wanna sit on my face, you gotta put that mouth on pause so I can concentrate." Cesar's words made my head snap up and my jaw drop, my shocked stare drilling into the side of his face. The guys around the yard all began to laugh at the comment and our reactions, and before I knew it Monse was gone. "Monse!" My head turned and I called out for her retreating form but she never looked back, and I couldn't even blame her for abandoning me there. If it were me in her position I probably would've ended up crying in front of the gang members. Earlier, all I had wanted was to be as far away from this place as possible but now that I had my chance to leave something was holding me there. Monse had spent the entire day defending Cesar and I'd be damned if I let him disrespect her without a care in the world. With Monse gone all eyes were on me, but I ignored the other Santos in favour for bending over to be face with face with the boy stretched out on the couch. I clenched my jaw and narrowed my eyes at him, too angry to notice Oscar leaning over for a better view of my ass. "You might wanna start using your fucking brain if you want to stop jerking it to pictures of Ruby's Abuelita and get some real pussy." His brown eyes widened with every word I spoke and flashed to my hand when I momentarily jerked it along to my words. Murmurs and laughter came from the onlookers but I never took my attention off of the teenager in front of me. A part of me expected some sort of response from him, but all he could do was stare at me, proving for a fact that he was far from hard. I dragged my eyes over his form, visibly unimpressed and humphed, standing back up and turning to leave. "Hey mami, you're more than welcome to stay." I hadn't gotten more than a few feet away when Spooky's voice froze me in place and had my heart climbing into my throat. I shakily turned back around, eyes starting on him before moving across the other Santos. "Looks pretty packed." I ignored the empty spots next to Cesar and licked my lips nervously, not missing the way Oscar's eyes followed my actions. "I got a spot for you right here." As Spooky patted his lap, his friends whistled and jeered but all I could do was leer at him in embarrassment. My arms instinctively crossed over my stomach in an attempt to make myself smaller and as he pursed his mouth into a self-satisfied smirk I had to look away, before I ended up perching myself on his lap. "Where'd all that spice go, hyna?" Oscar called out to me again but I couldn't hold his stare for long and soon I was rushing away, not bothering to wait for Jamal or Monse. "Selina? Are you okay?" The two of them were hurrying to catch up with me, and even though we were well down the street from the house my pace didn't slow. "What did they do to you?" I finally stopped and whirled around to face them, throwing my arms out to the side and shrugging. "Nothing." I admitted, hating how easily flustered I became around people. All it took was a few suggestive comments and I turned into a useless pile of mush. Maybe my anxiety was to blame, or my lack of experience with boys. The guys in Waterdown would never even bat an eye at me, let alone waste their time flirting. It was strange to be seen. Scary to be seen. And yet, I wanted him to see me. "Look, I'll catch you guys later." The friends stared at me with concerned eyes before sharing a look between them. "You're good from here, right?" They were much safer on Freeridge streets than I was currently, but I still found myself asking. Jamal looked like he was going to protest but Monse spoke before he could. "Yeah. We're good." She smiled. "You know how to get back to Ruby's from here, right?" I nodded, forcing a smile onto my face before saying goodbye and starting the short walk home.

When I got back to the house I decided not to mention the short visit to Cesar's house to Ruby, not knowing how'd he react or what he'd have to say. There wasn't much to say anyways, nothing had really happened between Oscar and I, and I was sure that Monse was looking forward to telling Ruby about what an asshole Cesar had been herself. I was glad I chose to keep my mouth shut because the moment I entered the house I was affronted by a glowering Ruby. I listened to him whine and complain about his new living situation while helping him move Abuelita's things into his room. But the moment he suggested bunking with me I was out, telling him that I had promised his mom I would take the twins to the park. That had been a complete lie, but I would've done anything to get out of that situation. It took me a while to wrangle the twins but eventually we were ready to go and Geny had given me the okay to take them. As we were stepping out the door a hand clamped down on my shoulder making me jump. "What?!" I cried, half expecting to see Ruby or the boogeyman behind me. However, spinning around showed Abuelita, the keys to her Station Wagon in her hand and a knowing glimmer in her eyes. "Thanks." I smiled as I reached out for the keys, pleasantly surprised that she trusted me to take her car even though I might as well have still been a stranger. "You have your license, right?" She pulled the keys back momentarily, her voice laced with suspicion. "Yes, Abuelita. I'll let you laugh at the picture when we get back." I sighed, rolling my eyes softly. "Good. Have fun, mija." My promise returned the smile to her face and she handed the keys over without another problem. If getting the twins out of the house had been hard, getting them into the car was near impossible. I managed though, and within a few minutes we were pulling away fro the house. We had hit our first red light by the time I realized I had no clue where the nearest park was, much to the twins amusement. Luis was ready to tell me the moment I offered to buy them juice at the park, but Luisa made him hold off until I made the promise of ice cream, then they were more than happy to shout out directions to me. When we arrived I forced them to run around for a bit before buying them both a Popsicle off of the slightly unnerving ice cream man. I sat down on a bench facing the play structure and opened their ice cream for them, letting them run wild and wincing at the thought of how sticky they'd be when they returned to me. A couple hours passed and I spent most of my time closely watching the twins, paranoid that something might happen to them. Luckily for me they had worn themselves out before sunset and I had them home in time to take a bath before supper. After dinner I helped Geny wash up and tidy the house, despite her assurance that she was perfectly fine doing it alone, and on my way to my bedroom I dropped my drivers license into Abuelita's lap, smiling tiredly when I heard her laugh of victory. The sun had dipped below the horizon a while ago and that made me feel a bit better about how tired I was. I shamelessly swapped out my proper clothing with an oversized t-shirt and pair of panties, crawling under the blankets after scrubbing my makeup off my face. Just as I closed my eyes my phone buzzed from it's place on my side table, a text from Ruby lighting up the screen. Cesar thing explained tomorrow.

Next Day*

"And then Cesar said that he smashed Monse!" Ruby finished his long explanation with a gasp for breath, filling his lungs with air after ranting without a breath for a solid five minutes. He had dragged me out of bed at noon and sat on the toilet as I did my makeup, obviously ready to relieve himself of his secrets. His final outburst made me pause, my orange lipstick hovering over my pouted lips. "And did he?" I prompted, chancing a glance at the boy to my left. My casual tone and question left him bewildered, almost offended at even the simple suggestion. "Definitely not." Ruby shook his head with a scoff, both of us rolling our eyes at each other. I mumbled out an apology simply for the sake of moving on with the conversation, smacking my lips together and leaving the bathroom with Ruby trailing behind me. The twins barrelled past in a storm of chaotic energy, forcing me to stop in my tracks and causing Ruby to run into me. The two of us shared a tired look, continuing to the kitchen where I began rummaging around for some sort of breakfast. Ruby sat at the table, his head in his hands and his mouth finally still, allowing me to pour myself a bowl of cereal with some peace and quiet. "Mijo, I need your help with something." "Can't Selina help you?" I paused my hunt through the fridge when I heard my name, eyes finally landing on the milk as I kept my head in the fridge and waited for Abuelita's response. "No. She's eating." Ruby's groan of defeat meant that I was in the safe. I slowly pulled my head out of the fridge, spoon hanging out of my mouth and wide eyes finding what I had escaped from. "Heh, my bad." I chortled, sarcasm leaking from my fake sympathy as I spotted the sewing kit and bright pink fabric. The spoon muffled my words but my cousin had heard them loud and clear and I could feel his glare on me as I sat at the table. His cold stare barely wavered as I ate my cereal and he was forced to stand on Abuelita's small pedestal. I shot him a teasing wink as I stood and placed my dishes in the sink, eagerly making my way to the living room to get a better view of the show. I dropped down onto the empty sofa with a slight bounce, tucking my legs to my chest and resting my chin on my knees. The longer we sat there the more the dress came together and the better things got. At some point I had pulled out my phone and hadn't stopped taking Snapchats since, my distracting laugh the soundtrack to most of the videos. We were meant to meet Jamal and Monse a while ago to discuss the Cesar issue but now that I knew the big secret, I didn't really care all that much. While Ruby begged to leave I remained content on the couch, shifting around every so often to get another angle of him in his princess dress. His phone had been stolen by Abuelita, so it wasn't that surprising when Monse burst through the front door wondering what the hold up was. "What's going on?" She asked, annoyed eyes taking in the sight before her. I sat up and aimed my phone at the irate girl for a moment before focusing back on Ruby. "I think it's pretty obvious." "Something wonderful." Ruby wallowed in self pity while I laughed, probably enjoying his misery a bit too much. "Great. So, walk me through the moment Cesar said what he said." My eyebrows raised and my lips puckered when I realized Monse had come over for the information I had been told this morning. "Don't worry about it." Ruby's refusal to tell the girl anything wasn't making any sense. Monse already knew what Cesar said, what was the point of trying to hide anymore from her? The kid was making things unnecessarily hard on himself. "There you again." Monse scoffed, back to square one with Ruby. "There you go again what?" The short boy snapped back at, looking more like a sassy princess than anything else at the moment. "Keeping things from me. You gotta stop withholding, God damn it!" I sighed, already tired of the argument. With my mood deflating by the second I rubbed the bridge of my nose and put my phone down as Monse apologized to Abuelita for her language. "You should just tell her." I suggested, throwing my hands up exasperatedly when I became the target of Ruby's short temper. Before I could bite back Monse was pulling Ruby out the front door, leaving me to squeeze my eyes shut groan loudly to myself. "He's a puto sometimes, you know that?" I opened my eyes and looked to Abuelita, sliding myself forward to sit on the edge of the couch and try to catch a glimpse of the duo on the front porch. "Si." Abuelita's casual tone and solemn nod made me stare at her for a few seconds before a loud laugh burst out of my chest. "Bravo." We both leaned in and winked at each other, but our laughter came to a halt when Ruby came running in yelling about Monse was on her way to kill Cesar. He fumbled trying to get the quince dress off his body and I stood up to help, not getting any time to brag about how I had used a Spanish term correctly all on my own. I waited at the door and texted Jamal while Ruby rushed to his room to change, following after him when he ran out the door. Albeit my pace was much more relaxed than his, a part of me hoping that Monse would at least land a solid hit before someone broke things up. We met Jamal on the way and I made sure to stay relatively close to the boys, not wanting to get lost in the dark streets alone. I slowed down as we approached Cesar's house, letting the boys break through the crowd of Santos to reach Monse. I lingered behind, a proud smile pulling at my features when I saw that she had gotten her hands on Cesar. Ruby and Jamal pulled her slender form off of their old friend and I crossed the lawn as they continued to tug her backwards. I didn't even spare a glance at the barking men behind me, too invested in the struggle going on. I stood off to the side, hands slid comfortably into my back pockets, unable to hide my wince when the boys told Monse she was being crazy. "Crazy? I'm crazy?" As expected she pulled herself out of their arms and turned her anger onto them. "Calm down. Breathe." I shot Ruby a pitiful look and groaned through my teeth, his words only making Monse's fury burn hotter. "Don't you patronize me! I don't need you! Any of you!" She pushed Jamal out of her way, her actions making me tilt my head in surprise. It was obvious she was pissed off, but she was about to cross a line. "I was just trying to keep our crew together, but since I'm the only one who cares, you're all dead to me! I'll survive on my own!" Her fiery eyes met mine and a second later she was gone, her angry tirade of hurtful words having silenced everyone. "God damn, you guys pissed her off." I broke the silence after a few seconds, a smile of disbelief turning my lips upwards even though the situation was far from funny. Both boys turned their shell shocked stares onto me but I had already turned and began walking away. "Yeah, and what are we supposed to do about it?" Ruby yelled after me, frustration and worry lacing his voice. I threw my arms out to the side and shook my head. The last thing I right now wanted was to play therapist or life coach. "Not my problem." I called over my shoulder, not bothering to look back at the defeated friends. As I continued my casual stroll down the street my eyes flashed around the darkness and it didn't take long for the shadows to put me on edge. Walking around Freeridge alone, at night, was not a smart thing to do. So, I quickly turned around, slight panic setting in when I saw that Ruby and Jamal had already started down the opposite end of the street. "Hey, wait though! I'm gonna walk back with you guys!" I called out to them, the darkness sending a shiver up my spine and pushing me to lightly jog to catch up. I breezed past the house where all the Santos still stood, chancing a quick glance at them and catching Spooky's eye from where he sent on a ledge. I shot him a quick grin before turning back to the boys, my light jog turning into more of a sprint until I caught up to them. "You know, I've ran more during my two days in Freeridge than I did in two years in Waterdown."

Next Day*

The next day Monse had spent her morning across the street at Jasmine's house in an act of rebellion against the boys, and I been peer pressured into going over there and trying to get her to forgive them. I had meandered over there in a pair of grey sweatpants and a cropped Coca Cola t-shirt, white sandals on my feet and sunglasses covering my tired eyes. "What's good?" I yawned as I entered the front yard, ignoring the suspicious look Monse shot me and stretching out on the steps next to her. Jasmine accepted me eagerly, talking excitedly about we were all going to join dance together. To conserve her joy I remained silent, eyes admiring my white pedicure and not mentioning the fact that I would most certainly not be joining dance. Or any other extra curricular activity for that matter. I just wanted to get this stupid fifth year over with. I had been so close to graduating back home, but when things started to go down the drain school was my last priority. Which left me here, doing an extra year of high school, which was far from common in the US as Ruby had pointed out to me. Despite my refusal to join dance at school, I couldn't help myself from standing up when Jasmine added music to her awkward moves. I bopped over to her, an ear splitting smile lighting up her face as I joined her dancing, not particularly caring if anyone currently around saw me. As I twisted my hips I saw Monse wandering towards the boys out of the corner of my eye. "Damn Selina, you gotta teach me that." Jasmine had suddenly grabbed my arms, her eyes flashing between my face and my hips, effectively preventing me from watching whatever would happen between the three across the street. I smiled sheepishly at her, unsure about how to tell her I didn't know how to each her because it wasn't something I could explain, I just did it naturally. Despite that, I still ended up spending most of my dad attempting to teach the young Latina how to move her hips to the music. By the time I got home Ruby, Jamal, and Monse had made up and I had worked up a sweat. I knew that Ruby would take control over the bathroom tomorrow morning so I did as much preparation for tomorrow as I could before going to bed, ready to fight the short boy in the morning if I had too.

Next Day*

"Selina, let's go!" I clenched my jaw at Ruby's shout, releasing the last section of my hair from Geny's curling iron and quickly unplugging the heated tool before rushing out of the bathroom. If Ruby hadn't taken 45 minutes to perfect his hair this morning I would've been done ages ago, so it was technically his fault we were running late. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and followed Ruby out the door, both of us calling a goodbye over our shoulders. We eventually met up with Jamal and Monse, the kids abnormally silent until Monse slowed to a stop across from Cesar's house. She stared, as if she was waiting for said boy to make an appearance. She'd wanted to kill him the other night and yet here she was waiting on him, and I was reminded that I couldn't keep up with freshman drama anymore. "He's not coming with us." "And why would you want him to?" I remained silent as the boys spoke in defeated tones, disappointed to be going into high school without Cesar even if they had been the ones to kick him from the group in the first place. Monse ignored them both and crossed the street, Jamal calling out to her and the three of us watching her go. "See, bitches be bonkers." Jamal turned to Ruby as he began to follow Monse, his comment earning him an offended look from me. "And boys ain't shit." I retorted, crossing the street as well. The three of them gathered at the end of the walkway while I stayed further back, leaning against a tree and noting the Impala was missing from the driveway. After a few tense moments of waiting the front door opened, the sight of Cesar making me stand up a bit straighter. Surprise flooded my body at his appearance. I watched him walk towards the group, a small grin appearing on my face. The four of them turned and started down the sidewalk again, Monse and Cesar walking behind Ruby and Jamal. I trailed behind, watching Monse and Cesar with a knowing glimmer in my eyes. Something had happened. "I can't do this. I can't keep a secret." Jamal broke the group silence. "It's gonna make me implode. I don't know why anybody keeps secrets." The stress of his false football career had been driving the boy insane, and if I were to guess I'd say he didn't have much pretending left in him. "There's something I need to tell you." My eyebrows raised in interest when Monse shared a nervous look with Cesar. Whatever she was going to say though was disrupted by the sound of gunshots ringing through the air. The noise made me jump and look around in a panic, looking to the kids in disbelief when they didn't even flinch. ".44!" They all called, laughing meanwhile my heart had jumped into my throat and my hands were suddenly clammy. In all my days spent in Freeridge I hadn't heard or seen a gun, and that was shown in my reaction. I knew I'd have to get used to it, I just hoped it happened quickly. I didn't want to spend forever on edge. "Cesar." A voice that always sent shivers down my spine came from our right, and sure enough there was Oscar in his red Impala. He nodded his head at him and we all came to a stop at the same time the car did. An expectant purse of my lips was the only reaction I had to the boy backing up and immediately getting into his brother's car. Spooky eyed the others for a second and took one last lingering look back at me before slowly driving off. I remained on the sidewalk while the others traversed into the road, all of us watching the car disappear. "What were you gonna say?" "Cesar... we need to save him."

#spooky x reader #spooky imagine #oscar diaz x reader #oscar diaz imagine #on my block #on my block imagine #plus size fic #plus size imagine #plus size reader #oscar diaz #spooky

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hanmajoerin · 5 years ago

Text

Fun fact about my newest WIP, Lost Time: I wrote most of the first chapter while I was drunk and got way too excited about finishing a chapter of anything that I posted it before editing it sober 🙈. I just finished writing the second chapter of the story and will have it edited and posted by the end of the weekend or early next week. That being noted, I wanted to repost the edited version here for your viewing pleasure. I’ll be making a separate post with a preview for chapter two shortly!

It’s been updated on AO3 and Fanfiction.Net as well!

Kagome found her gaze fixated on her high school uniform which sat neatly in the back of a blue locker. Soft shadows hugged the navy and beige fabric as a soft sound—almost like white noise or static—seemed to embrace her thoughts. Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, Kagome reached out and grabbed her clothes. Exhaling slowly, she turned away from the locker so that when she opened her eyes nothing would have changed.

It was hard to believe that a year had passed since the Bone Eater’s Well stopped working. Like a catalyst, the broken connection between her time and InuYasha’s changed so much about Kagome without having to change itself. Her attendance soared, her old lifestyle came slamming into her weekdays, her acquired fear of the darkness felt like a slow burn even though it wasn’t, and now she had invented ways to carry the consequences.

Even though her friends in the Feudal Era were alive and well, they weren’t here. Kagome supposed she was grieving but she felt as if she should be... happier. Miroku’s wind tunnel must have vanished so he and Sango were probably married with a child on the way. Shippo was probably having a lot of fun staying in the village and playing with kids his own age while InuYasha... everyone always said that he was restless in the village, but Kagome liked to think he was somewhat happy. Not that happy and InuYasha often mixed, but Naraku and the Sacred Jewel were defeated, he should at least be able to relax.

The young high schooler sighed, imagining InuYasha asleep on her bed. He always appeared angelic especially when a soft pink comforter acted as an unintentional backdrop. But once he was awake, he and Shippo could easily tie for the title of “Most Mischievous.” Remembering the stories Gramps told her about how he ran circles around the table left Kagome hoping that, at the very least, her half-demon companion wasn’t driving the villagers insane.

“Higurashi!” Yua Watanabe, the archery club’s captain, called out with a slight wave.

Kagome dropped her hands from the ties of her hakama, offering her senior a soft, “Hi, Watanabe.”

As Watanabe approached, Kagome gulped, attempting to swallow the idea of InuYasha. “Thanks for all of your hard work this year. I’m really glad you joined the club!” Yua exclaimed with a carefree ease that Kagome envied.

“Thank you; being able to do archery is important to me.”

Yua nodded a few times in agreement, not at all able to comprehend the meaning behind Kagome’s remark. She continued talking, also unaware of how Kagome’s thoughts about the past crawled back past her throat to nestle in her mind. She never asked to leave her double life behind, was never given a chance to choose.

“Oh, and we’re really looking forward to having you start training to compete next year. I know you’ll do well!”

Kagome flashed Yua another modest smile but before she could thank her for a second time, she yawned. “Excuse me,” Kagome apologized. Another large yawn stretched at her consciousness. “I’m just going to go to bed now...”

The world returned to Kagome slowly. She blinked her eyes against an overwhelming amount of deep browns and warm oranges. The ceiling above almost looked like the wood roofing of a hut and the unmistakable popping fire and chirping crickets sounded like a lullaby. It’s almost like I’m back in the Feudal Era, she thought to herself as she yawned. Just as she was about to turn and settle back into sleep, she heard him.

“You’re awake.”

InuYasha’s voice sent Kagome lurching forward, all thoughts of sleep vanishing instantly. “InuYasha!” she exclaimed, her heart beating as quickly as her head spun. The high schooler clutched at her chest with uncertainty, brown eyes daring to take in the telltale colors of silver and amber. She spent so many days longing for them to come into view.

“Hey,” InuYasha began, resting his hands on her shoulders. When—how did I come back? Kagome asked herself as she reached up to grasp one of the half-demon’s hands. She never realized that his calloused skin could feel like a balm, working without delay to relieve this past year’s emotional build up. InuYasha was seated properly before her, his face highlighted by firelight and grounded by a somber expression.“You shouldn’t be pushing yourself right now. Kaede said you should rest.”

Kagome’s eyes had to be shining as he—InuYasha!— gingerly lowered her down to the floor. She could feel moisture building bridges across her waterline, too. Of course there were so many questions she needed to blurt out, but watching InuYasha pull a thin blanket up past her shoulders stilled her. Kagome was just happy he was here. He felt so real; his touch, the timbre of his voice—everything about this InuYasha. If she was dreaming, she didn’t want to wake up. “I can’t believe you came for me,” Kagome croaked out because she always knew that he would.

“Of course I did, stupid,” InuYasha chided, crossing his arms. A small giggle filtered past Kagome’s lips as he turned up his nose. When the schoolgirl fantasized about her reunion with InuYasha, he never acted this casual. They spent a little more than a year apart from each other for the first time since they met and it was entirely too long. Had she not been so wrapped up in her own emotions, Kagome may have chastised him back. “Would have been easier for me to do that if you stayed hidden instead of charging out of the brush like that. You could’ve gotten seriously hurt, Kagome.”

Kagome furrowed her brow slightly at the comment. “What?” She asked, wiping away a tear with her index finger.

InuYasha thrust his nose even further in the air. “Keh, don’t play innocent; damn ogre’s club wasn’t that hard, I was fine.”

Kagome frowned as his words sunk in. “I...” She brought a hand to her temple, rubbing it lightly as she tried to process what the half-demon told her.

All traces of agitation scurried from InuYasha’s features at her motion. “Kagome, is your head bothering you? Kaede gave me some medicine to help with that, let me get it for you.”

Before he could walk away, Kagome grabbed at his pants, instantly stilling him. “Kagome...?”

“Where’s Kaede?”

“‘Dunno,” InuYasha shrugged. “She probably went home or somethin’.” Lightly shaking her hand away, he walked to the fire to settle the kettle over its steady flames.

So InuYasha has his own hut and he wants me to stay, Kagome thought to herself. A molten smile spread, matching the warm blush she was sure dusted her cheeks.

Kagome rolled to her side to watch InuYasha as he babysat his kettle. Everything from the painted scowl to the delicate way he mixed tea was deliberate and when he was beside her once more, she pulled herself into a sitting position effortlessly. As he passed her the cup, his hands lingered against hers. It was glaringly clear that InuYasha wanted to pick up where they had left off a few weeks before they defeated Naraku. Still, Kagome couldn’t help but laugh slightly, not used to an InuYasha who was anything but abrasive. “You’ve sure grown up some,” she pointed out, tilting her head to the side.

“Uh...” InuYasha replied, breaking their contact to shove his hands into the voluminous red sleeves of the fire rat. “You uh, really hit your head there, didn’t ya?” Kagome frowned again—hit her head? Didn’t listen to him? She was missing something but before she could even ask, InuYasha was grasping her free hand and squeezing it tightly. “Listen, when I told you to stay hidden, it was only because I knew I could handle that dumb-ass ogre on my own. I should have been paying more attention to you, though. You’re still learning and I—I should have protected you. I’m sorry.”

Kagome shook her head as InuYasha bowed his own. He wanted forgiveness when absolutely nothing he admitted happened to them. Kagome wriggled her hand from InuYasha’s and winced, rubbing her forehead again. “Are you real?” She nearly whispered, tears forming once more. Kagome was used to the dreams—it would be so easy for him to deny it or stumble over his words or maybe just admit that all of this was another fantasy. But when she saw the anxiety accumulating across every aspect of her half-demon’s body, Kagome had a feeling that she really was awake. “It’s just that I—“ she cut herself off. She needed to stand and maybe get fresh air or something. The world quickly spun beneath her feet but InuYasha was there, catching her and he was really there—they were really together. “Oh InuYasha,” she stated, closing her eyes and letting the tears glide past her cheeks.

InuYasha froze the moment she buried her head against his chest, but it didn’t take long for him to wrap his arms around her. “I’m supposed to be the one who’s upset,” he reminded her, hands softly stroking her hair. “You’re really starting to worry me, Kagome.”

Kagome shook her head, lifting her dewy eyes up with a sense of relief she thought would never materialize.

InuYasha was different than she remembered and yet exactly the same. Just being around him set her at ease and she could feel some of her anxieties fade away. Kagome was safe now, but even as she calmed to sniffles, InuYasha continued running his hand up and down her back, he radiated a peace she hadn’t expected after being apart for an entire year. “How can you be so calm?”

InuYasha’s brow twitched slightly and he raised a fist, it was almost as if Kagome unintentionally spiked his ire. All she could do was tilt her head to the side. “Because Kaede said that being upset wouldn’t help you relax. She didn’t tell me it would make you worry more,” he ground out. If InuYasha could trade a gentle reaction for an angry one within seconds, Kagome knew absolutely that she was in the Feudal Era again.

“It’s been such a hard year without you, InuYasha, why on Earth wouldn’t I want you to feel something? Did you even miss me?”

“The hell are you talking about, Kagome?”

Well, it was good to know that InuYasha could still unintentionally spark her ire, too. “My life has been absolutely miserable without you!” She blurted out, pressing an accusatory finger against his chest. “Do you have any idea how difficult things have been for me? And now you’re just standing here like... like you haven’t even thought about me on—“ Kagome groaned, her head glaringly protesting her argument.

InuYasha reached out, cupping her cheeks in his hands. “Kagome, take it easy,” he advised, and she could hear the note of concern in his voice despite how stern it was. She glared up at him. He offered her a crooked smile that quickly faded. “Wait, did you say it’s been a year since the well stopped working?”

“I mean, I think so...” Her temper fled, leaving her feeling sheepish. Maybe her memories were a little off.

InuYasha placed a finger under her chin, tilting her up to look into a storm of amber. “You were gone for three years.”

InuYasha sounded as if the news might break her and it didn’t but Kagome couldn’t hold back a slight gasp. She stepped back from him. “Three...” three whole years—she had to wait two more years to be reunited with InuYasha and her friends here? It didn’t seem plausible.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” InuYasha asked, picking Kagome up then laying her back down onto the ground. Although he was trying his best to remain calm, she could tell he was upset.

Kagome swallowed the lump in her throat, reaching her hand out to lay against his thigh. “I just finished my first year of high school,” she confessed. “What happened to me?”

InuYasha rested his hand on her arm. “We were fighting an ogre on the outskirts of the village ‘n it threw you against the ground.”

II Chapter 2 II

#hanmajo writes #about InuYasha!#and his wife!#InuYasha #Kagome #InuKag #InuYasha fanfiction

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letsperaltiago · 5 years ago

Text

because you’re the reason i go on

the post-”trying”, angsty, emotional, 6k+ oneshot no one asked for

Jake and Amy confront Camila Santiago about her judgemental ways at a Santiago-family event.

They’d been sitting quietly on their couch one afternoon, one where they both happened to have the day off, for once allowing them to hang around the apartment with no specific or urgent to-dos on their minds. This resulted in Amy keeping herself busy on their shared laptop, taking up a corner of their couch with her legs stretched out and feet resting in her husband’s lap, whilst Jake himself played Mario Party – he’d never say it out loud, because, in the end, it didn’t matter when it was the for the sake of their possible future child, but he’d really missed playing when the ‘way more scheduled’-Amy way had flipped their daily lives upside down.

It’d been a week, just barely, since they’d shared a disappointed glance at the sight of yet another, and for some time the last, pregnancy test in Amy’s hand. They both know a week wasn’t a long time meaning the aching in their hearts was perfectly normal. Just as well, giving them a sense of faith, the fact that they very much had each other to lean on and help manage the pain and frustration they still felt meant everything was, given the circumstances, fine.

Or at least it was until the updating of her inbox notified her of a new, very specific email which immediately caught her full attention.

As soon as the letters came together, quickly deciphered by her brain to form words with meaning, said meaning sent a dagger through her heart completely paralysing her. Even distracted by his video game he, Jake, could tell from the way the typing and clicking of the keyboard had so abruptly stopped that his wife had stopped amidst whatever she was doing.

“What’s up?” His eyes stayed glued to the tv where he was currently almost, and for once finally, beating Wario in the final lap of the game. Although that didn’t last for long since his wife’s obvious lack of reply, compared to Wario catching up to him during the final, crucial seconds, raised significantly greater awareness.

“Ames?” he tried looking this time, quickly snapping his head in her direction as to not miss out on the game, only to be met by the blank, hopeless expression on her face and still body: Something was definitely wrong.

“Hey,” this time he rushed to put down the controller, not caring about whether or not Wario would beat him again and instead using his newly freed hands to caringly rub her knee as he scooted in closer. “Amy, babe, what happened? Are you okay?”

Her empty expression, still staring blankly at the laptop screen, stayed stuck for another few beats before a small, single, torturously slow tear rolled down her cheek. This of course immediately alerted Jake even more.

“Amy,” he desperately tried to snap her out of it with a pleading, although remaining calm, voice whilst squeezing her knee as if she somehow, maybe, had forgotten he was there with her.

That’s when she finally resurfaced, turning her face to look directly at him only to reveal that there were matching tears rolling down her other, before out of sight to him, cheek. Although the last few months had been hard and had taken its toll on them both, especially her, Amy had seemed fine once they’d settled on not thinking about babies for a while: They both slept significantly better, reverted to their enjoyment of what was their usual regularities and, all in all, everything seemed back to the way things were.

So this sudden eruption of sadness from his wife, when just 30 minutes ago they’d joked around talking about what take-out, something they’d missed dearly during their trying-times, they should treat themselves with for dinner that night, worried Jake a lot.

“It’s-” she finally broke her muteness, then once again briefly pausing in silence to catch her breath like she’d been holding it. “Tony and Elena.”

Her husband’s brows furrowed with worry. He couldn’t tell what exactly she meant, which he hated, but it had struck her like lighting from a clear sky so it obviously had to be a great, sorrowful deal to her.

“What happened? Are they okay?”

With Amy’s huge family it was sometimes hard to keep track of every single member, but Jake had gotten pretty familiar with all of the Santiago-brothers and took, especially, great liking to the second oldest Tony.

“Y-yeah, they’re fine but they’re-“ her voice’s transition into whimpering interrupted her as she tried to hold back incoming tears alas quickly failing to do so.

“Jake, I’m such a horrible person for reacting like this,” her whimpering evolved further into small heaving sobs prompting Jake to, gently as to not further upset her, take the laptop away from her to get a look at whatever had triggered such reaction. His eyes wandered across the screen for a brief moment before his frame froze the same exact way her’s had just minutes earlier.

‘SURPRISE! JOIN US IN CELEBRATING ANOTHER FUTURE SANTIAGO’, wide and bold, screamed from the subject line of what was indeed and very clearly an email-invite to Elena and Tony Santiago’s baby reveal + shower.

A heavy sigh along with a defeated drop of Jake’s shoulders complied with the so happy yet so distressing nature of the news.

“Oh, babe…” he’d put the laptop away in order to be able to move freely before moving in to engulf his wife in the tightest hug possible allowing her to cry her sadness out into the crook of his neck, a spot which had grown to be her safe place, where she’d automatically buried her face the moment he pulled her sideways into his lap.

In Jake’s ears, not only as her husband but also being her best friend, any cry, even the smallest sniffle, from Amy Santiago was absolutely heartrending and a perfect world would be one where his wife was never hurt, angered or confused enough to need to utter these kind of sounds. In this perfect world there would be constant peace in her mind, a smile on her face and, goddamn, he wished more than anything else, a baby in her belly.

His hand, which had automatically tightened around her figure, started rubbing soothing circles between her heaving shoulder blade, the other pushing her beautiful raven locks of hair away from her face. There, to the newly exposed forehead, all while saying nothing thus giving her the needed space to cry it out all while wrapping her up in a safe presence of his own, he pressed a tender kiss. Quite a few years spent together with her had led to a lot more of maturing on his part. Suddenly he saw, understood even, a lot of the matters and issues from her perspective, one he’d before called the one of an ‘old cat-lady’. Jake had learned a lot from Amy, which he was especially thankful for during these kind of scenarios where he needed her. He took pride in being needed by Amy Santiago; thus he had to do it right.

This also meant that sometimes it was better to say nothing at all. “Silence is just as powerful as words” was one of the things she’d had taught him, so as long as he got to sit with her, letting her know that he was there for her, Jake could feel calm and confident about not interrupting her crying.

It was not too long after when the sobs, shaking and shock slowly wore off and silence engulfed the two wrapped up figures.

“Hey,” he spoke softly. Silence was the only reply he got but he was okay with that. The necessity of a reply wasn’t there; her attention was enough and he knew he had it. Meanwhile his neck had craned in an attempt to get the best possible look at her face where it was still resting into the soft curve of his neck. The tiniest shuffle of her shoulder as she readjusted in his lap confirmed that she indeed listening.

“You don’t have to do anything you genuinely don’t want to do. You know that right?”

It was all she could give for now, which was okay, Jake thought, when he felt the nodding movement of her head against his neck.

“Okay good,” he paused thinking for a brief second before resolving on leaving a feathery stroke to her forehead with the length of his nose, his lips automatically taking over afterwards in one swift movement.

“We don’t have to go if you’re not genuinely feeling up for it. We can just say we both have work that day.”

Beneath where his hands were continuously drawing lazy circles on her upper back Jake could tell she was thinking – hard. Then suddenly her face was no longer hiding in his soft skin, instead she rose to an upright position although remained put in his lap. With red eyes, a version of his favorite pair of eyes he hated to witness, she looked at him.

“I just...” She sniffed in the process of wiping tears off her face with the back of the hand that wasn’t keeping her stable with a hold on her husband’s firm shoulder. “If I choose not to go then it means I’m letting this deterring situation get the best of me, and I just-“

As if he hadn’t already been aching for his wife and feeling utterly frustrated by the feeling that came along with it being way beyond his control, her voice, once again, started to quake, slowly and torturously breaking Jake’s heart like a disk on repeat. The following words made it out in-between tiny sobs and heaving halts from trying to hold them back.

“I can’t let it control me, Jake. I don’t want to it to define me more than it already has.”

It. Two letters: one word… The one, little word substituting for whatever force was keeping them from becoming pregnant contained so much pain. He cupped her face in his hands trying to fight her tears by wiping them away but alas; every time he had, new ones just dropped right in the exact same spot.

“Shhh,” he whispered pulling her back into his chest with the strong urge, and the only way he could think of to protect her from what, lately, had been the very cruel and unfair world around them. He didn’t say anything else right away once again leaving her space to continue speaking if she wished to, but all that came out of her and into his neck were small whimpers.

“It doesn’t define you, Ames. You’re bigger than this and it doesn’t change who you are. And for every single ‘me’ you say, you have to remember that I’m right here in this with you. Whatever has happened and whatever will happen is something we’re in together.”

Shuffling against his neck followed by the tingling sensation of her warm lips against the skin let him know that what he’d said had struck the right chord.

“Thank you,” she croaked.

“No, thank you for being so incredible. And if you want to go then we will and if you don’t, then that’s alright too and we just won’t. No bigger deal than that, okay?”

He looked down to be met by a rush of relief; a tiny faint smile was once again present on her face.

“Okay.”

***

Thus it resulted in Jake and Amy, together as the unit they were, deciding to disregard what the pain was telling them to do and instead just go. A few days after their talk that afternoon, the emotional knockout upon receiving the email, Amy had looked herself in the mirror one evening and agreed with herself: no, this shouldn’t define her and therefor she wouldn’t let it.

But even then, on the morning of the baby shower, Amy caught herself feeling overwhelmed, emotions stronger than anticipated even though she was still circling around the will to admit. Slow and unconsciously, allowing her no fighting chance to prevent it, a train of pestering thoughts infested her mind. Looking at her reflection in the mirror feeling ready and put together, pretty even, wearing simple makeup and one of her staple floral dresses, she suddenly hated how she wished the skirt of it was draped over a round belly, one with a baby in it, rather than her usual curves.

In the midst of this staring contest from hell with her own reflection there was suddenly the sudden urge to break down all over again; give up and go back to bed like a way more manageable alternative to smiling and pretending to be okay around people who’d so easily accessed what she was dying to have. In the very same instance her jaw locked in an attempt to hold back a whimper, when her eyes blinked obsessively to wipe away incoming tears forming in the sockets, her husband, thankfully, appeared behind her in the reflection she suddenly hated so much.

“Is my favorite incredible, beautiful wife ready to go?” He wrapped his arms around her middle like it was the most right thing in the world instantly making her forget that, just a second, she’d hate that specific area of her body.

Amy could feel her jaw unclench and the tears stand down from their position on the verge to falling the minute the sound and feeling of Jake engulfed her. This was without a doubt what saved her from breaking down right then and there.

“As ready as she’ll ever be,” she sighed with a small smile looking at him in the mirror.

He nodded, understanding.

“Good. And remember: if it becomes too much, or you’re just not feeling it, then let me know. We’ll be out of there before you can say ‘Pierogis, potato pancakes and hot chocolate’.”

This turned out to be an excellent example of exactly why she needed Jake Peralta: a chuckle danced off her lips as it was indeed close to, if not entirely, impossible not to be charmed by his small jokes and overall sweetness. She then turned around hitting him with the kind of smile she knew he was always yearning for like she did for his.

“Thank you, I will,” she placed a hand to his cheek to stroke it in a small act of gratitude. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Ames. So much,” he quickly pecked her lips before sending her a tender smile.

“And I wish I could continue to stand around all day to tell you that over and over again, but I really don’t feel like being on the receiving end of that judgmental look your mom always gives me if we are more than 10 seconds late.”

Once again her point was proven: it was impossible to hold back a smile and chuckle around him.

“That’s fair. Let’s go.”

They untangled only to lock hands on their way to the car. The 30-minute drive to Tony and Elena’s house was comfortable considering where they were headed to and how nervous Amy had felt right before leaving the house.

To her defense, with Jake’s right hand on her thigh rubbing small circles with his thumb, accompanied by their favorite jams and loud, horrible but nonetheless enjoyable singing, Amy actually forgot why she was feeling anxious about the day’s event in the first place. This especially when Jake performed ‘My Heart Will Go On’ in such a cheesy and overdramatic way, right to the point where it was almost too much since he chose to direct every word at her whilst, of course, still focusing on the road ahead. Luckily there were quite a few red lights along the trip for him to safely twist his body and directly serenade her with his Celine Dion-impression which successfully earned him loud affectionate laughter.

The mood was set and they were both ready to take on whatever the previously half-dreaded baby shower would turn out to hit them with: good or bad. Although, when they knocked on the front door Jake felt Amy shuffle nervously. Wanting to put out the fire of anxiety he could tell was sparking within her, he quickly grabbed his wife’s hand to give it a small, affectionate squeeze, telling her he was right there. They’d agreed on this and he’d do anything within his power to take sure: the baby shower would be okay.

And it had been okay.

It had been okay to see Elena glow with her growing, round belly. It had been okay to be surrounded by colorful balloons, cupcakes and presents. It had been okay to congratulate her brother and his wife, genuinely meaning it from the bottom of her heart. It had been okay.

Until it hadn’t been.

All the guests, which included eight Santiago-siblings with respective partners plus the future grandparents and a couple of Tony and Elena’s closest friends, were all spread throughout the living room in the suburban home. It had been a couple of hours of mingling, opening gifts and snacking on color-coordinated goods, and although one of them would occasionally stray off or get pulled aside by a familiar face, Jake and Amy mostly stuck together and admired the buzzing brunch-party from a safe distance. This when they weren’t catching up with Amy’s siblings or giving Tony a helping hand with small tasks so that he could enjoy the festivities alongside his wife.

Everything was going smoothly making Amy consider how she’d completely blown the entire thing out of proportions before coming. In retrospect she could see how it had been silly and a waste of her own energy to be so scared of feeling like the odd one out on a day that was Tony and Elena’s day. No one would actually care about her lack of a growing baby-bump when they were here to celebrate someone else’s.

Or that’s what she’d thought.

“Amy, ” Elena’s mother had called out sending them a warm accommodating smile as she snaked her way through the crowd to where they were currently resting on the couch while enjoying some kind of sweet sparkling wine.

“Hello, Mrs. Cardea,” Amy greeted politely as she got back on her feet to hug the slightly familiar face. Tony and Elena had been together for quite a while, even before getting married 3 years prior, which meant Elena’s mother was no stranger. On the other hand it’d been a while since Amy had last seen her, which meant the introduction and use of last name was more out of politeness and routine than anything else.

“It’s nice to see you again, dear. It’s a luck that I frequent your mother quite a bit so that she can let me know how you’re doing.”

“I’m sorry it’s been so long,” Amy returned the sweet sentiment of the older woman’s remark. Beside her she could feel Jake follow her lead standing up and reaching out to shake the newcomers hand.

“Hi, Mrs. Cardea. I’m Jake Peralta.” He paired the greeting with his best polite smile.

“Oh,” the older woman’s eyes widened. “So you’re the famous boyfriend of the only Santiago-girl? ”

The couple let out a collective chuckle exchanging tiny, secret smiles in reaction to the unintentional mislabeling.

“Husband, actually,” Jake grinned proudly raising his hand to show off the silver-band which, with two years of marriage and an even older love, felt like natural, extended part of his body.

As if the revelation had come out of nowhere, which puzzled Amy since her mother must’ve mentioned their marriage to Mrs. Cardea at some point, if they spoke regularly, like the woman claimed, Mrs. Cardea’s smile transitioned into a lightly confused gape.

“My oh my,” Mrs. Cardea seemed to be at a loss of words but quickly picked herself back up and within seconds the smile, warm and genuine, was back. But even then Amy could tell something was off. “I can’t believe Camila didn’t tell me. Must’ve slipped her mind.”

The wedding of her only daughter slipped her mind? Amy hoped to God Elena’s mom was right, a feeling of anger slowly coming to a simmer inside of her. Although she couldn’t let people around her know, she had the strong urge to storm of to talk to her mom or pull Jake aside to rant, but for now she bit her lip and put on a brave, now very forged smile.

“Yeah…” Amy tried to give the off-roading conversation a nudge back on track which Jake quickly picked up on, prompting him to reassuringly grab her hand. “… I’m sure she just forgot.”

“I’m sure it’s a mouthful with so many kids to keep track of,” Mrs. Cardea cackled obviously not picking up on the iffy mood surrounding the topic.

Then the feared, for a while forgotten, bomb was dropped.

“Speaking of kids, especially now that I know that you’re married: when are you going to give this fine young husband of yours his first child?”

First of all Amy hated how she made it sound like she would be making Jake a favor by falling pregnant. Secondly, if Amy thought she’d already gone through the peak of the pain from what they were going through at the moment, then she was dead wrong. Right then and there, being slapped across the face with those words, Amy felt her heart completely fall apart. More frustrating than not being physically able to make a child was being reminded of it by a, basically, stranger who knew nothing of what they were going through within the four walls of their home.

Beside her, out of the corner of her eye, there was no doubt that Jake had flinched along with her, evidently clenching his jaw in order to suppress a biting reply. If it hadn’t been for the crowd around them she would’ve collapsed in anger and tears, meanwhile he would’ve definitely snapped at the poor Mrs. Cardea.

“We’re just getting settled into married life and we’re in no rush. It’ll happen when it happens.”

To Amy’s relief Jake did his best, as always, to stay calm and advert the situation in favor of them both. He squeezed her hand, firmly believing what he said even though it also happened to be a half, tiny white lie since now was no time nor place to tell a stranger that ‘Well we’ve been trying for the past eight months, hopelessly and with every trick in the book, but nothing seems to work so right now we’re kind of just trying to get through the pain of quite possible not being able to conceive.’

Even though Jake, Amy included, thought he’d adverted the situation nicely apparently Mrs. Cardea saw this from a completely different perspective. The older woman’s before sweet smile faltered to one of a rather skeptical nature, implicitly telling the couple that this was not what she’d expected to hear.

“Well…” the older woman recomposed herself to speak even though all Jake and Amy wished for was to get away from the conversation and the radical road it was currently being forced down. Amy knew her family was one of old traditions, and even though she’d learned to deal with it and, to some extent, respect it, she in no way wished for her and Jake to take part in it. They were their own family.

“Just make sure to not wait around for too long, Amy. I mean, compared to your brothers, it has already taken you quite some time to evem get married: you wouldn’t want to risk waiting for, well, too long, to make a baby.”

Amy thought she’d just barely survived the worst but now, this, was the equivalent of an emotional apocalypse slowly shutting her entire being and will to do, try, speak, anything, down. Her surroundings seemed to darken letting her know it was only a matter of crucial moments before she’d be shut down completely and beyond social criterion. The simultaneous ache in her head, her heart, her entire body actually, was too overwhelming to ignore anymore.

“I’m-“ she barely managed to utter whilst staring into nothing because it was better than to look at anything in this room that reminded her of what she for some ungodly reason couldn’t have. “You’ll have to excuse me.”

With the blunt announcement that she was leaving, not even caring about what Elena’s mom thought of her sudden switch, Amy detangled her hand from Jake’s in order to rush away to wherever she could turn into a decent hiding place. For the next few hours or perhaps forever. Suddenly, like an epiphany, all she could seem to think about was getting out of the house and lock herself inside their car. There, at least, there was no risk getting found since, apparently, no one knew she was married and, even less, had a champagne-colored midsized Sedan. It was bulletproof.

Or, it was, right up until life seemed to have other plans for her, because getting to the car turned out to mean ‘going through the kitchen’ and ‘going through the kitchen’ meant ‘stumbling into her mother’, who then was about to reprimand her for not paying attention to where she was going. the sight of tears streaming down her daughter’s face caused her to halt though.

“What’s wrong, mija?”

Wrong. The word haunted her: she, Amy Santiago, was wrong: her body was wrong, biology was wrong, giving up was wrong, continuing to try was wrong, all in all everything was wrong. It had to be when something she wanted more than anything else in the world seemingly wasn’t meant to be hers. However, her mother, the one person in her life who was, more than anyone else, supposed to make her feel right? She made her feel, if possible, even more faulty.

Seconds prior to the colliding all she had been able to think about was getting the hell out of the house. But now, seeing her mother, triggered something angry, spiteful even, within her, setting free all the words and thoughts her brain, unknowing to Amy herself, had formed.

“What’s wrong, you ask?” Amy heaved with broken, wet eyes shooting daggers. Her brain short-circuited making Amy unsure of exactly what had been said past this point. “You’ve kept my marriage a secret because you’re embarrassed.”

“What are you talking about? Why would I be embarrassed?”

“Because your only daughter, the only chance for you to experience ‘your little girl becoming a mother’, has been married for two years,” she over-articulated the last two words as emphasis. “And she still hasn’t had a child of her own, and to make matters even worse? She’s not even pregnant. That’s, apparently, embarrassing.”

Amy felt a figure rush up behind alas the heat of the moment resulted in her not even caring one bit. Tears were impairing her sight and all she had to get through was another few points – then she could leave.

“Ames, honey,” the figure behind her was Jake gently mumbling into her ear, carefully, as to not startle her before placing his hands on her waist. “We can go if you want to.”

He could tell his mother-in-law looked rather pale, more tight-lipped than usual, but had yet to put two and two together. That was until Amy spoke up again, chest heaving with all the sadness and sobs she was fighting so hard to repress.

“I’m not embarrassed, Amy,” her mother spoke to her own defense, of course paired with the look of pity, a look Amy hated. “I just don’t understand why you and Jake want to wait so long? Why is it that you must do things differently than everyone else just to prove a point?”

Not only did this strike Amy twice as hard as anything else that’d been said that day; this time Jake was not only aching for his wife but also for himself. This was bigger and more personal than Camila Santiago having high expectations for her kids, wanting them to shine and succeed at everything. No, this time it was wholly inequitable discrimination of her daughter’s way of living her life, included Jake and the things she struggled with when no one else was looking.

This was also drawing a line; the very last straw.

Jake broke in, stepped out from behind Amy to instead take a protective stand in front of her. It was no secret that Jake was terrified of his mother-in-law but if there was something which could make him not give that the tiniest care in the world, then it was the second she dismissed Amy they way she just had.

“First of all, with all due respect, Camila, you have no right to deprecate the things Amy, neither the things Amy and I, do and do not chose to do. It’s her life and while you’re her mother, which is just one of many good reasons why you should support her unconditionally, you have no right to talk her down the way you are right now.”

Angry was not a word Jake was very familiar with but by now his regular voice had definitely transitioned into a defensive scowl, eyes shadowed by anger and jaw clenched whenever he wasn’t speaking: he was not about to let another one of Mrs. Santiago’s jab at his wife slip by – especially now that it concerned such a delicate matter.

“All Amy wants is to please you, but you never actually take the time to acknowledge anything she does and at some point, which I strongly believe is now, it has to stop. You can’t reprimand her like she’s a little child living a life as if it was an open, always accessible book to you. You don’t know half the things she does and goes through: you take no interest in hearing about or understanding the bad, the hard, the frustrating… And the incredible things she does? You ignorantly dismiss them. She has no chance of winning with you.”

Jake was almost chuffing from lack of air caused by combination of exuding anger and the fast talking. He too was now getting emotional feeling the weight of the past months pushing down on him. Leading up to today’s events he’d remained extra strong and supportive for Amy but, truth be told, he was hurting just as much as she was.

“As a matter of fact, if you must know, Amy and I have been trying for a baby for quite some time now… And it’s been very,” he paused to swallow and compose himself before continuing, ”hard.”

A lump started to form in his throat, obviously affecting the pitch of his voice quickly prompting Amy to grab his right hand with both of hers from where she was still shielded behind him. Before him, when she finally seemed to understand what Jake was really telling her, he could clearly tell how Camila’s expression changed from cold, probably annoyed by her daughter’s “rowdy husband” meddling, to shocked and actually showing emotions.

“Oh, mija,” she looked past Jake to get a hold of her daughter’s hiding eyes. “I had no idea. You should’ve told me… It doesn’t have to mean that you can’t have a baby. There’s probably just something you’re doing wrong, and I-“

“No,” once again Jake was quick to interrupt her, the word bursting out his mouth out as a snarl, before she could finish the sentence.

“Amy’s been doing everything perfectly right, and even beyond, so you don’t get to tell her otherwise.”

Silence enveloped the entire kitchen whilst the life of the party buzzed in the background.

Camila stood frozen in the very same spot she’d been caught in for the past few minutes. Here, after what felt like a lifetime, Jake made up his mind and decided that there was nothing else to say. Getting the hell out of there to take care of his wife was of higher priority than waste time, hopelessly and with no gain, trying to talk Camila to her senses.

He turned around to look his wife directly in the eyes, searching for some kind of sign that would tell him that what he’d just done was okay – it was Amy’s mother, after all.

And although tears were still washing down her face Amy also couldn’t help but send him a small affirmative nod. If she hadn’t been too busy crying she’d tell him that, once again, him acting by instinct had paid off.

“I want to go home,” she whispered.

He took another good look at her to make sure that she was okay for now, then quickly replied with a whisper telling her “Of course. Let’s go,” before leading her away and out of the house by the hand. Once he’d gotten her settled in the car Jake ran back to grab their coats, in the meantime also coming up with an excuse to Tony and Elena about Amy being sick thus having to leave. Jake was unsure of whether or not either hosts had overheard the fight but nonetheless they both nodded understandingly, thanking Jake and Amy for the gift and for coming.

So yes, the baby shower had been okay until it hadn’t been.

***

In contrast to the ride to the party, the ride back home was very quiet with minimal to no words spoken. Amy knew she could speak up, if she wished to, but then the act of staring out the window, watching the city grow thicker and thicker by the mile, simply seemed more manageable. Once in a while Jake would throw a glance in her direction to make sure she was somewhat okay while also keeping in mind that the urge to get home and hold her didn’t cause him to drive irresponsibly.

Immediately upon arriving back home, the minute the door closed behind them trapping them in their own little cocoon, Amy carelessly, and very unusually, Jake couldn’t help but notice, kicked of her shoe before heading in the direction of their bedroom. Although Jake was fast, managing to grab her wrist before tugging her back to wrap her up in his arms. This, hopefully, would prompt her to react however she needed to.

And indeed, the moment she was tugged into him and her face could hide from the world in the crook beneath his neck, she did. The heaving movement of her shoulders came first, then the muffled sobs.

Jake, knowing that the silence on the way back home was both of them fighting a war within themselves with only a of question of not if but when they’d burst at the seams, could only hold her as tight as physically possible whilst rocking her back and forth as his own eyes started to prick.

During his life time Jake Peralta had undergone many kinds of pain: anything from, compared to this moment, that is, stupid bagatelles like watching the woman he was pining for be with someone else to being wrongfully accused and sent to prison, where he lived a daily life in a constant state a fear. Nonetheless it was still crystal clear that nothing, not by a longshot, had ever been able to tear him to shreds like seeing his wife suffer from something so out of his, or anyone’s, control.

“I wish I could take your pain away,” he mumbled into the top of her head, his voice tearful and heavy from despair.

Another sob, this time smaller, escaped her body before the next sound he could hear was her taking a deep breath.

“I know,” she sniffled as her shoulder rose in fighting another incoming cry in the meantime also allowing her lungs to stock up on just enough fresh air. Then silence. The quietness, the silence after the storm, that came after felt post-apocalyptic, when in reality they were in the eye of the hurricane: in the clear but surrounded by chaos.

But perhaps that was good enough for now.

“…And I yours, Jake. God, I wished.”

“I know,” he smiled, through tears, into her hair before burying his face in it. Nothing felt safer than her – even during her darkest hours. In the end he felt reassured as long as she was there by his side and he by hers.

“But one day at a time,” he sniffled peaking tears away. “Okay?”

He felt her untuck from his neck, her safe spot, in order to look at him properly for the first time since they left Tony’s house. As expected her eyes were bloodshot, exhausted and red, although there was also a tiny twitch, something hinting at a smile, of the corner of her lips that implicitly accepted Jake’s statement.

“Okay,” she nodded.

“I love you, Ames,” he tipped his head down evening out their height difference in order to press his forehead to hears. “And I’m so stupidly in love with you.”

Finally, this was what it took, a full smile broke out on her lips; a smile which Jake Peralta wasted no second reciprocating. It didn’t matter that the affectionate chuckle sliding off her lips was half-teary from the intense crying nor that her cheeks were still very much damp and puffy; Amy Santiago was wholeheartedly chuckling and this Jake Peralta had been dying to witness.

“And I know things aren’t turning out how we had hoped, at least not right now, but…” His fingers calmly, almost unconsciously, slid down to stroke her waist, his forehead still leaning against hers.

“… I’m never going to stop loving or being in love with you, Amy Santiago, so there’s no need to worry. We’ve got time… Time to hurt, time to laugh, time to fall down and then get back up again. It doesn’t feel like it now, which is so very okay… ” he pulled back to look right into her eyes, making sure to emphasize his point, “… But in the end, we’re going to be the ones in control of our lives: Not biology, not your mom, not anyone or anything else. If we want a child then that’s what we’ll have - one way or the other, I promise you.”

Tears were once more forming in her eyes although this time, to his relief, it appeared to be tears of joy rather than sadness. Being sad suddenly seemed so distant, so irrelevant, when she had a husband who loved her that much.

“And, like I said and will continue to say for as long as you need to hear it: we don’t have to think about a final solution now.”

On one hand she wanted to say something, express and return the incredible amount of love he always provided, yet, on the other hand, the need to grab his face and pull him into the deepest kiss possible was stronger. This, by all means, resulted in Amy doing exactly so. Of course Jake responded to the gesture so naturally thus allowing his hands to freely roam her entire body, up, down and around. There was no stopping them. He loved her and she loved him. This she’d whisper, whimper, whine and moan into his ear, neck, lips and chest, multiple times in the course of the day’s final hours as they stumbled across the floor, through the doors of their apartment without a single care about the outside world.

That night, intertwined, showering each other with love and chasing away the remnants of despair, nothing else seemed of great, grave nor grievous importance. Maybe, yes, the hurting wasn’t entirely behind them yet, but even so, something about hurting for love and the life they wanted to build together seemed to make that fact acceptable. Hurting also meant they were fighting, ultimately meaning that they weren’t giving up.

Hurting was hard, but also important for the process, and doing it together, thankfully, did the difference between unbearable and acceptable.

Life was unpredictable, not everything was in their control, but, as long as they were with the right people, they could handle anything. And they were, since the very first day, stuck across from each other as bickering partners at the Nine-Nine, the right people for each other.

#peraltiago #peraltiago fanfiction #Jake and Amy #jake x amy #Brooklyn Nine-Nine #b99 #fanfiction #oneshot #angst #trying #baby peraltiago

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arthurhwalker · 5 years ago

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reMarkable 2 Review

I had some requests for a review of this device, and I am glad to oblige in this case. I've been closely following digital pen stylus tech for about eight years. I'm just old enough that I still need to handwrite a lot of things to tap into my creativity, but greatly dislike clutter in my life.

The reMarkable is for the person that writes enough by hand to fill several notebooks a year. For someone that wants the tactile and somatic component of writing on paper to associate with their process. The new reMarkable 2 does basically what the reMarkable 1 did; faster, better, and with a much improved piece of hardware.

If you've read my previous review from May 2018, you know I basically raved about the first generation reMarkable. I had a few criticisms of the Gen 1, and a lot of that has been addressed with the Gen 2.

Support & User Experience

I've used a reMarkable tablet continuously for almost three years. I've never had a support issue with one. The software is updated regularly, features added, and user experience improved with each iteration.

There is really no comparisons to be made with that kind of uninterrupted usage. No smartphone, tablet, or computer you ever own will be that reliable. A 3-4 year old Thinkpad, running Linux, is about as close as it gets to that level of, switch-on-and-use, every day, without fail feeling.

The reason is that the reMarkable 2 is leveraging the most reliable hardware, user input methods, stylus technology, and operating system basis available. My fear has always been that my reMarkable wouldn't be as reliable as a regular piece of paper, and a good pen. So far, that fear has never been realized with the reMarkable 1, or 2.

Pen Stylus Input

The majority of what one picks up and uses will be Microsoft Pen Protocol (MPP) stylus tech, with Microsoft Surface Products, or Wacom AES (Active Electrostatic) like that found in a lot of Asus, Dell, Lenovo, and so forth. The older Wacom EMR (Electromagnetic Resonance) is used less frequently, and usually only with their own products, or a version thereof with Samsung Phones and Tablets.

Of the three options, Wacom's EMR is still the best.

That's what you'll find on the reMarkable Tablet, and if you get their Marker Plus (it's the black one) it has the magical EMR eraser tip opposite the drawing point. There is no better pen stylus experience, for general use, sketching, handwriting capture, tilt sensitivity, and so forth.

The Marker Plus is $50 more than the regular Marker. It is worth it.

What if you're like me, and you have a drawer full of pen stylus products? Products that include the legendary Excalibur stylus pen that came with the Thinkpad Tablet 10 Gen 1, and worked with the EMR capable Thinkpad Yoga S1 from 2013? The one with the eraser tip, and sweet felt tip point? Will that stylus work?

Yes. Yes, yes it will.

However, the reMarkable Marker Plus just feels better. It's heft (19g) is perfect, eraser tip rounded to feel like the real thing, and tips that degrade gracefully without marking up the screen. Buy. The. Marker. Plus.

The Hardware

The manufacturer says that the reMarkable 2 gets 3 times the battery life of the 1, is 2 times as responsive (relative to rendering digital ink), and is the world's thinnest tablet at 0.19". Mostly, this is all of this seems to be true. Also, as mentioned before all the new Marker Plus has a built in eraser, all the new accessories snap together with magnets, and it charges with USB-c.

The screen is capacitive touch capable now. No more page turning buttons, and you can swipe down from the top to back out of a document or folder. You can turn pages with the swipe of a finger now. It takes a second to get the gestures down, but they're crisp and reliable once you do.

The tablet runs off of a dual core ARM process (a good thing, in my opinion).

My only quibble is that it is supposed to be able to connect to both 2.4GHz and 5.0GHz WiFi, but so far I've only gotten it to connect to 2.4. It might be something with my specific router, and I'm not sure if my experience is typical.

On the lower left hand side of the tablet there are 5 connection points. This suggests that the tablet may have the ability to connect to other accessories in the future. If reMarkable added a Plain Text Editor, and a keyboard cover to the reMarkable, I would be over the moon.

There is no evidence that they will do this, but a guy can dream. Having what's basically an e Ink Typewriter this thin and light would be the ultimate for this writer.

The Software

It is much the same experience as the reMarkable 1 with a few new additions.

You can convert your handwritten notes into text, cursive or block letters, and share by email. There is support for 33 languages.

With a Google Chrome plug-in, you can read web articles and pages on your reMarkable. If you're already battling with eye strain from looking at glowing screens all day, this is a nice feature.

Reading large PDFs and eBooks is still not crisp and snappy, but it is a vastly improved experience when compared to the reMarkable 1. Large graphically intense documents can be navigated without it taxing your patience. What I store on my reMarkable is vastly different now because of how much improved document handling has become.

I find the small sacrifice in speed rendering pages worth it, compared to the eye strain I get reading on other screens.

More pens, features, page templates, and ease of organizing have been added incrementally over time. With regard to the core functioning (Linux Based Codex OS) of the device, the manufacturer has only ever improved and supported the reMarkable.

Aesthetics

The reMarkable 1 was good for what it could do. It wasn't a bad looking product, but compared to the reMarkable 2, it was a rough prototype. Most tablets do not feel as nice in the hand as the reMarkable 2.

Rubber no-slip nubs on the back, rounded edges, satin finished glass and aluminum, make the tablet itself feel like it's from the future. I bought the Polymer Weave Book Folio, a step up from the regular Folio. A close friend got the same device and marker options as I did, but opted for the Premium Leather Folio.

Definitely, get the Book Folio, and if you can scrabble together the extra money, get the premium leather. That's my only regret is that I didn't spring for the best accessory offered. Is the Polymer Weave good? Absolutely, worth the $99. It is rigid, will protect your investment, and it's very classy looking.

My friend who picked up the Leather Folio is a graphic designer, and has greatly informed my sense of aesthetics over the years. She says the Leather Book Folio is well worth the extra. She is, most certainly, correct.

So, yeah, if you're going to get a reMarkable 2 and want a slightly used Polymer Weave Book Folio (mine), I'll let it go for cheap (so I can atone, and get the leather version, ha ha).

Value

The reMarkable 2 doesn't have a web browser, app store, Merge Dragons, audio player, or other third party applications. It won't replace your iPad, or Android Tablet. It will replace all the paper, notebooks, and pens in your life. This is especially true if you have a small scanner (like a Doxie), and leverage reMarkable's Smartphone app and cloud sync feature.

This tablet is for people that like paper, a lot, but don't want to carry it around or keep track of it. It is for people that fill 8-12 Moleskines a year, and mark up hundreds of pages of documents, for themselves, and others. It is for people that tap into their creativity by writing things down, sketching diagrams, and making lists.

The act of holding a pen or pencil against paper is a cognitive trigger, built into their implicit memory, every day, for years, that allows them to do their things.

$399 will buy a decent Samsung or Apple branded tablet, but neither of those is designed to emulate the experience of writing on paper like the reMarkable 2 tablet is. The reMarkable 2 will run you $399, a Marker Plus $99, and a Polymer Weave Folio $99, bringing it all to almost $600.

Unless you lurk reMarkable's website, and wait for a promotion. They did run a promotion for their pre-order, and will likely do something similar within a year of release. It is my recollection that the manufacturer ran at least two promotions for the Remarkable 1, and the savings were significant.

If you don't need one right this minute, check the website every week or so, their Amazon Store edifice, and whatever other options they have for your region.

Competitors

In the last few years, reMarkable has only acquired more competition in the e ink Tablet market. That competition varies depending on where you live in the world. In the US, no one makes a thing that directly competes. I looked at other products, didn't see anything that made me pull out my reMarkable 1 and make a list of pros and cons for comparison.

That isn't to say there isn't a better thing for your use case, but there wasn't for mine.

Final Thoughts

If I didn't drive this point home earlier, I'm going to make it now. The reMarkable 2 will not replace your laptop, mobile OS (iOS/Android) Tablet Device (meant to replace your laptop), or Smartphone. There isn't even a calculator app on the reMarkable 2.

The Remarkable 2 will replace the pens, pencils, highlighters, notebooks, and print outs cluttering up your daily carry bag, desk, and life. It's a digital paper option, not a personal computing option. When used for that purpose, it is exceptional, and well worth the investment.

#reMarkable #reMarkable Tablet 2 #E Ink #eink #linux #digital ink #review

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paradisobound · 5 years ago

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World’s Greatest First Love: The Case of Daniel Howell- Chapter 1

Summary: Dan Howell wanted a clean break from his father’s publishing company. It was why he applied for a different company in London: to stop the ridicule of his coworkers for riding on his ‘daddy’s coat tails’. But he wasn’t expecting to suddenly be going from a literature editor, to a graphic novel editor. And he certainly wasn't expecting to come face first with his first love who broke his heart from when he was a teenager: who just happens to be his new editor-in-chief.

Based on the Anime and Manga “The World’s Greatest First Love: The Case of Ritsu Onodera” aka Sekai-Ichi Hatsukoi

Rating: Mature (For Now)

Word Count: 3.7k (this chapter)

Warnings: None for this chapter

Updates Every Saturday at 1pm EST

Read on Ao3 | Read on Wattpad

A/n: Hi everyone! Welcome to my new chaptered fic which is based on my favorite anime! I got into this anime back in December and it took over my life and I really wanted to share the love for it by creating a Dan and Phil version for it in fic form! I changed it up to make it make sense with Dan and Phil and I hope it works! You don’t need to watch or be familiar with the anime to understand the fic because I’ve provided enough context inside of the fic for that. But if you have any questions, don’t hesitate to ask me and I’ll provide details! Anyway, thanks for reading!

“Welcome to Onyx Publishing Company!”

Dan looked up from his feet long enough to see the perky brunette greening him in the doorway of the building. Her hair is pushed behind her ears that are glittering with pearls and diamonds. Dan found it hard to look around long enough to hear what she was saying.

“We always get very excited when we hear that we have a new editor joining our team!” She continued on. “We are always looking for more help so this will benefit us greatly.”

Dan just nodded his head in an unspoken gesture as she motioned him to follow her to a short corridor with a set of elevators waiting in the wings. “Our office, specifically the Sapphire branch, is located on the 3rd floor.”

“Oh, I wasn’t aware we were put into branches?” Dan says, flickering his eyes between the wall and the elevator door in front of him where he could see the numbers ticking down on.

“The companies owner wanted each division to be its own branch so because we’re in the graphic novel branch of editing, we are known as Sapphires.”

Graphic novel branch? That wasn’t what he was coming to this company for!

“I’m…”

“My name is Vicki,” She says, extending her hand out after the elevator door closes in front of them and she presses the 3 button. “I don’t do any of the editing but I’m the assistant to the editors so if anyone needs any last minute help, that’s me.”

“You said sapphire branch was graphic novels,” Dan says finally just as the elevator begins to rise, “but I was told I was going to be a literature editor.”

Vicki turned slightly and a smile danced on her lips for a moment, “Oh, you must be mistaken,” She says and Dan feels the color drain from his skin, “No one is ever hired at our company into the literature department. You have to make your way up the ladder for that.”

Dan feels like arguing, feels like pulling the plug on this new job. He didn’t want to be an editor for graphic novels. He wanted to be a literature editor, and he thought that was what he had come here to do. He thought that he was hired here to do that but…

The doors to the elevators open and Dan’s mouth drops open at the sight in front of him. There are people running around everything, while others are passed out on their desks, mugs of coffee split across the papers. People literally lay on the floor, papers strewn all around them.

Dan’s never seen something so chaotic before in his life.

“Oh my!” Vicky squeals, stopping in her tracks as Dan runs into the back of her and they stumble forward a few steps.

“What is going on here?” Dan asks, a bit out of breath and bit flabbergasted at everything he sees in front of him. He wasn’t sure where to even begin.

“Oh, they must be in the final processes for their manuscripts before it goes into printing,” She says with a cocked head. “Although I’ve never seen it this bad.”

She hurried him away from the elevator and past the employees to a desk sitting in the back of the room, occupied by stacks and stacks of books and various other papers. “Mr. Lester?” She asks, a head of dark hair rises up, glasses slightly askew and creases indented in his cheek from laying on the desk. “This is your new employee, Daniel.”

Mr. Lester sat up straighter and adjusted his glasses back on his nose and smoothed out the skin of his face as he forced out a smile and shoved a hand out. “Nice to meet you,” He says. “Showed up at a bad time though. We’re finishing up this latest print and are at the end of this cycle. We need to get the finished product to the printer by 5.”

“The printer?” Dan asks and Mr. Lester waves his hand.

“You’ll learn all about the printer later on.”

Dan’s lips curl up a bit. He’s not even sure what’s going on anymore. Everything seems like a mess and he’s starting to very much regret coming to work at this new company.

“Are you able to show him around?” Vicky asks. “I have to go back downstairs.”

Mr. Lester’s eyes close momentarily as he lets out a sigh and Dan stands back. He didn’t want to upset someone on his first day.

“Okay, fine,” Mr. Lester finally says as he stands up from his desk. The books shift around just enough for Dan to see that the name tag on his desk says ‘Philip M. Lester: Editor in Chief’ and he nearly has a heart attack.

This was his editor in chief and he was already being a burden? Even when he didn’t meant to be one? He felt like he could pass out.

Mr. Lester walked around the other side of the desk and looked at Dan, “So, this is the Sapphire branch,” He says, gesturing to all of the desks and cubicles around them. “We mainly edit graphic novels but we also work with authors and the printers to make sure everything is going smoothly. We do this in what we call cycles.”

Dan nods, “I worked a bit in editing at my previous job,” Dan says softly. “I worked in editing literature though.”

Mr. Lester turned his head to look at him and his brows furrowed. “So you know some of this then?”

Dan wants to nod because yeah, he does know it a bit. But the truth was that, he had other reasons why he knew editing but he wasn’t going to admit any of that at his new company. It was why he left his old one.

“A bit but we outsourced our printing so I have no idea what it’s like to have a printer right in the building.”

Mr. Lester motioned him to follow him so Dan did and they walked further into the office space. He pointed at a door on the left and said, “This is the break room although we typically don’t have time to use it.”

Dan swallowed.

Mr. Lester walked further down and they came to another set of elevators, “These are the staff only elevators. You would take them to go to the printer or to meetings. Meetings are always on the 4th floor, printing is on the 5th. If you need to go to another branch, you can read on the buttons which are which. We’re the Sapphire branch as I said but we have three other branches in here too.”

Dan was taking in all of the information, trying his best to keep everything straight as Phil explained each part of the office step by step.

Here is the printer. Here is the door to the hallway. Here is the window that everyone wants to jump out of. Dan’s head was spinning.

By the end of the short tour, Dan was rerouted back to an empty small desk where Mr. Lester pointed down and said, “This will be your workstation. I’ll be back in just a moment with your assignment.”

Dan set down his bag that he had forgotten he was still carrying with his laptop and other supplies and was just about to sit down when he suddenly had a thought. What was he supposed to be doing here?

“Mr. Lester…”

“I don’t go by that.”

Dan turned around and came face to face with Mr. Lester’s, “What?”

“I don’t go by ‘Mr. Lester’.” He said with a slight snarl to his tone. “I go by Phil.”

“Oh-okay,” Dan says, biting his lip. “Um…I was just wondering what my job here is going to be?”

Phil smiled at him turned on his heels, walking away. Dan was left standing there by his empty cubicle, unsure of what he was doing anymore. He watched as Phil walked to his desk and filed through some papers before he pulled out a large folder and came back to Dan.

He set the folder on the desk and motioned to it, “This is the new manuscript that came in three days ago that needs to be edited. Go through it, mark anything you think stands out. Your deadline is in two weeks with printing in four so make sure if anything is unclear, you contact the author.”

Dan’s mouth opened and closed, “Two weeks to edit? That’s all I have?”

Phil’s lips curled into a smile and he nodded, “Good luck, newbie.”

And he walked away.

***

“Hey, newbie. Come over here!”

Dan looks up from his desk, his eyes are going a bit cross eyed as he’s looking over page after page of the manuscript that Phil had given him. He still doesn’t know how he’s going to get any of this done but he’s trying his best.

Phil is sat at his desk, his feet resting on the edge as he balances himself in his chair, a stack of papers resting on his chest as he tips back a little bit further.

“Where did you work before you came here?” Phil tips forward and places the papers back onto his messy desk. “Didn’t you say you came from another publishing company? Well, obviously you did. I wasn’t available to do your interview but I did read a bit of your resume.”

Dan nods his head, “I came from Howell publishing.”

“Howell publishing?” Phil asks, shuffling through his papers just as his phone buzzes loudly on his desk. He stops the conversation in its track to pick it up and read the message he had just gotten.

“Yes,” Dan says, “as I’ve said, I was a literature editor.”

Phil turns his head, “What brought you to graphic novels then?”

“Well, you see…”

A voice over Dan’s shoulder interrupts them and they both turn towards the dark haired male standing behind them, “Phil, did you get the text? Marmon’s manuscripts just came over the fax and she’s here for the meeting with them.”

Phil nodded and took off his glasses to squeeze the bridge of his nose. He pushed them back on and let out a sigh as he pushed his chair back with a loud screech of the feet against the tile of the office floor and he smiled at Dan, “Let’s do a quiz then. Ever heard of sub mats?”

Dan furrowed his brows, “You mean the substitute pages you can add into a graphic novel with an author doesn’t have enough?”

Phil nods his head and starts walking towards the side of the office where the fax machine has a stack of paper waiting for Phil to grab.

“Aren’t sub mats kind of pointless?” Dan asks, following Phil around the office to the elevator as Phil clicks the ‘up’ button. “Because if you need more work from the author, can’t you just ask them to provide more work?”

Phil turned to him and shook his head, “Are you an idiot?” He asked, his voice laced with seriousness. “When you’re on a time constraint and your author isn’t giving you what you need, you need to be able to fill the dead space. Without sub mats, your work will never sell and you and your author are out of a job.”

The elevator dings and he and Phil both get on. Dan’s not even sure if he should be getting on the elevator too. Was he supposed to be following Phil? Does it look bad if he’s following Phil to a meeting with his author?

Shit, was he already fucking this up?

They only go up one floor and they’re stepping off in an empty meeting area with a poised brunette sitting at an empty table, her hair pulled into a messy bun and her clothing a bit wrinkled. Dan knows the stress of editing so he doesn’t question it.

Phil walks over to the table and shakes her hand and she shakes it back and Dan sits down beside them both as Phil shuffles through the manuscript and looks at each page. “Do you happen to have your tools with you?” Phil asks.

The girl nods her head and reaches down in her bag to pull out a pencil and an eraser.

“This part isn’t realistic,” Phil says, pointing to a drawing of a man standing with a female counterpart. Dan peaks over the paper and sees that it looks like the man and woman are about to kiss but something does seem off about the proportions, “People don’t kiss like that.”

The girl’s eyes go wide and she immediately scratches out the drawing and begins to draw a new version of that scene on the back of the manuscript page. She works furiously, redrawing the characters but Phil immediately stops her, “No...that’s not...have you even been kissed before?”

The girl looks up and her eyes are still doe-like and Dan feels kind of bad because isn’t that a personal question? He guesses that it’s a valid one given the nature of that comic but he still feels a bit bad for her.

“Well, with all due respect, Mr. Lester, but you normally have your eyes closed while you kiss so I’m not aware that I would have adequate knowledge of what I look like when I do kiss someone.”

Her answer is sure and strong and Dan gives her props because he knows if someone asked him that, he would want to melt into the floor and never reform.

Phil doesn’t seem pleased with her answer though because he suddenly runs his hand through his hair and then stands up, “You need to see a sample.”

Dan adamantly agrees, because yes, showing her a sample photo is probably a really good idea. And he may not know hardly anything about editing graphic novels but he can agree that seems like a smart move.

Except, Phil is suddenly grabbing his arm and yanking him up and he’s tilting his head to the side. Dan’s heart speeds up in his chest and his hands lift up instinctively to push Phil away and just as Phil’s mouth is closing in on his and their noses are touching, Phil pulls back and turns his head to the young writer, “Did you get that? Draw exactly what you just saw, just change one of us to your female character.”

The girl furiously began to draw and sketch out what she had just seen and Dan was left standing there with a knot in his stomach and his jaw dropped to the floor because what the ever-loving fuck was that? Does this mean that the editing team is also the models for graphic novel comics because he definitely didn’t sign up for that part. Not like he signed up for this at all...he still wants to be a literature editor.

The girl is still finishing up and Phil is still instructing her but Dan needs some air so he quickly leaves the room and hops on the elevator back to the office.

He makes his way into the breakroom and finds a coffee machine and he pours himself a cup. He pours a little bit of sugar into the cup and stirs it with a straw and takes a seat. His stomach is still in a knot and his mind is reeling.

He should really look into quitting this job. He feels like he’s not going to fit in here at all. This isn’t what he wants to do. He wanted to be a literature editor like he was at his other job…

His other job.

Dan didn’t want to leave his other job. He loved being there. Despite his connections to the company, he still did really well and loved what he did. He even got to work with a top author for a while and even though the meetings and the editing took a long time, he still loved every second of it. He just couldn’t take the constant ridicule.

Dan’s dad owned Howell Publishing. His last name was slathered all over the company so of course people knew who he was. But that made people dislike him more. He hated walking into the breakroom to get a snack from the vending machine and hear people talking about him.

I’ve been here for four years and I still get low selling authors. Dan has been here for one month and he’s beating us all.

It’s such bullshit. Dan should be getting the scraps and I should be getting his authors.

Dan shouldn’t be here.

Dan knew that their words shouldn’t get to him, but they did and it hurt. It cut deep into him because that profession was something he wanted nothing more to do but he felt like he couldn’t do it. And he one too many sobbing breakdowns in the office bathrooms to keep up the charade of being there and being happy. He wasn’t happy anymore if no one else was happy with his success.

So he left despite being the heir to the company and he decided to apply to other companies around London and somehow made his way here. But now this job is serving to be no better and he knows he should quit.

“Do you know anything about editing graphic novels?”

Dan picks up his head and sees Phil standing beside him.

“No, not really.”

“Do you have the motivation to do this?” Phil asks. “Because if you have no motivation to edit any of these novels, then there is no need for you to be here.”

The words feel like bullets against Dan’s skin. It’s one thing for him to be thinking about this in his own head but to hear someone else tell him to quit cuts deep into his core. He doesn’t like it.

“I want to try editing them,” Dan says. “I’ll do my best to make sure that I edit the ones I’m assigned to the best of my abilities.”

“But you still want to be a literature editor?” Phil asks. “You’re not being subtle about it.”

Dan shrugs, “I just like being a literature editor.”

Phil pulls the seat out next to Dan on the end of the table and turns it backwards so he can straddle it and rest his arms on the back, “How many people do you genuinely hear of doing the job that they love?” Phil asks, “Seriously, how many people do you hear say that they want to go to work because they’re doing a job they seriously love doing?”

Dan knows that Phil’s right but he still doesn’t like that.

“Do your research, and try your best. You can always ask for help if you need to,” Phil says standing up. “But here is a list of the graphic novels our team has published and I recommend you take a look at the few on this list.”

Phil pulls a folded up list from his pocket.

Dan nods at him and forces out a smile as Phil just nods back and gets up from the chair and walks out of the room.

When Dan finally feels better and like he can actually continue with his work, he leaves the breakroom and goes scrounging around the office for the copies of the books on the list Phil gave him. He finds a bunch of them and piles them on his desk, determined to read every one.

***

Dan walks into work the next day with sore eyes and a fatigued body. He read over 50 graphic novels the night before he left to go home and his eyes hurt and he feels exhausted. He also doesn’t feel like he wants to go into the mess of an office after seeing the state of it the day before.

He gets off from the elevator and rubs at his stomach that is already knotting at the thoughts of it.

He rounds the corner of the office and starts to speak up before he stops in his tracks and his jaw drops open. The office is completely spotless and the other editors are all sitting at their desks looking fine. No one looks like they’re passed out or about to and Dan is completely grateful for that.

The dark haired male turns his chair and faces Dan, “Good morning!”

Dan walks in slowly and sets down his stuff on his desk, “Morning?” Dan shakes his head, “Sorry but this office was a mess yesterday and now it looks spotless?”

The man laughs and smiles, “Oh that’s because we were all trying to get the manuscript in for a major graphic novel and we were running behind on sleep. I hadn’t slept for three days. But that’s all over with now so we have time to clean up.”

“How did you live?” Dan asks, his voice high-pitched with seriousness.

The man shrugged, “Technically didn’t. Probably did die a few times. But I couldn’t afford to die for real because I had to finish the manuscript.”

Dan looked at him incredulously, “You’re being serious?”

The man just laughs, “Did we properly meet at all yesterday?” He puts his hand out, “I’m Mitch.”

Dan shakes his hand, “I’m pretty sure we did but you were passed out, so you probably don’t remember. I’m Dan.”

“Did Phil tell you some of the stuff you should know?”

Dan nods his head but asks Mitch to tell him some tips anyway and as he sits at his desk with a smile on his face, he feels like maybe this won’t be so bad afterall.

#phan #phanfic #phanfiction #alternate universe #angst #starting new #i never know what to tag fics #princesslexi763fics #first love fic

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kateemmerson · 4 years ago

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#LocationFree - How are global nomads coping with their wanderlust lifestyle?

No one has been left unscathed, have we? We have all had to adjust, re-jig, process life, handle loss, and take stock …every single one of us? Same storm, different ship, right?

Amidst all the “stuff” going on globally, I recently listened to my heart and launched my 5th book, titled “10 Lessons for Living #LocationFree.” Originally planning to launch it much earlier, I waited until the time felt right and until I had the right energy to tackle it. I honestly feel that now, more than ever, we need to keep our dreams, ideals and possibilities ALIVE and top of mind.

Even if we are a bit stuck now, our thinking and feeling do NOT have to be stuck.

In the process of writing this book, I wanted to offer readers some varied perspectives and thus set about interviewing 16 awesome folks to get their views on living this lifestyle. When the book was released just 2 weeks ago, I really wanted to check back in and get their updates on living “LocationFree.” We are all between 40 and 60 years old, living our own version of this lifestyle all around the world. Essentially I wanted to see how the year had shaped up for them since our initial interview – to see if they were more hellbent on continuing this vagabond lifestyle, to understand if something fundamental had shifted for them, or if perhaps world events have made them reconsider lifestyle choices related to all things #LocationFree?

#LocationFree is my preferred term, but it is often referred to as Global Nomad, Digital Nomad, Location Independent, Portable Pro, etc. The name is less important than what we live day-to-day.

I wanted to update myself, too. I have honestly had a profoundly ‘interesting’ year. I’m definitely NOT saying it was easy and straightforward, but that I dug deep and found ways to try and accept and lean into what was going on rather than resist it all. The latter option felt futile and counter-productive in every form. I contracted and tested positive for the covid lurgy back in March 2020 after hurriedly exit-ing South Africa. I was out there to launch my 4th book, “Write your Book in 100 Days,” with my business partner. We had multiple book launches and events, live interviews from some major PR rolling out. It was our chance to inspire and reconnect with all the wonderful South African writers in our community. Plus, all my annual medical appointments were booked for what might have been my last regular visit to South Africa.

As I tuned in and reacted to what was unfolding, I knew I needed to get on a plane fast, to the UK. I was due to travel via Dubai to visit a friend stationed there but decided to hotfoot it directly to the UK, just a couple of days before lockdown kicked in. After all, South Africa was officially no longer any form of “base” for me after the break up with my partner, so I didn’t fancy getting “stuck” there.

I knew I wanted to get to my mum in time for the first proposed lockdown so she wouldn’t be on her own. Well, for sanity, company, and a bit of TLC more than needing to “look after” her – she’s a super strong woman! But before being able to get to her, after testing positive for covid (I only ever experienced mild symptoms, thank goodness), I had to isolate myself for a month before it was deemed safe for me to stay with mum in her presidential home. We then ‘enjoyed’ three months of strict lockdown together. Lucky we had too much TV, laughter, wine, great food, daily walks, and I also celebrated my birthday with her. Zoom Style with friends around the world.

One of the hardest business challenges was letting go of our international Writing Retreats that were booked. It often takes folk at least a year to decide, book, and pay for one of our retreats. Writers from all over the world were joining Sarah and me in Greece, Italy, and Spain for a total of four retreats and residencies. We had to face cancellations, field the uncertainty with massive deposits we had paid across to secure hotels, and handle the non-refundable deposit challenge. We initially postponed and shuffled dates later in 2020 in the eternal hope that we could still host them later in the year, and had clients ready to hop on planes… and then finally releasing them all in favour of 2021 dates. We “lost” some clients who couldn’t move to the new dates, and have not yet been able to start filling those spaces for 2021. That was my main income revenue down the sink. I know the entire world understands all the drastic financial challenges of the year and I am not alone in that.

The moment it was “safe” enough to travel, and the world eased open a bit in the UK, I travelled to a wee Scottish island, Iona, for an overdue, personal and significant retreat. I had been wanting to reconnect with Iona to organise a writing retreat, so I was fulfilling two objectives. It is a very sacred isle that offers deep healing and was just what I needed. Mum was happy (and I guess sad) to finally wave goodbye after three intense months together. The year has allowed me to live what I call a “revised version” of living location free – with restrictions and other things factored in, like everyone. I was planning on spending 2020 starting to look for my next Northern bases, so that has obviously been postponed. My heart is being pulled by the idea of setting up some version of flexible homes in both Scotland and the Mediterranean – but that will need to wait until I can travel abroad to explore that option more fully.

I am just not a ONE HOME type of gal. Any future partner I have in life needs to know that a deep love for travel and adventure is wired into my cells. But I am starting to consider a couple of bases to move between, with loads of side- travel too!

So I relished a much quieter work year. I was already planning on taking time off from running regular online writing mentorships as I needed a break from that intense type of work, and then all our summer writing retreats retreated into the distance. So I took most of the year off to be in the GAP. I stayed in quieter retreat –type mode with myself.

I embarked on an intense, personal retreat process on Iona to recalibrate again. I went offline for 3 weeks and 80% offline for a further 5 weeks. The poor wifi signal helped that switching off process. But this was not about covid. To be honest, it was more related to where I am in my life and business cycle. I needed to do a mammoth, triple-angled closing out process. One was the ending of my relationship after five years, and another was leaving South Africa, and the third closing out a few aspects of what used to make up my business. But all that was happening despite covid’s impact. You can read more about that journey here.

On Iona I also fell headlong into a fantastic new heart-based hobby with the actual “making” of books, learning the art and skill of “Book Binding” or BookArt. I am smitten and have a bag of tools, paper, ink, and waxed linen thread to lug around now. If ever you come on a retreat with me, you will be sure to make your own book from now on!

Uhmmm, yes, the irony is that my motto is #LIVELIGHTELIVELARGE, so excess clothes can get turfed out of the suitcase but my new bookmaking tools will have to stay put for this #LocationFree gal.

I am still 100% pursuing my own version of living #LocationFree, just with the added goal of looking for a couple of places to call a “base” in 2021. Love Kate x

***Here is what some OTHER global Nomads say about how this year impacted their gallivanting lifestyle around the world. All of these amazing folk below have contributed to my latest book to offer their take on being #LocationFree.

* My global nomadship is NOT over yet! Dee Before COVID-19 stopped us all in our tracks, I had been already considering my global footprint and thinking about how I could still travel and work as a nomad, but with more and more respect for the environment by reducing my use of fossil fuels.

Since being “stuck” at my daughter’s house since March 1st, I have had more time to contemplate my next move, and I think I will be much more mindful about the “gigs” I say yes to in terms of length. Instead of jumping from plane to plane and delivering multiple workshops or events in one week, I will spaciously alter my availability and only offer one city a week for short jobs. In addition, I’m considering “putting myself out to hire” to communities for 3-6 month, longer-term projects.

As for this crazy year, I have still felt like a “nomad” because most of my international work has continued online, but I’ve been receiving some “snail mail” at my daughter’s address where I’m staying, and I don’t like it. My daughter and friends tease me, saying, “ooh, look, you have mail!” which I vehemently deny! Haha!

I did join a gym in my daughter’s town but, I made sure it was one of the franchise-type ones that proliferate Australia so that when I’m back on the road, I can still make use of the membership.

I still live out of my suitcase. It’s on a shelf, in the cupboard, in my daughter’s spare room, and I have deliberately done very little extra shopping this year and still buy my suitcase-sized “top-ups.” All my purchases have still been with the thought that I will eventually be back on the road.

As of December 2020, bookings for work in early 2021 have started rolling in, and I’m feeling the pullback towards the actual road (not flights) that will most likely be my future for at least the next 12 months until our international borders and flights are safe again. My global nomadship is not over yet!Yours in Community, Dee

Dee Brooks is a mum of four adults and is a passionate community development practitioner and trainer with over 20 years of experience. She has been an Intentional Nomad since 2015 and has travelled and worked in over 20 countries, creating impact through capacity building and knowledge sharing. http://jeder.com.au

*What is COVID offering US in terms of new perspectives? Martin When Covid struck, all my jobs and activities came to quite an abrupt halt. But organically, other things suddenly needed to be done. My life in a nutshell… Go with the flow, take things as they come, and run with it as best you can.

Pre-Covid, I was housesitting, hiking, travel guiding, and occasionally giving sushi workshops. When all that stopped, for my dad, who lives alone, all his support and social engagements/contacts were terminated as well. So I kind of organically transitioned into being his only daily visitor and part-time caregiver. A foundation I occasionally volunteer at was seeing a huge dip in the (mostly 55+ aged) volunteer availability, so my “whenever I can, I’ll let you know” volunteering turned into a fixed few days a week. With the rest of the time, I worked on my campervan conversion, which I was not really getting around to before Covid. So you could say that just as in life, Covid took but replaced other things in its place for me to make a difference… And no less important, it also gave me space to remember what I was passionate about and the time to work on it as well.

Looking forward, my future perspective has not changed much with Covid. I will keep living as a nomad, primarily housesitting going from place to place, alternated with some hiking travel guiding and volunteering here and there, and being a self-supporting van-lifer the rest of the time. What Covid did do, however, is make me realize how positive and stable this self-supportive lifestyle made me, as when mass-hysteria struck, I accepted it as it came and just took it in my stride.

To me, the best way to approach the whole Covid-situation is to look at what it is offering in terms of new perspectives, rethinking priorities and time away from work, commuting, and stress in favor of me-time. It is pretty much nailed on the head by this little quote by Karen Salmansohn:

You gotta look for the good in the bad, the happy in the sad, the gain in your pain, what makes you grateful, not hateful. And if there is no good in the bad, or happy in the sad, then you are put in that spot right there, right then, to help create it for yourself and the people around you… May you be happy and well, Martin Martin Van Den Berg is a full-time professional housesitter, capable with all animals but specialising in big or “difficult” dogs and packs. Willing to travel. [email protected] https://www.facebook.com/martinvdberg73 

* Will we resume nomadic life? Nancy It was sheer coincidence that we moved into a long-term rental the day that Spain went into lockdown! A day later and we would have needed approval from the police to move, to drive elsewhere other than to the supermarket for essential supplies. My unexpected pulmonary embolism in April 2019 had stopped our travels and, due to ongoing medical treatment, necessitated us staying in Oliva for a while. As we liked it here, at the end of that year, totally unrelated to the pandemic, we decided to stay in the area longer and, in January 2020, found a new home near the sea.

Even if we had booked another Air B&B, ready to travel again, it’s unlikely we’d have been able to. As a new tenant hadn’t been secured for the townhouse we’d been renting, we would have had to stay there longer. This would have been so frustrating! I was always excited when moving-on and to have no choice but to stay would have been very hard. Instead, we could look forward to our new home close to the beach!

My online work continued despite the pandemic, and my weekdays didn’t really alter as I sat at the computer in my home-office as usual. The virus situation has definitely changed our nomadic mindset, though, and now I’m not even sure if we’ll resume our journey!

The pandemic in Europe and ever-changing border restrictions make it difficult to travel, so for now, we’ve accepted it’s necessary to stay-put. Instead of looking forward to exploring new places, we appreciate the opportunity and extra time available to visit our own area, which is very varied and beautiful. We’ve also made some friends here and, in a time when we cannot easily see family in the UK, these relationships are all the more important.

As we’ve not had to pack-up the car to move-on in a single journey, we’ve also gradually acquired more possessions and are making our current rental a ‘home.’ The more we become settled, putting down roots, it’s so much harder to consider moving away. Maybe one day we’ll revise our wanderlust, maybe not. Perhaps we’ll take holidays again instead. We’re just not dwelling on that.

Although we’ve always had a flexible attitude, this year has taught-us that absolutely anything unexpected can happen! We’re OK, and we have each other, our health, an income, and a home, so do appreciate this as never before. Kind regards, Nancy Nancy Benn is a versatile virtual assistant with more than ten years’ experience providing efficient support to clients. Working remotely from her home office, Nancy helps entrepreneurs achieve more time and headspace to develop their business by supporting and encouraging their endeavours by providing outstanding, skilled admin and secretarial support. www.directpaservices.co.uk  www.nancybenn.com 

*Coincidence doesn’t exist. I always believed that! Jan What happened to this digital nomad during the Covid pandemic? I guess the same as with all the others: being stuck in one place and not moving anymore. In my case, I’m stuck in Budapest in Hungary. Coincidentally, as a Dutch citizen, I already had a house in Hungary, and I am a resident in this country. Something that, after the fact, turns out to be a good thing. I will explain, and this explanation shows once more, that coincidence doesn’t exist. It was for a reason that I got stuck here.

In February 2019, I left the Netherlands and started my digital nomad existence. South America, Spain, and South Africa. In April 2020, I ended up in a very strict lockdown in South Africa, and after three tough weeks, I was finally able to return to the Netherlands on a repatriation flight. From The Netherlands, I flew immediately to my home in eastern Hungary. It was a safe haven in these bizarre times. It was also far removed from covid, with only 2 cases known out of the 3 000 inhabitants in the village.

After a few weeks of being in Hungary, a letter fell on the mat from the Dutch authorities. They stated that with retroactive effect to February 2019 (!) I was no longer officially living in the Netherlands, that I was not allowed to continue my business there and that I was no longer insured for medical expenses.

Pay attention! With more than one year retroactive effect!

Panic! What’s next? At that time, there was only one option: I would have to live 100% as a resident in Hungary and build a new company structure with two limited companies: one in the Netherlands containing all the customers and one in Hungary where I am an employee. Subsequently, I was accepted into the Hungarian health insurance system (which is cheap, but not the world’s best) and a perfect private health insurance top-up that will enable me to be anywhere in the world and still have good insurance!

All of this turned out to be a golden solution for me as a nomad. The taxes in Hungary are the lowest in Europe, and even after my retirement in some years, the 0% income tax is Europe’s best! I am currently renting an apartment in the heart of downtown Budapest, and at the weekends I visit my house in the countryside to relax. This is truly the ideal “snob-life’ of all the Budapest-inhabitants!

Coincidence doesn’t exist. I never believed in that. But all these puzzle pieces came together so precisely into one nice new picture. So with all that happened to me, I have to admit: coincidences might just exist!

While I am stuck in Hungary for now, I spend ALL my time preparing for the future! Jan

Jan Van Kuijk has been living partly in the Netherlands and partly in Hungary for more than 10 years. The two countries finally became too small for him, and in 2018, after 15 years of preparation, he decided to travel the world as a Digital Nomad. With his work on WordPress and Joomla websites, he is generating sufficient income to live his dream. https://digitalnomadlifestyle.nl https://janvankuijk.nl 

*Cruising (or not) with Covid – Debbie Well, it’s been an interesting couple of months – thank you, 2020!

From being aboard ‘that ship’ which was disallowed docking in Chile, Peru, Ecuador, Panama, Costa Rica, and Mexico, to finally disembarking our guests in San Diego, after 29 days onboard! Our guests got an additional 15 days cruising on the house, and of course, courtesy of corona!

Then, many of us got ill and had to deal with “isolationship,” which in itself added a new dimension to both cruise life, as well and levels of sanity and productivity! Getting the South African crew repatriated back to our own country was another covid challenge, but we finally made it to home soil in June, three months after the break-out onboard our floating home. At this stage, a total of 60 days of “isolationship” had been achieved, and it is no small feat to spending that amount of time on your own in a room that is hard to pace 10 steps without having to stop dead!

Since then, the waiting to return to what we love has taken its toll in various forms, forcing many to find alternative employment sources. I have kept myself busy by doing some ‘self-reflection and tweaking,’ a vital step to recalibrating and accessing what makes it out of the covid crisis with you and what needs to be resolved and rested!

I have decided to study a diploma in HR to be better equipped in my line of work and where I see myself adding relevance; making memories with my family, and building a legacy in my gorgeous granddaughter’s life while watching the world continue to be crazed about vaccines and searching for new normals!

Living life #LocationFree post-covid will have its own set of challenges, but I am hopeful that we will be traveling and impacting more lives in the near future! Remember at this time, to be kind – to those who don’t understand or think the way you do, and it’s OK to be different – after all, that’s what it takes to live #LocationFree. Love Debbie

Debbie Botha courageously leapt at the chance to travel and showcase her training development, coaching, negotiation, and change- management skills within the world of cruising. She now wears officer stripes on her shoulders and a smile on her face as she explores international waters is studying HR, dabbles in Bitcoin, and revels in being a nurturing Nana. linkedin.com/in/debbiebothaglobal Instagram: @debbiebothaofficial 

*Life Has Shifted A Little – Chris and Jillian We had moved places in Morocco a few times. We had decided that we needed our own space after two and a half months in the hostel we were painting in, and we moved into an apartment in Tinghir. Shortly after we moved into our new place, the lockdown was lifted. And even though we were some of the only foreigners around, we weren’t being hassled too much to come and buy things.

We moved out to Rissani after two weeks, which was located at the edge of the Sahara. The roads were now just starting to open up for people to move between towns and cities. After a few weeks there, we read a news headline saying that all foreigners had to leave Morocco by August 10th. We then decided that we wanted to spend some time on the coast, so off we went to Essaouira.

We ended up renting an Airbnb for a really good discounted price inside the medina. There were still very few tourists around, and we were getting hassled by more people to come and buy things. We had booked a flight to leave on the 8th, and a few days before the day, the flight was canceled. We then read more information about needing to leave and found out that it was fake news and didn’t need to go.

We rented the place for two more months, and it was nice to have our own space and work on our own projects. The owner of the Airbnb had upgraded the wifi to accommodate our needs, and we accomplished a lot of much needed online work. The locals’ mood had dropped, and eventually, we had started to see drunk people in the day fist fighting at random times. This was not normal, so we felt that it was time to go.

We booked a direct flight to Turkey, and we travelled to Casablanca to exit the country. There were not many people in the airport, which made the experience one of the easiest times we’ve had travelling. We were told that we would expect to get tested for Covid when we arrived at the airport, this didn’t happen. We were also told that we would expect to get tested when we arrived in Turkey, this didn’t happen either. Turkey was open, and everything was business as usual. In the last two weeks here, the Turkish government has started implementing some restrictions. Restaurants are closed except for takeout, a weeknight curfew of 8:00, and everything except grocery stores are closed over the weekends.

We have no doubt in our minds that this is the only way we can live our lives. Travel has probably changed forever due to Covid, but we will deal with it. We won’t be returning to conventional life, and we find too much happiness in this way of life

Chris de Cap I’ve been an artist my whole life, more than half of which as a tattoo artist. I spent the bulk of my adult life being nomadic, however, mostly in Canada. Now I’ve taken my nomadic habits out into the world. http://www.artisticvoyages.com/ www.instagram.com/artisticvoyages

*Clearing the decks and learning what it means to be resilient I feel like 2020 is the year that we were all forced to stop, take a deep breath, and look at how we are living. The word that kept coming up for me this year was resilience.

Here in Spain, we experienced one of the strictest lockdowns in Europe and in a city like Malaga where we are used to being active and social life quickly started to feel a little surreal. I remember saying to friends that it felt like I was living in a Netflix movie. Deserted streets, no noise or energy.

There is a thriving community of entrepreneurs and freelancers in the city and I organise a co-working meet-up. I remember our last in-person event just before the lockdown happened. I don’t think anyone realised just what was coming! After that, we took the meet-ups online like many events and it proved a great way to stay connected and motivated when we weren’t able to meet up in person. I launched my first retreat in October at an amazing venue called Vega House. This was one of my big goals for 2020 and after nearly a year of putting things on hold, I was determined to make it happen.

I have experienced lots of personal and professional shifts this year and it feels like it has been a bit of a baptism of fire. I know I have learned to be more present in how I live. I have become much more conscious of time and not wasting it this year. This has affected my relationships, friendships and priorities as a whole.

I had planned to do more international travel this year and instead found that there was so much more on my doorstep than I had realised to explore and appreciate. Slowing down and living with restrictions has helped me and I am sure others to find joy in unexpected places. I think I am going into 2021 with a renewed sense of optimism around what is possible for me. I am focusing on staying grounded and appreciating the here and now.

Victoria Jane Watson is a business and media mentor working with female entrepreneurs leading the way in the health and wellness industry. She gets to the heart of what makes her clients unique, showing them how to leverage their story and expertise effectively so they can build a personal brand that supports their business goals. www.victoriajanewatson.com Instagram: @victoriajanewatson

“10 Lessons for Living #LocationFree” is available on all Amazon stores

Search under the title or by using:

Print ISBN: 978-0-620-90868-9

Digital ASIN: B08P7FQ94G

IN SOUTH AFRICA YOU CAN ALSO GRAB A PAPERBACK ON TAKEALOT.COM

https://www.takealot.com/10-lessons-for-living-locationfree/PLID71293449

#LocationFree – How are global nomads coping with their wanderlust lifestyle? was originally published on Kate Emmerson - The Quick Shift Deva

#digital nomad #downsize and travel #global nomad #live light #location free #minimalism #travel for work

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