#i've been in meetings three days this week already and have a work christmas party tomorrow

[thenightisland]

everything that runs on electricity has refused to cooperate this week. the self check out machine shut down as i was scanning things bc its cameras became convinced that i was trying to rob walmart of a two dollar bag of instant mashed potatoes while i was scanning them. IT installed a new computer in my office that i did not want nor ask for and naturally it's horrible and i spent hours messing with it to make it tolerable again. the program i use all day every day for work has had server issues so just keeps crashing or refusing to start and IT's response is a shrug emoji. the new computer does not like my printer and the whole thing had to be reinstalled. one of my apps was glitchy on my phone and nothing worked so i uninstalled and reinstalled it only to discover that i made that account under an email address that no longer exists so i lost my account and had to rebuild from scratch. my own laptop decided to update and i wasn't fast enough on the postpone update button and so spent an entire evening undoing all the AI and bloatware nonsense it installed. the update also fucked up my audio drivers so i've been trying to fucking fix those all night. i am so close to spending the rest of the week just reading by candlelight to avoid anything that runs on electricity right now.

[michelle-is-writing]

Christmas Party, Spencer Reid

I know it's July, but I was in a Christmas kind of mood :)

Word Count: 1.8k~

The month of December is full of many activities; holiday decorating, walks in the chilly air, and my favorite, baking. Thankfully, I've been able to do a lot of that as I've had to babysit for my sister thanks to mandatory overtime at her work. My nephew is always looking for something to keep his hands busy, so mixing batter and cleaning dishes with me is perfect for him. Plus, my boyfriend likes my nephew, and he certainly doesn't mind coming home to sweets on the counter.

Today is different, however. I don't have anything on my agenda today, so I'm free to do whatever I want. I spent the first half of the day cleaning the house and grocery shopping, but as two o'clock rolls around, I just relax and sit back with my favorite show playing in the background. It's a complete change from the last couple of weeks as I've constantly been on my feet, but even though it's relaxing, I can't help but feel the need to get up and do something. However, my phone buzzes beside me before I can think of something to do.

Spencer: I know I told you the Christmas party starts at 6, but do you think you can bring those chocolate cupcakes you make for when you babysit your nephew?

Seeing Spencer's message pop up on my phone makes me smile, my fingers instantly typing back a response.

Of course I can babe How many? One or two dozen

A few seconds pass before he sends back a text.

Spence: You might want to do two. They're going to love your cupcakes.

I can't help but smile even more while replying a quick response, already planning everything out in my head. Spencer takes every chance he gets to make me feel proud about anything I do. I don't think he realizes how much that means to me.

Taking everything I need out of the fridge, I measure everything out and add it into my mixer before combining it all. I try to be precise with everything, not wanting to mess anything up. I have yet to meet his team as we've only just moved in together, so I want to make a good impression - how could I not? I'm not sure how long this all might take but I don't want to be late showing up with them either.

While the cupcakes are in the oven, I make the frosting. Once the cupcakes are out of the oven, I look over at the clock and see it's only a little past three. With the extra time, I take the opportunity to go to our bedroom and get ready. After all, going to Spencer's workplace in my messy around-the-clothes isn't very appropriate.

Walking into mine and Spencer's room, I go through our closet and look for something nice. I could always wear the dress he got me for Thanksgiving or a pair of black slacks with a nice blouse. It's nothing serious, but I don't want to wear jeans and a t-shirt. Plus, I want Spencer to like what I'm wearing as well.

As I ponder through ideas of what I can wear, I come across a dress I got as a Christmas gift from a family member. It's a solid dark blue dress with long sleeves and tortoise-shell-colored buttons adorning one of the hips. I don't know why she thought of me when she saw the dress on a clothes rack in a JCPenny store, but nonetheless, she got it for me and I appreciate it. Maybe I can wear it today… it does look nice and professional, so, I should.

After sliding on a pair of black nylon tights, I pull the dress over my head and down my body, the thick, but stretchy material clinging to my waist and hips. Upon looking in the mirror, I smile and brush my hands over my curves, happy with the look of everything. I then comb my hair out of my face before applying a little makeup to my eyes. Looking at the final product, I let out an excited, yet nervous breath as I think about Spencer's possible reactions to the slightly sexy dress. I definitely think he'll like it.

After frosting the cupcakes and getting them packed for the party, I slip on a pair of matching blue heels before heading to Spencer's building. The ride there fills me with so much anxiety I have to remind myself it's not that scary. Spencer wanted me to go to their party so I could meet his co-workers as they've all been bugging him over when they get to meet me. In the year that we've been together, he's told me a lot about them; I think I'm most excited to meet Penelope as she seems like such a fun person to hang out with.

Once I pull up to the large building, I see Spencer waiting outside for me thanks to me sending him a quick text once I left our apartment. The first thing that catches my eye isn't the Christmas sweater I bought for him, but rather the sparkly red Santa hat on his head. Upon seeing him, I smile and park in the closest parking spot before getting out to greet him. He beats me to it because as soon as I climb out of my seat and stand on top of the tarred lot, his arms are around me.

"The guys were practically berating me on how far away you were," Spencer admits to me, making me laugh as I pull back to look at him. "Especially Garcia, she will not stop," He adds, but his words slowly grow quieter as his eyes trail down to look at my dress. He's never seen it before, but going by his almost entranced look, I should've worn it sooner.

Smiling back at him, I rest my arms around his neck. "You look handsome as ever," I compliment him, looking up to see him grin at my words. "Especially this shiny thing," I gesture up to his hat, bringing a small laugh from his lips.

"Thank Garcia for that," He tells me, "She got one for everyone. She has one for you too, don't worry."

His revelation brings a certain warmth to my chest as he moves to take the box holding all of the cupcakes out of my floorboard. Following after him into his building, we wait for security to buzz us in while Spencer takes the brief moment of silence to lean in close and kiss my cheek.

"I absolutely love that dress on you," he murmurs to me, making me blush beet red. Smiling, I look anywhere but him as the door in front of us opens, letting us go in. Like, I said: any chance he gets to compliment me, he takes it.

Walking through the maze of desks with him, I can't help but still feel a little shy. We walk until we stop at the room where all of Spence's close friends from work are in. Once we enter the room, I see them talking to each other, every single one of them having a Santa hat on their head just as Spencer said.

Staying in the doorway, I watch and observe while Spencer places the cupcakes in the middle of the room's table. As he does this, Penelope and Derek walk over to me with smiles on their faces. "You must be (Y/n)!" Penelope greets me with a firm hug, making me smile.

"Yes, and you must be Penelope," I tell her once she pulls away. Looking over at the tall man beside her, I give him a small nod. "And you must be Derek," I note, remembering the many stories Spencer has told me about him and Garcia with her even calling him "chocolate thunder." The man quickly nods with a smile and holds out his hand, which I shake.

"Reid has told us a lot about you," Penelope tells me with an excited voice making me lightly laugh.

"Good things, hopefully," I joke, feeling a familiar arm wrap around my waist and pull me close. Instantly, I feel myself lose any ounce of nervousness I had thanks to his touch.

"Every single one of them," Derek assures me as I look up at the owner of the arm, brunet hair and honey-colored eyes catching my sight. I smile up at Spencer as he smiles back before looking at his two friends.

"Oh! I got this for you!" Penelope yells before jogging over to a table on the opposite side the room and running back, placing a sparkly (f/c) blur on my head. Giggling at her silliness, I reach up and feel something scratchy, only to find out it's a (f/c) Santa hat. "Spencer said it was your favorite color," she explains, making my heart clench even more as I happily adjust it on my head.

The rest of the day is spent meeting and greeting everyone, each of them very nice and fun to talk to. JJ and Prentiss seemed very interesting and they even gave me their phone numbers so we could plan a girl's night out with Penelope and JJ. Hotch seemed like a strict, yet happy guy who barely smiled, but he was fairly happy to see that Spencer had me by his side. Rossi was cool to talk to as he told me about how Spencer talks nonstop about me, causing me to laugh and Spencer to blush.

Overall, I felt happy meeting the people Spencer spent most of his time with, and in my opinion, if I had to spend a majority of my time with a group of people, I'd want it to be them as well. By the end of it, I felt close to all of them like Spencer does - like a family.

"Thank you for introducing me to them," I tell Spencer as we relax in each other's hold in the back of the room. My arms hang around Spencer's neck like earlier, my body resting against his as his arms lazily rest against my hips. With smiles on our faces, we watch as the guys happily eat the sweets I brought, Spencer's words coming true.

"Of course, love," Spencer tells me, pressing a kiss to my Santa-hat-covered head. "I kept telling you they'd love you - was I wrong?" At his question, I smile at him and rest my head against his chest, staring up at his face as he continues peering back at me. In his arms, I find myself questioning how this man can make me forget any fear or worry I have just by simply holding me, and with that, I couldn't ask for more.

[lacharcutiere]

still [sawamura daichi]

1,6k words

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part eight of i’m gone i’m gone i’m gone miniseries. you can only put these things off for so long.

JST: japanese standard time (GMT +9). EST: eastern standard time (GMT -5). EDT: eastern daylight time (GMT -4).

tings // fluff, a little bit of angst, kinda suggestive at the end ?? // i swear this søng is abøut eating øut my best friend's pussy - cøzybøy // dm, ask or comment to be added to taglist ! minors dni.

☾𓆙𓂻

— JAPAN, SUMMER 2024.

the summer passes like this: you and daichi laughing too loudly in busy restaurants and train cars; having arms around each other in the back of taxis on the way home from clubs; making instant udon at three a.m.; walking up and down the neighborhood a hundred times; laying silently side by side and not needing to say anything. it's a routine, it's familiar—it's home.

a couple weeks before you're set to head back to new york, daichi asks you a question as you lay next to him on a blanket in your driveway, staring up at the stars.

"have you decided what your plans are after college?"

"i'm gonna come back here."

"i thought you wanted to go to grad school? you can do way better in the states, especially with a degree from columbia."

you roll onto your side so you can look at him better. "i know. but i've been away too long already. i miss you."

he gives you a little smile. "but i'm right here."

"right here is pretty fucking far from america."

"hm."

"hm."

that's the end of the conversation.

— 2 AUGUST 2024. 23:09 JST.

everything happens the exact same way it has for the past three years: he takes you to the airport. you try hard not to cry; you say your goodbyes. check-in, security, buy some candy to eat at the gate. board the plane. sixteen hours later, you're in america.

one thing was different, though.

when he said goodbye, his lips touched yours.

you don't stop thinking about it for weeks.

☾𓆙𓂻

— AUGUST TO NOVEMBER 2024.

slightly relieving is the fact that amid thesis writing and too many classes and working an internship under one of your professors (that one's nice, it even earns you enough to get a small apartment a few blocks from campus), there proves to be little time to be spent missing daichi.

you finesse your schedule to fit weekly facetimes on friday evenings (new york time) and shoot random texts back and forth about your day between classes and during meals, and without much space for anything else, it's enough. good things are worth waiting for, anyway.

— DECEMBER 2024.

but then winter sem break rolls around and there's no school so it's back to having too much lonely alone time with your thoughts. you write daichi a christmas card and drop it off at the post office. it's early this year, but oh, well.

☾𓆙𓂻

a week before christmas you receive a call from an unknown number. the phone speaker crackles when you accept the call.

“hello?”

“hey.” the voice on the other end is bright, smiley, accented. it’s tōru.

“tōru? what’s up?”

“i’m outside,” he says, “come down and meet me?”

you’re a little confused, but you decide to humor him. “uh, okay, give me a minute… do i need anything?”

“bring a coat, it’s cold out. i’ll be waiting down here.” the call ends.

a few minutes later you push through the doors of the building to be met with a brisk wind and tōru standing by a payphone, grinning.

“do you have your subway pass?”

you feel inside your pocket for it and nod.

“good,” he says. “come on, we’re in a hurry.”

“where are we going?”

“downtown.”

“ohhkay?”

he laughs. “‘s not anything you won’t like, promise.”

you follow him into the nearest subway entrance, lost in thought as you push through the barrier and step onto the train. it's only when he nudges you and says, "this is our stop," that you realize you've been looking at the ground the whole time.

tōru notices how absent you seem to be and asks, "are you okay?"

"i would be if i knew what was going on," you respond.

"yeah," he says, leading you up the stairs and into the terminal, "yeah, i think you will be."

you're in grand central. tōru asks if he can borrow your phone for a second. when he hands it back to you, he doesn't say anything, just takes you by the arm smiling widely and leads you into the fray of commuters that fill the station.

"tōru!" you groan, "can't you just tell me where we're going?"

"magnolia," he replies simply.

"we came all the way here just for coffee?"

"mhm."

"tōru!" he stops walking and turns back to you, trying and failing miserably to stop grinning for a second. "what the fuck?"

"come on," he says, "you'll like it."

"we've been here before! what's so special about—"

"you'll see."

☾𓆙𓂻

coffee in grand central is surprisingly good. it's also surprisingly expensive. ah, well, it's new york. new york has much more to offer than just overpriced cafés.

such as... this. such as a laughing man that leads a remarkably pissed-off looking girl by the arm, towards this stupidly good, stupidly overpriced café.

the pair are weaving through a stream of people, almost there, and then they're there, and the girl is looking much less agitated now. she looks somewhere between crying and wanting to run in the opposite direction. thank god, she chooses the former.

he loves you. so much.

☾𓆙𓂻

"daichi?" you mean it to be a scream but your voice cracks a little and it comes out airy.

he has the exact same look on his face that tōru's had this whole time. "hi."

"oh my god, what the fuck?"

"you said it was lonely, tōru told me maybe it would be nice for you to have a date for new year's, i had some extra money saved up. so i came."

"you— what?" you look back at tōru. "you planned this? just? last minute?"

"nah," daichi laughs, "no, i meant to come visit you for christmas a while ago. i already had tickets and everything, i was gonna tell you but then i got your card and figured it might be more fun if it were a surprise."

"oh my god." that's all you can think to say.

— CHRISTMAS 2024.

you can't even explain how good it feels to wake up and walk into the living room to find daichi asleep on your couch on christmas morning, how good it feels for it to not just be you. the whole time he's been here, though, you've forced yourself not to think about the fact that he's going back home in a week and a half, forced yourself not to do anything just yet. soon, though. just a few more months.

☾𓆙𓂻

when he wakes up, you're making coffee for the two of you.

"merry christmas," he says, wrapping one arm around your shoulders. he places a card on the counter in front of you. "open it."

its message is simple.

you do as it says.

"i, uh, haven't gotten you anything yet, but—"

"daichi," you laugh, "it's okay. and um, i may have also not been able to get you anything. also because i didn't know you'd be here."

"wait, wait, i'm not finished."

"okay?"

"what do you want to do after you're done this year of school?"

"i already told you," you say, "i'll move back home."

"no, what do you want to do? you want to go to grad school, right? continue studying here?"

"no, i just want to stop waiting." you sigh, a little frustrated. "i don't wanna have to keep putting this off, it's been—"

he cuts you off. "i'll be here."

"huh?"

"i'll be here. or wherever."

"i don't get it?"

you've always loved the way daichi's nose scrunches up when he smiles. "you're the one planning on studying more, not me. not immediately, anyway. i'll go with you."

"daichi."

"what?"

"you're fucking joking."

he laughs; you look so confused right now. "i'm not. promise."

"i don't even—"

"hey."

"hm?"

"think you can handle long-distance for five months?"

"uh—" you inhale sharply. "yeah."

"good," he says, "then we don't have to keep putting this off."

it's been five months since you last let your lips touch his. it still feels just like the first time it happened.

— 31 DECEMBER, 2023. 19:36 EST.

he tries not to let you pay for dinner, but in the end, you slip the waiter your card while daichi's in the bathroom. it's his birthday; it's your treat.

and after dinner, there's that new year's eve party that tōru's been going on about. it feels good, so good, not to be there alone. it feels good to watch the broadcast from downtown and count the seconds to midnight as daichi's arms are wrapped around you from behind. the clock reaches zero; daichi kisses you hard. you're both drunk on champagne.

you watch him smile across the room at tōru, who's got his girl on his arm. the two of them look happy, too. everything is warm.

— DEPARTURE: 3 JANUARY 2025. 08:15 EST.

daichi's asleep next to you when the alarm on his phone goes off. you'll miss not waking up next to him for the next five months, but at least that's all it will be.

he makes faces at you in the mirror as you both brush your teeth; keeps trying to tug your sweater off when you get dressed. you spend these thirty minutes laughing with him until it hurts. the two of you take the subway back to grand central; make out in a corner of the terminal while he waits for his train to jfk international to arrive.

"see you in may."

— 21 JANUARY 2025.

taglist: @sakruisin-thru @softetsurou @oligbia

[indelibleevidence]

Waaa, I need to vent and my housemate is already in bed, so Tumblr, you're up. Tl;dr: first world problems for a disabled person with family issues and no offline social life.

***

I've spent the past week either cancelling fun things, or waiting up during the day (I'm nocturnal) for things that end up not happening, and so I end up losing out on sleep, and now my entire brain feels like soup.

A friend was supposed to be visiting for my birthday, but we decided to be sensible because of the new COVID variant, and not knowing how vaccine resistant it is (my friend has elderly parents, so...)

Then I was supposed to Zoom with that friend and another old friend, and meet other friend's new baby, but Tumblr decided not to show her the message trying to organise it until it was too late, so that ended up not happening (Anna, if you see this, I don't blame you even a tiny bit, these things happen).

Then my sister (who I haven't seen for 5 years, despite her living 1 hour away from me) and brother (2 years, because pandemic and general life business), decide that they want to travel through before Christmas to come and see me, just as Omicron hits, and even though the government hasn't imposed any restrictions on in-country travel yet, I don't feel like it's a good idea to go sit in a pub with a bunch of mouthbreathing strangers who aren't wearing masks because they're eating. And I have neither the energy nor the skill to cook a decent meal for 5 people, because when they were handing out dinner party skills, I was over in the line for a double helping of social conscience because it came with a free chocolate milkshake. So I tell my practically estranged family members to wait until we know a bit more about Omicron, which I'm sure is going to be sooooo helpful for our sibling bonds.

So far, so crappy. But hey, at least I get to have my COVID booster, right? Nope, because the taxi doesn't show up, because the fare was cheap (short distance) so none of the taxi drivers wanted to take it, so I have to just not go, and the NHS has me down as a non-attendance, which puts strain on an already overburdened and underfunded health system. Thanks, taxi driver! It's not like I'm disabled or anything, and taxis are the easiest way to get to places (in theory) without putting extra strain on my body - oh, WAIT... So no COVID booster. But at least that strain on my body thing won't be happening, because I haven't left the house...but wait! Apparently stress while waiting for a no-show taxi, plus getting ready to go out, is just as bad for my body as actually going out. So I get all of the disability flare-up, and none of the booster. Yay.

And then today I was supposed to have my gas and electric meters upgraded to smart meters, only I thought it was just the gas, and if they'd mentioned that they were doing the electric too, I could have told them they couldn't do it, because about 4 years ago a different supplier told me they couldn't, and that I'd have to call the electricity supplier because of some wiring issue that they couldn't fix on their own, because potential asbestos. And then I didn't, because this is a rental property, and I didn't particularly care about getting a smart meter while the one we had worked fine. But I could have TOLD them not to bother. So that led to me waiting up three hours past my usual bedtime, with nothing actually being done, because they need to sort out the electric meter because otherwise a new gas meter won't work.

And this has been the week my body decided it needed a period, and also it's less than two weeks until Christmas, and Christmas is the most depressing holiday of the year, and I haven't done any shopping, and I will be alone over Christmas AGAIN.

Okay, I'm done. Like I said, all first-world problems, but now I'm exhausted and I do not want. *sulk*

[lilmissbeanie]

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Haikyuu Masterlist

Keiji Akaashi x Famous!F!Reader

Song ~ Ass Back Home - Gym Class Heroes 

Genre ~ SFW Fluff

Word Count ~ 1.8k

Posted ~ 11/08/20

Akaashi sighed as he once again read another article about Y/n L/n and Jason Derulo, or some other artist always presuming that they were together. He didn't want to be jealous, but he couldn't help it when he saw his girl with some other guys, wasn't that normal? 

He knew it was going to be hard when he asked her to be his girlfriend. He knew she would be away often she would be travelling for tours and of course, meeting up with other artists to collaborate on songs, even though he knew that her new song would be a collaboration with Jason Derulo. 

He trusted her, the same way that Bokuto would trust his sets back in high school, the way that Bokuto would always know that Akaashi would always get the ball to him to spike. He knew she would never cheat on him, that wasn't who she was. He knew by the excitement in her voice when he answered the phone, "Kei!" The excitable giggles paired with the massive happy grin he saw on video call on the rare occasions that she could. Usually, it was voice messages or texts with the time difference, but some times she would stay up late so they could video chat, he would let the small smile grace his features when she would rub her eyes cutely and yawn. The way he would tell her to go to bed cause she is tired and she would pout innocently saying that she wasn't worn out. She would ask about his day listening as she slowly doses off, he didn't take it as an insult he just knew she was exhausted. He would sit there smiling at her sleeping face, looking like an innocent child, where she still had her phone in a light grip facing her.

"Good night, my Juliette sleep well. I love you."

"I... l-love you too my Romeo" would often be mumbled back, in her half-dazed state. With Akaashi's love of literature, Y/n just slipped it out once called him her Romeo and ever since it stuck.

Running his finger around the rim of his glass he sighed, it had been a few days since he had heard from her, he knew she was busy he had seen on her Twitter and Instagram that they added more tour dates in America as they stadiums had sold out. It had been eight months since the pair were actually in person together. 

"AKAASHI!" He flinched at Bokuto's sudden loudness as said boy appeared next to him. "Why so, mopey? Oh, you're missing Y/n aren't you!" 

"Hey my Romeo, I'm sorry I haven't called or texted you in a while, the tour has gotten so hectic recently we are doing two shows a day, so most of my fans can come, and watch and my manager wants to add even more dates." He smiled, enjoying the sound of her voice even if it is over voicemail, and she sounded exhausted. He had woken up for work and seen that he had missed a call from her at three am. "I know you're going to ask when I am going to be home, but I don't know at the moment, but soon I hope I'm going to tell my manager that I need a break. I hope to be home for Christmas." 

Rolling his eyes, he shrugged and gave a slight nod to Bokuto's question.

Bokuto suddenly felt terrible for Akaashi. He didn't know how he felt. He didn't have a love like Akaashi. His passion is for Volleyball is his true love right now.  He remembered the day he introduced Akaashi and Y/n. She was at an after-party of a game that the Black Jackals won and Bokuto dragged Akaashi along. It was like the couple connected instantly and they soon got together. Bokuto would often turn up at Akaashi's find them sprawled out on the sofa, Y/n with her head in his lap, his fingers running through he hair as he read a book to her. Bokuto had gotten many pictures of them like this. He loved how relaxed Akaashi was around her, a way he hadn't seen with anyone else. 

He knew that she was going to say that. 

"Anyway I miss you my Romeo, I cannot wait to be home and in your arms again. I want to be in our little bubble of love and cuddles, of you reading to me while you play with my hair. I want to be in the studio with you listening to me sing my new songs and telling me which words would work better with the lyrics I have written." He laughed he did often sit in the studio with her after he finishes work, reading over her new lyrics and crossing out the odd word and putting one that worked better with the theme of the song. He loved watching her pick at the strings of her acoustic guitar playing a few cords and seeing if they worked when she ran her fingers over the keys of the piano. He loved that she could play different instruments.

"I love you so much, Romeo. I hope you sleep well. See you as soon as I can. Bye-bye, my sweet Romeo."

About three weeks later he was sat at his desk eating his lunch, watch the recent interview Y/n had with OK! Magazine. 

'So Y/n, when the tour is over what is the first thing you're going to do?' Chloe, the interviewer, asked 

'I think it will be sleep we've had some busy months recently, most days doing two shows to it is hard work.' He laughed along with his beloved. 

'We've been keeping up to date on your social media, who is this Romeo you keep mentioning, we often see and I quote, I miss you my sweet Romeo, or I love you, Romeo.' He would always reply, but his account was private so no one unless they followed him and accepted it. 

'My Romeo is waiting for me at home; I promised him I wouldn't mention him until he is ready for the spotlight as he isn't an actor or musician. But he is my Romeo, and I am very excited to get home and be with him again.'  He was so glad that she didn't spill the beans about their relationship. He already had enough of the spotlight with being friends with most of the Black Jackals team, he already has his pictures in magazines when the team goes out, and he gets dragged along with Kuroo by Bukoto and Hinata. 

'Can you tell us one thing about him?' Chloe pushed for more details about him. He loved how Y/n's nose would scrunch up, and her left eyebrow would shoot up as he tapped her chin in thought. 

'He was a volleyball setter in high school.' She smiled. Akaashi smirked at the fact she gave, there were many setters across the world, and narrowing down to him would be hard. 'And he is my bookworm,'

'A setter and bookworm, those don't often go together!' Chloe laughed, with Y/n soon joining her. 

'I know, and I have Shoyo Hinata and Kotaro Bokuto. But honestly, if it wasn't for him I'm sure some of my songs wouldn't make sense, a lot of my lyrics in my book have his scribbles in changing the odd word here and there, I would often wake up finding him hovering over my lyrics book a mug of coffee in hand proofreading them for me.' 

He couldn't help the chuckle that slipped past his lips at the dig at Bokuto and Hinata's dislike for books.

'He sound's like a gem! But back to the fact you've met the Black Jackals numbers twenty-one and thirteen. What are they like?" 

"I've met them all I know all the Black Jackals, all their school friends too, I met them all after a match against the Cheehle Ekaterinburg, an old friend Morisuke Yaku I knew from my middle school days invited me along, and that was where I met them. Those two boys even though they were bouncing around the court like anything they still had so much energy, I was shocked that anyone could keep up with them, it was like they were children who had just walked out of an all you can eat sweetshop.'

This caused Chloe to giggle. He liked the way Y/n slyly slipped in how they met.

'this Romeo of yours you didn't happen to meet him through your old middle school friend, did you? At this party' Akaashi's eyes widen as the interviewer hit the nail on the head, he was impressed at how Y/n kept her facial expression in check, just the usual smile she used for interviews, 

Saturday 5th of December 2015 was the day that Y/n finally returned home. She didn't tell Akaashi she was on her, she knew from Bokuto that they would be at his favourite restaurant that serves his favourite food, Nanohana no Karashiae, in a private room at the back. She drove her car into the car park of the restaurant, taking a deep breath she pulled on her cap and her dark sunglasses as she got out and walked into the restaurant, telling the waiter that she was here for the Bokuto party he nodded and showed her to the door. 

'Ah, well it was through mutual friends that we met.' He loved how she deflected the question, not letting them on that it was at the party they met.

He leaned his phone against the pen pot on his desk, leaving the video to play, while he got on with his work, the questions had now turned to make-up and what shampoo she was using. 

"Thanks, I'll be fine from here." She knew from the photo that Bokuto had put up on Twitter that Akaashi had his back to the door, purposely done for this exact reason. Pulling off the hat and glasses, she quietly opened the door slipping in and once again quietly shutting it. The room slowly went quiet as eyes suddenly locked on to her figure. Akaashi frowned at his friends, why did everyone stop talking all of a sudden and why Bokuto and Kuroo had whipped out their phones, pointing it at him, till he started to follow their line of sight.

"Happy birthday Romeo." She giggled as he slowly placed her back on the floor, their foreheads resting against one another.

"I'm home, my Romeo." His eyes instantly locked with hers the second he heard her voice, as the smiles so wide crossed their faces as he flew out of his seat wrapping her up in his arms, tightly as if he loosen his grip she would disappear again, he spun her around. He was ecstatic she was home.

Nine months, eleven days, sixteen hours and thirty-eight minutes since the last time he held her in his arms. Since he lasted kissed her. Since he last looked into her beautiful deep e/c eyes.

"You are the best birthday present I could ever ask for." He said as he entwined his fingers into her hair, pulling her into a deep kiss that was long overdue.

©️ All content  belongs to lilmissbeanie, do not copy, edit, repost or translate. 

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[theurbansquared]

Guide To Avoiding A Loser Brokerage

by James Hill | theurbansquared

Brokers can be bastards and some even get better at it while other brokers are legitimate life-changing business Sherpas

A broker is supposed to guide you through a career in real estate much like a coach or pimp - offering protection and how to understand a complicated system better and direct it to revenue  without getting your neck broke while playing the game. I created and ran the most well-reviewed, largest full-service brokerage in the fastest-growing city in America.  This gave me access to nearly ever broker and their broker's pay structure and innovations. I also got the agent's version of my same broker buddies brokerages when they eventually joined my brokerage; hovering anywhere from 20–60 agents. Trending insider chatter has blame going to real estate brokers of decades past (and current) and how they’ve managed their agents - - letting unsupervised  agents with no experience run wild on the streets practicing on the public wearing out Realtor love and making a need for all the Mountain Dew-made Zillow-y options that currently exist.

Brokers are out of touch more than ever with today’s current media load, having to understand and use social media platforms for their advertising (since the private Town & Country affair that real estate once was is forever over and the landscape is a bit more like a half Juggalo, half programmer flea market).

Let’s dive into some situations and tenets that most agents don’t consider when choosing a brokerage.

Sales Volume

This is a bit of negotiating psychology and due diligence. Simply ask how much sales they (the brokerage) did last year and how much they’re currently at. If they don’t know these numbers they’re goons. If they don’t give it, you guessed it - they’re hiding something; their lack of revenue. I’ve hired and fired hundreds of agents and in interviews so few ask this question but it’s one of the most important questions you can ask as an agent and you need the information. An agent that doesn’t ask this has already given a tell that they’re not a top producer since they’re not interested in the production capacity of the team they may join. No bueno. Creep the brokerage as well obvi -- reviews, FB & IG engagement and current running ads, and make sure the company Christmas Party isn’t catered by Chic-fil-a at a Burnet Road dive bar.

Office

40% of your learning and 350% of your work will be done at the office. Those numbers will make sense 90% of the time after a few years in real estate. The rest should be on the streets - your car, properties, driving 75 mph talking and sending out docs, gorging on breath mints. Office, home, tiny homes, motorhomes have all blended into one larger conversation where work/live ethos are all in re-definition.

But, when you do need a more savvy moment in any market when people talk about borrowing or selling something that’s over $100K they don’t want to hear some bullshit too loud pedantic conversation seated right next to them at Starbucks or the local kooky coffee shop. In real estate Murphy’s Law is always in effect. The super important listing sign off that has to go well and they want to hear you pitch again before deciding? There will be someone (at this super ‘caj’ coffee house meeting) there projectile vomiting, or throwing cats, or something else tiresome or bad that takes more calls.

Speech and body language are massive parts of sales so when the entire set is thrown because a barista is running through a whole Sublime album. You want the most inviting cool office you can ever pull off at any given moment in real estate . Was that ever a question? There's a balance  -- you can't afford that year one or three, but it’s called real estate for a reason. Sexy, exciting buildings is what the brochure said when I joined. Also, it’s about style not size.

If you haven’t lost business to coffee house back pressure you really haven’t failed at agency properly.

Social IQ

Social reach is the only conversation now. Many brokerages won’t make it as the lead generating aspects of the industry aren't powered by a private MLS anyone and the publicly-hated ‘Realtor’ designation have both brokers and agents guessing about tomorrow. Calendars, best practices and free shitty tips & templates are the du jour of the day for anyone trying to get an agent's eyes. You can Google and get all the ‘basic’ social media dance steps, but with everyone at the same happy hunting spot, you’re being covered up, which leaves all your new artistic efforts fruitless and also squandering winning time.

Traffic, leads and engagement are all separate areas that have to be fulfilled properly and even this is in flux with historic corporations and current start ups all on the same advertising playing field. Social reach and engagement is about going to the consumer direct and becoming their friend with soft bribes -- free food, gifts, prizes (trips, events tickets) or industry work tools. The great news is, real estate has always been mostly consumer direct - start up a convoy at the grocery store (bar, church, meetup) and you’re in the car that weekend looking for houses with a new client. While you, your brokerage and the world are figuring out their exact social media mix, you need to make sure a brokerage isn’t lost on social media since many won’t be able to stay in business in the next few short years. Your brokerage needs to have a plan and and at best some presence on social media. Plus, they should be running low-cost performative marketing ad campaigns to get a feel for what and if set user groups are responding to ads. Anyone can post on IG but people engage on IG when they become inspired. A brokerage should have some sort of inspiration and relationship tied in with the local allure of their city --  or heading that direction.

Mentoring

Much like a neurotic buyer chasing an interest rate for their home mortgage (and then never buying a house) agents too focused on commission may miss the essential career need for mentoring -- for their clients and career. I had a 5 deal minimum for my new agents before they were ever unsupervised and received more commission. I've had new agents with celeb clients in hand and celeb agents with no clients in hand. No one wants to do business with someone with absolutely has no, experience but they do it because they like you as a friend or fam. Your mentor is the person riding shotgun with you at the beginning of your career. On many levels you want to be this person since they embody the position and role. You're literally and figuratively are borrowing experience from them and they deserve to be paid for it. You always have to strengthen your brand outside of your brokerage but if you don’t have any experience your brand doesn’t have ‘strength’ you simply have a logo and a drag & drop website where you're possibly talking about yourself and love of unicorns or football shit but the big boat deals you dream about in bed aren’t gotten this way. Remember, no unicorn could ever throw a football good without a lot of practice and a good mentor.

Support

Support in a brokerage is really communication and solutions for small problems, and systems for managing bigger ones with people. Most of the annoying things in real estate happen outside of the deal - contracts, calls, emails, docs, signatures, more docs. You typically want a super admin, broker, or agent manager that you can call and they pick up the phone. It’s pretty simple. With a mentor, admin, or broker you’re going to have a n 8:30 PM question or deal that’s going down. You’ll need printer help. Real estate always happens now (this was one of the main mantras in my office). Printing, prequal, weekend support and constant post dinner shenanigans.

Training

Meet Frank Miller, David Mamet, the Sex Pistols, Tony Robbins, Wayne Dyer, Hendrix, Tom Hopkins, The World’s Greatest Detective and Conan The Barbarian. We had a lot of different inspirations for the style and ethos of our urban brokerage. The World’s Greatest Detective is Batman. It was a moniker that became popular in the seventies. We used this example about how important due diligence and proper Fact Finding techniques are for serving and closing deals for clients. (It’s almost essential to be inquisitive in real estate esp about property/development to have success). Training is largely your sales meeting(s). Although I don’t come from a car background I’ve mentored many car guys transferring to real estate (they typically are out of the industry within 2 years and are there only for boom markets). Car guys have meetings every morning 6 days a week and they’re not at 9 or 10 am. They’re already working.

free module: The Burger King Phenomena: Why Agents Do Less Working For Themselves Than If They Were Working At Burger King

Many brokerages have no training/meeting schedule (monthly doesn’t count -- that’s a meet and greet company pump and catch up meeting). If a brokerage doesn’t have training on a schedule then there is no training. You’ll possibly be thrown a 3-ring binder, or given some PDF’s, or links to old bizarre training videos or a soup sandwich of all three and sometimes even a bill for the training. An agent’s training/meetings and their attendance to them are the difference between an agent making it or not when you’re 24 months or less in the role as an agent especially in the fast turbulent waters of the current 2021 market where brokerage and agent purpose and pay are under attack. From my experience, new agents that hide die.

Media

Having a background as a creative director I’m aware with great detail of agency and brokerage media needs, the cost and time they extract, and the corresponding revenue they’re projected to bring back. Brokerages are looking for their purpose now as simply having a brokerage doesn’t bring in leads like it used to. This is fitting, since the digital dumbass brokers that that didn’t understand the importance of ‘the web’ rickshawed our MLS data and sold the agent/broker centric real estate system for their benefit while current agents are left with an empty greasy enough to-go box to curl up with. Brokerages were never media houses or ad agencies but now that consumer level graphic programs and website builders are ubiquitous and any agent after being licensed for 10 days can drag & drop a website up in 4 hours and make it look like a brokerage that’s been around for years. I know I’m going wide on the subject here but stay with me because this is the crux of where the industry and consumer are renegotiating roles.

A brokerage’s value proposition has changed drastically with the telecommute revolution that was only sped and strengthened by Covid. Also, generational knowledge base gaps in technology are more apparent than ever with technology as younger agents can often be more media savvy than their broker. The market is flooded with self appointed companies or gurus that are taking on the role of the classic ad agency (Mad Men) or media production house. Also beware of real estate coaches with little or no real estate experience offering to guide you in social media. Okay media can’t be used in apex situations (such as the luxury listings you’re after) and doesn’t draw apex listings. Beware of tapioca room temperature tips and general lists from companies that can appear informative but are really boilerplate low grade data to get your attention to ultimately upsell you on a paid service.

As an agent or a brokerage, consumer level graphic and website building programs can be a death ticket to your business as your competitors have the same tools and are cranking out the same type of style of messaging you are now. Now agents, principals, admins and in art class creating flyers. This has been done since the nineties as the valleys of dead agent careers is full of 2-day Microsoft Word (or any of their shitty office offerings) seshes to produce nasty flyers and presentations. These programs are fun and making bad flyers absolutely work related - the kind of work you don’t want’ related to your business because it’s adult crayon coloring. Activity does not equal production. Staying busy doing the wrong things doesn’t make money in real estate. Rather than spending agent winning time staying in the wrong lanes for way too long, get with a team or brokerage that are providing the most exceptional visual media you can find in your market. It used to be cool 2 years ago, now it’s the only thing that matters. Visual content.

free module: Better Agent Media, Less Agent Money (media tips and hacks).

Access

This is access to your broker. Brokers with families are typically less available. Your best bet as an agent is looking for a grinder broker who sleeps on the couch at their office. This person doesn’t have kids to build into so they’ll build into your career and you’ll get the most out of these brokers. Beware of cheesedick, apathetic, rich boy, bored brokers not around and more concerned with projects like a shitty vanity wine brand that their wife’s forced them to launch since she’s not living her best life anymore as an agent.

Style

What kind of style is your brokerage? Is there an opportunity to bring more style sophistication to the market -- standout in a smaller market? Or, are you in an ultra stylish market currently and butt hurt because you already have a little story about how you’re going to keep it real and be a Dockers wearing slob for eternity? The thing about style in agency is you always need to look like you can list a million dollar house. Oh, is it really that simple? Yes it is. You complicated it. Clients always care about their housing a little bit more than they care about your real estate career. They don’t have time to figure out why you’re wearing shoe styles from 7 years ago. Don’t make it hard for people to do business with you. If you’re ugly, even better. It can be a massive advantage. Everyone on the planet loves when someone who doesn’t fall into our general current ‘attractive’ spectrum doesn’t give af, looks great and puts themselves together in a stylish way that the viewer can understand (can I get away with Teen Wolf?). A great side benefit from this step in the right direction is it’s a great way to make someone who is conventionally attractive insecure.

You want to be in the same style as the people in your area but the secret is you need to lead that style pack if you can -- you always lead and dress apex. Years ago this was anecdotal but after over 100K hours in real estate a good suite (tailored) saved my ass and literally got me business. I listed the largest house in east Austin because of a suit (and got a front page story on the newspaper real estate section for free because the owner saw me walking into the next door neighbor’s house).

Offices, dress, logo, email signature are all elements of you and your brokerage’s style. Style in and of itself isn’t enough to be a top producer in real estate. I’ve had stylish and even celebrity agents that didn't do zilch, but style often is a fingerprint to something more.

Picking the right elements for your agent style is an art because you have to offer something from yourself that’s unique enough as well as something familiar (a bridge to your uniqueness). I have a background as a musician and also as a merchant sailor. Fortunately those are easy convo starters. You could be a philatelist and have some challenges, but regardless it absolutely will take a year or three to develop your own angle and style towards the market as you learn it and the agent role more.

Things that look attractive and familiar puts client’s psychologies at ease. So, if skinny jeans are in you better get in them (that’s like five years old now). You’re on stage. You don’t wear what the worker people behind the camera wear. If you want to wear boring shit get on the other side of the camera. If you want less leads saddle up to a forgettable brokerage. People have hard days. They want you to put an effort into your real estate agency role. Currently it’s a fried role so you’re dealing with that too. People love to be smiled at and sold and especially from someone who smells good. It doesn't ever get old. Don’t make them beg for your charm. Be a nice charming person with a shirt that fits good, it’s a powerful combo.

Get My Damn Paper

If you’ve never seen a werewolf in daylight mess with an agent’s commission after the deal’s done and funded. Admin? Who is the damn person who does the admin? (accounts payable is the icey pro word if you like). That person that you contact to get your commission check cut? If that person is a weirdo, or there’s an unfriendly or sketchy quality to the office or admin staff, do not go forward (don’t confuse this with new people or industry jitters). Grab some free coffee, leave the smarm and jet to the next brokerage blind date.

Software

CRM is an annoying conversation. Here’s the things with CRM’s - for all the work CRMs curtail, because of their complexity and existence and the work(time) they take to interact with you need to consider how much work you’re putting into operating the CRM software verses how much time it’s saving. Many times brokerages have expensive yearly subscriptions with per agent fees for their CRM which can make the brokerage have a zealot meth thing for the ‘team’ software and promise you can’t have a career without taking a bump too. To understand CRM better before it was a name, Client Relationship Management is what analog Proximity became. Let me explain -  being close to people in Church, bar, school, same building -- all give proximity. This becomes familiarity, then ease, then trust. People do business with people they trust & like. Once people disconnected physically and started using other means more contact attempts have to be made to work for or ‘prove’ worth.

Follow Up is a large component of most CRM’s and there are gobs of money for agents who follow up meticulously. Simply ask the broker what CRM they use and research it. Something to remember - unless you’re extremely busy with your career you don’t need a CRM. You can manage & database your clients & leads ‘by hand’ and strap it to the cloud with G-Suite/Google Sheets.

Brokerage Name

A small but important aside, if a brokerage have named themselves after a precious metal or a gem, or if it says elite in the name then it’s not elite. If it has the words prestige or worldwide or international it may not be any of those either. I know a handful of exceptions to this rule but this is a great dirty primer to use when choosing a brokerage that’s going to propel your career and have shrimp options at the Christmas Party.

[elejah-verse]

Love is A Heartbreak Away/1

Fanfiction

Part 1

Elijah Mikaelson x Elena Gilbert

Kol Mikaelson

AU TVD/TO story

Summary: Elena returns from London, England, to New Orleans after seven years.

As a teenager she had a huge crush on Kol Mikaelson, and dreams of seeing him again. But there is this older, stern, always busy, older brother, she didn’t care about at all. 

a/n: this was inspired by the movie ‘Sabrina’ with Audrey Hepburn and Humphrey Bogart, cuz I love vintage stuff. I also loved the newer 80s remake with Harrison Ford and Ms Ormond.

Game of Love is nearing its end, and I thought I will give a glimpse into the new story. I hope you like it. xoxo

tags

@rissyrapp20 @dendrite-lover @cassienoble2000 @captainshurley @captainshurley @goddessofthunder112 @elejahforever @hides2000

_____

Esther Mikaelson waited for the family driver to open the door of the Bentley for her as she finished talking on the phone. As the man obliged and gave him instructions as to where to take her, she said-

"Is Elena arriving today?"

"Yes, Ma'm"- John Gilbert answered.

"Ah, wonderful"- Esther said-"how long has it been now?"

"Six years"- John answered.

"You must be so very proud of her,"- Esther continued-"what is it that she majored in."

"Industrial design"- John answered-"but she has been already working as a free lance photographer for a year now."

"It will be so nice to see her."- Esther said and as her phone rang she answered it.

"Yes, Elijah. I will be meeting the Claires for lunch today. Fine. I will not be coming to the office today. I will return as someone has to be on top of things here for tomorrow's party."- she said to her son.

Esther, a widow. had two sons, Elijah, 34, and Kol, 25. Of, which one, namely Elijah, was running the vast Mikaelson company, taking over after his late father Mikael, who together with their other brother Klaus got killed in a boating accident. His brother Kol spent most of his his time boat racing and acting more like a spoiled playboy, spending his time partying and avoiding the office as much as he could, even though he had a college degree in business. His mother had hopelessly tried to get him to take some of the load off of Elijah, and get him away from the races. But it was mission impossible.

As John brought her to the restaurant, she told him that he was free for the afternoon and go get Elena from the airport.

"Are you sure?"- John said-"Elena is not due to till four o'clock this afternoon."

"Yes. I will take the taxi back to the Plantation. Thank you, John"- Esther said and walked into the restaurant.

💖

In New York, Elena, who was waiting for her connecting flight to New Orleans, now rang her uncle.

"Hi uncle John- Yeah, the flight from London was great. Oh, can't wait to get back- You will meet me? Ah, thanks. I will see you soon. Bye"

The 22 year- old was excited to finally go back to the place, she had called home since the death of her parents when she was 13 years old. After the funeral, she was sent from Mystic Falls down to New Orleans, to her uncle as he was the only living relative she had left.

The three years that she had spent in New Orleans were happy ones.

Esther's sister Dahlia, who lived in London came to visit her sister after Mikael's tragic accident. The woman, seeing a tremendous talent in Elena, who showed her drawings, suggested she get further schooling in England, that she was willing to finance.

It being a tremendous stepping stone for the girl, her uncle agreed to send her there. And when Elena finished the Grammar school, she stayed on for college, as well.

Although she had made friends, and had her share of boyfriends, she had always dreamt of New Orleans, and the Mikaelson Plantation house. When she talked about it, she had always painted it as this charming place, like something out of a fairy-tale book.

And then, one day, like out of the blue, she just decided, it was time to go and pay the place a visit. Two weeks holidays. Go down the memory lane, see her uncle and soak in the magic of New Orleans.

Now, she smiled excited that she would see her childhood place again. Finishing the conversation, she put her phone down, and went to departure gate.

💖

At the same time, Kol, who returned from practice, received a message from his girlfriend Davina that she will be late returning from her trip in Florida. And so, he went up to his room for a shower. The family's butler catching up with him on the stairs, relayed to the young Mikaelson a message from his mother to stay home till she got back as she wanted to speak to him.

Kol acknowledged it and went unto his room.

In the bathroom, stepping into the shower, he huffed a bit as he knew he would get a lecture about his playboyish life style. Nothing knew, though. He would listen for maybe two minutes, and get into a project, which he would abandon, saying that someone else needed a job more than him.

And so it was with the Mikaelson family.

Two sisters, Esther and Dahlia, who inherited from their father the vast business and fortune. Dahlia, who has always been the rogue one, left to travel when she was young, staying in Europe, married and divorced several times. As she never had children, when she had met Elena and heard of her story, she enclosed her in her heart, treating her always like an adoptive daughter.

Elena found the woman and her artwork fascinating. She was different from all the women she had known before. Elena's world changed immensely when she arrived in London. From a shy girl, she turned into a wordly young woman, sophisticated, but still very compassionate and dear.

Landing a few hours later at Louis Armstrong Airport,  Elena greeted her uncle warmly.

"Look at you"- John said-"all grown up and-"- he didn't have words to express the change in his niece.

"And so very tired, and so hungry"- Elena said joking a bit.

"I see there is not much changed there after all"- John took her cases and put them in the car.

"I know it's been only six years, but it feels like an eternity"- Elena said as they got into the car-"and I've been really bad with keeping in touch."

"It is fine. The extensive letters at Christmas were enough. I am so very glad you did great kid, and that Dahlia - Ms Peterson took good care of you."

"Yeah, she was good. Really good."- Elena said.

"Good. I was worried a bit. I mean, she is - different."- he didn't know what to call the excentric artist-" Not like Mrs Mikaelson."

"I can't believe they are actually sisters"- Elena said.

"Same goes for Elijah and Kol. It's like Kol is Dahlia's son"- John said.

"How is Kol?"- Elena now asked.

John now told her about the younger Mikaelson, whom Elena would timidly greet  when they used to meet in the kitchen back when she lived there, watch him from the distance get in and out with his friends. He was then a High School senior, and, same as now, had a very busy social life.

John had also told her a bit about Elijah. She had never met him, as he went to Mexico taking over the management of their Plantation there, after his father's death.

"So, he returned?"- Elena said.

"Yes. A month after you left."- John said-"I very rarely see him. He is constantly in the office or lives in the town house. He still travels down to Mexico. But, he is a very responsible and kind person"

"You mean - boring"- Elena said.

"I don't know. As I said, I rarely see him. Anyway, tomorrow is a big party. It's Mrs Mikaelson's 60th birthday celebration. I forgot to tell you. And you are invited."

"Oh, thanks."

"She wants to see you later"- John informed Elena.

As they arrived to the Plantation outside New Orleans, Elena stood a moment in front of the beautiful house feeling like she slipped back into the moment she had first arrived. This house was like a palace and she was a girl, very sad and lost, and she wondered about how her life would be living in it.

Another car pulled in and a man got out of it.

Elena turned around to see who it was.

The man greeted John, who got Elena's suitcases out.

"Good evening Mr Mikaelson"- John said.

Elena looked at Elijah, who was looking back at her. 

"This is my niece, Elena."- John introduced the woman.

Elijah, same as Elena now snapped out of the momentary enchantment - she putting her hand out as he did - shaking their hands, the man said-

"Elijah- nice to meet you."

"Elena"- she said just nodding.

Elijah nodded a little, too, and excusing himself went to the house.

Elena stood a second longer looking at him enter the house, before her uncle told her to follow him.

Elena went in as well.

________