#I become a “not nice” person when responding to some reviewer comments on reports

[mindmeld1000]

[imaginesandinserts]

Irreverent Pt. 58 - Golden Age

Title: Irreverent Pt. 58 - Golden Age

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader Rating: M Words: ~5K

Irreverent Series Masterlist

You stare at the closed door to McKinney's office, shifting once again in the seat. You'd been there for what felt like hours, though reasonably speaking it was closer to thirty minutes. Beside you, Aaron sat stoically calm, his shoulders pressed to the chair, back straight. He eyes you when you shift and reaches out, placing a hard on yours that was sat against the armrest. You meet his eyes for a second, knowing he was simply trying to calm the anxiety in your bones. It was no use – your gaze wanders back to the heavy closed oak door once more.

You'd arrived at McKinney's office early that morning, as directed to in the email sent by Gladys. Both Rossi and Aaron had received similar instructions and when you'd arrived, Gladys had waved Rossi into the room, stating that the Director would like to speak to him on his own first, and asked you and Aaron to take a seat.

You knew that McKinney and Rossi went way back. They'd done training together and worked in organized crime for a couple years before going their separate ways. You can only imagine that McKinney wanted Rossi's take on Pierce's take down and to perhaps run his ruling for you by someone whom he trusted and who would be able to comment on you personally. That was your hope, at the very least.

You knew Aaron thought the same as you, because he hadn't seemed put out by being told to wait. He too recognized that McKinney not delivering judgment against you in one fell swoop could only be a good thing. It meant he was thinking it over, getting other opinions. He'd had time to evaluate through the course of events and the idea was that he would see greater value in keeping you – see that everything you'd done had been strategic and purposeful.

Gladys had directed you both towards the coffee in the little waiting area outside the office, which you'd both politely declined. Now she was clattering away against the keyboard and fielding pretty much nonstop phone calls.

You turn your stare from the door, back to Aaron, whose eyes are fixed on you. He prompts you with a slight raise of his eyebrows, his hand still blanketing yours, thumb running back and forth soothingly.

"We should take another vacation," you whisper conspiratorially, speaking as though the idea of you two going on vacation together might scandalize someone listening in.

He bites back a smile but you can see the amusement dance across his eyes. He knows you're trying to distract yourself. Your shoulders are still taut and you've barely glanced away from McKinney's door since the two of you sat down. "Where'd you have in mind?" he asks, leaning down towards you and matching your covert tone. If a distraction was what you needed, then he'd play along.

"Bora Bora is nice this time of year. Hawaii maybe. Somewhere tropical with a childcare center," you joke, easily planting images of you and him on a beach by yourselves into Aaron's head.

"Better yet, an adults only resort," he smirks back, sitting straight once more, his eyes facing straight.

You're the one who has to bite back the smile now. He'd responded with barely a glance at you. Onlookers might've thought he'd commented on the weather. Only you could guess at the thoughts running through his mind right then – waves and sand, you in skimpy bathing suits, the two of you alone without having to worry about waking Jack up...

God it had been forever.

You can feel yourself become heated and have to stop that train of thought short, reminding yourself that you're still seated outside the Director's office, awaiting what is at best a disciplinary hearing and at worst a dismissal notice.

"We'll go," he promises, squeezing your hand gently.

You nod, leaning against his shoulder ever so slightly before straightening back up once more. Aaron had been quiet that morning, which you're chalking up to the solemnity of the occasion. The previous night had been quite a lot and you know that you're both still feeling a bit raw from it all. Better – in many ways. Stronger too. However that didn't mean that you expect everything to be washed away overnight. You imagine there's quite a few more conversations like that in your future. The work needed to help you both feel whole once more.

Already, you feel his eyes on you a lot more than ever before. Trained on you when you leave a room. Searching yours when you enter. Eyes trailing over the length of you. Ensuring that you're alright. Making sure that you're safe. Confirming that you're there.

*------------*

The door to McKinney's office opens and you both watch as Rossi exits. He turns to the both of you, obviously in attempt to speak, but before he can, he's directed by Gladys towards the door taking him outside of McKinney's lobby. Following her instructions, he walks out, nodding at both you and Aaron, his face betraying nothing.

"Agent Hotchner, the Director will see you now."

At Glady's instruction, Aaron stands rebuttoning the bottom button of his jacket, and with a quick, reassuring smile towards you, strides through the doors to McKinney's office, closing the door behind him.

"Agent Hotchner," Director McKinney stands to greet him, motioning towards the chair in front of his desk.

"Director."

Aaron takes a seat, sitting up incredibly straight, shoulders rigidly tense. He knows that McKinney asking to speak to him before he speaks to you has certain implications. Implications which, he fears, don't bode well if McKinney's goal is to prod at you choosing to reach out to him and the team rather than your direct supervisor on the project. If you would go around him once, chances are, you'd do it again.

Try as he might, Aaron hasn't been able to determine what exactly McKinney aims to get from speaking with him first. He hadn't been your superior on the assignment. Your personal relationship with him effectively negated anything Aaron could say in your favor.

"Aaron, I will cut straight to the chase." McKinney speaks authoritatively and plainly, his eyes focused on Aaron, betraying nothing of what he's thinking. Even to an experienced profiler such as himself. "Agent L/N broke numerous rules regarding the chain of command, defied security clearance protocols, and acted alone – entirely against Bureau training and procedure."

Aaron stays silent. McKinney hadn't said anything that wasn't true and they both knew it.

"However," McKinney continues, "I must concede that she drew results and ultimately is the reason why the threat to the Atlantis program was eliminated."

Aaron offers only a short nod in response, choosing to hold everything else close to his chest until required otherwise.

McKinney shuffles, placing his hands on the table and leaning in closer. "If this was one of your agents – and you did not share the personal relationship that you do in this situation – what would you do in my position?"

There it was.

Aaron would like to think that Director McKinney was being sincere in asking him. That asking him wasn't some sort of trick question, aimed towards discrediting you.

With a quiet shift, Aaron meets McKinney's gaze head on, and begins to speak slowly. "Director, I've made the mistake before of not trusting one of my agents. I vowed to never make that mistake again. Agent L/N, she's proven – time and again – that she makes the right decisions, no matter the complicated subject matter or the potential personal nature of the circumstances."

Aaron stops there. Less was more. He wanted to make sure whatever he said to McKinney would be impactful. Display the full breadth of his faith in you.

McKinney has a thoughtful look on his face as he contemplates Aaron's words.

In the silence that follows, Aaron's eye is drawn to the Director's American flag pin on the left jacket collar. He's never seen without it. While Directors in the past have worn the pin for formal events – public speeches, Congressional hearings, White House balls – McKinney is always seen with his. Aaron recalls in the early days, when McKinney had first taken the reins, the pin used to be different. It used to be a pin of the Bureau seal. Sometime after the events of September 11th, it had changed. Replaced by the American flag pin, proudly displayed no matter where he went.

Aaron sees McKinney's shoulders move up and then back down as the man releases a large breath, nodding as he does, seemingly having reached some sort of conclusion. Aaron is at a loss to determine which conclusion that might be.

He doesn't share his thoughts with Aaron.

"I've forwarded the video that Agent Garcia shared, on to the Director of Interpol," McKinney informs him. "They will be conducting an internal investigation. Agent Easter has already been stripped of all privileges and is currently on a suspension until further determinations regarding his negligence on the Atlantis case along with the results of the internal review can be made."

Aaron's glad to hear that Easter wouldn't be getting away entirely scot free. He has a strong feeling that, had things not happened exactly the way that they did, you wouldn't have reported Easter for what he did to you. Aaron – fortunately or unfortunately – knows you well enough to realize that there was a small part of you that considered what Easter had done, to be some sort of favor to you. Making you understand what was at stake. Preparing you for the worst. He doesn't need to hear you admit to it, in order to know that. Anything he said to the contrary would only result in you doubling down and insisting, that without him threatening Jack and Aaron, you might not have realized exactly how grave of a danger your role could pose to them.

You could be quite maddening in what you chose to direct your fury at. Easter lying to you was unforgiveable. Him torturing you – apparently par for the course.

"Thank you." Aaron nods his gratitude to McKinney, knowing that he is also being effectively dismissed as the Director moves to stand.

Standing as well, Aaron meets McKinney's outstretched hand across the table, shaking it quickly, before turning away and exiting the room.

*------------*

The door closes behind you with a heavy thud.

Aaron had nodded you in towards McKinney's office, electing to ignore Gladys's gesture to exit via the lobby and taking your recently vacated seat. He wasn't about to leave. He'd be there, waiting for you.

"Good morning Director." You offer a small smile and nod your greeting to McKinney, taking the seat in front of his desk.

Your shoulders are pulled back straight, you're meeting his unreadable gaze head on. Aaron hadn't been able to provide any insight into McKinney's thoughts before you were ushered in, so there you sat, awaiting the gauntlet.

You're fairly convinced McKinney will fire you. Aaron disagrees but you've had the unshakeable apprehension in your bones, that's grown into a nebula of dread. No matter your brave words to Aaron about saying no to Director Richards' offer and taking a break if you were indeed terminated, the actual thought of being dismissed is terrifying. What on earth would you even do? There were only so many bake sales to host and field trips to chaperone before you went postal.

"How are you doing?" he asks, leaning back in his chair and appraising you.

You feel McKinney's eyes run over you in an inspecting manner, lingering on your face. You know him well enough to recognize this as genuine concern on his behalf. Garcia had mentioned that she'd sent him the video they'd all seen of what Clyde had done to you. You're aware that McKinney would shoulder some of the blame for that on himself.

"Better," you answer cautiously, figuring that was close enough to the truth without being a mere perfunctory response.

He eyes you once more, letting the quiet wash over you both, forcing you to linger in that awkward tension of being examined by him. The seconds go by, marked by the loud click of the seconds hand on the clock mounted to the wall.

Deciding that he'd made you suffer long enough, McKinney leans in again, fingers interlaced on top of the desk carefully, deep set eyes focused on you alone. "So, you have a job offer from Artie?"

Who the hell was Artie?!

At the confused look on your face, he clarifies, "Director Richards – Arthur and I go back. Did you know that?"

You can see the suppressed smirk hidden beneath a veneer of professionalism as McKinney leans back in the chair once more, having left you to silently ponder at the incredulity of anyone referring to Director Richards as Artie and the sheer surprise at McKinney knowing about the job offer. When you'd considered them speaking, you hadn't thought that Richards would mention that. Though, it made sense. Tell your current boss that you have another offer. Make you look bad to McKinney, as though you'd been soliciting an offer from the CIA. Ensure that you'd want to leave for the Agency instead, by souring your relationship with McKinney.

"You call Director Richards…Artie?" It was the only thing you could think of to say, at a loss for much else.

"You think you're the only one he takes to fancy French restaurants?" This time, McKinney's words are accompanied by a real smile, one that you can't help but return.

*------------*

Aaron starts when the door to McKinney's office reopens and you exit. He'd had his gaze locked on the door ever since you disappeared behind it, anxiously awaiting the final decision. Despite his relatively good meeting with the Director, he didn't know what to expect as the outcome.

Your eyes lock with his, your expression entirely unreadable. Silently, you motion towards the exit with your eyes, the message clear. Whatever happened, you two wouldn't be discussing it there.

Aaron quickly stands, nodding towards McKinney's assistant when she looks up at the movement. He's quick to follow you as you make your way down the hallway, deftly moving past anyone in the hallways. He's loathe to ask what happened. The journey from McKinney's office has his heart beating fast, as he reckons with what news could have led to you moving through the hallways at such a pace, him struggling to keep up as you maneuver through a break room full of people, finally arriving at an unused office, into which you slip with him close behind.

You wait for him to enter, before shutting the door while he turns to look towards you. You've turned as well, back pressed against the door when Aaron finally has the chance to assess you properly.

Your eyes dart around the room, not meeting his. Your lips are pressed together.

Aaron feels the pit in his stomach tighten into a lead ball, weighing him down. It would be alright, he reminds himself. He had known you being let go was a possibility. The two of you have planned for this.

He releases a deep breath before he speaks. "What did McKinney say?"

Your tongue peaks out, running over your lips as you tilt your head to meet his eyes finally. Apprehension exuding from you as you nervously fidget with your hands. He sees you force yourself to swallow before you reply.

"He told me that I can hand in my official resignation from the BAU to you."

Aaron closes his eyes. He had thought, after his conversation with McKinney, that the Director had no intention of letting you go. He'd never been quite so off on reading someone.

Opening his eyes, he looks deep into yours. "Alright," he nods, attempting to reassure you as well as himself. "We knew this could happen." Already a thousand different scenarios are playing in his head – telling the team, next steps for you, what you're going to want to do after you grow tired of the break, maybe he needs to take a step back as well…

"We can appeal it, sweetheart," he reminds you. The two of you had discussed that as a possible option as well. He walks towards you, wanting nothing more than to hold you close to him again. "We can appeal – Rossi, Morgan, hell even Strauss would put in a good word for you. McKinney's word isn't final, and – "

Aaron breaks off his mile a minute speech, distracted at the sight of a smile twitching at your lips. Why were you smiling?

"He told me to hand in my letter of resignation to the BAU," you repeat yourself as he falters, trying to understand what you're saying. He asked you to give him the letter of resignation from the BAU…

"I'm getting my own team, Aaron," you whisper, as if you could scarcely believe it yourself.

You were getting your own team. You were getting…your own team.

"You're getting – " His mouth can't seem to quite get the words out as he watches your face split into a grin that his is slow to mirror.

Of all the possibilities that you'd considered, this had hardly been one of them.

"I'm getting my own team," you repeat, eyes focused fully on him. You have the largest smile he's ever seen on your face.  He can  feel that pit replaced by this bouncy feeling in his chest as he looks at your face –the bubble of the moment broken by the laughter and squeal that follows as he sweeps you into his arms.

This was good.

You were happy.

*------------*

"I think this is the last box," Aaron says, striding into your office, eyeing you cautiously as you're balanced atop your chair, trying to hang up some of the frames with your certificates on the wall.

You mutter a quick thank you, concentrating on hammering the nail in without hurting yourself by falling off of the wheeled chair. Aaron moves to start putting the books he'd brought up into the bookshelves, hovering close to you in case you did end up slipping.

It had been a week since McKinney had offered you your own team as a counter to Richards' offer from the CIA. Turns out, as long as you get results, the government tends to look the other way when you break any number of clearance regulations. Your conversation with McKinney in his office that day had been entirely centered around what he could do to ensure that you stay with the Bureau.

Intelligence and Threat Assessment, or the ITA, was a group within the Bureau that examined any number of domestic and international threats, analyzed changing political spheres, and partnered with the Justice Department, Congress, and external organizations to spearhead the American democratic manifesto. In short, that was the group that determined who was and wasn't an enemy.

McKinney had offered you your own team within that umbrella to tackle special cases that rose to the level of further assessment by or direct involvement of the Bureau. The sight of your name, followed by the words Unit Chief would never get old.  

You'd had a busy week, settling back into regular life, catching up with everyone, and ensuring that you were spending time with Jack and Aaron once more. In that time, you'd also put out the word that you were building a new team and connected with the Bureau Human Resources department. Interviews were being set up. Thankfully you had one team member picked out – from your office, you can see the bullpen where your team will sit, Anderson's desk the only one occupied so far.

"So Strauss is retiring," Aaron comments idly, opening yet another box of items for you to decorate your office with.

You hum, encouraging him to continue, as you carefully get off the chair and grab one of the boxes, setting it on your desk. You'd long shed your blazer and the heels had come off ten minutes ago when Aaron had left to grab the last of the boxes. It was late anyways and you two were the last ones left, as you'd insisted on wanting to be all moved in so you could get a head start the following Monday. As soon as the two of you were done moving you into your new office, you couldn't wait to get home and sink into the tub.

"Rossi thinks it'll happen by the end of the month," he continues, handing you the box cutter you'd been searching for.

"Well, your only real competition could be external," you remark, handing him back the box cutter. You know that Aaron wouldn't have commented on Strauss's retirement if he wasn't considering the Section Chief position. With your new role keeping you closer to home a majority of the time, it would make your home life a lot more stable.

He makes a disbelieving sort of noise at your comment that has you smiling and rolling your eyes.

"Oh hush," you chide him, continuing to move things off of the box and into the shelf. "Now, if we have to consider the hiring committee for the position, then it'll be Wilson and Shaw – both of whom already like you – "

Aaron smiles as you start to lay out all the details for a role he's only mentioned in passing, but he knows that you will take entirely seriously. It's what you did. You planned and you executed and you achieved at a rate that was entirely remarkable.

" – Adams is a total pushover, and Rossi can probably help you out there –"

He smiles, nodding along to your strategizing, knowing you'd have Dave over for dinner soon enough and run Aaron's odds for getting the position by him and ensure that Dave would throw his weight around as needed.

"Davidson is the only one on the committee that'll pose any real issue, I suppose. I'm guessing you two haven't made nice yet after the Atlanta case?" You quirk a brow in his direction, asking a question that you already know the answer to. Really, it's your way of making sure he feels like he's part of the process, despite you being full systems ahead from the get go.

Aaron's forehead crinkles as he shakes his head.

"Yeah, I figured. Well, it's nothing to worry about. I heard from Lisa from research that he has a new girlfriend –  one that drives his ex-wife entirely insane. Garcia can do some additional digging and get some more dirt."

He makes a face at you, which you elect to ignore, continuing on with your plan for targeted subterfuge.

"We can have them both over for dinner. I just got that new shipment from the Napa winery and we can ask Eric to cook for us again. He can make that dessert, and based on what Garcia manages to find, Davidson shouldn't be terribly difficult to persuade. After all, how could anyone not love you." You throw him a coquettish smile and wink, your arms laden with books that you'd lifted out of the box.

Aaron can feel himself grow warm – you tend to have that effect on him with only the smallest of gestures. The ever faithful butterflies, his constant companions in the early days of the two of you entering into this relationship, have infiltrated his stomach with a vengeance.

"Once you're Section Chief, we can figure out Department Chief next. Carlton won't be around forever," you forge ahead, intent now on your plan to launch his career to the next phase and the next after that. Pretty soon you'd be planning world domination with him by your side. You'd manage to convince him that it was alright because he'd be the one in charge and he makes good decisions so why wouldn't the entire world simply bow to his will. No matter how ridiculous the notion or how bizarre the proposition, your faith in him was unyielding.

Aaron reaches into his pocket, feeling the sharp edges of the box there. It's been on hand this entire week since your return, just waiting for him to find the right time. His heartrate picks up, his hand grasping the box tight.  

Your back is still turned to him as you continue to arrange the books on your shelf in order of subject and size, going up on the tip of your toes to reach the top shelf as your voice carries on. Something regarding convincing Carlton that he would be well suited for a jump to the West Coast offices, leaving the pathway wide open for Aaron's surge to the top.

"Do you remember," he interrupts, watching you carefully, "a while back, you said something to me. Something along the lines of, Director Hotchner has a nice ring to it?" He does his best to keep his voice casual, regulate his breath as he speaks.

You pause, the memory of that afternoon flitting into your mind. So early in your relationship, back when you'd thought that maybe, that would be something appealing to a man like Aaron – ambitious and righteous, wanting to protect and serve at the highest of levels. That had been before  – before you'd known, that for him, the BAU was the chance to put away monsters. It was a personal mandate that he couldn't disconnect himself from. Contending with the bureaucracy and politics that came with truly running the entire Bureau was not something that he found at all appealing. Despite all of your planning and machinations, you knew already that the best you could hope for with him would be Section Chief. He'd never leave the team further than that, no matter the number of steak dinners you served up.

"Yeah, what about it?" you ask, a bemused smile playing at your lips, wondering why he'd ask you that. He'd shot it down then, and you knew for a fact that it wasn't something he was about to begin entertaining now, despite the Section Chief role being a shift away from the BAU directly.  

"I can't help but agree with you."

His voice was closer than it had been before, you can feel him right behind you. There's a prickling at the back of your neck, your brows furrowing in confusion as you attempt to decipher the meaning behind his cryptic words.

You turn, eyes widening at the sight in front of you.

Bent down on one knee, with the most beautiful ring in his hand. The gold in his eyes warm and sparkling for you. A hopeful smile on his face as he watches yours.

You could scarcely believe it as you struggle to meet his eyes, trying to string together something that sounded vaguely intelligible, while your lungs struggled to pull in enough air to keep you standing.

Your mouth feels dry and you have to force yourself to take a deep breath, licking your lips as you do. You push away the first question that comes to your mind – Are you sure? Of course he was. There was no doubting it. No doubting him.

When your eyes finally do meet his, your breath hitches, overwhelmed by the surrounding quiet, only the sound of your breath and your heart and the wondrous, exuberant buzzing of the sparks surrounding you in anticipation of the inevitable.

"You really think I'm going to be Director one day?" Your question is accompanied by an incredulous sort of laugh, the kind that causes his heart to skip a beat at the mere sound.

"I really do, sweetheart." His words carried with them a promise – he was pledging himself to you and anything you set out to achieve.

You feel yourself bound towards a feeling you haven't felt much as of late. Elation – that euphoric ecstasy that courses through your veins and causes your chest to beat wildly. You can do nothing but smile big and nod hard, for once, words completely failing you.

Aaron needs no further encouragement besides the sparkling note of your laugh, the effervescent joy of your nod as you reach for him and he rises. He's quick to slip the ring on your finger before his mouth meets yours, hands winding around his neck and pulling him as close as possible.

Hearts beating jubilantly in sync at the feel of his lips against yours and his arms around you, yours around him, and that persistent and everlasting feeling of belonging to one another in every manner possible.

When the two of you finally break apart, breathless, matching grins on both your faces, you can't help but ask. "How long has Jack known?"

He smiles, his eyes twinkling. "Since Paris."

You let out a breathless, short laugh. You can scarcely believe he'd been able to keep it from you that long. Though, looking back, a number of instances with Jack made a lot more sense now. The faint memory a shopping trip with him, sometime after Paris, when Jack had been quite taken with the window display of a wedding store.

"We might have to do a reenactment for him," Aaron jokes, keeping you close to him. He weaves his fingers through yours, admiring how the ring sits perfectly on your hand, sparkling just right in the light.

You laugh, tightening your hand in his. "Let's go home then."

Everything else could wait.

[mommymooze]

Coffee is Delicious

Hubert x reader

Mentions of fighting/battles/death  Coffee beans are mutilated 

Your heart is pounding strong and steady as you continue to develop and perfect your lance skills while mounted on the back of your Pegasus. All members of the Black Eagles Strike Force hone their skills constantly, never knowing when they will be called to battle against their enemies. Rising with the sun, you consume a hearty protein filled breakfast followed immediately by sweat laden muscle building exercise. Allowing a brief cooldown while you drink plenty of water to compensate your body for the fluid loss, you then spar and develop your lance techniques.

Lunch is spent socializing with your friends as best you can. Mostly you observe them, too shy to comment or draw attention to yourself. Watching everyone laugh at Caspar’s antics, nodding while all are complimenting Dorothea on her latest opera performance, and hiding your snickers as they give Linhardt a difficult time for just being his obnoxious self.

The next several hours are invested in your magical development. Practicing lower level spells, learning new spells, building your casting abilities and increasing your focus and concentration. Next you are sprinting to the stables for Pegasus or horseback riding. Finally, you clean up, have a light dinner and spend time with friends, or continue research.

If you check the dictionary for the word Shyness, there is a picture of you hiding behind a book and Bernie hiding behind you. Carrying on a conversation with a single person is manageable for you. A war council meeting with 10 or more people? You can manage to be present at the meeting. Participation is out of the question. Entering the room, you take a seat, placing your hands and notebook in your lap. Visibly above the table only your eyes and head move to the direction of the person speaking. Copious amounts of notes fill the pages of the notebook. Thoughts, perceptions, even recommendations on how to carry out tasks that are brought up at the meeting. After a meeting one day when the only two remaining in the room consist of you and Hubert, he asks to see your notes. He is quite aware of your hesitancy to address a group.

“These are excellent observations. Why did you not bring them up during the meeting?” The dark mage inquires, already knowing the answer.

“I, uh, did not want to interrupt. I just…” your voice fades to silence and you can only focus on your notebook on the table.

“May I suggest that you sit next to me during tomorrow’s meeting.” Hubert begins, “If you will allow me to discretely view your annotations, I will offer your thoughts in such a way that no attention or scrutiny will be directed towards yourself.”

“Sure.” You shrug. Not that you would ever disagree with him. You have heard Emperor Edelgard state too many times that Hubert is an extension of herself and any order or direction from him is the same as if she had proclaimed it herself.

Hubert rises and dismisses you. Skittering to your room you drop your book, fall lengthwise on the bed, smash your pillow into your face and scream. Hubert, your crush, noticed you. He appreciates some of your observations and you are invited to sit next to him. It takes you a few minutes to get your breathing under control and the flush to fade from your face.

Quickly throwing on your sparring garb, you run out to meet with Ferdinand for lance practice. Both of you obtain a healthy, challenging workout as he also educates you on the finer points of his presentation that he had made during the council meeting. You actively banter with him, bringing up some notable flaws and considerations which he appreciates and will review your logical points.  

The Strike Force is embroiled in a particularly rough battle close to the Oghma Mountains. The air is cooler there to begin with, however with it being Guardian Moon with temperatures below freezing, the winds tear through your clothes like frozen daggers of ice as you fly on your Pegasus. The close knit group is responding to the reports of a large quantity of enemy forces entering into Varley territory.

Your coal black steed swoops low, hooves barely clearing the ground as you direct your lance into the chest of an enemy cavalier. Just as the winged steed is directed to head back into the skies, an enemy mage strikes with a flash of purple light blinding your vision. An experienced flier such as yourself should have no problem hanging on, however the frigid temperatures combined with flying at dizzying heights and speeds have allowed the unforgiving chill of the weather into your limbs, your hands too numb to firmly grip your saddle, you are thrown from the back of your steed. The screams of dying soldiers the last thing you hear before you lose consciousness.

 There is no camp as they planned to arrive, fight, and return. The Empire’s Elite forces decide to detour further into Varley territory, where roads are better constructed and Inns are not too difficult to find.

You are carried from the field after the battle concludes. The healers asses your condition. A concussion and aftereffects of being struck by black magic. Your resistance has greatly improved since the academy days and you will recover without any permanent damage.  

Traversing the fields and undeveloped countryside on horseback is slow because several riders have to double up. Ferdinand offers to carry your unconscious form, however he has injuries of his own to care for. Hubert mounts his mages warhorse and is assisted with securing your unconscious form in front of him. He wraps his large cape around the both of you to assist in conserving warmth between you. Your Pegasus is given to another rider more accustomed to traversing at great heights, they scan the countryside and lead the way to safety.

The exhaustion from battle washes over everyone as they ride with little conversation heading east, eagerly anticipating a warm meal and soft bed for the evening.

Hubert checks your positioning, your back leaned up against his chest, your cheek pushed tight against his sternum.  

A soft voice mumbles from within his cape. “Yumm. Smells so good. Coffee.”  

The hand around your waist shifts slightly. “Shhh. Rest. You have a concussion.”

You snuggle closer to him in your haze. “Hubert’s voice is so deep and sexy. Mmmm.”

The dark mage’s eyes cast about him, nobody appears to be close enough to hear you but him.

The horse jostles you both as it steps into a dip of the ground and he tightens his grip around your waist.

“I want to have coffee with him. Stare into his gorgeous chartreuse eyes. Delicious.” You murmur.

The troops finally meet up with the road, the travel now much quicker with even ground for the horses to traverse. Hubert rooms with the Emperor while you are in a room with Linhardt and a few other injured soldiers.

 You arise quite early in the morning, having slept through much of the ride here. Running down to the stables you check your Pegasus, relieved that he is quite healthy. Heading back inside you grab breakfast and a large coffee, finding a quiet corner to sit and try to recall what happened that led you to finding yourself here.

A few others of your group are scattered about the room. You half-listen in on their conversations. You take your dishes back to the counter and obtain a refill. As you return to your seat, you are followed by Hubert.

“Might I join you?” he requests as he stands across the table.

“Absolutely.” You quietly answer as he takes the seat across from you. The coffee is too hot to drink, you wrap both hands around the cup, warming your fingers nicely.

��Are you feeling better today?” Hubert asks, bringing his drink to his lips for a sip.

Your eyes are riveted on his. You realize that you are gazing at him far too intensely, suddenly you’re looking away and breaking out in an embarrassing blush. “Yes. A bit of a headache. I feel much warmer. I recall the cold was getting the best of me. I should have stayed on the ground when my fingers started becoming numb. I hope I did not cause any major problems.” Bringing your cup to your lips, the coffee is still boiling hot. How can he drink it like that?

“Not at all.” He smiles, taking another sip.

The room begins to fill with the rest of their group. Linhardt sits next to Hubert, placing his plate filled with sweet rolls and cup of tea onto the table. “I can’t wait to get back and get some proper sleep.” The healer frowns. “Someone talks in their sleep and wouldn’t stop rambling about coffee all night long.” The cleric’s green eyes drill holes into you. You weakly smile as you raise your cup to cover your face and hide behind it. You sort of know you talk in your sleep, but this is the first time someone understood what you said. Mostly you were told you mumble. Just another reason to hide away and keep to yourself.

 The journey back to Enbarr is uneventful and quiet. Your Pegasus is not exactly thrilled to be grounded most of the way back, however the weather is cold and you do not wish to be chilled so soon again. Arriving home, you slip back into your regular routine, working on your muscles and skills. The weather is cold, wet and dreary, you must forgo riding for several afternoons.

Heading to the kitchen you decide a cup of coffee would be the perfect warmup on this chilly day. As you enter the always busy room, the cooks are bustling about, preparing the meat and vegetables for the next meal. As you finish preparing your drink, pouring it through a clean cloth filter, Hubert arrives to obtain yet another cup of his favorite caffeinated beverage. With too many people around you don’t speak, but you do wave to greet him.

“Afternoon.” The dark haired mage grumbles. “The weather is cold and miserable. Best for staying indoors by a warm fire.”

You nod slowly, gripping your cup firmly.

“There is a decent fire in the library should you need further assistance in combating the weather’s chill.” He says before the noise of grinding his coffee beans makes talking impractical.

You nod as you leave, heading to your room.

 You mull over Hubert’s suggestion to sit by a warm fire instead of freezing under your blanket in your cold and damp room. Summoning your courage, you decide it is to your benefit to seek a warmer location while you are studying, no matter who or how many others may be occupying the room. Turning the corner to where the fireplace is located in the library, you are surprised that only Hubert is here, occupying one of the more comfortable chairs in the room. The smell of the burning hardwood fills the room, adding to the warmth of the blazing flames. The other occupant does not raise his head from his reading as you sink into an overplush chair that comfortably hugs you. The upholstery is warm, immediately making you feel secure and relaxed. Placing your still warm coffee cup on the arm of the chair you open your reading material to where the bookmark holds your place. Concentrating on your book, you only raise your eyes to reflect on a particular passage or to imagine the depths and runes of the spell you are studying.

Reading a particular dark magic spell you look to the other spellcaster in the room. Your mind conjures up the last time you observed him cast this spell, perfect concentration reflected in his face. His posture is immaculate, leaning slightly forward, his right arm fully extended creating the runes consummately while his voice deeply and powerfully orders the incantation. The purple luster of magic gathering in front of him, quickly growing in magnitude and power as the spell bursts forth, striking and eliminating the enemy. Unconsciously you let out a sigh of awe.

“Pardon?” suddenly his eyes are focused on you, his brows raised.

“Your spellcasting is fabulously perfect.” The words are out of your mouth before you realize you had said them out loud. Your cheeks burn with the heat of a blush as you desperately resist the urge to bury your face in the pages before you.

“Thank you.” He muses.

Both parties return to their reading, the only sound in the room is the occasional page turning and the popping and crackling of the fire.

A throat clearing ahead of you draws your attention from your book.

“Should you wish to further your development of your reason magic skills, I humbly offer my assistance.” Hubert proposes for your consideration, not looking up from his reading.

“To increase my abilities aiding the cause toward our Emperors victory, I accept your proposition.” You smile widely.

There is the slightest smile that flashes across Hubert’s lips that you are thrilled to bear witness to.

 Hubert joins you in the spellcasting section of the training grounds when he finds the time. Your stomach flips every time he touches you to correct your arm position, your stance, standing behind you to watch your rune manipulation. By the time he leaves to head to his next appointment you are tomato red and breathless.

 Today is one of your longer learning sessions and quite productive. After dinner, you decide to retire to the Library to procure a book Hubert recommends that covers additional spells and manipulation of runes. The two comfy chairs are taken by others, thus you make do with alternate seating on the couch that faces the fireplace directly. Placing your coffee cup on the end table you open the tome and become immediately immersed in its contents. The other occupants of the Library leave without your notice.

Hubert greets you as he enters the room. Taking a seat on the other end of the couch, he places his coffee on the end table, opens his book and begins reading.

After reading quietly for nearly an hour you are deep into the section dissecting rune manipulation and you find there are a few passages that are not quite make sense to you. You stop to take a sip of your now very cold coffee, nearly choking on the nasty liquid.

Hubert looks over to you. “Are you all right?”

“Cold coffee.” You stammer and catch your breath. “Actually, I have a question about this section here…” You say, holding the book between you, scooting a bit closer to him as you point out the section. The dark haired mage slides next to you so that you both can review the passage. He carefully explains the runes, their order and how the instruction of the manipulation contributes to the verbal incantation thus giving the magical energy and power to the spell.

Everything suddenly clicks. Smiling brightly in your frenzied joy, you turn to Hubert and give him a peck on his cheek.

Your gasp as your eyes go wide as realization hits you regarding your most recent action.        

Hubbert’s gloved fingers gently grasp the side of your jaw, turning your face toward him again. “I think you meant…” he hums as his lips gently meet yours in a soft kiss. You grab his lapels, keeping your lips pressed together until you find the need to breathe again.

He slides his arm around your shoulder as you lean into his chest.

Hubert presses his lips to the crown of your head. “I find you delicious as well.”  

[randomguywithwords]

Thanks For The Assist: Chapter 2 (Itsuka X Neito Story)

AO3 Link: Here

Chapters: 1

Chapter 2: Acceptance

––––––––

“How was the test?” Father asked as the three of them sat at the dinner table eating. 

“Ok, I think I did fine,” Monoma said as he picked up a slice of meat.

“How were you graded?” Mother said. 

“Fought some robots. You get points the more you destroy. The harder the robot, the more points you get. The field was massive, pretty much a life-size city, and I think they had at least 3.” Monoma explained with patience, though he suspected this expositioning was boring the other audience with information they already knew. 

Mother hummed her assent. “I’m not surprised. U.A has a ton of money. More money than they need, really…” She ended her statement in a mutter. It sounded like constrained resentment to Neito. It probably was, but understandable. 

“Isn’t the ministry diverting more money towards your school, dear?” Father said. 

“Yes, I suppose. After years of appeals by the school committee. Hopefully I can obtain better equipment to teach those kids.” Mrs Monoma sighed, looking back towards Neito. “But I hope you get in, Neito. I have to admit, it’s really once-in-a-lifetime, and U.A will make you a fine hero.”

“Thanks, mother.” Neito smiled. A fine hero. The phrase did not apply to him, not in the societal nor linguistic sense of the word. A hero relied on himself to get the job done, at the end of the day. With what he had, that was an impossibility. 

“None of the other kids gave you trouble, did they?” Father asked, and Monoma winced on the inside, thinking about the events transpiring just after the test. 

“No, they were nice people,” He said. It was no lie, by technicalities. There was that girl, after all. Kendo, was it? She was nice. 

Father seemed to perk up at his answer, gladdened. “That’s good,” He gave an approving nod. “I’m glad they weren’t like your schoolmates.”

Neito waved his hand like an aristocrat at a banquet. “Nah, I think maybe those guys were just ––” He struggled for the proper word. “Lame.” He ended, and grinned internally at the apt description of his dialogue. But that smile died in the next instant when he thought about what he had wanted to say. 

Flat characters. A character with one dimension, owning a singular character trait to serve a purpose in a story. That’s what he called them, but not Mother. 

“About time kids your age learned some maturity,” She said, her ‘teacher’ side emerging. “Not you, Neito – of course. You’re a sensible boy. Apart from your silly theatrics, but you’ll grow out of it.”

There it is, He sighed, on the inside – or, aside. That was how the plays would state inner actions on the script. But Mother doesn’t like plays, does she now? 

“Neito, tell us about the fighting,” Father interjected with a smile that was a bit too wide, “What quirks did you use?” 

Neito gave a response, but his heart was no longer in the conversation, having been chilled by Mother’s own lovely warmth that she had no idea she was radiating. 

–––––

The letter came a week later when his parents were at work. Neito opened it up in his room. After all, where else would he? Only in his room could he find solace. And on his bed, comfort, so he plopped himself down and opened the envelope. 

The contents contained a disc. A holographic. Taking it out and laying it on his bed, he pressed the blue button in the centre, producing a video on the wall.

It was the scene of an office, with a mouse sitting on a chair and a cup of tea on the glass table. He recognised the principal of U.A himself.

“Neito Monoma! Very good afternoon, or morning, or night, to you – depending when you see this, of course. On the off chance you are unaware of me, I am Nezu, principal of U.A High. This video is approximately 5 minutes long, but I will save you the suspense. You got in. Congratulations.”

His heart soared, and he pumped a fist in the air, breathing a sigh in much-desired catharsis. Had he been holding that in since the beginning? 

“You are, both celebrating – I would hope, and also wondering what the remaining 4 and a half minutes are about. Please do not ignore the rest of this video, because I want to review two things: your performance at the entrance exam, and your quirk. Take a look at this.” 

The video showed clips of Monoma from a birds’ eye view, running around and using his borrowed quirks, as well as him tapping random strangers. He noted how a lot of them turned their heads in evident surprise and puzzlement at him patting them on the shoulder or arm. And then the clip played of him taking a couple of points away from those guys. 

Nezu clucked his tongue. “Many in society would deem that as ‘un-hero-like’ behaviour, as it can be interpreted as stealing, or taking what does not belong to you. Criminal acts indeed, if the deed is severe and the stolen thing valuable. But, your quirk acts on that very principle of taking what does not belong to you.”

The (overwhelmingly intelligent, Monoma realised) mouse continued, “I’ve taken the liberty of reviewing your application and academics. You boast admirable grades in your middle school, and your form teacher commented that you were a highly observant, smart and mature student. I could go on, but you know what you’ve submitted. I will continue with that presumed knowledge.”

“You must have realised by now, or very early on in your career as a hero aspirant, that your quirk is unorthodox, having no use on its own. You require allies, or foes who you can lay a finger on, to fight. And even then, you must hastily adapt to whatever quirk you have under your control, for a period of time. Lots of limitations, Mr Monoma. A lot of challenges you have faced, are facing, and will face. And when you are initiated into my school, expect more.” Nezu took a sip of his tea.

“That’s not to say you will face difficulties many would describe as ‘hell’ at U.A. And neither does my previous statement imply U.A is not ‘hell’.” He paused. “Do excuse my roundabout mannerisms of speech. It is a bad habit of mine.” Nezu chuckled.

“Simply put, I have taken a personal interest in you, Mr Monoma, for your cunning, your intellect, and your quirk. Report to me after your first day of school. We will talk more then. Congratulations once more. Another letter will arrive tomorrow to inform you of the minutiae regarding your inception into U.A. Good day, Neito Monoma.”

The holographic faded out, and Neito was staring at a blank wall for a few seconds trying to process whatever Nezu had said.  

A buzz from his phone pulled him out of his hazy thoughts. He is...really smart. 

It was from Kendo. “Hi, Monoma, It’s Kendo! The girl with big hands. Wanted to ask you whether you received the letter from U.A.” 

He typed a response. “Yeah, I got a letter. What’s your verdict?” 

Fingers crossed. 

She responded, “I got in. >< You?” 

A smile spread across his face. “Same, that’s awesome. Congratulations.”

“YAY! :D We both did it! Congrats too! And I was so shocked that All Might was in the video! I nearly cried. Or maybe I did, idk. Sorry, I’m babbling at this point, but I don’t have anyone else to tell this to until my parents get home and I’m so hypeddd”

Huh? All Might? So Nezu specifically…

He typed, “It’s ok, I’m excited too. Though I don’t express it over text that much.” 

“Haha it’s ok. Can’t wait for the letter tomorrow. There’s so much to do! Hero costume, uniforms, books, all that. And term starts a month from now. Can’t wait!” 

“Wow, how’d you know all this?”

“Mainly from the internet. I was that hyped, y’know?”

He cracked another smile from her enthusiasm. It was oddly contagious, and he found himself more zealous to go to school. That was a statement he’d never think he could formulate in his mind. “I see. That’s cool.”

“Btw, if you wanna go celebrate with your family or friends, go ahead! I don’t wanna hold you back.”

“Nah, my parents are at work and I’m basically alone at home. Same boat as you. So, fire away.”

“Ah, ok!” 

The conversation continued with Kendo gushing about their new life, and Monoma passively followed along, inserting a few comments here and there. But he didn’t feel like he was stuck at a family reunion forced to endure his grandfather’s stories with a placating smile and affirming nods peppered in occasionally. She was actually interesting, and amusing, in a good way. 

The topic was centered around school and academics, with little butting into personal lives, and Monoma didn’t pry. She was still a stranger, somewhat, albeit she would be his new schoolmate – and perhaps classmate. He crossed his fingers again, hoping that Fate would tap him lightly on the head once more with her providence. 

He smiled when Kendo typed, “Hope we become classmates :D. Apparently there are always 2 first-year classes. So it’s basically a coin flip.”

“Heads.” 

“Rly? Do you always choose heads?”

“Yeah.” 

“I’m more of a switcher.”

“How do you decide when to choose heads or tails then?”

“Coin flip.”

“That made me laugh, thank you.”

“Why do you need to thank people for making you laugh? It’s a spontaneous thing.”

“That’s...oddly profound.”

“Or just a dumb statement made to sound fancy. Ah, sorry, I have to go now. But thank you for your time. It was great chatting :)” 

“Why do you need to thank people for chatting with you? It’s a spontaneous thing. Joking aside, thank you too.”

“Nice haha” Was her last message. Neito turned his phone off and lied down on his bed. A moment passed, and Neito took a coin from his study desk. It was a silly thing to do, but his room was his stage. He was performing for himself. 

He gave it a toss and caught it. 

Seeing the result, he grinned.

–––––––

Yeek, this took longer than it should have, sorry. Had a bit of writer’s block when it came to planning this thing and I wasn’t sure how to move on. Also the tone of this is especially terrifying for me because it’s definitely going to be (ironically) more light-hearted, with Monoma’s dramatic language and (side thoughts) occasionally inserted, but that brings the challenge of need. When to do that, when not to. This story is a personal challenge to change my narrative style just slightly. 

Anyway, I hoped you MonoKendo ppl liked it. A lot of people have told me it’s unfortunate the ship lacks content and I couldn’t agree more. But then again, that’s about 75% of the ships out there. (Fk it, 90%). So, here’s my contribution, alongside some other one-shots. 

Feedback’s appreciated :D

[yesazea]

How to Start a Conversation the Right Way

Some people just seem to possess a knack for creating conversation while others struggle to form chitchat. Knowing the way to start a conversation may be a useful social skill. Whether you would like to impress a possible client, strike up a conversation with a love interest, or simply chat with a replacement acquaintance, knowing the way to initiate a conversation can assist you to feel easier and assured during a big variety of social situations.

Before you start

If an area filled with strangers is your idea of a waking nightmare, the thought of getting to a celebration or work event is often incredibly daunting. These kinds of social situations are often especially difficult if you tend to be introverted, shy, or socially anxious.

One way to ease anxiety is to organize beforehand. Mentally review what you would like to speak about and even consider practicing with a lover. the primary step toward becoming a tremendous conversationalist it to be prepared.

If you're nervous about starting a conversation, try these three simple strategies before you begin:

1-Stay Positive:

Stop worrying about making an error and have faith in your abilities. Worrying an excessive amount of about what you're getting to say next can cause you to lose track of the conversation as it’s happening. Instead, attempt to stay focused on the opposite person and what they're saying.

2-Take a Deep Breath: 

If you're tense and nervous, you're less likely to feel comfortable. attempt to stay relaxed and just let the conversation flow naturally.

3-Introduce Yourself:

 one of the only ways to start is to only introduce yourself then give the opposite person the prospect to try to an equivalent. Once this first icebreaker has taken place, try asking an easy question or making an easy observation to assist inspire further discussion.

Conversation Killers

While it should go without saying, there are a couple of belongings you should avoid unless you're very conversant in the person with whom you're speaking.

While political commentary, gossip, complaints, and offensive jokes could be how your uncle starts conversations during your family get-togethers, it's probably not an example you ought to attempt to emulate in your day-to-day life.

Anything offensive, controversial, or uncomfortable should be avoided as you're initiating conversations.

There is a time and place to precise your opinion or maybe attempt to persuade others, but confirm that such topics are welcome before you get down to an impassioned debate.

Some research suggests that when it involves conversation openers, your best bet could also be to stay to fairly innocuous comments. In one study, participants were asked to rate the effectiveness of a variety of opening lines which may come from a possible romantic partner: flippant "pick-up" lines, open-ended, innocuous questions, and therefore the direct approach.

Few respondents appreciated the pick-up line approach, but responses attended be split when it came to preferences for the opposite two opening styles. Women attended to prefer the innocuous questions ("What's your favorite team?") while men favored the more direct approach ("I'd wish to buy you a drink!").

The authors of the study suggest that it's best to err on the side of the innocuous approach when choosing how to initiate a conversation with a stranger. this sort of conversation opener tends to be less threatening, yet encourages the opposite person to supply some sort of response.

Keep It Positive

Try to start your conversation on an upbeat note. stand back from launching into complaints or making negative observations. regardless of what things are, you'll find something positive to mention.

Comment on the weather, the food, the corporate, or the event itself. Saying something as simple as you're having an honest time and hoping that your conversation partner has a pleasing experience also may be a great way to urge a conversation rolling. albeit things itself isn't perfect, attempt to put a positive spin thereon.

Comments to steer With

“That was a very great presentation, wasn’t it?” “Whoever organized this event sure did an excellent job!” “Your presentation was excellent. I desire I learned a lot!” “It’s quite cold today but the weather report said that tomorrow is meant to be nice and sunny.” People tend to reply better to a positive comment instead of a negative one. It helps show that you simply are a pleasing one that pays attention to what’s happening. Staying positive also helps put others comfortable. As a result, people are going to be more curious about continuing a conversation with you.

Start Simple

Not every great conversation must begin with a deep, philosophical, earth-shattering observation. Simple icebreaker comments or questions are excellent thanks to the beginning.

Commenting on the weather, the room, or the food might sound cliche, but there's a reason why this type of icebreaker works so well. It’s an easy, easy thanks to getting a conversation rolling, offering a touch of footing between two strangers. Talking about inconsequential things can cause further conversations about personal preferences, backgrounds, hobbies, and deeper topics which will help forge social bonds between people.

What the Research Says

In one study published within the journal psychology, researchers performed naturalistic observations on participants to record both chitchat and deep conversations for several days.

What they found is that folks who engaged in deeper, personal conversations also had higher levels of happiness. This might mean that happy people are more likely to interact with others in meaningful conversations—but it also might mean that such substantive conversations may very well cause greater happiness. The researchers suggest that “the findings demonstrate that the happy life is social instead of solitary and conversationally deep instead of superficial.”

Not everyone loves making chitchat, but it is often a crucial initiative that will cause deeper, more meaningful conversations.

While starting a conversation often begins by that specialize in small, trivial things, research suggests that having more deep conversations could also be linked to greater happiness and well-being.

Learning the way to start a conversation can help lead you into these more consequential social connections.

Ask for Help

Asking an issue may be a good way to start a conversation. Doing this not only gives you a reason to interact with the opposite person—but it also allows them to be helpful.

When using this approach, start with something simple which will be accomplished without an excellent deal of effort. for instance, you would possibly ask someone if they know what time a workshop begins or directions to a specific location.

Conversation Starters

“Do you happen to understand where I could get a schedule?” “Have you seen an earring? I seem to possess lost one.” “Do you recognize if there'll be refreshments served after the workshop?” One of the advantages of this approach is that asking an easy question can cause further conversation about other topics. Once you've got posed your question and therefore the other person has offered their assistance, it creates something of a reciprocal agreement between you and your conversation partner.

Since they need offering their assistance, it's now up to you to offer your thanks and introduce yourself. this will function a chance for you to ask more about the opposite person—who they're, what brings them here, and other questions that are relevant given the setting and situation.

Body Language

Sometimes what you are doing say is simply as important as what you do say. As you strike up a replacement conversation, it's important to concentrate on your nonverbal communication.

Body language is often wont to convey interest and emotion. A friendly expression, comfortable stance, and good eye contact, for instance, can help show that you simply have a real interest in learning more about another person. Slouching, looking away, and frowning, on the opposite hand, might make your conversation partner feel that you simply are bored or disinterested.

Encouraging nonverbal signals include:

An open posture, which involves keeping the trunk of your body open together with your arms relaxed, helps convey a way of friendliness. Good eye contact involves watching a person’s eyes. Don’t stare, which may be threatening. Instead, keep things natural, watching the opposite person’s eyes but glancing away occasionally. Smiling is often helpful, as long because it seems genuine and natural. Avoid faking an enormous smile and check out to travel for a relaxed but uplifting expression.

Listen and Express Interest

It is often intimidating to undertake to speak to someone when it feels that you simply have little in common. In these situations, getting the opposite person to speak about his or her interests, work, or expertise is often useful thanks to starting a conversation.

Ask an issue about what the opposite person does, then specialize in really taking note of what they need to mention. People often enjoy talking about things they're hooked in to, so expressing a real interest in the things that people enjoy are often excellent fuel for an excellent conversation.

Strike a Balance

A good conversation doesn't believe only one approach.

The best discussions involve a mix of asking questions, taking note of what people need to say, and sharing things about yourself.

A simple conversation might start by:

Asking some basic information (“Did you enjoy the presentation?”) Listening to the solution (“It was great! I desire I learned a lot!”) Disclosing your thoughts (“I thought so also . I have already got some ideas about how I can incorporate those tips into my work process.”) Next, you would possibly repeat the method by asking another question, or your conversation partner might then prefer to ask an issue about your earlier response.) Learning the way to start a conversation is a crucial skill that will assist you to build social connections during a big variety of contexts. It is often difficult initially, particularly if you struggle with shyness or social anxiety, but gaining many practices is the key to become easier to lecture to people.

Try to consider all of those interactions as a rehearsal. The more often you initiate discussions with others, the stronger your conversational skills will become.

[dgdfherytryu567]

“MoVies” — After We Collided 2020 , Ful^Movie — Watch ONLINE!!

Tessa finds herself struggling with her complicated relationship with Hardin; she faces a dilemma that could change their lives forever.

https://rollingfhr.xyz/en/movie/613504/after-we-collided

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No copyright infringement intended. ¦H¦A¦P¦P¦Y¦ ¦W¦A¦T¦C¦H¦I¦N¦G¦ ¦E¦N¦J¦O¦Y¦ Find all the tv series and movies that you can stream online, including the series that aired today. If you are wondering what can you watch on this website, then you should know that it entails genres that include Crime, Drama, Mystery, Action & Adventure series, shows. Thank you very much. We say to all those who are happy to accept us as news or information about the program schedule of the season, episodes and how you watch your favorite television shows. Hopefully we can become the best partner for you in finding recommendations for a television show from various countries around the world. That’s all from us, greetings!, Thanks for watching Guys, keep in touch on Twitter and make sure you let us know if you enjoyed it or not (we don’t give a fuck if you don’t like it). Don’t forget to make around you smile with a sense of optimism. :)) TELEVISION SHOW AND HISTORY A television show (often simply TV show) is any content produced for broadcast via over-the-air, satellite, cable, or internet and typically viewed on a television set, excluding breaking news, advertisements, or trailers that are typically placed between shows. Television shows are most often scheduled well ahead of time and appear on electronic guides or other TV listings. A television show might also be called a television program (British English: programme), especially if it lacks a narrative structure. A television series is usually released in episodes that follow a narrative, and are usually divided into seasons (US and Canada) or series (UK) — yearly or semiannual sets of new episodes. A show with a limited number of episodes may be called a miniseries, serial, or limited series. A one-time show may be called a “special”. A television film (“made-for-TV movie” or “television movie”) is a film that is initially broadcast on television rather than released in theaters or direct-to-video. Television shows can be viewed as they are broadcast in real time (live), be recorded on home video or a digital video recorder for later viewing, or be viewed on demand via a set-top box or streamed over the internet. The first television shows were experimental, sporadic broadcasts viewable only within a very short range from the broadcast tower starting in the 1930s. Televised events such as the 1936 Summer Olympics in Germany, the 1937 coronation of King George VI in the UK, and David Sarnoff’s famous introduction at the 1939 New York World’s Fair in the US spurred a growth in the medium, but World War II put a halt to development until after the war. The 1947 World Series inspired many Americans to buy their first television set and then in 1948, the popular radio show Texaco Star Theater made the move and became the first weekly televised variety show, earning host Milton Berle the name “Mr Television” and demonstrating that the medium was a stable, modern form of entertainment which could attract advertisers. The first national live television broadcast in the US took place on September 4, 1951 when President Harry Truman’s speech at the Japanese Peace Treaty Conference in San Francisco was transmitted over AT&T’s transcontinental cable and microwave radio relay system to broadcast stations in local markets. The first national color broadcast (the 1954 Tournament of Roses Parade) in the US occurred on January 1, 1954. During the following ten years most network broadcasts, and nearly all local programming, continued to be in black-and-white. A color transition was announced for the fall of 1965, during which over half of all network prime-time programming would be broadcast in color. The first all-color prime-time season came just one year later. In 1972, the last holdout among daytime network shows converted to color, resulting in the first completely all-color network season. FORMATS AND GENRES Television shows are more varied than most other forms of media due to the wide variety of formats and genres that can be presented. A show may be fictional (as in comedies and dramas), or non-fictional (as in documentary, news, and reality television). It may be topical (as in the case of a local newscast and some made-for-television films), or historical (as in the case of many documentaries and fictional series). They could be primarily instructional or educational, or entertaining as is the case in situation comedy and game shows. A drama program usually features a set of actors playing characters in a historical or contemporary setting. The program follows their lives and adventures. Before the 1980s, shows (except for soap opera-type serials) typically remained static without story arcs, and the main characters and premise changed little. If some change happened to the characters’ lives during the episode, it was usually undone by the end. Because of this, the episodes could be broadcast in any order. Since the 1980s, many series feature progressive change in the plot, the characters, or both. For instance, Hill Street Blues and St. Elsewhere were two of the first American prime time drama television series to have this kind of dramatic structure,while the later series Babylon 5 further exemplifies such structure in that it had a predetermined story running over its intended five-season run. In 2012, it was reported that television was growing into a larger component of major media companies’ revenues than film. Some also noted the increase in quality of some television programs. In 2012, Academy-Award-winning film director Steven Soderbergh, commenting on ambiguity and complexity of character and narrative, stated: “I think those qualities are now being seen on television and that people who want to see stories that have those kinds of qualities are watching television. CREDITS Find all the movies that you can stream online, including those that were screened this week. If you are wondering what you can watch on this website, then you should know that it covers genres that include crime, Science, Fi-Fi, action, romance, thriller, Comedy, drama, Anime Movie, etc. Thank you very much. We tell everyone who is happy to receive us as news or information about this year’s film schedule and how you watch your favorite films. Hopefully we can become the best partner for you in finding recommendations for your favorite movies. That’s all from us, greetings! United States When a person or company decides to create a new series, they develop the show’s elements, consisting of the concept, the characters, the crew, and cast. Then they often “pitch” it to the various networks in an attempt to find one interested enough to order a prototype first episode of the series, known as a pilot.[citation needed] Eric Coleman, an animation executive at Disney, told an interviewer, “One misconception is that it’s very difficult to get in and pitch your show, when the truth is that development executives at networks want very much to hear ideas. They want very much to get the word out on what types of shows they’re looking for.”[7] To create the pilot, the structure and team of the whole series must be put together. If audiences respond well to the pilot, the network will pick up the show to air it the next season (usually Fall).[citation needed] Sometimes they save it for mid-season, or request rewrites and additional review (known in the industry as development hell).[citation needed] Other times, they pass entirely, forcing the show’s creator to “shop it around” to other networks. Many shows never make it past the pilot stage.[citation needed] The show hires a stable of writers, who usually work in parallel: the first writer works on the first episode, the second on the second episode, etc.[citation needed] When all the writers have been used, episode assignment starts again with the first writer.[citation needed] On other shows, however, the writers work as a team. Sometimes they develop story ideas individually, and pitch them to the show’s creator, who folds them together into a script and rewrites them.[citation needed] If the show is picked up, the network orders a “run” of episodes — usually only six or 11 episodes at first, though a season typically consists of at least 22 episodes.[citation needed] The midseason seven and last nine episodes are sometimes called the “mid-seven” and “back nine” — borrowing the colloquial terms from bowling and golf.[citation needed] Thanks u for visiting, I hope u enjoy with this Movie Have a Nice Day and Happy Watching :)

[esthersnippe]

Becoming a Digital Nomad: A quick and dirty guide to UpWork

(My “office” on the Isla of Flores in Guatemala)

Freelancing is one of the best jobs I’ve ever had. 

Although now I have moved off of freelancing and am more of an independent contractor, I still pick up a few freelancing projects ever quarter.

Because it is simply a great way to make money. Loads of people are leaving their office and opting for something more flexible: according to the FreshBooks Self-Employment Report, potentially 27 million Americans will leave the traditional work in favor of self-employment by 2020. This shift would triple the current population of full-time self-employed professionals bringing the total number of workers to 42 million.

And that’s just in the US, imagine what these figures look like globally.

I’m guessing if you are here reading this, we’ve talked about it already and I have sent you the link, so you are pretty sold: but let’s review:

You choose your hours. No bosses saying “You’re ten minutes late!” or having to suffer through another 8-hour shift that just never seems to end. You pick when you work. If you are hungover and can’t bring it to the table: that’s your call. (But warning: you will not get the money if you don’t work.) 

You choose your projects. After the first couple projects (which is a bit of a mad and dirty dash, I am afraid) you get to start to get choices. Storytime! Once I was working for this American Museum Tour company. At first, they were loads of fun, and they even flew me to New York City multiple times, and I got a paid trip to Switzerland. Things were great, until the point they weren’t. Then I began to hate it with the passion of a thousand suns. So one day, I just quit. The next day, I found another project, and they paid me more money, and were a better company. It was bloody easy. Stop suffering. Pick a project you like and only stick with it until/if you stop liking them.  (Note: I have been with the new client for 3 years, and they are still a dream to work with.) 

You get paid real money. There is this idea that if it happens on the internet, maybe there is something sketchy about it. This could be true in some cases: but in this case, you get actual money (ok, sometimes it is in a different currency then the country you are living in, but you can turn it into your currency) that goes into your actual bank account and you can actually buy and pay for things. For sitting at home.  Doing stuff on your laptop. 

You can learn new stuff on the job. I definitely didn’t start out with all the skills I have now. I started off as a modest internet researcher, and through time, worked my way up to having this whole jetpack of skills that clients not only want, but need. Don’t feel daunted about not being able to do everything right away. Start with a good project, and be a sponge. Learn as much as you can, because these skills are valuable (remember the part about making real money?) 

You can go anywhere in the world. As long as they have wifi, and your clients are ok with you being in a different timezone? You can go anywhere. Since working as a freelancer, I have travelled to, get this, 30 countries. Screw waiting around for a two-week vacation. Go see the world. And make some money while you do it.

Now, here comes the part where I bring that excitement down to a reasonable level.

There are some hard truths about freelancing I am going to be frank about.

The first is that it is real work. You’ve got to be dedicated and you absolutely have to have a rock-solid work ethic. If you don’t, you will not get very far, because this is not the kind of job you can “float by” on. People will drop you like a hot potato the second you stop performing. And there is no safety net. You will have to hustle your own projects for the first bit: people will not be chomping at the bit to get you. In fact, they will probably, most like, almost definitely ignore you for the most part. There are literally 12 million users on UpWork: if you aren’t hustling, you aren’t going anywhere. Apply for ten positions a day. Get up at 4am for a Skype interview. Be charming af. Follow up, then follow up again. Don’t let them forget you, and if they don’t hire you, ask why and then get better. You’ve got to get your own work. Lastly, you are probably not going to make mad money right away. The money is there, and you can have some of it, but you are probably going to have to do a bit of grunt work first, and I am talking up to 2-3 months at a low rate. But keep at it. There is a bunch of money and magic at the top of the mountain.

Still with me?

Ok. Let’s get into it.

Why UpWork?

So, when I first started freelancing, I signed up for a few different Freelancing websites that were around at the time: oDesk, Elance and Freelancer.   There were others I looked at, like Toptal and Fivrr. But I couldn’t see how people could make actual money to pay bills on Fivrr, but didn’t have high enough skills or experience for Toptal.   I got work within a few weeks of signing up for oDesk, and after seeing the cut that Freelancer was taking after one project, stuck with oDesk. oDesk merged with Elance, they changed their name to UpWork, and here we are.  

That being said: I love UpWork. At one point, one of my clients asked me if we could leave UpWork, and he would pay me directly. I agreed. That is $1000 I will never get back. He was a nice guy, but at that moment, I was screwed over, and there was nothing I could do. UpWork protects you from that happening. 

Secondly, with the sheer amount of freelancers on the site: clients are simply drawn to UpWork. They aren’t just looking for the cheapest: they are looking for the variety.

Note: I am not longer using UpWork, and work 100% on my regular clients and referrals. But there is no way I would have gotten there, or gotten so many skills, without UpWork, so I still think it is the best place to start.

Setting up your profile

Here are three great articles on how to set up a great profile:

Enhance Your Upwork Freelancer Profile for Greater Success

How to Create an Upwork Profile That Gets You Clients, FAST

Sample: Profile

I am not going to rewrite what they’ve said. Because that is a waste of time (hurray for understanding time management!)

But here are my top 6 tips:

Upload a profile picture where you look good. I mean real good. Don’t be an a** about it either. Clean, professional, and hot. That’s all. No party hats or dogs or sunglasses or duck-facey, off camera looks.

Pick 5 skills. Even though they let you have 10: be clear about what you can and want to do. Now, on the topic of skills: you do not need a journalism degree to be a writer. Or a photography degree to manage an Instagram account. Think about the kinds of things you like. Are you a grammar nut? Put those skills to work as an editor. Do you speak multiple langauges fluently? Become a translator. Do you love spreadsheets? That is a freaking skill, (wo)man! Are you generally a happy-go-lucky, I-can-get-shit-done kind of person? Be someone’s personal virtual assistant. You do not have to be defined by what you’ve already done, focus on what you like to do.  

Watch out for typos. I was hiring for this client once, and found a woman who was amazing. We had a skype interview and I was ready to sign on the dotting line, but at the last minute, my client looked at her profile and found a typo and said “No.” Simple as that. I was gutted, because she was really fantastic. Have someone proofread your profile, because it’s that easy for potential clients to move on to the next person.

Don’t worry about tests. Very few clients look at them. Or care. Even if you are in the top 5%. They are nice, but also, kind of a waste of time. 

Fill in your profile so that your bar goes up to 100%. Just do it. I know it’s work, but you’ll get more clients.

Set a reasonable rate for how long you’ve been on the site. Yes, I know you’d love to be paid $50 and hour, but if you’ve got zero experience or hours, you are not going to get clients. Honestly, start at $7-$10 an hour. Then after your first 100 hours, you can bump your rate up to what you think you should be getting. Why 100 hours? Because it puts you in a different search category: a better one. Wait...what are these search categories? Well, when a client is looking for someone, this is what it looks like:

See that massive jump in the number of  Freelancers (the bracket number) on the “Hours Billed” section? That means your competition decreases by more than half, and you can start to get more choosy about your gigs. 

On getting hired

Remember that thing I said about hustling? Yep. You’ve got to do that.

But here are some more tips.

Apply, apply, apply. Then apply some more. I don’t even know how many proposals I wrote in those first few weeks, but it was a lot. And here’s the thing, you can’t cheat. You’ve got to read the position, and write to them personally. All the low-end people cut and paste and never move ahead. Put some soul into it, especially at first.

Start small (I mean cheap): Although your insides might be screaming “I AM BETTER THAN THAT.” take 1-3 low paid one-off projects. Get a five-star rating and use it to propel yourself to the next freelancer level.

In the interview process: be as attentive as possible. This means responding right away to messages, and being available for interviews even if the hours are weird (remember the 4am comment? Yeah, I did that once). Follow up with them, and then follow up again. Be impressive.

On working as a freelancer

Wow! Have you gotten a gig? Good job! You rock! From here on in you are kind of a free agent, and it is between you and your client, but here are some tips.

Get really good at online communication. This means responding to emails quickly, and being clear. This means if at any point you don’t understand what your client wants: you ask them before charging them for work they didn’t need or want or is incorrect. Give them your email, Facebook and Skype, and ask them how their team communicates (Google Hangouts? Slack? Basecamp *gulp*) then be there.

Download the time tracker and stick to working when you are working. It takes three seconds to turn off the tracker, check your Facebook, and then turn it on again. But once you get a screen grab of you hanging out on Facebook, it looks bad. Also, I have come to suspect (from being caught more than once) that UpWork automatically looks for you slacking off, ie. Facebook.

Get your hours in. If they have given you hours, they expect the work to be done. Coming back without the work done with excuses and worse, not having filled up your hours? Bad. Remember the thing I said about them dropping you like you’re hot? Get the work done in the hours they’ve given you, or talk with them and discuss with them why you need fewer hours. That is far better than simply coming up short.

Getting good feedback is important. Even if this means swallowing your pride from time to time. Here is what they are going to rate you on: 

But wait: why is there public feedback and private feedback? Well, you know how you’ve got that job success thing on the side of your profile?  Over time, you get secret points. Those secret points work up to you being featured higher when the clients use the search tool. Also, you’ll get some cool perks in the future, like the Premium Freelancer program.

Lastly, and most importantly: GETTING PAID So, I have to be honest here. I have never fully figured out the timing of the payments. It goes through my PayPal, and whenever it hits a $1000 of earning, it goes into my bank account. There is a bunch of information here though. If you’d like to talk to me privately about payments (ie. Taxes and other trickier areas) feel free to message me.

I hope this gives you enough to get started. As I said before, freelancing is an amazing option if you are done with the office and dream about doing something slightly more, slightly different and have the gumption to do it. If you have any questions, want me to review your profile, or just want to talk more about freelancing— shoot me off a message, I love helping people get one step closer to freedom, be that fiscal or philosophical.

PS. Here is the list of countries I’ve been to while working as a freelancer: Austria, Belarus, Belize, Canada, Costa Rica, Croatia, Czech Republic, El Salvador, England, Faroe Islands, France, Guatemala, Germany, Honduras, Iceland, Lithuania, Mexico, Netherlands, Nicaragua, Norway, Panama, Poland, Portugal, Romania, Russia, Spain, Switzerland, Ukraine, United Kingdom, and the United States.

[bihexualboi]

“Self-Control” Endless Summer College AU

Chapter 3: Temptation

Author’s Note: A chapter-based series I plan to update as frequently as possible for my favorite Choices book ever. I was inspired to undertake this personal project because of a wonderful friend @mlmseangayle. Expect art of significant scenes in my fic. Hope y’all enjoy!

Synopsis: Emrys studies his academic courses extensively. Can Emrys learn to study other people? Or will he fall to their temptations?

Reporting the robbery to the police had taken longer than Emrys had expected, so he knew he didn’t have time to study once he went home. Before departing the scene he exchanged numbers with Estela giving her a quick embrace for saving him, which she was hesitant to receive at first but soon willing returned the hug. Emrys began walking toward his apartment complex noticing a crowd had formed around the area the incident occurred. Mumbled voices and hushed conversations of Hartfeld students and locals greeted Emrys as curious eyes surveyed his every movement. Outside he recognized a familiar face and distinctive curly hair he could spot amongst any crowd it was Diego. Diego hurriedly asked each bystander if they’ve seen someone fitting the description on his phone until he made eye contact with Emrys.

“Emrys! Oh my God! I’m so happy your okay,” he shouted as he ran toward Emrys wrapping him in an affectionate embrace. Diego began quietly sobbing into Emrys’ shoulder as he apologized in a weak voice, “I’m so sorry for saying those hurtful things to you. I didn’t mean to I was just so upset that we didn’t hang out this summer. But when I heard you’d left the apartment I asked Varryn to go home while I waited for you to come back. I didn’t know where you went so I waited a little longer until I heard the police sirens. I was terrified something happened to you, so I went outside trying find you. And now I know you’re okay. Now you’re here and you’re okay that’s all that matters.” Diego tightened his embrace placing his head on Emrys’ chest slowing down his intense breathing comfortable in Emrys’ arms. Emrys was delighted Diego cared about him so much.

He hadn’t seen Diego ever become so emotional about his safety. Once they pulled apart there was a moment of mutual desire as they gazed longing into each other’s eyes. Emrys knew this was his opportunity to confess everything he’s been repressing all summer the reason he’d avoided Diego. Emrys desperately wanted to kiss Diego passionately to reassure him that everything was okay, but he couldn’t that feeling of dread associated with losing Diego was too strong for him to surrender to this moment. To shift the mood he said “ I’m so glad you care about me that much. I don’t know what I did to deserve a best friend like you.” Diego eyes darted toward the ground for a split second slightly disappointed by Emrys’ response, but gave him a reassuring smile to avoid confronting Emrys about his feelings. He helped Emrys carry the groceries back to their apartment before heading to their respective rooms and going to bed. Emrys’ body naturally woke up to start his morning routine. 

Emrys usually wakes up before Diego, so he always makes breakfast for the pair of them before heading to his first class. Remembering Diego’s imminent hangover he concocted Raj’s special remedy to help his friend start a productive day. Emrys grabbed a few healthy snacks from his pantry and packed them in his book bag. Emrys’ class didn’t begin for another couple hours, so he enjoyed his breakfast while simultaneously reviewing the material he took notes on the previous day. Emrys cross referenced his personal notes with text from the book to fully grasp the concept his professor was lecturing about. He further researched topics on his laptop to gather any additional information about the subject. Emrys then began highlighting key topics with yellow marker and topics he found difficulty understanding in orange marker. Any topic highlighted in orange he’d create flashcards for once his professor elaborated further in the class discussion. It was a half hour before class began and Diego was still fast asleep, so Emrys decided to creep into his room and wake him up. 

Diego groggily awoke from his slumber feeling nauseous and unmotivated to get up. Emrys handed Raj’s remedy to Diego to help wane the effects of his hangover before his class. Diego began scarfing down his breakfast complimenting Emrys’ cooking with every bite as his friend continued focusing solely on his studying paying little attention to Diego’s comments. Emrys hugged Diego on his way out the door to his first class. Emrys finished his classes and headed to the library to meet up with his study group. Michelle glammed in a full face of makeup had been gathering books essential to the assignments and exams for the course. Grace had begun organizing which texts to prioritize if the study group couldn’t cover all the material that day. Aleister was typing review notes for the group to highlight the most pertinent information to the subject. Lastly, Emrys was editing typos on the same document as Aleister as he rapidly continued to transcribe the information from the textbooks to the computer. 

Once a document was typed Michelle would gather the printed papers and hand it to each individual member. The process continued until the group had a packet of review material they’d staple and begin openly discussing with each other. Emrys provided everyone with the snacks he had in his book bag to keep the team focused. Aleister would openly ask each member to answer questions he devised with the information to reinforce their memory of the subject. Grace would return books once the group finished discussing that particular topic. After the group had mentally exhausted their brains for a few hours they headed home.  Aleister placed an arm around Grace as the couple headed out. Michelle invited Emrys to join her at the coffee shop where she was meeting her online date Quinn. Emrys accepted and the two headed to the coffee shop to be greeted by the charming redhead dressed in a cute ensemble and braided fiery hair. 

Michelle placed a kiss on Quinn’s cheek as she introduced Emrys to her. Quinn subtly ogled Emrys without Michelle noticing, but Emrys definitely caught Quinn gaze at him with flirtatious intent. Quinn led Michelle and Emrys to their table. Michelle excused herself to the restroom to fix her makeup leaving Quinn and Emrys alone. Quinn then spoke “How do you know Michelle, Emrys? You two would make a cute couple,” Emrys responded flustered, “Well we’ve had the same classes together for the past few years. And we also have a study group with two other friends, but I’d say me and Michelle are exclusively friends.” Quinn questioned further “Are you not interested in girls, Emrys?” Emrys replied,“No it’s not that I’m bisexual actually, but I consider Michelle like a second sister I wouldn’t feel comfortable dating her.” Quinn intrigued reaches her hand onto Emrys’ lap, “Would you be interested in ditching this place and heading to my dorm to have some fun.” Emrys was so confused by the situation he didn’t know how to react. “But I thought you were here on a date with Michelle,” Emrys whispered.

“I was. She is a nice girl after all motivated, ambitious, and drop dead gorgeous might I add, but she hasn’t once hooked up with me in the two months we’ve been together,” Quinn muttered. “I don’t know what’s she’s waiting for it’s not like I can get her pregnant or anything. I’ve tested myself for STIs and I showed her my results were negative. And I haven’t had sex since or cheated on her. But every time I try to get intimate she backs out. Like, am I her first girlfriend? Is she scared she can’t satisfy me like her past boyfriends? I just don’t know what to do Emrys,” Quinn pleadingly admitted as she continued to stroke Emrys’ crotch forming an erection in his pants. Emrys couldn’t allow Quinn to seduce him he was loyal to Michelle, and would never do anything to hurt her. Emrys gently removed Quinn’s hand and said, “I’m sorry I can’t betray my friend like this. Just tell her how your feeling. Michelle is an understanding person just tell her, and I won’t speak any word of this.” Quinn thought about it for a moment before realizing Emrys was right. “Thanks for convincing me to talk to Michelle I figured she was too busy with studying to become a neurosurgeon that those conversations wouldn’t be well received,” Quinn said appreciatively. “But if me and Michelle don’t work out I wouldn’t mind vibing with you. It seems like your packing in those slacks. I’ll call you when I’m available.” 

Quinn places her number in Emrys’ hand as she immediately strides to the women’s bathroom swaying her hips with every step. Emrys now alone shoots a quick text to Michelle excusing himself from the coffee date with made up emergency. Once she replied that it was okay Emrys quickly gathered his things and headed home. Emrys returned home to find Diego on the couch napping while an episode of Stranger Things was playing on the television. Amidst the snacks on the coffee table Emrys noticed study materials and textbooks scattered about. He was happy Diego was taking his education seriously and smiled proudly at him as he continued to snore. Emrys began cleaning up the mess and organizing Diego’s textbooks and notes. Emrys turned off the television before carrying Diego to his room and tucking him in. Emrys stared at how peaceful Diego slept and headed to his own room to get some assignments done along with additional studying. When Emrys undressed himself he realized his erection was still pulsing, so he strolled into the bathroom to relieve himself before finishing up for the day.

Click for more: Chapter 1 / Chapter 2

[parkerjasmine1996]

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We can help with both Personal and Commercial Insurance

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Need an insurance quote? Get in touch!

Need an insurance quote? Get in touch! After your first car, life insurance might be all you need to save money, no matter the situation. But you don’t know which policy is right for what ends. After you hit the roads, there’s a good chance that you’ll be at least partially insured. Not everyone pays more for car insurance, so getting coverage for an old car may feel like an obligation. This is especially true if you’re in a no-win situation, such as if you have . Uninsured drivers who cause an accident or cause damage beyond the policy limits will still be considered to be at-fault drivers. If you can’t pay your of $2,000 per accident, but you’re totally dependent on your daughter’s car, then you may be able to add collision and comprehensive coverage to help keep you above the federal poverty level, the amount that you’re currently paying.

Blair Jones Company has had great success using Ellis Insurance Agency. We have multiple companies that need spontaneous certifications and instant demands. Ellis Insurance has met our expectations year after year and we look forward to many more.

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Recap: Cheapest car insurance in San Antonio

Recap: Cheapest car insurance in San Antonio How San Antonio ranks: #2 in the ACC in auto insurance claims for auto accident claims per 10,000 Auto insurance ratings validate that most drivers can still find cheap auto insurance in San Antonio. The shows that average auto insurance rates in San Antonio is $130 cheaper to insure than in Chicago in 2019. In fact, in San Antonio, an auto insurance policy that is less expensive premium is even cheaper—if the cost of premiums aren’t as costly. How San Antonio ranks: #46 in the MD car insurance rate table for 2019 MDAR analyzed accident records for multiple lines of drivers in San Antonio. Specifically, each driver was tested for the following conditions: Poor credit. Taking care not to overpay for car insurance. Not filing claims. Getting behind the wheel in the middle of the night. Having a DUI on your record. Being a small-town or small-town driver. Being.

Auto insurance alternatives in San Antonio

Auto insurance alternatives in San Antonio are as follows: PGO: $130 per year per person. PT: $180 per year. HD: $180 per year. UAP: $180 per year. In San Antonio, offers the cheapest car insurance rates and some of the most comprehensive coverage options available, at an average of $158 per year. With the attendant minimum coverage, Texas requires uninsured motorist protection (UM coverage), which extends to $25,000 worth of medical bills for each driver if they’re injured by a driver with no insurance or a low income. » MORE: Low-income car insurance in San Antonio San Antonio drivers with a recent DUI on their record may be able to get lower car insurance premiums. From looking at the rate changes we see, the San Antonio area gets slightly more expensive than average. Methodology For our “good driver” profile, NerdWallet averaged rates from the largest.

[livinginlandmarketing]

In late January, Sana Jaffery, a 19-year-old public policy student at UC Riverside, signed a lease to rent a private, off-campus apartment for the 2020-21 school year.

Jaffery was careful to reserve a room well before the September start of fall quarter.

UC Riverside student Sana Jaffery, seen outside her home in San Jose on Tuesday, Oct. 27, 2020, is among hundreds of UCR students who found themselves locked into private off-campus apartment leases they no longer needed after classes moved online because of the coronavirus pandemic. (Photo by Anda Chu, Bay Area News Group)

“There’s a housing shortage everywhere,” she said. “So they tell us, ‘You need to get your housing locked and loaded so that you have a place to live.’”

Then the world flipped upside down.

The novel coronavirus struck. And, on March 13, Riverside County closed all schools, including universities.

Seven months later, the vast majority of UCR classes — 97% — are being taught online. It may be many more months before students return to the classroom.

Because of the pandemic, Jaffery no longer needs an apartment for classes she takes online from a laptop in her San Jose home. But when she tried to get out of her lease, Jaffery said she ran into a wall of resistance.

Hundreds of other UCR students have, too — and continue to.

It’s a problem occurring across California and elsewhere in the Inland Empire, though the biggest impact in the region appears to be at UCR.

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Leticia Gutierrez-Lopez, associate vice president of student health and wellbeing at Cal Poly Pomona, said about 50 Cal Poly students are in leases for off-campus private housing from which they have been unable to get out.

Cal State San Bernardino spokesman Joe Gutierrez said his university’s housing director wasn’t aware of similar problems there.

At the private La Sierra University in Riverside, spokeswoman Darla Martin Tucker said officials received a few reports about students renting private off-campus housing who “found it difficult or impossible to break their leases.”

Jaffery said some housing providers appear focused on the fact that students entered into rental contracts.

“Yes, we signed a contract,” she said.

But Jaffery said students could not have known a deadly disease would sweep the globe. She managed to get out of her 12-month lease the last week of July.

Since then, she has assisted 200 other UCR students locked in leases. Jaffery launched an online petition and a website — breakingucrent.com — to call attention to the issue.

Jaffery said students generally lease rooms in four main off-campus complexes: University Village Towers, The Palms on University, GrandMarc and Highlander at North Campus.

Apartments say they still have bills to pay

Operators of two of these complexes responded to requests for comment; two did not.

Keith Thompson, vice president of property operations for The Scion Group in Chicago, which manages The Palms on University, said his company is sensitive to students’ situation.

“In fact, as soon as we learned last summer that UCR would be primarily online this Fall, we invited any of our future residents whose plans had changed to contact us, so we could attempt to replace them and potentially release them from any obligation,” Thompson said via email.

Thompson wrote that The Palms, which primarily serves UCR students but is not exclusively reserved for them, isn’t “in a position to simply allow open cancellation” as it still must pay its mortgage, property taxes, payroll and utility bills.

He said the “vast majority” of student residents moved in and are studying online “from the relative comfort and safety of their homes in our community.”

Besides Jaffery’s efforts, Riverside Legal Aid and the Fair Housing Council of Riverside County have teamed up to try to solve problems for more than 60 students.

Legal Aid attorney Ernie Reguly said those students have complained about GrandMarc and University Village Towers and only a few have gotten out of leases.

Nathan Cieszynski, the council’s program manager, said, “It would be nice if we could get the property owners to come to the table to work with the students to find an equitable solution. But they really don’t seem to want to have those conversations.”

Students stuck in unpredictable situation

Cindy Finley, the community manager at University Village Towers, acknowledged “the unprecedented circumstances facing the student community” in an email. And she said her complex is exploring ways to “offer flexibility to our residents.”

“We are committed to working with each of our residents on an individual basis,” Finley wrote.

A person answering the phone at GrandMarc referred an inquiry to the corporate office of HH Red Stone Properties in Maryland, where an employee said the inquiry would need to be addressed to Kelley Brine, executive vice president. Multiple attempts to reach Brine were unsuccessful.

Highlander at North Campus did not respond to a request for comment.

In a statement, Joshua Howard, a spokesman for the Sacramento-based California Apartment Association, called the situation “an unfortunate consequence of the pandemic.”

The plight of students in private housing stands in contrast to the experience of those who reserved rooms in university-owned campus housing. UCR spokesman John Warren said the university refunded campus housing fees and canceled leases upon request.

“UCR does not have any legal leverage over matters involving non-university housing,” Warren said in an email.

But he said officials are trying to work with apartment complex owners and are “hopeful of a positive outcome.”

Problem adds to students’ stress

As for students with whom Jaffery has worked, she said some moved into apartments, figuring if they are going to pay they might as well live in the place they are paying for. Others elected to stay home, including Tammy Wang, 19, a second-year biology student who lives in the San Francisco Bay Area city of Los Gatos.

“I can’t afford $840 a month when I’m not even staying there,” Wang said by phone recently. “I never even picked up my key.”

Wang thought she had found someone to take over her University Village Towers lease. But she said the person “scammed” her out of incentive money she put up and didn’t take the apartment.

“I just really want out of the lease because that’s a lot of money down the drain,” she said. “I have been trying to find a replacement for so long, I don’t know what to do anymore.”

Reguly, the attorney, said housing companies are “abusing” students.

“These kids are stressed,” he said. “They are already dealing with a nonstandard school year.”

Howard, of the California Apartment Association, said operators of rental properties are facing financial challenges, too.

“As the pandemic lingers and vacancies rise, it’s becoming increasingly difficult – especially for mom-and-pop landlords – to pay their mortgages, payroll, property taxes, repair bills and other expenses,” Howard wrote.

The association urges members to “be flexible and try to come up with solutions,” Howard said, adding that the federal government should provide rent relief for student tenants and property owners.

Nicole Ryan, spokeswoman for the National Apartment Association in Arlington, Virginia, which has 85,000 members representing more than 10 million apartment homes nationwide, said the pandemic has been hard on the rental industry.

Ryan said by phone that vacancy rates are expected to peak in the fourth quarter at 7.2%, a more-than-3-percentage point increase from the fourth quarter of 2019. She said rent amounts are projected to slide down 8.1% during 2020.

‘Doubling up’ in rooms could end

Besides paying for unneeded housing, there is the concern about exposure to the virus.

Riverside City Councilman Andy Melendrez is working to help UC Riverside students stuck in apartment leases. (Photo courtesy of Andy Melendrez)

Riverside City Councilman Andy Melendrez said the larger housing complexes typically assign four students to four separate single-occupancy rooms that share a common living room and kitchen area.

But, because of a student housing shortage, Melendrez said city ordinance lets up to 15% of those single-occupancy rooms be assigned to two people, which he said is unsafe.

Melendrez said he plans to ask the Riverside City Council to temporarily suspend the “doubling up” policy.

Related links

Online petition protests lease policy for student housing

‘Zoom University’ students stuck with unwanted leases

UC Riverside weighs axing sports to balance coronavirus-battered budget

No relief for UCD students locked into apartment leases

UC Riverside unveils on-campus coronavirus testing lab

As for what students should do about their leases, there are differing opinions.

Scott Talkov, landlord/tenant attorney for the Associated Students of UCR’s legal clinic, said he counsels students to ask for lease termination on grounds the pandemic is an extraordinary emergency, and to be willing to withhold rent if they encounter resistance.

“It’s a game of chicken and the students need to learn how to play the game,” he said.

Talkov said he recently reviewed 122 cases involving apartment owners who rent to UCR students and found no evidence they have sued students over breach of contract. He said the risk involved in withholding rent is small.

But Cieszynski, the housing council manager, said owners don’t have to sue to send someone to collection, which would potentially ruin one’s credit for years.

“I will never, never advocate just walking away,” he said.

-on November 06, 2020 at 08:11AM by David Downey

[shirlleycoyle]

The Vigilante Hunting Down Cheaters in Video Games

In May, some players in the popular competitive shooter Valorant seemed to have super powers. Every time they fired their guns, they hit their opponents right in the head, killing them quickly. They practically couldn't miss.   

In some way, these players did have superpowers: they were using one of the most advanced cheats for Valorant, the five-on-five tactical first-person shooter made by Riot Games. The cheat was essentially a program that hacked the video game and subverted its rules by exploiting flaws in the game’s code. While Riot continues to fight cheaters across its games, that particular cheat is no longer available thanks to a vigilante who works around the clock to catch cheaters and their tools, reporting them to companies like Riot or Blizzard, the makers of Overwatch, another popular online shooter. He's not employed by any game developer, nor does he get paid for his work, but he does devote a great deal of his time and energy to stopping cheaters, and when he finds something, game developers listen. 

His name is Mohamed Al-Sharifi but he’s best known as GamerDoc. This 24-year-old from London is becoming an important player in the seemingly never-ending and ever-escalating cat-and-mouse game between gaming companies against hackers and cheat developers. All online games today employ advanced anti-cheat systems that monitor gamers’ computers to see if they’re running any cheats. For Valorant, Riot Games developed the Vanguard system, which runs at the kernel level. This is an integral part of the operating system that manages almost every single thing a system does. It should be one of the most highly secure parts of any computer system, and which could completely compromise a user if accessed by a hacker. Riot has drawn criticism for Vanguard for this reason, with security experts saying it's too intrusive. But even a game with an advanced system like Vanguard has cheaters. The company banned more than 8,000 of them when the game was still in beta. 

“No game is unhackable. No cheat is undetectable,” GamerDoc said in a phone interview. “It's just a matter of how and where.”

How and where depends on circumstances, but GamerDoc is often involved.

“I just hate cheaters in general. I think it's selfish to have all the fun for yourself.”

“We're always happy to receive information from people, especially if they have insight into cheating communities,” Paul Chamberlain, the anti-cheat lead for Riot’s Valorant, said in an emailed statement. “The information people like GamerDoc provides helps us accelerate our anti-cheat development and ultimately gets cheaters out of the game faster.” 

Three sources at a gaming company who are involved in anti-cheat efforts, and who asked to remain anonymous because they were not authorized to speak to the press, said that GamerDoc has been very effective at hunting cheats and cheaters, leading to the cheats getting patched and the cheaters banned. 

“His tips have helped us react faster to some cheats, which can easily send [the cheat developers] out of business,” said one of the employees. 

Another one said GamerDoc has been “super helpful in finding cheats and reporting them to us.”

Blizzard did not respond to a request for comment. 

“For the anti-cheat developers he's their volunteer scouter,” said a cheat developer who goes by the moniker sadko2. “He's built a community and added an extra layer of reporting. Players manually reporting somebody with proof of concept is kinda spoon-feeding the anti-cheat developers and real reverse engineers. So to conclude, he can do nothing by himself, all alone, but his strong community and manual reporting feature is definitely a big threat to cheat developers.”

GamerDoc admitted that he’s “made many enemies doing this.”  At one point, GamerDoc said a group of them launched a now-deleted GoFundMe to raise money to hire an assassin to take him out. Another time, someone tried to get his old boss to reveal his home address. He said he also regularly receives death threats. And while he admitted that this kind of stuff affects him mentally, it won’t stop him from doing what he’s passionate about.

The logo of GamerDoc’s volunteer collective of cheater hunters. (Image: Mohamed “GamerDoc” Al-Sharifi)

GamerDoc started hunting cheat developers and users in 2018, when he created a Discord server called The O.W. Police Department to expose players in Overwatch who were "win trading." In this scheme, groups of players allow each other to win matches in order to artificially increase their ranking. The attention he got for this led to more players reporting cheaters.

“I started to look into these things, I started to ask for proof, I started to ask for video clips, and it just kept piling up,” GamerDoc said. “[I thought] this is like a huge disaster, there's too many people cheating in this game.”

His success there motivated him to do this regularly and go after not just individual cheaters, but the whole ecosystem. Cheating in games is a huge business that moves millions of dollars, as an investigation in PC Gamer revealed in 2014. Players who use cheats often get them from resellers who promote them on customer-facing websites. These sellers have direct relationships with cheat developers who reverse engineer game engines and develop what essentially are exploits which are worth thousands of dollars. This is the goliath GamerDoc is going up against. 

“I’ve just been trying to find ways to break cheats and destroy cheating businesses and get justice for players,” GamerDoc said. 

His motivations are simple: he thinks games are being “ruined” by cheaters, by “copy paste hackers who just try to earn a few quick bucks.”

“I just hate cheaters in general. I think it's selfish to have all the fun for yourself. People have a job they come home to enjoy a nice day of gaming, and for that to be ruined because of some kid who used his moms credit card to buy cheats just sucks,” GamerDoc said. “Not only that, there are people who even try to compete at a pro level with cheats ruining the competitive integrity for many who practice countless hours to be the best.”

Do you reverse engineer and develop cheats for games? Or do you work on anti-cheat engines? We’d love to hear from you. Using a non-work phone or computer, you can contact Lorenzo Franceschi-Bicchierai securely on Signal at +1 917 257 1382, lorenzofb on Wickr, OTR chat at lorenzofb@jabber.ccc.de, or email lorenzofb@vice.com.

GamerDoc now runs two Discord servers, The O.W. Police Department and The Valorant Police Department, which have almost 3,000 and over 2,000 members respectively. In these channels, volunteer vigilantes post reports of alleged cheaters, sharing their in-game IDs, the date and time they were seen cheating, the region where they play in, and any evidence to support the claim, such as videos of the cheater. GamerDoc and other admins on the servers comb through the reports, review them, and send the ones that they deem accurate to Riot Games and Blizzard.  

Especially since he was laid off at his day job due to the economic crisis triggered by COVID-19, GamerDoc said hunting cheaters has practically become a full time job for him. GameDoc declined to say whether he makes any money via bug bounty programs. 

“I have somewhat of a reputation to maintain that I'm not sending false reports over, because it would suck for the player, and it would suck for everyone else, and I would lose credibility from the company.” GamerDoc said. “I don't want to waste their time.”

GamerDoc’s super power seems to be, put bluntly, that he gives a shit about stopping cheaters. 

In order to find cheats and cheaters, GamerDoc also lurks on cheaters' forums and Discord channels, “gathering intelligence,” as he put it. Sometimes, that means socially engineering the cheat developers or sellers into providing him the cheat so he can pass the cheating app on to the anti-cheat teams at Riot Games, Blizzard, and other game studios. Other times, GamerDoc said that cheat developers get in touch with him to expose other cheats made by competitors in what is a big business where the best cheats can go for hundreds or even thousands of dollars. 

“Cheating is pretty much like drugs. And there's like a whole hierarchy as well with these cheating businesses where you have the developer, you have the assistant developer, you have the sales manager, then you have the under sales manager, and then you have the resellers,” GamerDoc said. “Everyone does their part and makes money.”

GamerDoc doesn’t just disrupt cheaters by ratting them out to video game companies, he also names and shames them publicly on his Anti-Cheat Police Department Twitter account. Sometimes, GamerDoc publishes their names or gamer IDs so that other gamers can report them or stay away from them.

Since he started in 2018, he estimates that he has gotten between 50,000 and 70,000 cheaters banned across Overwatch and Valorant, counting both reports sent to his Discord channels, as well as ban waves triggered by him reporting popular cheats to the companies. Two sources who work at a gaming company said those numbers are feasible. But it’s also important to remember that after GamerDoc alerts the companies, the developers do their part of the job and look into the reports and determine whether they are accurate, which is crucial work. 

“It's not always easy as a single person to fight versus what looks like a goliath but GamerDoc has people on his side, believing in his cause, and maybe one day big corporations will see that as well and put a better anti-cheat in their software,” said one of GamerDoc’s collaborators, who goes by the name of Hina.

For the future, GamerDoc said he is planning to launch a public website where gamers can send in reports for moderators to review them, send them to the gaming companies, and then publish a list of known cheaters. 

As gamers who play popular online games like Call of Duty: Warzone complain about pervasive cheating, game studios are ramping up their efforts, designing better, more sophisticated anti-cheat systems. But they also employ some of the same techniques GamerDoc uses, monitoring and cultivating informants within the cheating community, according to two sources who work at a gaming company. 

A meme made by GamerDoc to taunt cheaters. (Image: Mohamed “GamerDoc” Al-Sharifi)

In the case of the Valorant cheat, GamerDoc obtained the cheat and passed it on to Riot, which patched it and rendered the cheat useless. That particular cheat was made by a developer who calls himself Bukky. Bukky said he used to sell a subscription to the cheat—providing continuous support—for 15 euros a day, 70 euros a week, 150 euros a month, or 500 for life (around $17, $82, $177, and $590 respectively). Bukky said he had almost 10,000 users who purchased the subscription through his website Applecheats.cc. 

Just like his cheat, Bukky’s website is now down. But Bukky denied ever getting caught by GamerDoc, and dismissed his work. 

“He’s just an asshole that sends cheats loaders to Riot,” Bukky said in an online chat. “He’s nothing special.” 

Sources involved in anti-cheat efforts, however, confirmed GamerDoc’s account of the story, suggesting Bukky is just trying to diminish GamerDoc’s accomplishments. 

“Acquiring a key for the cheat, or a copy of the cheat or a memory dump of the game while the cheat is running are all things that GamerDoc has provided that have helped us detect a new cheat faster,” said an employee of a gaming company. 

“I'm always happy when I'm banning a cheater or getting their stuff detected,” GamerDoc said.

Subscribe to our cybersecurity podcast, CYBER.

The Vigilante Hunting Down Cheaters in Video Games syndicated from https://triviaqaweb.wordpress.com/feed/

[andavs]

Okay I know we’re all very against Derek and Stiles ever breaking up, but hear me out: The Philadelphia Story AU, because there’s nothing I love more than assholes who realize they actually really love being assholes to each other, and find everyone else who can’t keep up with the assholeishness very boring.

And frankly, the lack of Sterek fic based on old screwball comedies is a tragic crime against humanity. I’m filing an official complaint.

So.

The Hales are the obscenely wealthy family of socialites, and Derek is known publicly as the trouble child in the family after his explosive divorce from Stiles Stilinski, the scrappy son of the well-liked sheriff, known to be something of a smart-mouthed asshole. Pretty much all of the time. He’s prickly, most try to avoid him.

They had a fiery romance full of snarking and barbs that cut far too deep, got married on a whim (to many raised eyebrows among the wealthy elites in town) and fought constantly until the day they divorced and parted for good. In the end, Stiles didn’t even want to settle anything through a lawyer, he just took his clothes, signed the papers with a not-so-passive aggressive flourish, and left in a huff.

In the two years since, Derek has been working hard to fix his reputation for the sake of his family, who all got dragged into his fairly public drama. He’s got a nice job at the family company, he’s engaged to a nice woman named Jennifer, he’s got a nice car instead of the Camaro Stiles convinced him to buy so they could have sex in the back seat, and his life is just nice.

And he’s happy, as long as he doesn’t think about it too deeply, because when that happens, he realizes he’s bored. But then Jennifer comes home and smiles at him, and he’s just happy and calm.

They work well together for a number of reasons; he hates putting in time at the social clubs, Jennifer loves it and she’s good at it, and she knows he hates it so she handles it for him as much as possible. She loves remodeling, he likes to build things and spend time in his woodshop, finding ways to make her grand ideas come together--they’re a fun challenge. He likes quiet nights in, she’s a book critic and has no trouble spending hours in silence as she takes notes on her latest review.

It’s infinitely more peaceful than his previous marriage, in which Stiles went to social clubs solely to mock them and take subtle digs at other members, fidgeted and made noise when Derek was trying to read until he eventually dragged him out to a bar, and complained about all the sawdust and constant renovations throughout the house and why are there no stairs today, Derek, I need to get to work.

But best of all: Jennifer is handling all of the wedding planning, dealing with his family, friends, all of the social and decorating aspects. All Derek has to do is show up and say I do.

(So, again, the exact opposite of his last wedding: eloping at the courthouse then both of them getting blackout drunk at a bar, and Stiles waking up with an untreated broken foot that needed surgery to correct.)

Which is a very good thing because this time around, his wedding is under the most intense scrutiny he’s ever experienced, which as a Hale, is saying something. And despite a lifetime of experience, he doesn’t do well under scrutiny. Luckily, Jennifer does, and she’s handling it like a pro. Everyone wants an invitation since they missed all the good drama the first time around, and the social club straight up begged to let them host it. So of course, all of the gossip blogs want in.

The only problem: the Hales are notoriously hard to get to, for any member of any press of any kind. They’re closed off, close knit, and close to being essentially royalty.

Meanwhile on the other side of town, Stiles has picked his life up after his whirlwind divorce and become a deputy, working harder than he ever has in his life, and it’s definitely not to fill the sudden, silent void that came with Derek’s departure. His job is his life, he realizes on quiet nights when he’s home alone, but he tries to keep those few and far between.

He’s got his job, his friends, his dad, he takes a pottery class for some reason even he doesn’t know and he’s awful at it, but he’s fine. It’s fine. He’s got plenty going for him in life, he doesn’t need a pretty fiancee on his arm to make the socialite rounds, and he definitely doesn’t keep any kind of tabs on Derek whatsoever.

Enter Matt Daehler, founder of the highly successful and popular gossiprag.com, who has a slimier than usual approach to getting the exclusive scoop: straight up blackmail.

He’s got dirt on, I don’t know, Laura, who Stiles is still known to hang out with occasionally. He knows Laura would rather go down than hurt her brother, so he takes it to Stiles, because he also knows that Stiles is an asshole, but a very loyal asshole. Once you’re in Stiles’ circle, you’re there for life.

So he tells Stiles that it’s his job to get a writer and photographer into that wedding, to which Stiles responds, “go fuck yourself, I’m not going anywhere near Derek Hale.”

Daehler smirks and shows him what he’s got against Laura, and Stiles raises his eyebrows, because it’s ballsy trying to blackmail a cop, but agrees, because Laura gets dragged through the gossip rags over his dead body. And if he keeps it off official record, no one can pin it on him when he gets revenge on the creep.

(And if he also does it to get a chance to see Derek one last time before he gets married, then no one has to know.)

The time comes and Stiles appears at the Hales’ front door, with two extra guests he insists are very close friends: Scott, the writer just trying to pay the bills until he can get his book published, and Allison, the photographer trying to make it on her own after cutting herself off from her wealthy but all around shady family. Neither of them want to be there, they both feel slimy, they really just want to go on a date, and feel awful about the deception.

Attempted deception.

Derek doesn’t buy it for a second. 

He knows how Stiles treats his friends, and it’s not like that; not curt and polite, like he’s holding back his sharper comments even if it hurts. So Derek doesn’t give an inch to either of them, and the anger that Stiles would do this to his family brings out his old darker side. Suddenly Derek’s carefully crafted nice persona cracks and he’s back to trading spiky jabs with Stiles, out for blood with every word. Jennifer’s surprised by it, honestly, because as much as she’d heard about the wild child Derek Hale, by the time she met him, he was anything but.

(And she would be alarmed to find out that these jabs aren’t anywhere near as bad as they were before, that they’ve both mellowed out a little; Derek learning to compromise to keep the peace and Stiles learning not to jump straight into arguments as a negotiation tactic.)

And it’s not just some of the time, in private or at meals, because Stiles is everywhere, hanging around with a smirk on his face like he’s laughing at all of them, and Derek’s the only one in on the joke who knows how to shut it down. They’re constantly facing off, riling each other up and tearing each other down, while still somehow making everyone around them feel very small and insignificant and like seven third wheels.

Derek’s family is thrilled in a conflicted way that Stiles is back, as much of a disaster as their former marriage was, because Derek is back. He’s been great the last two years, carefully managing his life, making all the right decisions, but he isn’t really Derek. He packed up everything that made him him and shoved it into storage like he could hide away those parts of his personality with his old belongings.

And it turns out that it really was all in storage, as Stiles discovers one drunken night, after the cocktail party that’s kicking off the entire wedding weekend, when he stumbles to Derek’s front door for old time’s sake and a little bit out of an old habit. The house is pretty much all Jennifer by this point, so they wander out to Derek’s workshop, his own private space of sawdust gathered in corners and neatly organized tools, and everything Stiles left behind packed away carefully like he would be back any day for them.

All the stuff Stiles has been stubbornly saving up to replace because he was too spiteful to just go back and ask for his own things, and Derek knew how much they mattered and kept them, even if he was also too petty to call and offer to drop them off.

Stiles tells him he’s made seven different versions of this one particular vase Derek once saw at a thrift store and didn’t buy that’s been haunting him ever since, but none of them have come out right. He’s on his ninth attempt, the eighth is in line for the kiln, and he’s already planning number ten.

Derek tells him that he's been buying every issue of Stiles’ favorite comic series because he didn’t have the heart to cancel the subscription, and Stiles just about cries right there because he’s been way too busy to get to the comic book store to get them, and now he’s missed too many issues and can’t afford to buy all the collections because he still hasn’t actually replaced his bed.

(Spoiler alert: he’s never going to replace his bed, because he’s going to be in Derek’s all the them, and then it will becomes theirs again.)

There’s emotions, and Stiles tells him about the whole blackmail plot, as if Derek didn’t already know Scott and Allison were reporters, and it turns out that Scott as Dirt on Daehler. 

Like, career-ruining Dirt. For reasons.

So Stiles and Scott gather their dirt, take it to Daehler, and get him to back down, helped significantly by threatening him with charges of attempted blackmail, towards a cop, no less.

(Seriously, Stiles has so much over this guy’s head he could personally dictate what he wanted published and Daehler would have to do it.)

And then Derek and Stiles’ sharp glares take on more of a heated tone and everyone is very uncomfortable around them.

In the end, Jennifer breaks it off. She has to, it’s like she doesn’t even know this sharp and acerbic Derek, and she can’t deny that there’s suddenly fire in his eyes with Stiles back in his life. She couldn’t live a happy life knowing her husband loves another, and she also can’t live happily knowing that she’s holding Derek back from happiness himself.

So the big wedding of the decade is called off, and I can’t decide if I want Derek and Stiles to step in at the last minute since everything is already arranged and they didn’t really do it right the first time, or if they just run off on a long vacation to escape the gossip and have a lot of makeup sex and argue over how to cook the eggs in the morning.

Both are good, I think.

(The Camaro was also in storage and they have makeup sex in it. Nowhere is safe.)

[nickgerlich]

Salad Daze

Once upon a time, businesses succeeded and failed because of their product and service offering, and basic word-of-mouth that typically happened at the water cooler or over the backyard fence. It would take a long time, though, for the effects to be felt, either positive or negative.

Today, though, social media works much more quickly. Review sites like TripAdvisor, Yelp, Rotten Tomatoes, and others allow consumers to become “professional” critics of everything from restaurants to motels and movies. Glowing reviews can simmer for a long time, and ultimately bring success.

But bad reviews can suffocate a business in a heartbeat.

Take, for example, the current controversy over Amarillo’s 7 Bar & Grill, in which someone reported finding...ugh...a dead mouse (or something) in their salad. (Warning: The image in the linked story is rather repulsive.) This has left restaurant management with the unenviable task of having to respond to a rather strong accusation.

The accuser posted her photo on social media, and, naturally, it went viral, at least locally. Amarillo media are now covering the story, putting restaurant management even more under the microscope of public scrutiny.

No matter how many denials are made, no matter how many assurances of food safety are offered, it may matter not: This woman’s accusation may be the box of nails and hammer that forever seal this business into the grave of obscurity.

And therein lays the danger (and sometimes blessing) of social media reviews. Good reviews can help; bad reviews can kill. Even if accusations are later proven to be untrue, the damage can be difficult to undo.

If the woman is proven wrong, and inadvertently winds up inflicting significant damage to the restaurant’s sales and profits, lawsuits could be in the future, just like the Dallas photographer who took a raging wedding couple to court, and was awarded $1.08 million in damages. Similar business repercussions have been felt by companies sticking to their moral guns by refusing to service to people of different religions or sexual orientations.

Which is all another way of saying that, whether you are right or wrong, someone...anyone...can send your business to an untimely end. Even if you prevail in the end, the damage can be swift and irreversible. Just read Newschannel10′s Facebook feed for reader comments and how many vow never to return to this restaurant.

Could the restaurant have responded better than they did? Some have said the manager acted professionally by calling in local health inspectors. But I remember the Tylenol poisonings in Chicago in 1982, and what Tylenol was the text-book perfect thing: it recalled every last bottle of Tylenol from grocer and pharmacy shelves.

That’s another way of saying the restaurant should have immediately shut down and not served another person until the accusation can be proven, one way or another. How seriously are you taking this accusation? That seriously.

Anything less sends a message of indifference. Platitudes and niceties sound nice and look good in print, but continuing to operate with an implicit “Game On!” sends a very different message.

It’s not my job to pass judgment on what may or may not have been in that salad, or whether the accuser is right or wrong. But I can and will pass judgment when it comes to crisis communication, and seems to me, this is one big crisis.

Dr “Eating Elsewhere“ Gerlich

[catarinaelibeth]

Name Signs

Another soulmate AU idea: the first word your soulmate will speak to you is on your wrist. What happens when Lena is born without a word on her wrist? 

Lena adjusts the watch on her left wrist as she walks down the hallway to her office. As a teenager, she accepted her lack of a soul mark as a constant reminder of the lack of love in her life. She has her company. L-Corp is the love of her life. She’s okay with that. After going off to boarding school, she grew tired of the snarky comments and pitying looks whenever someone saw the unmarked skin on her wrist. She began to grow a collection of watches and bracelets to keep the curiosity at bay. When she was 11, a chemistry experiment led to a burn on her wrist. It was sudden, and she had yelped in pain. The nurse believed the metal of the watch must have become overheated, resulting in the burn on her wrist. The burn is mostly faded.

She sits at her desk and opens her email on her laptop. Her eyes fly over the screen at a remarkable speed, skimming over the blind carbon copied emails that don’t need her direct attention at the moment. Resting her left elbow on the desk, she places her chin on her hand while her right hand continue to scroll. An email from an unfamiliar web address draws her attention.

“CatCo?” Her head comes off of her hand as she stands up straighter in interest. “How did someone from CatCo get my direct email?” She asks her computer.

Curiosity peaked, she opens the email from kdanvers@catco.com .

Good morning, Miss Luthor,

My name is Kara Danvers, and I am a reporter with CatCo Magazine. I read your article by Clark Kent in the Daily Planet, and was interested in reaching out to you about a cover piece with CatCo. This month, we are showcasing the influential women of National City. If you are interested, I would like to write an article on L-Corp and what you are hoping to accomplish with the change in direction of the company.

I spoke with Clark, and he had some very great things to say about L-Corp. With your cross-country move, I believe this article will be the perfect opportunity to share your aspirations with National City.

If you have an interest in pursuing this article, we can further discuss the details, and I will happily answer any questions that you have.

I do hope to hear from you,

Kara Danvers

Lena doesn’t realize that a tiny smile is playing at the corner of her lips by the time she reaches the end of the email. It’s more than obvious to her that this Kara Danvers person is not as accustomed to the level of formality as the business associates Lena usually corresponds with through emails. She remembers the encounter with Clark Kent after the Venture explosion last month. If it weren’t for Superman swooping in to save the day, L-Corp likely would have been under investigation for the faulty oscillator. The CEO is certain the reason for Superman’s visit to National City in the first place was to check on the Luthor that just moved there, but she doesn’t blame him. If their roles were reversed, she may have done the same thing.

Before she can question her decision, Lena types a response to the reporter, Kara Danvers.

Miss Danvers,

Firstly, I appreciate CatCo’s consideration of me for this endeavor. This is, indeed, the type of press L-Corp needs. If you are corresponding personally with Clark Kent, you must be a strong reporter yourself.

I would be honored to have L-Corp highlighted for its future goals.

Best,

Lena Luthor

CEO, L-Corp

She bites her lips, silently debating her words. If Kara Danvers kept her message short and a touch personal, maybe Lena can too. Before she can delete the entire message, she hits send. Releasing the breath she didn’t realize she was holding, she turns her attention to other business.

Barely ten minutes later, a notification appears in the bottom right corner of her screen. Kara Danvers has emailed her back already.

Hello, Miss Luthor

Thank you for your response. I really do think we can make a great team to show everyone what you have in store for L-Corp. Clark Kent is an amazing reporter, but I am nowhere near his caliber. That will not stop me from making this a strong article.

I’m sure your schedule is way more hectic than mine. If it would be easier for you, we can talk through email. I can send you questions and discussion topics. We can meet when we’ve exchanged all of the necessary information to finalize everything. Ideally, the article will be ready for publication in two weeks.

Whatever is best for you will work for me!

Kara Danvers

Lena taps her fingers on her desk as she contemplates her schedule for the next couple of weeks. As someone that has always been resistant toward reporters, Lena surprises herself by wanting to spend time with this reporter. Before she can think further, another email comes from Kara.

Sorry for the double email!

I actually have a list of some discussion topics that way you can have some time to think about them, or gather whatever information you may need. I want to make this as efficient as possible. We don’t have to meet constantly or anything that way, and you can have the time to do all of your CEO responsibilities. I’m sure you are really busy!

Please let me know if there is anything you would like to discuss (or not discuss).

Kara

Smiling at the very casual nature of the email, Lena opens the attached document. A brief moment of fear flashes through her as she thinks about previous questions she has been asked by reporters. A surprisingly long word document appears before her eyes that go slightly wide at the length. Her fears dissipate as she gets halfway through the first page. Kara Danvers seems genuinely interested in the her desire to make L-Corp a force for good. The topics are thought provoking, and some even invoke a spark of renewed passion for new ideas in Lena. She lets out a small burst of laughter when another email from Kara pops onto her screen.

Sorry again!

You must think I’m so unprofessional. The document with my outline for the article wasn’t attached to the last email. Here it is.

Kara

Lena decides it may be best to respond to the woman before the emails continue to come through to her.

Miss Danvers,

Your eagerness is endearing. I find your approach intriguing, and I would not be opposed to further discussing this with you in person.

Would you be available for a meeting for a meeting this week?

Best,

Lena Luthor

She bites her thumb, expecting to receive a response rather soon. She scrolls through the documents Kara sent her while she waits. After 30 minutes, she switches her attention to reports that require her review.

A response from Kara doesn’t come until after she returns from a lunch meeting.

Miss Luthor,

My apologies for the delay in response. I am available tomorrow at any time.

Kara

My afternoon is open tomorrow. If you would like to come to my office at 1:00, we can discuss everything. I will have your name added to the security clearance.

Lena Luthor

That’s perfect. I will see you at 1!

Lena opts to leave the conversation at that.

“Miss Luthor, I have a Miss Danvers here to see you.”

“Send her in, Jess.” Lena doesn’t register the slight hesitation in her assistant’s voice. She smiles professionally from her chair when the door opens. Her breath catches in her throat when the door reveals a beautiful woman, who is not at all what Lena was expecting. She’s breathtaking, and Lena is utterly captivated. Her smile turns more genuine as she watches Kara walk into the office.  “Hello, Miss Danvers.” She’s so enraptured by the gorgeous smile being directed at her that she doesn’t notice another person walking in behind Kara Danvers. She stands to greet the reporter when her eyes finally find the man trailing behind the reporter. “Oh, hello.”

The man steps up beside Kara as they stand across the desk from Lena. “Hi,” the man waves at Lena. “This is Kara Danvers… as you know.” Kara reaches across the desk to shake Lena’s hand with a warm smile.

“It’s nice to meet you, Miss Danvers.” Her smile is a touch guarded.

“And I’m Winn.” He shakes Lena’s hand. Lena’s tries to hide her confusion, but must fail because Kara’s smile turns apologetic. Understanding dawns on Lena when Kara turns to Winn and begins signing to him. Winn turns his own apologetic smile at Lena. “She apparently forgot to mention things to both of us before coming here. I’m a friend of Kara’s. I just tagged along to do some interpreting.”

“Oh. I had no idea.” Her eyes widen slightly.

“Kara was really excited about this interview.” Kara nudges Winn with her elbow, but he brushes her off with a sly grin. “She is usually good about letting people know she will be bringing someone along… when she can’t get all of her information through email.” He yelps when Kara pinches him. “Okay. Okay. Geesh.” He pushes Kara’s hand away before turning back to Lena. “She’s mute, so you can talk directly to her.”

“Oh,” Lena says, feeling a little out of her comfort zone. “Please have a seat.” She gestures to the two chairs across from her.

The three of them sit down, and Kara immediately pulls out a notebook and pen from her bag. After a few minutes of adjusting to having an interpreter, the conversation flows freely. Two hours later, and both women are feeling satisfied with what they have accomplished.

“Well, Miss Danvers, I am looking forward to seeing what you create.”

Kara smiles brightly and signs without breaking eye contact with Lena as Winn speaks. “Anything I write will just be the truth of what you are doing. All of the impressive stuff is coming from you.” Kara bites her lip before signing again. “And please call me Kara.”

“Only if you call me Lena.”

Winn raises an eyebrow at Kara, but she ignores it. She taps him on the arm before signing something she doesn’t want Winn to interpret. He nods before turning to Lena with a smile. “She wants to come up with a name sign for you.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s really inefficient to fingerspell people’s names all the time. If you’re deaf or part of the deaf community, you’re given a name sign. This is mine.” He signs his name sign. Making a “w,” he faces his palm toward his face and moves the tips of his middle finger down the bridge of his nose. He groans before saying, “It’s nerd with a ‘w.’ It’s kind of against the rules to choose your own name, or else I would have something else.”

Lena chuckles. “And what is yours?” She asks Kara.

Kara bites her lip, feeling her cheeks warm. Making a ‘k,” Kara brings her right hand to her heart and makes an x motion with her middle finger. A dazzling smile breaks out on her face when Lena attempts to replicate it. Kara repeats it, and Lena manages to replicate it correctly. Kara gives her a thumbs up before signing again.

Winn interprets for her. “I’ll come up with the perfect name sign for you. Don’t worry. It will be so much better than Winn’s.” He finishes the interpretation with an eye roll.

Lena laughs brightly. “I’m honored.” Kara smiles at her. The three of them stand together. Lena smirks before picking up a pen to write her number on a small piece of paper. She folds it before handing it to Kara. “I do hope this isn’t the last time we see each other.”

Kara takes the paper with a blinding smile. She points to her chest before signing “me too” as she mouths the phrase. Winn sees Lena’s smile of understanding, so he opts to let them have their moment.

Over the next week, the three of them meet every day. Lena begins to pick up a few signs much to Kara’s delight. The CEO even finds Winn to be an amusing addition to the interviews. Outside of their interviews, Lena and Kara exchange texts regularly. The evening after their first interview, Kara text Lena to thank her for the interview. The clear excitement and joy coming through the texts led Lena to continue texting her until she couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore. In her little precious spare time, Lena takes an online course for American Sign Language. She doesn’t want to use it with Kara until she feels confident in her ability to use it correctly. Learning and memorizing the signs is not the difficult part for Lena. The grammar is different from English, and the concept of using verifiers to describe and explain different actions/movements is challenging. Lena has even resorted to corresponding with several Gallaudet professors.

Texting Kara becomes the highlight of her days. One night, Kara surprises her by telling her the story of how she was adopted. She doesn’t give Lena complete details, but she does share that she wasn’t always mute. Her parents were killed in an explosion of some kind, but Kara was far enough away to survive. Unfortunately, the explosion did cause some damage, her mutism. She also divulges to Lena that Clark Kent is actually her cousin. In turn, Lena beings sharing her own stories.

The article is published, and Lena finds herself reading it on her couch with a fond smile. She holds the article to her chest when she finishes, and her smile starts to fade as she realizes this is the end of her meetings with Kara. The fear doesn’t get to set in though. As if sensing Lena’s distress, Kara walks through her office door… alone.

“Kara.” She smiles brightly, watching Kara walk to join her on the couch. “Your article is amazing. You flatter me.” She puts the magazine on the coffee table to give Kara her full attention.

Waving her hand, Kara gives a nonchalant shrug with a shy smile. She points to her chest (I). Her left hand is flat and held in front of her with her palm facing herself, and her right hand mimics writing on the left (WRITE). Kara’s left hand falls, and her right hand comes up with only her pointer finger extended just below her chin. She pushes her finger forward and away from her chin (TRUE). She mouths the words, “I wrote the truth,” as she signs, but the corners of her mouth are slightly upturned.

Lena smiles with a tilt of her head. “You’re an amazing writer. I don’t think anyone could have written L-Corp so eloquently.”

Kara smiles and reaches her left hand out to cover Lena’s right. She signs, “I didn’t just write about L-Corp.” Kara adds a sign Lena doesn’t know at the end of that sentence.

Eyebrows scrunching together in confusion, Lena tries to think of what that sign could mean. Opting to look the unknown sign up later, she plasters a smile onto her face. “Have I told you how amazing you are?” She knows her adoration is very obvious.

Smiling shyly, Kara waves her hand as she mouths, “stop it.”

“I only speak the truth.”

Kara playfully narrows her eyes and purses her lips. “That’s my line,” she signs. Lena smirks. They smile at each other a few moments before Kara takes a deep breath. Lena turns her body more toward Kara, silently encouraging her to speak her mind. Kara pulls out her phone from her pocket to type out a message, and Lena blinks in mild shock. She assumes it must be something long and important, leading Kara to not want to risk a struggle in translation. Kara hands her the phone opened to her notes application.

Please tell me if this is crossing a line… I know we only started talking 2 weeks ago because of the article, but I feel like there’s more than just a professional relationship here. I’ve been thinking of you as more of a friend. I didn’t just come here to see what you think about the article. I wanted to see you. I missed you, and I didn’t want to lose my chance at knowing you more and getting closer to you. I’d love to spend more time with you… if you’ll have me.

Lena looks up from Kara’s phone to see the older woman staring intently at her hands fidgeting together in her lap. She watches Kara for a moment before slowly handing the phone back to Kara, who refuses to meet her eyes as she takes her phone back into her own hands. “Kara,” Lena says softly. She waits for Kara to make eye contact before she speaks again. “I would love to.” She smiles before adding, “To spend time with you. I-I’ve been considering you a friend too.”

The smile that breaks out on Kara’s face takes Lena’s breath away. “Really?” Kara signs.

“Of course.” Lena scoots closer to Kara. “I would be honored.”

“No, no, no.” Kara signs. “I would.”

They smile at each other for several moments. “Well, friend… would you like to grab dinner with me?”

Kara perks up instantly at the mention of food. “Takeout at my house?” She signs.

“Lead the way, Miss Danvers.”

The two grow closer, and they begin spending time together regularly. A couple of weeks later, Lena is beyond happy to say that she has a best friend. Her signing has become better, but she has never used it with Kara. The reporter doesn’t mind at all though. The first night that she didn’t have to use her phone to communicate with Lena was an amazing night for both of them. Kara had broken into a smile that could rival the sun’s brightness before beginning to cry in Lena’s arms. Something changed in Lena that night. She wanted to have Kara in her arms for the rest of her life.

After that night, the two spent the end of every day together. One night, they had a game night with Kara’s sister, Alex, and her girlfriend. Lena had never felt a sense of belonging and acceptance from a group of people like that before. When Lena and Kara were left alone in Kara’s apartment, Kara had sat Lena down on the couch with the intention to tell her something important. Lena watched Kara anxiously pace in front of the couch for several minutes before Kara had turned to her with a determined look. With wild, frantic gestures, Kara told Lena that she’s an alien. She had to fingerspell “alien” since Lena was unfamiliar with the sign. Lena had smiled adoringly at Kara, pulled her onto the couch, and asked her to teach her the sign. Kara cried in Lena’s arms again, and she stayed there while she talked about her home and coming to Earth.

Lena finally feels ready to try signing back to Kara. She has spent countless hours practicing through video chatting with deaf people around the country. Although Kara can hear people whispering miles away and has no need to have someone signing to her, Lena wants that connection. She can’t help but feel an imbalance with the use of two languages in one conversation. She wants to communicate with Kara in one language that they can both use. While sitting at her desk, Lena receives an email from one of her Gallaudet acquaintances. Intriguied, she opens the email titled, “I think you should see this.”

Her jaw drops when her eyes see the title of the article in the email. Her eyes grow wider and wider as she reads more of the article. It’s about soulmarks and nonverbal people. Deaf people and mutes are the focus of the article. Deaf people do not have words as their soulmarks. Instead of words, they have matching marks behind their ears. For people that are matched with nonverbal people, they simply do not have a mark.

Slowly, Lena looks up from the computer. Her eyes go unseeing as she considers what exactly she has read.

Kara.

Meeting Kara was like getting the breath stolen from her lungs.

The moment Kara walked out of her office the first time, Lena knew she wanted to learn her language.

Whenever she sees a flash of blonde hair, her heart hammers in her throat in hopes that it’s Kara.

Butterflies seems to take permanent residence in her stomach whenever Kara is near her.

As an alien with impervious skin, Kara can’t get a soulmark.

Kara had told her a hilarious story about her cousin awkwardly finding his soulmate.

Kara.

Suddenly, Lena stands quickly enough to cause her chair to roll back several feet. Barely managing to grab her phone on her way past her desk, she walks straight to the door. Stuck in a state of shock, she stammers out a request for Jess to cancel anything she has for the rest of the day on her way to the elevator. Her driver, thanks to a message from Jess, is waiting for her. Somehow, she finds enough words to tell her driver that she wants the keys. The next thing she remembers is standing in front of Kara’s door with her heart hammering in her ears. Kara opens the door seconds after she knocks.

Lena walks into Kara’s apartment before turning back to face Kara. With shaking hands, Lena signs, “it’s you.”

Kara’s eyes go wide in confusion, shock, and utter happiness at seeing Lena sign for the first time. “What?”

Lena fumbles a moment before she can get the watch off of her wrist. She holds her wrists out for Kara to see. A crinkle appears on Kara’s forehead as she looks down in confusion. Her eyes come back up to find Lena’s. Lena steps close and places a hand on Kara’s cheek. “It’s you, Kara,” she whispers. Kara blinks and understanding dawns on her before she removes the remaining distance between their lips. They both melt into the kiss.

When they pull back, both are wearing blinding smiles. Kara looks down at Lena’s wrist and runs her fingers over the smooth skin. “I don’t understand,” Kara signs. She adds the sign Lena last saw her do several weeks ago in her office.

“What’s that?” Lena signs.

“What?”

Lena copies the sign. Her left hand is open with her fingers together and pointing upward, and her right hand is in the shape of an “L.” The thumb of her right hand makes a wavy line going down her left palm.

Kara’s mouth form an “o” shape. “That?” Lena nods. Kara smiles shyly and looks down for a moment. When she looks back up, her eyes bore into Kara’s. “Your name sign.”

“I have a name sign?” She signs in question. Nodding, Kara smile brightens. “What does it mean?”

Biting her lip, Kara stares into her eye for a moment. With a shy smile, she signs “art,” which is similar to Lena’s name sign - except that the right hand makes the wavy line with the only the pinky up.

“Art?” Lena says as she copies the sign.

Kara nods adamantly. “You are better than any art I have ever seen.” Lena’s breath catches in her throat. Kara picks up her left hand and flips her wrist over to look at it. She points to the barely visible burn there.

Lena furrows her eyebrows together in slight confusion before speaking. “I got burned during a science experience when I was 11. It was… weird, and I never quite figured out what happened. I was wearing a watch, and then there was suddenly a burning feeling. To this day, I still swear my wrist was nowhere near the flame, but…” She looks up to see Kara giving her an extremely focused expression. “What?”

“What day?” Kara signs.

“Huh?” Lena asks.

“What day did that happen?”

Shrugging, Lena signs, “Late September, 2004.”

“22nd?” Kara asks,

Lena nods slowly. “That sounds right.” Before Lena can question her, Kara pulls her into a breathtaking kiss.

They break the kiss, and Kara is looking at Lena with so much love that Lena’s breath is sucked from her lungs. “That’s the day I landed here.” Kara’s eyes fill with tears. She picks up Lena’s hand and points to the scar before signing, “My family crest.”

http://archiveofourown.org/works/11097060/chapters/24758862

[whittlebaggett8]

Shen Yun posters are everywhere — here’s everything you need to know about the mysterious show and the ‘cult’ behind it, Defence Online

caption

A Shen Yun performance highlighted in the company’s latest trailer.

source

Shen Yun/YouTube

Posters for Shen Yun are so ubiquitous that they’ve become a meme. But what is it, anyway?

The show, organized by Chinese religious minority Falun Gong which is opposed to the Chinese government, carries a strong political message.

It’s shockingly profitable, according to public financial filings. The Shen Yun organization made $22.5 million in 2016.

Falun Gong is controversial for its bigoted beliefs, and is also harshly persecuted within China.

Shen Yun is a way Falun Gong communicates the story of its persecution.

Visit INSIDER’s homepage for more.

If you’ve walked around in literally any city lately, you’ve probably seen a poster for Shen Yun.

The cryptic advertisements usually feature a woman serenely gliding through the air in front of a lavender background. They bear the enigmatic slogan “5,000 years of civilization reborn.” It seems to be an ad for a dance performance.

But Shen Yun, as it turns out, isn’t just a dance show. It’s also part of an elaborate messaging strategy for Falun Gong – also known as Falun Dafa – a Chinese religious and political group persecuted within China that opposes the country’s ruling party.

So how, exactly, did a dissident Chinese political-and-religious organization start a dance show that became a meme and marketing juggernaut in the US? And what does any of this have to do with harvesting organs?

Well, we’ll explain.

OK, so what exactly is Shen Yun?

According to people who’ve seen the show, it’s a series of colorful dance vignettes, each one presenting a historical anecdote or ideological belief from Falun Gong.

The New Yorker’s Jia Tolentino describes it as “religious-political propaganda … an extremely elaborate commercial for Falun Dafa’s spiritual teachings and its plight vis-à-vis the Chinese Communist regime.”

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The show promises “5,000 years of civilization.”

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Shen Yun/YouTube

There are a few different troupes that tour the world. Dancers are trained at the Fei Tan Academy of the Arts, which is part of a 427-acre refuge for Falun Gong adherents in upstate New York. Profits from Shen Yun shows go towards maintaining the academy. The dance companies also, unusually, have a mixture of paid and unpaid performers, according to Hazlitt.

Shen Yun has a wide reach. It’s playing in 94 different American cities this year, and has dozens of other shows in Canada, Mexico, Asia, Australia, and New Zealand – but not, as you can imagine, China.

So it’s basically propaganda?

Well, it depends who you ask. But yes, the show definitely has a specific ideological bent. The purpose of Shen Yun is to demonstrate the evils of China’s communist party and its beliefs. The show is fervently anti-atheist, anti-evolution, anti-Mao Zedong, and anti-Karl Marx.

Shen Yun also highlights specific examples of China’s communist party persecuting Falun Gong. The show includes a “dance with the organ harvesting,” according to the New Yorker. We’ll explain the organ harvesting thing in a bit.

How do they afford all those posters?

Since Shen Yun is an arm of Falun Gong, it relies on Falun Gong members to help spread the word. Those Shen Yun posters everywhere? The ubiquity is the result of hardworking volunteers on the ground, distributing flyers and arranging the shows with venues in exchange for just a couple of tickets to the show.

Aside from that, the show actually has enormous demand. The ticket prices vary by city and venue, but they can go into the hundreds of dollars. Wen Chen, a Falun Gong organizer in California, told the Los Angeles Times he gave away his own tickets to a show in Los Angeles when the waitlist was more than 100 people long.

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Shen Yun/YouTube

The money made from shows, according to the Los Angeles Times, goes back to the Fei Tian Academy of the Arts, which can then train more Shen Yun players. The organization has its own budget, which is publicly published, and appears to be financially independent from the rest of Falun Gong.

It’s quite profitable: Shen Yun made $22.5 million in revenue in 2016, the latest year where public filings are available, and spent only $7.3 million in expenses. The Shen Yun organization had more than $75 million in total assets, according to the filing.

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Shen Yun/YouTube

But because Shen Yun is part of Falun Gong, the advertising isn’t just about selling tickets, and the show isn’t just about making money. As Business Journal pointed out, the show also functionally spreads the word of Falun Gong, and offers a view of China that differs from the Communist party line. The marketing helps makes what would otherwise be a fringe event – a politically infused dance show – into a legitimate and significant cultural force.

Uh, OK. So is the show any good?

Most people think the dancer’s acrobatic performances are pretty cool, even if the show’s messages are confusing.

On Yelp, the reviews are mixed. A lot of people express feeling cheated for not realizing that the show promotes Falun Gong.

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Shen Yun dancers rehearsing for a 2016 performance in Long Beach, California.

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Scott Varley/Digital First Media/Torrance Daily Breeze via Getty Images

“Some of the dancing was pretty, an occasional skit was amusing, one of the musical numbers with the Chinese two-stringed instrument was very nice, but mostly it was repetitive and schlocky,” Ruth N. wrote about a performance in San Francisco. “AND, definitely filled with proselytizing of the very bizarre Falun Gong cult.”

Others were impressed by the athleticism, costume design, and storytelling, including Cate Blanchett. The actress said the show was “an extraordinary experience for us and the children” and that “the level of skill, but also the power of the archetypes and the narratives were startling.”

In fact, Shen Yun’s advertising campaign is a long list of apparent endorsements from celebrities and politicians They’re touted on its website and included in a lot of ad campaigns. Even presidential candidate Sen. Amy Klobuchar put out a statement supporting the show.

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The dance troupe performs along a 40-member orchestra.

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Scott Varley/Digital First Media/Torrance Daily Breeze via Getty Images

But it’s not clear how these statements were obtained and why they’ve been issued. Klobuchar’s team told the Star Tribune in 2015 that her statement was meant to be categorized as a “diplomatic gesture” in support of an international cultural group.

A representative for Blanchett didn’t immediately respond to INSIDER’s request for comment. Shen Yun didn’t immediately respond to requests for comment on this story.

What’s the deal with Falun Gong?

Falun Gong is a religious and political group from China with beliefs related to Buddhism and Taoism. It focuses on the human body through the lens of an idea and practice called qigong, which is meant to achieve enlightenment.

The group was founded by Li Hongzhi in 1992. He’s controversial for his personal beliefs, which are homophobic, racist, and anti-science.

Didn’t the founder of Falun Gong say something about aliens awhile back?

Yes. Li outlined some of his more eyebrow-raising beliefs in an interview with Time magazine in 1992. He said that David Copperfield can really levitate off the ground, that qigong can cure illness, and that aliens introduce science in the world so that they could use human bodies.

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Li Hongzhi, the master of Falun Gong, in New York in 1999.

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HENNY ABRAMS/AFP/Getty Images

“Everyone thinks that scientists invent on their own when in fact their inspiration is manipulated by the aliens,” Li said. “The ultimate purpose is to replace humans … The human body is the most perfect in the universe. It is the most perfect form. The aliens want the human body.”

What’s China’s beef with them?

Falun Gong grew quickly in the 1990s. By 1999, the group had between 70 million and 100 million followers, according to the New York Times. The group became a significant voice of protest in a country that, at the time, had a population of nearly 1.3 billion.

Falun Gong’s largest protest – of 10,000 people – occurred in 1999, and ultimately sparked a crackdown, as described in a 2008 congressional report. Falun Gong is technically banned in China, so you won’t find Shen Yun shows there.

Read more: This map shows a trillion-dollar reason why China is oppressing more than a million Muslims

China’s embassy in the United States has published multiple statements bashing Falun Gong, Li, and Shen Yun. The notion that Falun Gong is a “cult” is a feature of Chinese propaganda against the organization.

“The so-called “Shen yun” is not a cultural performance at all but a political tool of ‘Falun Gong’ to preach cult messages, spread anti-China propaganda, increase its own influence and raise funds,” the embassy said in a statement. “The public need to stay away from the so-called ‘Shenyun’ performance of the ‘Falun Gong’ organization so as to avoid being deceived and used by the cult.”

Li, no longer safe in China, lives in the United States as a permanent resident. China has an outstanding warrant for his arrest.

And what’s this I hear about harvesting organs?

One of the ways China persecutes Falun Gong, members of the organization say, is by imprisoning its members and stealing their organs.

While research reports by governments and NGOs found that the allegations are true, it’s not clear if organ-harvesting continues today.

“As noted in the Department’s recently-released Human Rights Report on China, some activists and organizations continue to accuse the government of involuntarily harvesting organs from prisoners of conscience, especially members of Falun Gong,” a spokesperson for the US State Department told INSIDER. “The government denied the claims, having officially ended the long-standing practice of involuntarily harvesting the organs of executed prisoners for use in transplants in 2015.”

A State Department representative also told INSIDER that it backs freedom of religion in China, and believes that the ban against Falun Gong should be lifted.

“The United States continues to call on Chinese authorities to end the ban on the Falun Gong, allowing them to worship freely and practice their faith in accordance with international human rights commitments,” the spokesperson said. “Freedom of religion is critical to a peaceful, stable, and thriving society.”

Does this have anything to do with that random anti-China newspaper that shows up on my porch for some reason?

You’re probably thinking of the Epoch Times. It’s a free newspaper that’s aggressively distributed in some cities and suburbs in the United States. And it, too, has links to Falun Gong. If you’ve ever opened it up, you’ve probably seen the same type of anti-China messaging you’d find in Shen Yun.

So…what does any of this have to do with memes?

The ubiquity of Shen Yun’s posters, along with the posters’ distinctive design, has made them ripe for meme-dom.

Incredible new image from the mars rover pic.twitter.com/qjYFH0LbLH

— Ben Ellman (@heybellman) January 24, 2019

Me: h- Shen Yun: pic.twitter.com/zBn8NLtOVP

— ???? (@woozy_woozi) January 30, 2019

Shen yun is getting pretty … invasive pic.twitter.com/k1G2xPDxTx

— vanessa blah (@myfbstatuses) January 24, 2019

Fan theory I haven’t been hearing enough: What if the unseen force in “Bird Box” is the Shen Yun advertisements. pic.twitter.com/8FTTPThT5Q

— Peter Hartlaub (@peterhartlaub) December 24, 2018

pic.twitter.com/o9Bfs6PSVk

— Hot Janitor (@haha_lets_chill) January 22, 2019

The meme reinforces its marketing. By having posters everywhere, Shen Yun has become a viral joke – which just raises more awareness for the show. Kind of genius, if you think about it.

The post Shen Yun posters are everywhere — here’s everything you need to know about the mysterious show and the ‘cult’ behind it, Defence Online appeared first on Defence Online.

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[kari-izumi]

Mokuba’s Reason Why Not: Chapter One

Or, “Hey, Kari is Finally Gonna Post That 5+1 Fic She’s Been Dropping Hints About Since Forever”

So, finally…finally, I have something I can live with for this prologue. This was originally 900 words, and now it’s over three times as long. And I don’t think I’ve ever edited a story this many times as I have this one chapter. I’m still not 100 percent, but I need to feel like I’ve made some progress in any part of my crumbling life, so here it is.

I haven’t posted on AO3 yet just in case anyone here has any suggestions to make it stronger before going live (it’s not beta'ed since I’ve been outta fandom for years and I’ve lost contact with most of the folks I used to talk with…but given the pairing, it may have been a hard sell anyway…or not, given the response that this postgot).

So, the premise began with me wanting to write a whole different idea entirely. Actually, two–I tried writing this scenario from several viewpoints but it was far too angsty for my liking. To get into the second idea would be to spoil future chapters. But doing a 5+1 story could incorporate a whole bunch of ideas and characters I wanted to write for as well as to subvert that teen playboy and the prudish nerd girl trope because seriously, did anyone watch seasons four and five and notice how forward Rebecca was towards Yuugi?

Okay, those seasons suck ass, but you know what I mean XD

On that tangent, fair warning: lots of making out in this chapter. I struggled a lot with how um…detailed to make this. Namely to keep as little as possible. And honestly, all the “writing about children having sex at any point in their lives, even years after canon as teens/adults makes you a pedo” bullshit on this site made me nervous about posting this at all. I don’t have a problem with blocking anyone who will ship bash. Don’t like; don’t read applies here. But there won’t be any sex depicted in future chapters.

Beyond that, any comments and critiques are more than welcomed in my inbox.

Title:Mokuba’s Reason Why Not Pairing:Kiddyshipping, with a couple surprise pairings on the side Chapters:1/7 Summary: “Losing his virginity isn’t something he’s planned on in this busy week, but when an intelligent, awesome girl like Rebecca admits to having the hots for him, Seto is out of town and no one else is going to stop them, the question isn’t why he should do it, but why not?

If any two fifteen years old have ability to tell if this is a good idea, it’s them.”

Or, the five times Mokuba thinks he's got this sex thing figured out and the one time he knows for sure what it is he wants.

—  

Fifteen year olds doing homework with their friends happens every afternoon. Normally, it’s for a trig class or Japanese literature or focusing on the college entrance exam.

Fifteen year olds working after class to have a bit of spending money is also common. They have a delivery route or know a family friend in need of a help at the local restaurant.

A fifteen year old girl researching historic artifacts for her university master thesis, five thousand miles away from home is rare. A fifteen year old boy who holds the Vice Presidency of a major gaming corporation whose spending money is more than what most take home in their entire lives is even less seldomly seen.

“We really do have crazy busy lives,” Rebecca remarks on one such afternoon. She holds a textbook open with one hand while writing notes into a tablet with the other. “It’s almost like we’re not even kids anymore.”

From the other side of the desk in his corporate office, Mokuba glances through his own stack of papers; some are contracts to be reviewed, others mundane reports. He’s been at this all day, and if he’s honest, it’s all starting to run together.

It’s not like he has much time to think about stuff like that, least of all these past two weeks. There are times that he wants a bit more normalcy–being able to attend after school clubs or blow off work for a party. But for all that is unusual about his life, he’s content for what it is. He’s got an awesome brother, a set future, plenty of friends–and Rebecca, sitting across from his desk, who understands the pressure of high expectations better than anyone else his age.

Blinking his eyes as he looks over at her, Mokuba says with a wiry grin, “Yeah, but I’ve gotten used to it. I can’t imagine any other way of life. Could you?”

“Eh?” She looks up from her tablet, tapping the pen at her mouth the way she always does when she’s got something she’s contemplating. “I guess I can’t. Even if I wasn’t a prodigy, I think being in high school for four years and gossiping about clothes and boys would have gotten pretty boring anyway. I’m pretty glad for my life and I enjoy all the friends I’ve made in the pro dueling circuit. Like you.“

He sits up even straighter in his seat.

“Its nice having someone my age who isn’t intimidated by me being smart.”

Mokuba feels the room, which is already soundproofed to block outside noise, grow even more quiet as a certain warm, ecstatic feeling comes over him at her words. Intimidated? Her intelligence was his favorite thing about her! “You broke through Nii-sama’s security and helped us get the company back. I guess people might get freaked out, but I think that’s awesome.”

It’s not the first time they’ve discussed DOMA or her crazy hacking skills. But Rebecca usually brags that she could teach him a few new skills and not lower her eyes as her cheeks grow pink.

Letting out a cough, Rebecca asks hurriedly as she resumes scanning through her book, “Speaking of him, when does Kaiba come back from Hong Kong, anyway?”

“Monday afternoon,” he replies. He goes back to his own stack of papers, pretending as he always does that he doesn’t notice or care how much he truly likes having her around. And sure, she’s gotten hot over the past year, objectively speaking; but more than that, her boundless enthusiasm for gaming and school and everything is hard not to get suck into.

Rebecca speaks again. “You looked like you were spacing out for a moment.”

“It’s fine,” Mokuba says automatically as he picks up a new report to glance over.

“Bullshit! Have you even slept in the past few days?”

“Work’s gotta get done. Not like I’m going to school tomorrow.”

“That’s no answer!”

Rebecca reaches over for his free hand, and not even the clearly angry, frustrated scowl on her face negates the sudden jolt of electricity that shoots up through his arm.

“Look, I know a thing or two about all-nighters, and it doesn’t do you or your project any good to burn yourself out. If you work yourself to death like you tell me Kaiba does, how can you help him?”

Realizing that she still is holding his hand–and that somehow, their pinkies have become entwined–they both turn away from each other, but neither moves. Mokuba doesn’t blush that easily with his completion but he does feel his ears burn. “I mean…you’re right about that. I haven’t slept much, but…I’ll try.”

Sighing she says. “No, I shouldn’t bring it up. I know you’re working to keep up the company for your brother. But I can’t help it to bring up a better way of doing things a when I see it.” Rebecca laughs as she adds, quietly, “You probably think I’m too outspoken.”

“What? Not at all! There’s nothing wrong with passion and speaking up. And if other people have a problem with that, that’s their issue, not yours.” He believes this firmly, and looks her square in the eye as he says this. “And I like that you’re direct. You’re like the most honest person I know.”

Rebecca looks like she wants to say something, but closes her mouth. Her expression changes to one of resolve–Mokuba’s noticed the same look appear during her duels when she’s deciding on the best play against her opponent; beyond that he isn’t sure what else to read into it. Maybe he’s said too much, he wonders as she removes her hand from his to close her tablet and textbook, placing them into the bag on the floor. It’s only the training he’s gotten from Seto on how to school his face and emotions when he needs to that keeps him from showing any emotion of his own, as he realizes how nervous he is.

Mokuba watches her stand up out of her seat…

…and walks around the desk, stopping right at his chair, spinning it towards her. His heart nearly stops when Rebecca leans over and places a hand on either shoulder, rolling one thumb on the collar of the blue dress shirt he wore that day.

“How about I show you what I’m feeling?”

Her eyes really more like emeralds when her face is this close, brilliant and clear and reflecting the afternoon sun.

Mokuba has thought about this and thinks of his best line to respond:

“Um…wait, what?”

Rebecca doesn’t seem to mind or care that his brain has short circuited as she coos in a voice that’s far quieter than he thinks she is capable of. “Shut up, Mokuba.”

It happens so quickly that Mokuba doesn’t have time to close his eyes or to move his hands off the armrests. Her lips feel so soft along his and a current shoots through him from the sensation.

Rebecca jumps away suddenly, covering her mouth with her hands. Her eyes are wide in shock.

“Did you feel that…that spark?!” she squeaks.

“Wow…yeah.” He definitely felt that, placing two fingers on his own mouth, which is still a bit tingly. “But I liked it, though.”

He really did…and thinks it could be better. Mokuba stands up and pulls Rebecca close, his arms wrapping around her shoulders as her hands reach for his neck.

“You’re so tall,” she notes, looking up at him with a rapt expression, her voice so quiet.

With his own goofy grin Mokuba tilts her chin up to kiss her again, and hell yeah, this is a whole lot better indeed, being able to hold her close, catching the glimpse of a smile each time they break apart. The air grows still and the light gets slightly brighter through the window and he entirely forgets the rest of the world. So maybe he wouldn’t have picked his office for their first kiss; but then nothing in their lives follows the typical teenage script anyway.

As if by some primal urge that he doesn’t fully understand, Mokuba soon finds himself guiding Rebecca onto the top of the desk. She looks down, being careful not to knock over the forgotten stack of papers before leaning back, propping herself on her elbows.

Rebecca lets out an excited giggle. “You have a chair, you know!”

“Yeah,” he says, resting one hand along her hip and gripping her cheek with the other. “But it’s more fun like this.”

Mokuba becomes very aware of the way her thighs squeeze his hips, pulling them even closer. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

He hasn’t planned any of this, but being a Kaiba, he’s long since learned to roll with the unexpected and wield it to his advantage…and from the muffled sounds Rebecca makes as their mouths connect, she’s enjoying this a lot. And he enjoys that she’s enjoying this as the languid, chaste kisses soon give way to deeper, more intense ones each time they separate for air. Their tongues meet,  tentatively at first, then more often; their hands begin roaming along backs and hips and twisting into one another’s hair as the silence in the room is filled with increasingly louder, heavier, more ragged breathing.

“…Mokuba?”

“Mmmm…?”

Rebecca pulls away, her cheeks a dark red, looking down briefly as she asks. “…that’s not your cell phone, is it?”

He freezes immediately, feeling his face growing heated and his mouth goes dry. “Umm…no,” he whispers.

It comes back to him right now–that conversation that he had with Seto a few months ago about biological urges taking over rational thought in the heat of a passionate moment and promise me you’ll take a minute to think it over, Mokuba–or rather, that Seto insisted on having with him over breakfast, the morning after the last tournament. Next the actual sex talk two years ago, it was easily the most awkward and out-of-the-blue conservations Mokuba could remember, and he still hasn’t figured out what exactly prompted him to bring it up when he did.

Maybe Seto realized somehow that this exact situation was going to happen, sooner rather than later.

Rebecca–rather than being bashful by…well, him–is grinning wickedly. “I’m glad.”

Mokuba can barely register her implication as she rolls her hips against his, hooks her legs even tighter and sucks down on a spot right behind his ear and that–that entirely throws his rational thought away so thoroughly that if he wasn’t so entirely turned on, it might have scared him to think he could lose control of himself this quickly–to grab a tight hold of her hair as he lays her back into the smooth wooden surface, being urged on by the noises as he kisses her neck, and desiring to grab her hips to test out how truly soundproof this office really is–

“Mokuba-sama,” he hears.

They both freeze, and the temperature in the room plummets instantly as everything comes crashing back into focus. Mokuba snaps up straight as his eyes instantly focus towards the door that he’s sure he didn’t lock to find it still firmly shut.

“It’s just the intercom,” he tells her, sighing in relief.

“I guess you have to get that soon…” says Rebecca. Her smile is unusually relaxed, even for her.

Mokuba gives her a slight grin in return.“If I don’t pick up, he’ll worry and call Nii-sama.”

“Hmmm.”

“Mokuba-sama, are you there? I have the tournament scheduling you asked for.”

Taking a moment to steady his breathing again, Mokuba reaches out for the intercom button, trying desperately to keep his voice flat and neutral. “Yeah, I’m here, just…can you leave it by the door?”

There’s a slight pause before Isono replies, “Yes, Mokuba-sama.”

Apart from the shock of nearly getting caught, a part of Mokuba is thankful for the interruption. What the hell was that?! He rubs at his face, feeling as though he’s coming back into his body as he remembers the other part of Seto’s talk: a list of all condom brands available in every country Kaiba Corporation did business in.

“Damn, that was too close,” he says, after a pause, low under his breath.

“I’ll say. I don’t what Isono would have done if he’d saw us like this,” Rebecca says with a sly smile and a wink.

Mokuba decides against any clarification on that as he pulls her up, helping her off the desk before pulling her into a chaste hug. His cheek rests against the top of Rebecca’s head, taking in the comforting scents of bright yuzu lemon and sweet jasmine in her hair.

“I’m sorry,“ he says.

“For what?”

“Because I didn’t even think about using…um…when we were about to…”

Rebecca catches his meaning and the smile is beaming as she kisses his cheek. “You silly. It’s sweet you were worried, but I’ve taken the pill for awhile anyway…just in case.”

“Oh.”

Oh.

The thought that Rebecca has been thinking about this…with him…for a while is a huge ego boost and flattered is too weak a word to describe the feeling that comes over him. But then, she’s one of the smartest people he knows.

She continues, not meeting his eyes as her face goes from a slight pink to deep red. “You’re the first guy that I’ve really felt like I wanted to…um, I mean…well, you know.”

“Me, too,” he replies. Maybe he hasn’t given nearly as much planning, but this afternoon…damn. Mokuba doesn’t remember a time when he’s smiled this much or felt so alive. “That was so crazy intense. I felt like…wow.”

“I know.”

There’s a look in her eyes, Mokuba notices–the one Rebecca gets when she’s got a plan or an idea that, he knows from experience, she won’t let go of. But there’s something else behind it this time, and realizes she had a similar look right before they were interrupted–

“I think we should do it.”

Her arms tighten around his back, clinging onto his shirt, her eyes oddly serious.

Mokuba isn’t sure how far his jaw has dropped. Rebecca has never exactly been shy about going for what she wants; she certainly wasn’t earlier. But stating it so plainly just makes it all so real.

“What’s with that look?” Rebecca’s smile doesn’t quite look as natural as usual. “Didn’t you want to do it earlier?”

“Well, yeah,” Mokuba says and squeezes her shoulders more tightly, and he’s never been so aware of his own heartbeat. “But this is moving a little fast, isn’t it?”

“Eh?” Rebecca snaps her head up, scanning the office with a look of disbelief. “Look at where we are! Our whole lives have been moving fast for as long as either of us can remember. At least this is our decision.”

“Shouldn’t we go on a date first?!” 

“Well obviously, we’d go out to dinner first. I have standards.”

“That’s not what I mean!” he sighs, closing his eyes. “I mean, I really want to…you know…but we just figured out that we like each other like that. Why rush?”

“Is this any more crazy than you missing class to run a company or me having yet another degree before I can legally drive here or back home? Kids our age are doing it anyway–”

“Did you really just–?”

She places a finger to his lips. “–and we obviously click. Why would we wait?”

Mokuba opens his mouth to counter, but nothing comes out. Rebecca isn’t wrong; he knows all the reasons kids their age are told to wait, but the biggest one–ruining your future–would hardly apply to them. He’s already lived through things that would have entirely broken many others. In nearly every other way that matters, they might as well be adults already.

Even if Mokuba isn’t exactly sure he’s ready for that step right now, there isn’t anyone else he would even consider sharing this with…so does it really matter if they do this now or in a few months anyway? The newly awakened part of his mind reminds him of the excitement of wanting to melt into one another, hearing her cry out in pure bliss at his touch; the images quickly crush the nagging voice that says slow down because you want more than just sex.

“Not like anyone would stop us anyway,” Mokuba points out. Arthur Hawkins still resides in San Francisco in between his archeological digs, Isono he’s sure wouldn’t breathe a word of it to anyone as long as he comes home before Seto gets back–

Shit.

As far as he knows, Mokuba officially has more first hand knowledge of this subject than Seto does at twenty years old. How would he even begin to approach this subject with him? Would Seto even understand? Or try to stop him?

“You said Kaiba won’t be back till Monday?” Rebecca asks as though she could read his mind.

Mokuba blinks a few times as the realization kicks in. “Yeah…”

Maybe just this once, Seto doesn’t have to know anything about this at all.

Rebecca strokes behind his ear, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “So, Saturday works?”

Losing his virginity isn’t something he’s planned on in this busy week, but when an intelligent, awesome girl like Rebecca admits to having the hots for him, Seto is out of town and no one else is going to stop them, the question isn’t why he should do it, but why not?

If any two fifteen years old have ability to tell if this is a good idea, it’s them.

He reaches for her neck to bring her in for a quick kiss on the forehead as he says, “Let’s do it.”

I bet I can totally feel her up now.

He goes for it, slipping one hand into the opening of her shirt.

–and gets his hand slapped hard.

“Ow!”

Rebecca cheerfully waves a finger at his nose. “Nuh-uh!”

“But–!”

“Nope!”

“Weren’t we gonna do it earlier?!”

“Yeah, but it’ll be way more exciting to wait, won’t it?” She giggles as she pulls away and claims her backpack. “Besides, it’s only two days. I’m sure you can wait that long.”

Mokuba honestly doesn’t know how he’s managed to live this long without it!

“Can’t I feel over the shirt?”

“Hmmm…” Rebecca pretends to think on it, tapping a finger against her chin. “No, that’d be way too distracting when I get home. Sorry!”

“Distracting how?”

Rebecca doesn’t respond as she heads towards the door, only giggles. “You’re way more innocent than I thought…oh…”

The tournament schedule that Isono left, he remembers. He walks towards the door and reaches down for the folder.

“Oooh, I wanna see who I’m up against!”

“Sorry, Rebecca,” he says. “You know I can’t show anyone that.”

“Awww! Not even a hint?”

He pretends not to notice the hand that reaches his arm as he taps the folder lightly on the top of her head. He’s grinning as he replies, “Won’t it be more fun to wait?”

They lock eyes; a second later they’ve pulled each other into another searing kiss, but Mokuba breaks it off before either can get carried away again.

“Saturday,” he tells her.

Rebecca blinks, her hand lingering on his chest for a second before taking a step back and heads out the door. “Yeah…see ya.”

Mokuba takes his folder back to his desk, but sets down without opening its contents. There’s no way he can go back to his work now or even go to sleep with thoughts about Rebecca–

Distraction.

…oh.

He suddenly feels a bit distracted himself at the thought, regretting the decision to have this suit tailored so snug to his lithe frame. Mokuba growls, running both hands in his hair.

It’s going to be a long two days.