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maddieinwonder · 4 years ago

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A Lesson In Romance #3: The Cast

Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.5k

Plot: Reader keeps getting caught in rom-com situations with Spencer Reid. This time, the team figures it out.

A/N: I'm guilty of writing too much Morgan and Garcia but I can't help it — they're so much fun! I think them plus Emily would have the most dramatic reactions to Spencer in a (potential) relationship, though I'm excited to write about the rest too.

(Also, the reference at the end is from Lord of the Rings, because I love Lord of the Rings.)

Masterlist | All chapters here!

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If you've learned anything from rom-coms, it's that every romantic lead needed a supporting cast. Whether they were siblings, parents, or childhood best friends, the main character needed somebody who would drop everything to talk to them — preferably showing up at their doorstep with face masks, nail polish, and a bottle of wine.

In your life right now, you suppose those people would be your teammates from the BAU.

Of course, this hypothetical scenario didn't require your potential love interest to be from work, but let's say for the purposes of the discussion that they were. Then you hoped, at least, that they would have an IQ of 150 or higher and a propensity for wearing mismatched socks.

But you were getting ahead of yourself. You were simply imagining the hypothetical scenario where your life was a rom-com. Hypothetically, you would need a love interest, and hypothetically, you kind of already had one.

“Hey,” Spencer waved you over from across the coffee shop. It wasn’t difficult to spot him when the place was nearly vacant. Everything was slow and quiet this early in the morning, and you weren’t going to make an exception.

“Morning,” you greeted softly as you sat down, relaxing into the smell of freshly roasted coffee and baked goods.

“I already ordered yours.” He smiled, tucking his book away in his messenger bag. “They had bagels this morning. Yours is cream cheese, but mine is strawberry jelly.” He looked overly pleased with himself, and you couldn’t help but crack a sleepy smile.

You eyed the spread in front of you, before lifting your gaze to meet his. “So your theory that you can predict my taste in desserts seems to be getting better.”

"Yes!" He shout-whispered, silently raising his fists in victory. “I knew I was right.”

You giggled at his overexcitement over something as small as getting your dessert order right. Although, he did once spend ten whole minutes explaining to you why dessert for breakfast was an underrated concept, so you couldn't say this was beyond your expectations for Dr. Spencer Reid.

You propped your head up with your arms, a smile plastered over your face. “Have I ever told you that you’re a weirdo, doctor?” You teased.

“Why, yes. Yes you have.” He replied with a smile, gesturing at you to try the bagel. His own was almost-gone, so they must be good.

And it was. Your eyes fluttered shut as the heavenly combination of carbs and cream woke up your taste buds. It was made even better with a sip of the perfect cup of coffee.

"Perfect," you sighed happily, digging into your breakfast further as Spencer quietly caught you up on the latest news in classical art.

Two weeks ago, you wouldn't have guessed that you would talk to Spencer alone, much less spend your mornings together with him. But as it turned out, a lot could change in a few days.

After the initial awkwardness between you had passed, you found that the two of you shared a lot more interests than interdimensional doctors and space opera. You both loved coffee, obviously, but you also had a mutual love for desserts, classical literature, and history.

It didn't take long for these interests to seep into the weekend, resulting in a suspiciously date-like afternoon with Spencer at his favourite museum. But you tried not to think too much into it. After all, the day had ended with a "see you at work", and not a "would you like to come in?"

Still, your dance between friendship and something more continued to grow wilder as days passed, until it reached a point where it inhabited your every waking thought. The only time it didn't, ironically, was when you were spending time with the person in question and every stray thought seemed to fall away.

Your mornings with him brought a necessary reprieve to the dark realities of this job, and some days you almost had to drag yourself out of your seat, knowing that you were straying from the calm of his company straight into the lion's mouth. But duty always called.

Your sudden hesitance to be apart from the resident genius hadn't gone unnoticed by the rest of your team either; ever since the two of you walked into office one morning with matching coffee cups and smiles on your faces.

At first you enjoyed Spencer's company too much to care, but you knew that it was going to bite you back one day. And today seemed to be that day.

You could tell, because the lift doors to the BAU opened to one very determined Penelope Garcia with her arms folded across her chest. "Spit it out, you two," she said sharply without any greeting.

You and Spencer looked at each other, confused, before looking back at Penelope. "Spit out what, Pen?" You asked, a frown starting to form between your eyes.

"You know what I mean!" She squeaked, dropping her stern facade for a brief moment. "Are the two of you dating? The entire team has been dying to know, and I mean, d-y-i-n-g because there's a huge pot of money with my name on it if you are."

"Ah— No— I mean, you think—" Spencer stammered, his face instantly turning beet red in embarrassment, while your face began to grow red for another reason entirely.

"I think what he means is 'no', and what I mean to say is— what do you mean the entire team?" You half-yelled the question, while Penelope raised her hands defensively.

"What I mean, sugar, is that the two of you went from avoiding each other completely, to coming into work together everyday — and I know you spent last weekend together too, because you couldn't stop talking about it the next day at work and everybody noticed." She stated, pushing up her glasses.

"Not to mention, Dr. Reid here started wearing brighter colours subconsciously." She continued with her observations. "I know this, because in the almost four years I've worked with this man, I've never seen him wear anything brighter than violet. Or white. Or beige. But those don't count." She shook her head, getting back to her point.

"You get what I mean— and you," she pointed her pen in your direction, causing you to jump slightly. "You finally stopped doubting yourself as a part of this team. I knew this when you started talking more often during briefings — which I have nothing against, B-T-W, I totally support any effort in self-care and personal growth — but you also stopped shifting in your seat which you used to do when you felt nervous."

Penelope took a deep breath, preparing for the climax. "So all I can assume, is either you've been attending one of the 52 self-help classes that happen every weekend in Virginia, or somebody has been helping you find some serious zen."

"And my money's on the latter because every time you think nobody's watching, you're making eyes at Reid. But you're wrong. Garcia is always watching." She concluded triumphantly, raising one finger to point at herself.

"You might make a good profiler yet, doll." Derek remarked, walking up to the group with a smirk firmly affixed to his face.

"Expert at all things romance, and Cupid of the Behavioural Analysis Unit, Penelope Garcia at your service." She smiled, graciously curtseying to your other teammate.

"I know you're smart like that, babygirl," he grinned, draping his arm around her shoulder, "but you also don't know pretty boy as well as I do, because they aren't in a relationship."

He turned to you questioningly. "Are you?"

"No." You replied, glancing hesitantly at Spencer for his response, but his face simply looked blank with shock.

"See? Now it's time to collect my payout." Derek grinned at the tech analyst, making the motion of raining dollar bills.

Penelope tailed behind him grumpily as he walked into the BAU office, surely to share the "good news" with everybody else.

You hesitated to follow, imagining what teasing and looks would follow regardless of the outcome. Then you felt a tap on your shoulder. Turning around, Spencer gestured back at the empty lift with his head and you smiled, realising what he meant.

"That is the best hypothesis you've had all morning," you said. The two of you shared a laugh as you got back into the lift.

Even behind glass doors, you could hear a muffled "What?!" that you guessed came from Emily. "There's absolutely no way those two aren't together already. Have you seen them?"

There was a brief pause, then a loud groan.

"I know, that's what I told him!" Penelope's high-pitched voice was clear. "You know I'm going to be right about them eventually—"

The lift doors finally closed, blocking out the rest of their conversation. You looked up at Spencer, your gaze meeting his clear hazel eyes. He looked at his watch briefly before saying the next words.

"We've got time. Are you up for second breakfast?" He asked, referencing a movie from a conversation two weeks ago. He remembered. Of course he remembered.

You cleared your throat before replying the next line. "What about elevenses? Luncheon? Afternoon tea? Dinner? Supper?"

He laughed, and you felt a familiar peace return to you.

Whatever your teammates were yelling about, the two of you could deal with it later. Together.

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Tag list:

@blue-space-porgs @nobutalsoyes @lady-loves-a-lot

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olderthannetfic · 4 years ago

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It's really surprising that you're so well versed in older fandoms and yet participate in new popular ones (that cdrama, kpop) is this by design? Im in my twenties and my interest turnover is already way slower than it used to be

You know, that’s a really interesting question. I wouldn’t say it’s by design exactly in that I do tend to just follow what strikes my fancy, and I can’t force myself to want to write fic for just anything. (I find it easier to like reading fic without serious involuntary emotional investment, but writing takes more. Vidding I can do on command most of the time, but I don’t usually bother unless I have a lot of feels or I’m fulfilling someone’s prompt.)

However, me getting into BTS was 100% due to me wanting to understand BTS enough to explain to people who weren’t very interested but wanted to know what was going on in fandom lately. Under normal circumstances, I run the dance party at Escapade, the oldest extant slash con. We borrowed vividcon’s thing of playing fanvids on the wall--all of them set to dance music--as the soundtrack for the dance party. This means I’m creating a 3-hour mixtape of fannishness, which has amazing potential to make people feel in the know about Fandom Today... and equal potential to make them feel alienated if nothing they care about shows up. Only about 100-150 people attend the con, so it really is possible to make a playlist that feels inclusive yet informative--it just takes a huge amount of work.

Every year, I do a lot of research on which fandoms are getting big and look for vids from vidders people won’t have heard of, so there is an element of consciously trying to keep up with things. Generally, I only get into these fandoms myself if I had no idea what they were and then suddenly, oops, they’re my kryptonite, like the buddy cop android plot in Detroit: Become Human, which sucked me in hard for like 6 months on the basis of a vid.

(So if you’re into cross-fandom meta and associated stuff as one of your fannish interests, you tend to have broader knowledge of different fandoms, old and new, than if you’re just looking for the next place you’ll read fic. It’s also easier to love vids for unfamiliar things than fic.)

But though I was only looking for a basic primer on BTS, BTS has 7 members with multiple names and no clear juggernaut pairing, not to mention that AU that runs through the music videos and lots of other context to explain. The barrier to understanding WTF was going on at all was high enough that to know enough to explain, I had to be thoroughly exposed... And once I was over that hurdle, oops, I had a fandom.

In terms of old vs. new, here’s the thing: kpop fandoms in English and c-drama fandoms in English right now feel a lot like anime fandom in English did in the early 00s. I had a Buddy Cops of the 70s phase in the middle, but my current fannishness is actually a return to my older fannishness in many ways.

What do I mean about them being similar?

Yes, I know some wanker will show up to say I think China, Korea, and Japan are indistinguishable, but that’s not what I’m talking about. I’m talking about the way that I used to routinely meet Italian and French and German fans, Argentinian and Mexican, Malaysian and Indonesian and Filipino too. English-language fandom of SPN or MCU may have all those fans from all those countries, but it feels very American most of the time. English-language fandom of a non-English-language canon is more overtly about using English as a lingua franca.

It also tends to attract people who as a sideline to their fannishness are getting into language learning and translation, which are my other passion in life after fanworks fandom. (I speak only English and Spanish and a bit of Japanese, but I’ve studied German, French, Russian, Mandarin, Old English, and now Korean.)

Nerds arguing about methods of language learning and which textbooks are good and why is my jam. This is all over the place in English-language fandoms of Chinese, Japanese, and Korean media. Those fandoms also tend to be full of speakers coming from a Germanic or Romance languages background who face similar hurdles in learning these languages. (In other words, if you’re a native Japanese speaker trying to learn Korean, the parts that will be hard for you are different than if you’re an English speaker, but you’re also usually not doing fandom in English.)

There’s also an element of scarcity and difficulty of access and a communal attempt to construct a canon (in the other sense) of stuff from that country that pertains to one’s fannishness. So, for example, a primer explaining the genre of xianxia is highly relevant to being a n00b Untamed fan, but just any old thing about China is not. A c-drama adapted from a danmei webnovel is perhaps part of the new pantheon of Chinese shit we’re all getting into, but just any old drama from decades ago is probably not... unless it’s a genre precursor to something else we care about. Another aspect here is that while Stuff I Can Access As A N00b Who Doesn’t Speak The Language may be relatively scarce, there’s a vast, vast wealth of stuff that exists.

This is what it felt like to be an anime fan in the US in 2000. As translation got more commercial and more crappy series were licensed and dumped onto an already glutted market, the vibe changed. No longer were fans desperately trying to learn enough of the language to translate or spending their time cataloguing what existed or making fanworks about a show they stuck with for a bit: the overall community focus turned to an endless race of consumption to keep up with all of the latest releases. That’s a perfectly valid way of being fannish, but if I wanted that, I’d binge US television 24/7.

Anime fandom got bigger, but what I liked about anime fandom in English died, and I moved on. (Okay, I first moved on to Onmyouji, which is a live action Japanese thing, but still.)

Hardcore weeaboos and now fans of Chinese and Korean stuff don’t stop at language: people get excited about cooking, my other other great passion. Times a thousand if the canon is something like The Sleuth of the Ming Dynasty, which is full of loving shots of food preparation. People get excited about history! Mandarin and Japanese may share almost nothing in terms of grammar or phonology, but all of East Asia has influence from specific Chinese power centers historically, and there are commonalities to historical architecture and clothing that I love.

I fell out of love with the popular anime art styles as they changed, and I’m not that into animation in general these days. (I still own a shitton of manga in art styles I like, like Okano Reiko’s Onmyouji series.) I’ve become a filmmaker over the last decade, and I’m very excited about beautiful cinematography and editing. With one thing and another, I’m probably not going to get back into anime fandom, but it’s lovely to revisit the cultural aspects I enjoyed about it via live-action media.

BTS surprised me too, to be honest. I really dislike that early 90s R&B ballad style that infests idol music (not just Korean--believe me, I resisted many rounds of “But Johnny’s Entertainment though!” back in the day). While I like some of the dance pop, I just don’t care. But OH NO, BTS turn out to be massive conscious hip hop fanboys, and their music sounds different. I have some tl;dr about my reactions in the meta I wrote about one of my fanvids, which you can find on Dreamwidth here.

But back to your comment about turnover: I know fans from the 70s who’ve had one great fannish love and that’s it and more who were like that but eventually moved on to a second or third. They’re... really fannishly monogamous in a way I find hard to comprehend. It was the norm long ago, but even by the 90s when far more people were getting into fandom, it was seen as a little weird. By now, with exponentially more people in fandom, it’s almost unheard of. I think those fans still exist, even as new people joining, but we don’t notice them. They were always rare, but in the past, only people like that had the stamina to get over the barriers to entry and actually become the people who made zines or were willing to be visibly into fanfic in eras when that was seen as really weird. On top of that, there’s an element of me, us, judging the past by what’s left: only people with an intense and often single passion are visible because other people either drifted away or have seamlessly disappeared into some modern fandom. They don’t say they’re 80 or 60 or 40 instead of 20, so nobody knows.

In general, I’m a small fandoms and rare ships person. My brain will do its best to thwart me by liking whatever has no fic even in a big fic fandom... (Except BTS because there is literally fic for any combination of them, like even more than for the likes of MCU. Wow. Best fandom evar!) So I have an incentive to not get complacent and just stick with one fandom because I would very soon have no ability to be in fandom at all.

My appetite for Consuming All The Things has slowed way down, but it also goes in waves, and a lot of what I’m consuming is what I did back in 2000: journal articles and the limited range of English-language books on the history of m/m sex and romance in East Asia. It’s not so much that I have a million fandoms as that I’m watching a few shows as an expression of my interest in East Asian costume dramas and East Asian history generally.

I do like to sit with one thing and experience it deeply rather than moving on quickly, but the surface expression of this has changed depending on whether I’m more into writing fic or more into doing research or something else.

But yes, I do do a certain amount of trying to stay current, often as a part of research for fandom meta or to help other people know what’s going on. Having a sense of what’s big doesn’t automatically mean getting into all those things, but I think some fans who are older-in-fandom and/or older-in-years stop being open to even hearing what’s new. And if you’ve never heard of it, you’ll never know if you might have liked it.

#fandom meta #fandom history #Anonymous

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jauneda1 · 4 years ago

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RWBY

The New War

Jaune's First solo Mission

One year after the initial attacks

War changed Remnant after the attacks one year ago. The kingdoms are all against each other Vacuo in a constant battle with Vale due to the leaders of Vacuo being taken out by the terrorist group know as the Black mask. They instilled a system in there kingdoms laws that makes it impossible for people to go against the military. Innocent men, women, and children are forced to live in poverty. While the men and women who took their nation get to live without a worry. Until the combined forces of Vale and Atlas military tried to invade and save the once beautiful kingdom. The only problem is that there are Grimm new kinds of Grimm no one has ever seen. Not to mention the White Fang are and still are a threat to both sides. They're force had grown exponentially due to their attacking and ultimate destruction of Mistral and the Huntsman Academy of Haven. Even with all this change and destruction of the peace our heros burst forward in hopes of finally ending this conflict.

Desert's of Vacuo

Jaune had just to touched down on a mountain range, from where the two where standing he could see the inner city, all the way up to around the capital. He wouldn't be able to do much just sitting here. Jaune's mission was simple sneak behind enemy lines and escort and evacuate a defecting White Fang lieutenant, her name is Ilia Amitola and she served directly under commander Adam Taurus. She is a valuable asset to say the least.

In Jaune's ear piece he can hear Raven checking in. She being his main mentor for the past year she would be kind of walking him through this mission of his.

Raven: How is it on your end?

Jaune: Clear. How everyone doing up there?

Raven: Don't worry about that you have a mission. Hop to it reminder you have a limited time window.

Raven: Not to mention this is your first solo mission so stay hidden and try not to cause a scene.

Jaune: You know your to serious about this I'll get in get out and be done. By the way what do we call this mission?

Raven: Jaune you have to be serious if your captured that's it. We can't come and save you. You'll be treated as if your acting on your own terms.

Raven: Ruby and Yang are gonna be heart broken if there best friend doesn't come back. Plus Summer will blame me for the rest of my days.

Jaune: Okay okay. Serious

Jaune took this short moment to remember everything he has learned in the past year. Then the people who are counting on him right now. Blake was the one who begged Ozpin to send someone in. He volunteered he was gonna keep his promises to his friend. It's what Arc's do, they'll never go back on there word.

Jaune: (Inhales) (Exhales)

Jaune: Commencing Virtuous mission now.

The Grimm in the surrounding area of Vacuo where a lot different from any of the ones Jaune is used to seeing. But they are still easy to sneak past especially with the gear Jaune has on.

Jaune: I gotta hand it to the tech guys this is supposed to hide my body heat and give me a near invisible camouflage.

Raven: Well not a hundred percent. It's more to give you the look of transparency but really your suit uses the surrounding area to automatically change and conceal you.

Raven: So don't thinking it'll get you out of trouble all the time.

Raven: Again try not to be seen. The target is supposed to meet you on the south west side of the city.

Jaune: Yeah and that means I need to go through the capitol. Should I plant bugs around or just stick to my main objective?

Raven: Stick to the main objective your on a 2 hour time window.

...

Raven: Jaune?

Everyone in the observation room back at HQ where shocked Jaune had encountered plain of some type of burial site but some of the people hung up on poles are still breathing they are just dehydrated and starved. There were soldiers, civilians, and children. What shocked everyone even Jaune as he can hear Blake shout out over the mic.

Blake: ILIA!

Jaune looked up to one of the poles to see a naked dehydrated and beaten women Jaune could tell she was alive but he wouldn't be able to fulton extract her, not in this condition. So mission complete he'll just call in a chopper and put her on it and do what needs to be done. Jaune wasn't obligated to do what he has intentions on, but if someone doesn't do something to weaken the Forces of Black Mask and White Fang here in Vacuo then the war to reclaim the kingdom will never come.

Jaune: Send in a chopper and make sure medical is on it.

Raven: You got it, Jaune I know what your thinking. Please don't do what your gonna do. Everyone saw your vitals spike.

Raven: But I've known you since you where a boy. I've been like your second mother please be on that chopper when it arrives back at HQ.

Jaune stayed silent and continue to stay silent as he climbed up the pole to cut down and carry Ilia she wasn't making the trip unless he did so. But the reason Jaune kept quiet wasn't because he was worried about what Raven said. It was because if Ilia was secretly defecting from the Fang why was she out here and for how long who knew she was a mole and was trying to defect.

But the answer was a red laser that pointed at Ilia's head. Jaune instinctively got in front of her and a loud shot rang out as it hit Jaune in the back. Jaune at this point was able to jump down and bring Ilia with him to keep her out of harm's way. This was a trap and Jaune had just been caught in it.

Raven: Jaune! Are you okay?

Jaune: Going dark until I can take out this sniper.

Raven: Jaune no your mission is complete you just need to get out of there.

Ruby: No that sniper could bring down the evac chopper.

Yang: So he's forced to deal with the sniper.

Yang: You've got this Jaune.

Jaune: Mhhm.

Two Minutes later.

The sniper was beginning to feel bored. Questions like how long is he gonna sit behind that rock, or is he still there and if so what is his angle. He's stuck and can't move. She then she had an sudden urge to check behind herself as if something that was life threatening to her was right there about to strike. When she looked there was nothing. But then her semblance hit her hard as she was nearly cut in half, she jumped back with a lot of force because she got hit but her gun took the damage.

Looking now it was the man she thinks was behind the rock. But how could that be he was more then 150 meters away he wouldn't have been able to have got this close to her this fast unless he knew where she was the second the bullet went off. It makes sense now the second the laser of the rifle tagged the traitor he glanced back eyes widen and scanning. Remembering it because it was odd he sensed danger evaluated it and reacted in under a second. Not to mention he took a bullet for her. He has aura does that mean he's a Huntsman.

The sniper had little time to think as Jaune's eyes focused and he rushed forward and was now behind her and chopped her in the back of the head knocking her out. Jaune wasn't going to let her live at first but he wants to send a message. After calling for a chopper. Jaune set the female sniper up on the same pole Ilia was left on. Jaune didn't strip her like they did Ilia but he was sure the Vacuen heat would do enough. If she doesn't return they'll come and find her later.

(Jaune's Mind)

"Make better choices next time cutie."

(Ricky)

"She is a liability, can't just let her go."

Jaune: Huh, Raven did you say something?

Raven: No all's quiet on our end.

Jaune had no idea what that was but he gave it little thought as Ilia's condition was worsening. It's a good thing to chopper 31 showed up right then and there. Jaune was gonna be honest Ilia was cute but he needed to make sure she was safe at HQ.

HQ Time 8PM

Ozpin had spoke to Jaune alone about his mission and the two of them where unreachable for an hour. All the while the rest of JNPR and all of team RWBY where bed side of where Ilia was recovering Blake had her friends hand clutched and hoping begging she would fight through this. Jaune had came into the room and seeing the mood of the room. He was sure that Ilia was fighting for her life. But the Arc had other plans he took a bullet to the back of the head for her. She wasn't gonna just die on him after all this work he put into saving her.

Jaune: Yeah no this mood is just not doing it for me.

Jaune: I didn't go through all that for you to just die infront of me.

Jaune put his hand gently against the side of her face giving her some of his kinetic energy. It was enough to boost her aura levels.

Jaune: So sorry but not sorry, your not dying today.

Everyone looked to Jaune everyone except Blake looked to him as the only thing keeping them all going. Jaune just brings light to the darkness wherever he goes. As Ilia's heart beat grew stronger everyone could hear the faint sobbing from Blake till she jumped up and wrapped her arms around Jaune's neck and cried into his shoulder.

(Yang's mind)

"He may be the reason we all keep fighting, but what is his reason. But what is your reason for fighting on Jaune, I know this all has to be effecting you. You don't even come to me anymore. Maybe Lady Killer doesn't need his Dragon anymore? Yeah no that changes tonight."

Jaune was not aware of how much trouble he is in later on tonight.😁

End of part 6

Teams and they're roles

RWBY: Alpha Team

JNPR: Bravo Team

Spies: Blake, Ren, Jaune, and Yang

Spies are top 4 who have high covert ops training, master's at close range and trained directly under Raven and Qrow Branwen. They're main objective is to be ghost in the shadows gathering info and all around espionage tactics.

Solo ops: Jaune, Yang, Blake, and Ren

Solo ops are simply the same as spies but they have been cleared for solo operation. These ops are espionage and covert only. If they are caught on solo ops they will not be given help from any outside options everything is on them.

Omega: Jaune, Yang, Pyrrha, and Ruby

This team is comprised of High-grades only of given orders to take out an entire compound this team makes sure of it. No matter the difficulty they get shit done. Not even they're friends know there mission details only Ozpin and Ironwood know.

#jaune arc #rwby #team rwby #ilia amitola #may zedong #professor ozpin #raven branwen #summer rose #white fang

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desireatmidnight · 3 years ago

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Setting Realistic Goals for your own self-sabotaging Brain

yes, I am starting my first original post like this. yes I know it is kinda cliche for someone to talk about setting goals but this is gonna be different!

Just for some background, Ive been keeping a bullet-journal for at least 4 years. I have never since successfully used a monthly spread in a way that felt like I had actually used it. I am a college student now, so I have allot more things on my plate and a whole lot more free-time interspersed between them. I also have tried out a whole bunch of different spreads. All of them have mostly failed to be really used in a way that mattered. Either I forgot about the spread entirely whenever I got too stressed out, or I never gave myself the right tools to use on the spread for fixing those stresses

So instead of just thinking about what was going wrong and looking for a different spread to try and magically solve my problems; I decided to actually write down what those problems were. Took on of my one of a million copies blue Bic pens that I got as a present ( IE. a disposable non fancy pen) and a scrap piece of paper and started dumping all the reasons I couldn't use it.

Looking through those reasons I could then pinpoint the root cause to my problems, the thing that killed my spreads as soon as I finished making them.

Outside of events scheduled in the future, I had no real reason to use the spread or check it.

See, all of my habit trackers migrated in my weekly spreads around year two of having a bullet journal. I’ve been stuck in a sort of ‘ survive this week’ mode for a long time, so everything I do revolves around my weekly spreads. It was just natural to only track my small habits, like eating twice a day, on my weekly. But that just meant there was nothing left for my monthly spreads. Re-tracking my small habits did nothing for me on a long scale.

So it made me look into how to make this monthly spread more accessible for me, and if it couldn't become accessible, what would replace it’s space and limited functionality.

This is where I go into the meat of why I am making this post, goal tracking is one of the perfect things to track on a monthly spread. Problem being, I have a really hard time setting attainable, do-able goals that work with me versus against me.

So how do I set those goals? By tossing almost everything everyone else had to say about setting goals. Smart random acronyms don't help me identify what goals i need, what does help? Looking for the laughably, smallest achievements I could do in a single day.

Read 5 pages, only 5 pages, a day. Write 200 words a day of anything at all, keep a duolingo streak through the lowest possible daily goal setting.

because guess what, if you do that. If you manage to laugh your way through those 5 pages of whatever book, it doesn't matter what book. those 200 words, even if it is all pre-planning for future writing or just dialogue-outlining? just keeping up with your duolingo streak by doing one lesson a day?

You’ll have read 150-155 pages, written 6000 words, and completed 30-31 lessons in just a month.

None of these tiny goals are difficult to muster. The worst for me is the 200 words. 5 pages is a 10-20 minute task you can do while eating a meal, a duolingo streak you can do walking down the sidewalk between classes.

Easy achievements every day are your bread and butter.

From there you can work outwards, breaking larger chunks of what you want to do into the most insignificant steps possible. Even if that step is “ I got out of bed today” That is still an accomplishment, and achievement, something you have done to make your next step.

Work with yourself, not against. And if something doesnt work, dont get upset, just look at why.

Were you too busy to write 200 words a day? Try 50. Try 25.

#storytellingwithVero #longpost #I just did this strategy and I can tell you it has been the first time I felt acomplished withmyself at all #I will be adding a #follow up post about how this helped me utilize my monthly spread for october more in November.#I am very much a self-saboteur when it comes to the good things in life #No one really gave me advice like this #making things too complicated means im more likely to think I cant do that #SO instead of working against my goblin brain I am going to work with it #I may not be able to write 2000 words a day #but i can write 200 #and oh look at that Ive written 4 pages to a draft ive been working on slowly for years #Possesses an entire small library shelf of interesting old books #never reads them because it feels like too much effort to get comfy to read for long periods of time?#No comfy #only sit and pick one and read 5 pages at a time #and whoops I have read about 2 chapters #Trick yourself into achieving your goals #theres no need to force yourself into neurotypical goal-strategies when your brain dont work like that.

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irishmacguirefucker · 4 years ago

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Home

Or alternatively, Charles Smith loves his new family and would follow arthur anywhere

(4 pages of writing brought 2 u by me blacking out and typing a lot. TW: Hunting, non-descriptive skinning/harvesting of animals, Wolves)

Charles may be a newer member of the gang, but he was there long enough to be just as loyal as any other.

He found a family in these people, brothers and sisters and friends. He would stick with them until the end. An end that seemed to be rapidly approaching.

Charles Smith wouldn't consider himself much of an intellectual, but it doesn't take much to see that the gang life is dying out. As he and Arthur got close, they spoke of it a lot.

Arthur's new focus on treasure hunting was really confusing. For the second time, Arthur asked Charles if they could take a detour on a hunting trip to go find some treasure stash or another that he heard about.

They weren’t exactly in a rush to get back, so Charles didn't exactly have a reason to decline. And Dutch was in a foul mood lately anyway, so maybe coming back with a little treasure might help with that.

So he agreed and followed Arthur and his weird map, all the way up assfuck nowhere Amberino, AKA Coterra Springs.

The whole way there, Arthur seemed off. Neither of them are exactly talkative men, but this wasn't their usual comfortable silence. Arthur barely stopped, not taking the time to comment on landmarks or interesting animals, they even passed a herd of paints and he barely glanced at them.

Getting there was somewhat of a blessing, Arthur seemed happy they had made such good time and immediately wanted to try and find the treasure. Charles had to be the one to pull him back and point out the obvious signs of a wolf pack living nearby.

This seemed to ring a bell in Arthur’s mind, and he pulled out his journal, flipping to the back where he had various maps tucked away. Pulling out his Legendary Animals map, he showed it to Charles. Should they encounter wolves today, they would be dealing with some dangerous ones.

They made a plan, Charles would keep an eye out for movement along the treeline (as well as pull a distracted Arthur away from the geysers), and Arthur would search for the next piece of the Jack Hall Gang's treasure.

(Charles had broken the silence on the way there to ask. “Jack Hall Treasure...as in the gang? What were they doing hiding maps and treasure?”

Arthur responded lowly, not wanting any passersby to hear what they were out for. “Apparently ‘fore they died out, they robbed some banks out in California, ran out here to escape the law. Buried the gold they stole an’ wrote out the maps to find it again, but Hall got his gang killed and arrested with a bad robbery ‘fore they could go back for the money.”

“Huh, some story. Song don’t quite hold up, specially with Sean and Uncle singing it.” Arthur chuckled at that, “Most songs don’t with ‘em.” The break in heavy silence was nice, but short lived as Arthur set back to studying the map.)

Arthur seemed to be getting more and more frustrated with the doodles on the map, trying to compare it to his regular map, and his surroundings. Charles said nothing, focusing on what looked to be shifting forms in the trees, wondering if it was elk or wolves.

By the time he realized it was wolves, it was too late. They had herded the men and their steeds without the knowledge of either. Just as Charles was about to quietly get Arthur’s attention, the man spotted what he was looking for.

“Charles, I think I found the damned treasure!” He said loudly, and pulled out a rattling bag of coins, effectively scaring the nervous horses into rearing and setting off the wolves.

It was a close call, the wolf of legend was massive and more intelligent than the average wolf. The pack was bigger than either of them had seen. A few of them ran off after the fleeing horses and the men could only hope they would be alright as they dealt with the majority of the pack and the biggest of them all.

The wolves seemed to run at them in waves of 3 or 4, always outnumbering the men and getting mighty close to biting distance before they were shot down. It was almost sad, having to take out such a large number of mighty animals, but it was the wolves or them.

Just when the pack seemed to be thinning out enough that they might start to retreat, the massive legendary wolf made his move. He took down Arthur from behind, and it was pure luck that Charles landed a shot through its massive head with his rifle.

The moment the legendary wolf went down, the rest of the wolves seemed to realize they would not be getting their prey and retreated. Several wolves ran back from the direction of the horses and based on the lack of blood covering their muzzles, they were unsuccessful in their pursuit.

Before Charles could even be relieved by the horse's success, Arthur groaned from beneath the massive animal. Charles quickly fell to his knees and dragged the wolf's carcass off Arthur, briefly marvelling at its weight.

Arthur groaned again in relief and heavily pushed himself up into a sitting position. “Christ, I'm too old to be getting knocked down like that. Creature outta be nothin but muscle, taking me down like that.”

Charles laughed, half in relief and half at Arthurs commentary. “He was huge, I’ll give you that. He was likely nearing 150 pounds, very large for a wolf. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, just outta breath. Caught me off guard.”

Charles looked at the bag of gold coins sitting on the ground a few feet away. “Was it worth your treasure?”

Arthur seemed to remember it and quickly reached for the bag, apparently not wanting to get up yet. “Suppose we’re gonna find out.” Inside the bag was another map, that Arthur sighed at, but tucked aside to look at after.

He quickly counted the money. “15 dollars, not quite a damn treasure Hall.”

Charles was confused. They had been finding stashes of money like this for a while and as far as he knew, Dutch was just putting it away and it had barely been spent on anything. “It's not a bad haul Arthur, especially not for us. Why are you so focused on treasure lately? We could earn more if we went back to robbery.”

Not that robbery seemed such a good idea right now, after the mess that chased them out of Valentine. But it would certainly get them a larger haul than chasing ambiguous treasure from a years-old map like pirates.

Arthur was silent for a while, what he was contemplating, Charles had no idea. He seemed to be thinking mighty hard on it though. Finally, he sighed deeply and seemed to make up his mind about something.

“It’s quite the story if you wanna hear it. It's a pretty big secret too, not that I've ever been worried ‘bout you running your mouth or nothin.”

Charles smiled warmly at his friend, attempting to put him at ease. “You don't have to tell me Arthur, but you never have to worry about me sharing secrets with anyone. And we have nothing but time, we’ll be skinning these wolves for a while anyway.”

Arthur sighed before dragging himself to his feet. “Suppose you’re right. Let’s start getting these dogs together and I’ll tell you all about Hosea’s plan.”

Arthur did just that. He told the story from the beginning, every detail he remembered as they carefully skinned the wolves and salvaged what meat they could. Partway through, the horses had found their way back, a little antsy but no worse for wear.

By the time Arthur had explained the entire plan, night had fallen and they were finding a spot to camp. (Away from the spot where they left the stripped carcasses, lest they be attacked by a damn bear in their sleep.)

Charles had a lot of thoughts. The plan itself seemed rather solid and safe, definitely a result of Hosea being the one to make it. He would definitely need some time to think about it before he could make any real comments on it. For now, he could only say; “Certainly explains why Dutch is so irritable lately.”

Arthur laughed loudly, and Charles smiled. Arthur seemed so excited about this plan, happier than he had seemed in the whole of their friendship.

“Yeah, he weren't a fan of our lack of faith...Do you think you’ll go, Charles?”

Now that was quite the question. Such a life wasn’t anything Charles ever thought of as a possibility for himself, though he expects that how most everyone feels about it.

He thought about his family. Not so much his father, but his poor mother. She had always wanted a peaceful life for her family, and he can’t help but think she would have been thrilled at the idea of her son finding a ‘proper’ home after just wandering since he was 13. The lone wolf was never a title she would have wanted for him.

He also thought of the rest of his gang, his new family. He would never say it to her, but he had always hoped that one day Abigail would take her baby and find herself a safer home, he never wanted that boy to end up an orphan like him and many of the other members. Them and everyone else in the gang could be safe and fed and happy, and in a way, he felt he deserved to be a part of it. After being a lone wolf so long, he had earned a home to share with his family.

“I think I will. I’d like to see what it's like to have a real home. I haven't had that since my mother was taken.” He hadn't meant to be so open when he started speaking, but he supposed that Arthur is his closest friend now, so why not.

Arthur seemed surprised at his open words, but it shifted to happiness. “You know, I think that's somethin’ I’d like to try as well.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a while as the fire got properly warm, and Charles couldn't help but notice that this silence felt so different from Arthur’s silence on the way here.

And on their way home, Arthur stopped to study the herd of American paint horses, and Charles knew all was well once more.

#Charles smith #arthur morgan #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #Red Dead Redemption #ranch au #rdr2 ranch au #not technically charthur but like it honestly could be if you want #like i said #i avoid writing in any non canon ships that way people can ship whoever they want in the au #writing #headcanons #im sorry all my writing is in bulletpoint form idk how to not do that #rdr2 ranch #rdr2 au #my au

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joon-ipersgirl · 4 years ago

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O7 - “the promising proposition”

genre: mafia!au, angst, fluff, slow burn, mystery-thriller

pairing: namjoon x reader (f)

word count: 5.1k

warnings: cursing (if i miss any, let me know!)

summary: charismatic. beautiful. fearless without question. the ambitious team of seven young men in charge of spiral, downtown district’s hottest new club go above and beyond to provide 100% satisfaction to their clients.

after an eventful night out, you have no choice but to join the team for property damages greater than your intern salary. challenging a series of events that can no longer be left to coincidence, secrets threaten to burst at the seams as your professional and private life collide, and another - more sinister - debt is added to your total.

how far are you willing to go to pay back your pound of flesh? remember, nothing is ever as it seems...

a/n: it’s been a minute but we’re back! winter break is here and i’m determined to write so here’s part 7 as i still work on my tae halloween fic (whew) and some more holiday related scenarios/oneshots. thank you all for being so patient and i hope you enjoy this next part. i only have one more pre-written part for this story so updates may be even slower lol. as always, send your reactions as they make me super happy lmao. thank you vi for beta-reading this and enjoy everyone!

full masterlist // series masterlist // previous // next

The four of you sit in Manager Kim’s office, tense. Well, three as Paul had ruined his chances during last week’s meeting but you know he can feel the heaviness in the air as you wait for Madeline’s decision. She sits comfortably behind her large desk after calling you in to tell you who’d be assisting her on the Cavallero project. Her large, black fedora is propped on her head at a dangerous angle as she has her feet kicked up on her desk, her signature steel toed boots accentuating her full black outfit. You’d spent the previous days in the breakroom trying to figure out what made this project a higher priority than the rest of the contracts you’d acquired and who would be the lucky winner.

“Lovely of you all to join me, though Paul you were not really needed.” He tries his best to hide behind Laura from Manager Kim’s disappointed stare, but to no avail. “I know you all have been eagerly anticipating which one of you lucky interns will have the privilege of working with me on the first part of the Cavallero contract. You’ll find out shortly as his assistant will be dropping off the final notes on what he expects to see at the event; I’ll send one of you down to fetch him. We’ll have a brief meeting afterwards and then get to work. The rest of you will work under that person, following their orders diligently. Now, I need updates on the rest of our projects. Where are we?”

You barely listen as James rattles off what he was able to accomplish with the Emmerson’s engagement party. You think his design is doable, chic for an event planned in spring, but lacking in some of the finer details you know the future Mrs. Emmerson would appreciate; she’s a woman after your own heart with her love for champagne, meals created by chefs with Michelin stars, and exquisite fine china. Of course Madeline would pit you against each other for this job though. Not that you mind, you’re more than capable of fighting for what you believe is mine. It’s just less work when it’s given to you nicely packaged. Like the gifts you’re sure future Mrs. Emmerson would like to receive from her future husband’s wealthy friends.

“Y/N?” You focus back on Manager Kim who’s waiting expectantly, her glasses slipping down her nose. “The Williams’? What’s going on there? Or have you not made any progress?”

“The Williams have signed off on the zoo theme for their son,” James interjets before you can gather your thoughts. “We’re looking into finding the best face painters in the city and we’ve almost secured a catering contract for the 150 vegan cupcakes Mrs. Williams ordered. The invitations are currently being designed based on the chosen theme and will be ready for client approval next week.”

“Very good, James. Please send me a copy of your notes to be added into the file. Y/N, I expect better from you. That’s everything I have for today. You’re all dismissed,” she finishes with a wave of her hand, her glasses sliding down her nose once again as she searches for one particular document on her desk.

You don’t wait for the rest of them to follow as you make your way back to the tiny cubicle-like room you share. Manager Kim normally never calls you out in front of the rest of them and you’re fuming. Tossing down your legal pad, you whirl around as the three of them enter the room.

“What the fuck, James?!” you hiss as he calmly sits behind his desk and resumes typing on his computer.

“Looks like the Princess is upset,” Paul stage-whispers to Laura as he too sits down. You ignore him. He’s just as irrelevant beforehand as he is now.

“What do you need, Y/N? I have to send the notes from the meeting to Manager Kim,” James responds, not looking up at you. Your face further sours.

“You read my fucking files?! That wasn’t your event to handle and you know that!” you yell.

“Well, you took too long to respond -”

“I had barely opened my mouth -”

“- and Manager Kim needed a response, so I responded,” he finishes, ignoring your outburst.

“Y/N, please calm down. We don’t want to make a scene,” Laura pleads.

“Calm down? Laura, he made me look incompetent,” you argue.

“But you are, Y/N.” You pause and turn to James once again. Disbelief is written across your face as you stare each other down. You were the imcompetent one? “You should be ready to answer any question about any event J&M has going on whether it’s your’s or someone else’s. It’s not my fault that you were never taught the basics of efficiency in a company. The job has to get done and I completed the task. Simple,” he finishes. His incessant typing is all you hear as you stare at him. James had never been this bold before. Especially not with you.

“Watch your mouth, James,” you tell him coolly.

“Furthermore, your failure in that meeting shows that you’re incapable of handling bigger projects. I mean, you couldn’t recall the most straightforward details of a birthday party for a six-year-old child. Why should Manager Kim trust you to work on the coveted Cavallero contract? You’ve given her no reason to. All you’ve done is eliminated yourself from the running, effectively leaving Laura and I. Which is no challenge because - no offense Laura - you’re not really competition. I just hope you guys can maange when my hands are full with this project.”

You laugh as Laura cowers. You weren’t sure whether it was from the sound or James’ particularly harsh words, but the atmosphere in the room was much worse than in the meeting. Biting back the words you really wanted to tell him, you heed Laura’s advice and decide to not cause a scene. This is a professional establishment and you need this job. There are goals you want to accomplish and you wouldn’t let a slimy bastard like James Carter distract you. He’d finally shown his true colors - what he really thought of you - and you’re only grateful the others had been around to witness it.

“Alright, James. It seems like you’ve been holding back on us. Just remember: a word once let out of a cage cannot be whistled back again,” you tell him as you resume your duties at your desk. Flipping open a new page of your legal pad, you write neatly at the top: Emmerson Engagement. If James thought he had bested you, he had another thing coming.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” Laura asks as she joins you in the staff room for lunch.

“Never better,” you reply, sipping on your iced coffee as you warm your leftover lasagna in the microwave. Gods bless your sweet, sweet roommate.

“What James said to you this morning was pretty harsh,” she says as she makes herself a steaming cup of green tea. Always the health conscious one that girl.

“James seems to be tired of our shit,” you chuckle. “I’ve heard worse though, Laura. Don’t worry about me. He said some pretty harsh things about you, too.”

She nods. “I didn’t think he could be so mean! And counting me out?! I worked really hard on my designs!” Laura’s voice doesn’t sound too sure, but you nod in agreeance.

“Your bridal party design last spring was very well done,” you tell her around a mouthful of lasagna.

“Exactly!” she says in a huff as she plops down across from you, nearly burning herself in the process. “And your event was really good too! The one you did a few months ago,” she trails off. You laugh.

“Which one was that?”

“You know, the one for the family with that really fancy theme? And lots of people came...”

“Oh, the Winter Wonderland scene on the ice rink?”

“Yes, that one!” she exclaims.

“That was Marie’s project before she got transferred to Jenson’s team,” you say with a laugh. Laura almost chokes on her tea as you wipe your mouth clean. “No need for you to try and make me feel better by pretending to remember something I’ve worked on. I’m honestly fine,” you chuckle again.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry -”

“Y/N?” James stands in the doorway looking quite displeased. You raise your eyebrows at him in response. “Manager Kim would like to see you in her office. Please make it quick as I’m going to get Mr. Cavallero’s assistant soon.” You laugh loudly.

“Of course, James. I’ll be sure to let Manager Kim know you’d like her to rush her meeting for your convenience.”

He scowls as you brush past him, your half-eaten lunch and coffee in hand. Mercury must be in retrograde for James to think that he can make demands of you any type of way. It seems that you need to put him back in his place; he’d gotten too comfortable with the little office jokes you all shared. Grabbing your legal pad and pen, you smooth down the little flyaway hairs and your white button down shirt; you couldn’t receive another lashing looking unkempt. Knocking on the door, you wait for Manager Kim to answer before you enter.

“You asked to see me, Manager Kim?”

“Yes. Please take a seat, Y/N. I’ll be with you in a second,” she replies as she finishes typing on her computer. You sit gingerly in the unoccupied chair as you’d done this morning and wait for her to rip into you. “Right. Let’s get to it. What was that this morning?” You inhale deeply.

“Honestly, I was thinking about James’ event and mentally noting changes I would make as possible suggestions to him when you called on me. I wasn’t dozing off because I was bored,” you answer.

“Hmm. And what changes would you have made?” she asks curiously as she gives you her undivided attention.

“Well, the future Mrs. Emmerson is a woman of prestige. Class. While roses are a classic choice, white tulips are pre-on-trend and I think she would enjoy being a part of that group. He also chose the Dom Perignon champagne, but I thought Veuve Clicquot would be the better option. High price doesn’t always mean high flavor. I do agree with his choice of venue though. The high ceilings will look great in the low afternoon light and the white lights in the evening will make for great photos,” I finished. “But of course, the client is always right and if this is her chosen design, we’ll go with that.”

Manager Kim stares at you until you start to feel slightly uncomfortable under her gaze. You know you hadn’t overstepped and she had asked for your honest opinion, but when sitting in front of one of the best event designers in the game, second guessing yourself is inevitable.

“You didn’t think to say anything earlier in the meeting?” she asks.

“I wasn’t aware that giving opinions on other people’s events was ideal during a regular updates meeting.”

“You should speak up more. Your ideas aren’t as bad as you think they are,” Madeline says as she leans back in her chair. “How else do you expect to lead any major project?”

Just as you’re going to respond, a knock sounds at the door. “Come in!” Manager Kim yells.

“Should I leave? James did say he was going to collect Mr. Cavallero’s assistant,” you trail off, getting ready to stand.

“No. No, you’re fine,” she says with a wave of her hand. “Ah, Mr. Carlisle - oh! And Mr. Cavallero! What a surprise! I didn’t know you would be joining us,” Manager Kim says as she stands and you follow suit.

“I happened to have some free time and decided to tag along as Lewis was dropping off the notes. I hope you don’t mind. I thought it would be helpful to have me here in case you had any questions that needed direct attention,” Mr. Cavallero responds. “And please, call me Jonas.”

Mr. Cavallero, or Jonas as he would like to be referred to, is dressed in his typical big spender suit: a deep navy blue suit with a pristine white buttoned-down shirt and pre-released Versace patent leather monk strap shoes. His aura fills the entire space, though he only stands in the doorway of Madeline’s office. You can practically feel the gel between your fingers as you look at his salt-and-pepper slicked back hair; the sheen is almost as bright as his shoes.

“And Miss Y/L/N, yes? What a pleasure to see you again. Will you be sitting in on this meeting as well? Lewis could only sing your praises after you left,” he asks. You struggle to keep your face neutral as James’ searing gaze washes over you. You know Manager Kim’s ears must be red as her secretive meeting is foiled by her best client.

“Actually, I was just -”

“- going to bring the file for the event as you were previously suggesting. Right, Y/N?” Manager Kim says as she turns to you with a stiff smile. “You are our chosen intern, afterall.” You can barely contain your gasp as she says the words. You had gotten the contract?! James does not try to hide his shock at her statement as his eyes widen and his mouth nearly falls open.

“It’ll be a pleasure working with you again, Miss Y/L/N,” Mr. Carlisle says with a smile.

“Of course,” you reply with a deep head nod. “I look forward to working with you both as well. I’ll be back with your file shortly.”

“Thank you, Y/N. And thank you James for going to get them. You may leave now,” Manager Kim adds as she turns her attention back to her guests, inviting them to sit and make themselves comfortable.

You walk calmly, though you feel anything but that, across the room as James holds the door open for you. Pleading with the gods to be on your side, you race ahead of him to the breakroom for fresh, new bottles of water - a sight to see in a knee length pencil skirt and the infamous 4-inch stilettos that are apparently still required in this day and age. Your office is filled with hushed whispers until you round the corner and enter the small room.

“You got the Cavallero project?!” Paul exclaims. “Holy shit! You’re better than I thought, Y/N!” You laugh as you search your desk for the copy of the previous plans you’d developed from that day’s secret meeting.

“Congratulations, Y/N!” Laura cheers, bouncing up and down. “Your first real major project. Isn’t that exciting, James?”

“Sure. If you can be happy for someone who fucked her way to get the position,” he says biterrly. “Lewis could only sing your praises after you left?” James scoffs. “Sounds like you worked really hard in that meeting.”

“James!” Laura gasps.

“Oh it’s fine, Laura. If you think that James, I can’t stop you,” you say with a shrug. “But I’ll be happy to discuss my scandalous sex life with you after I meet with our coveted client.”

You prance out of the office with a smug smile on your face. Of course James would resort to a low blow because he didn’t get what he wanted; he was worse than the six-year-old child he had reprimanded you about. Tucking the fake file under your arm as the real one is still in Madeline’s office, you carry the bottles of water back to the meeting. After passing the bottles to your clients, you stand diligently behind Manager Kim with your notepad at the ready.

“Please Miss Y/L/N, take my seat,” Jonas says, standing.

“Oh no, I couldn’t.”

“I insist. I do my best thinking standing up.”

“He does this often in his office,” Lewis agrees. Glancing at Manager Kim, you gingerly sit down on the end of the chair after thanking Jonas again.

“You had mentioned that you enjoyed the designs Y/N had developed, but as you know these are drafts and can be changed as you deem fit, Mr. Cavallero. Are there any things that come to mind or can we work on finalizing these details?” Madeline asks. You watch as Jonas strides around the office, seemingly in thought.

“You proposed hosting the event at one of the upscale hotels downtown, but I was wondering if you had any other options. We want the environment to feel lavish, but not over the top,” he replies. “I was actually thinking of something -” he pauses “ - more intimate.”

Writing down his wishes, you rack your brain for places that fit his description. Most clients of his caliber wanted something extravagant, but Jonas was proving to be a very different man. Quite the surprise that you were not expecting. “Would you like something with more modern architecture or classical?” you ask.

“I have always been a fan of French architecture; the European style also seems to be popular among our own clients. Most of them come from European backgrounds,” Jonas answers.

“They might find the interior design reminiscent,” Madeline thinks aloud and jots it down.

“It could be very good for signing contracts, sir,” Lewis adds.

“I may have a suggestion. Chateau’s is a little outside of the city, but the view is magnificent. It’s family owned so that may benefit you with your clients as well. It also has a rooftop that would look great in the afternoon sun as well as the late evening should the event last longer than expected,” you suggest. “I’ve also read great reviews saying that the food is well prepared too.”

“This could lower your costs for your first event and more money can be reserved for the benefit gala you’re also organizing,” Madeline sneaks in. She’s right, of course. A benefit gala planned by Madeline Kim would require much more than what Mr. Cavallero had said he was okay with spending, but he didn’t need to know that right now.

“Hmm,” he ponders turning around. “This sounds doable. I’d like to see what you can come up with for designs for this new place as well as scheduling a visit to see it for myself. All of this can be done before the initial deadline of securing a venue, yes?”

“Absolutely,” Madeline responds and you keep your composure as you review your mental calendar of events knowing this would be difficult to pull off. Brunch is scheduled a month and a half from today’s date meaning you had to somehow convince Chateau’s to take on your client, create an acceptable menu, and allow you to make any decorating changes within two weeks to make the deadline. Madeline is batshit crazy, but it would have to get done to secure the benefit gala - the whole reason for the company even accepting this contract.

“I can have all the details typed and sent to you within the next week. I’ll also keep the downtown hotel as an option if Chateau's is unavailable for your intended date. I’m sure we can use the rooftop of a hotel to create an intimate setting that your guests would enjoy,” you add. “I would also like to request the location of the benefit gala. I understand this is a very important event for your law firm and I would like to begin drafting plans for your approval at the earliest convenience.”

“Yes, of course. We use the Finca Corte as they have the best grand ballroom in the city. Lewis, please send Miss Y/L/N the past itineraries of the event so she may have a better understanding of the atmosphere we wish to create for our guests.” Lewis nods and makes his own notes, before his wrist watch alarms.

“Ah, Mr. Cavallero. Your 4pm meeting is on time this afternoon. We should leave now so you aren’t late,” Lewis warns. Jonas nods and you all stood to say your goodbyes.

“Please, if you need anything, reach out to Lewis and he’ll get in contact with me so I can answer any of your questions,” Jonas says with a smile as he shakes your hands.

“Of course, Mr. Cavallero. Please feel free to do the same,” Madeline replies though you can hear the tightness in her voice and for the third time, you wonder what her relationship is with Jonas. They had to have had some history for her to always seem on edge in his presence.

“Let me walk you both downstairs,” you offer. J&M isn’t as large as Hastings and Lewis, but there are many twists and turns on each floor that guests could get lost in.

You don’t turn your head as you pass your tiny office space and head for the elevator. You wouldn’t give any of those fuckers your attention in the presence of high quality clientele. It’s cramped inside but not uncomfortable as you ride down from the fourth floor. Jonas turns to you once again as you stand in the lobby.

“Again Miss Y/L/N, if you need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask. Lewis would be happy to answer any of your questions if you can’t get in contact with me,” he says and hands you his business card.

“I actually did have one question before you go. Well two actually. Finca Corte - it isn’t a chain, is it? Just one location?”

“Right. On 17th and Main near the Grande Theatre, but the next block over,” Jonas replies.

“And there’s no need to call and reserve the date? The notes Lewis had given us hadn’t mentioned anything about the date or a deposit,” you state.

“No, the firm takes care of those details. The benefit gala is always reserved for the third Saturday in May every year,” Lewis responds. Three months from now, you think.

“Oh, wonderful. I know you have to get going so I’ll email you any other questions, Lewis. Thank you again. Please return to the firm safely,” you say cheerly and wave. They return it and you wait for them to get into their sleek town car before you let your face fall into a frown. You’d never been to or heard of Finca Corte before, but why did the location seem so familiar? You try not to dwell on it too much as you head back upstairs. There are more pressing matters at hand, like putting James back into the roach-infested place he’d crawled out of. You grin as you head off the elevator.

Rosalia greets you as you enter the old two-bedroom apartment you share. Slipping off your heels that you’re sure has blood crusted into the toes from excessive wear, you scratch behind her ears as she purrs. She’s one of the better things to happen to you in your life and you’re grateful for her little pieces of affection even though you’re positive she had made some attempts to smother you in your sleep so she could have your bed.

“You’re home?” Amaya calls out from her hidden position on the couch.

“Yeah! Did you make dinner?” you ask as you follow your nose to the kitchen where a large pot stews on the stove.

“Of course I did. We all know you’d starve if I didn’t cook,” she says as she bumps you out of the way to check on the food. You mock her as you sit down at the antique metal table that you rarely ate at, choosing to have your meals in the much more comfortable living room on the sofa.

“I could survive!” you yell, trying to defend yourself, but Amaya isn’t having it.

“You couldn’t. Was the lasagna okay today, though?” she asks, changing the subject.

“The best. You should really consider opening a restaurant and forgetting all this computer engineer stuff,” you tell her seriously.

“Ha! As if that would pay off these loans. Either way, this is an investment. Once I’m done with this degree, I’ll be able to program computers to make these dishes for me and rake in a ton of money to get us out of this place,” she says with determination.

Amaya is a third year computer engineering student at Oberman University. Surprisingly smaller than you, she carries as much kick as you do, the two of you getting into numerous instances of mild misdemeanors. Amaya had actually hacked a few systems after she had found out that you weren’t really registered for classes at the University so you could get some credit; she’s a computer genius. Thanks to her, you technically have an Associates degree, but of course Oberman would never grant it to you unless you actually re-enroll. Amaya doesn’t take anyone’s shit though she looks like she’s 12 with her big green eyes and short blunt bob, the bangs a little too long and falling into her eyes.

“Thank you for including me in your plans for world domination, Aya,” you say while taking your hair out of your bun.

“Of course. You know you’re family to me, even though you leave your fucking dishes in the sink,” she replies while placing a piping bowl of beef stew and white rice in front of you. You thank the gods for her as you tuck in, burning your tongue in the process.

“I love you. So, so, so much.”

“Are you talking to me or the stew?” she asks with a laugh as she blows her food to cool it down. You laugh in response. “How was work? Oh my gosh, did you get the project?!”

You grin and nod. “I did!” She squeals in delight and claps her hands. “Though James was extremely displeased. He actually called me incompetent -”

“Hold on. He called you incompetent? Has he seen his progress report? And wasn’t he the one that forgot to submit his file that made that whole project you did a few months ago late?”

“Right. He was so shocked when Madeline announced it was me, even insinuated that I fucked my way to get the position. Kim was heated that Jonas mentioned our meeting while he was in the room though because it was supposed to be a secret,” you explain.

“Of course he would say something like that.” She rolls her eyes. “There seem to be a lot of secrets happening around you. Speaking of which, when do you head back to Spiral to snoop?” Amaya asks. “Do you think you can find anything in the hallway? Maybe you should break into Suga’s office or something,” she suggests.

“Friday night and I don’t think Suga would leave anything lying around like that for me to see again, not after I’m pretty sure he caught me reading his papers a few weeks ago,” you reply, pushing the rice around the plate. That had been extremely careless and might have killed a lead to your mini investigation before it had even begun.

“The one with all that information right? Gosh, I wish you had my photographic brain, that way you could have written down what you had seen and we could solve this whole mystery,” she groans.

“Oh no, Aya. I don’t want you getting involved with this. It seems way too dangerous and you -”

“- have my whole life ahead of me. Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know. But I want to know where this guy went. Like what if he’s still out there and looking for you?” she questions.

“I know, I know. I don’t want you worrying about it though. I can handle it,” you promise. “I feel like I’ve seen the address before though, but I can’t figure out where.” You rub your forehead as if you could magically make the numbers appear in your mind again. Aya’s photographic memory really would have come in handy.

“What about the date?” Amaya asks. “Or the name? You said the name was weird, unusual.” You nod. What had it said?

“There was a date, a location, and a name with an amount of money. Like a contract or something,” you sigh. “It looked really similar to the ones we have at work. Fuck. I don’t know. Between this and planning the benefit gala, my brain feels like it’s going to explode.” Amaya laughs as she finishes her dinner.

“Please don’t hurt yourself. It’ll come to you,” she says, giving your shoulder a squeeze. “Well, I have Calc 3 homework to finish and these theorems won’t do themselves so I’ll see you in the morning. Wash your fucking plate,” she finishes and pointes her finger at you. You hold up your hands in surrender as she leaves hers in the sink for you to clean. It’s the least you can do as she made all your meals.

Grabbing your purse and lugging it behind you after washing the dishes, you head to your room, Rosalia following in tow. Surprisingly, your bed is still intact which means that Amaya had made sure Rosalia hadn’t gotten into your room. Bless her. Not that there was much to get into as you the minimum possessions a person could have: a bed, a few photos, and enough clothes to last you a few weeks without doing laundry. You place your files and notepads onto your bed, eager to go and take a shower before organizing your notes in preparation for the debrief you would no doubt have to give to the rest of your colleagues tomorrow.

“Was your day as long as mine, Rosalia?” You scratch her head as she hops up on your bed and makes herself at home between your papers, a few of them scattering to the floor. “Apparently not as you want to make mine even longer,” you murmur as you bend to pick up the loose sheets of today’s meeting notes from the Cavallero project. You pause.

Jonas. That was the name that was on top of the paper in Suga’s office. What would be the odds that the Jonas on the paper would be the Jonas Cavallero you were working for? If that Jonas was the same Jonas, then was the location on the paper one of the events you were working on? How would Suga have that information? You sit against the side of your bed. Unless -

Yanking your phone out your purse’s side pocket, you google “Hastings & Lewis benefit gala”. Just as you’d suspected, the information is public knowledge: the third Saturday of May at the Finca Corte. There is no way in hell that Spiral is catering that event; they weren’t ritzy enough to be hired by the likes of one of the most expensive hotels in the city for one of the biggest events on the city’s calendar. Something is going on and you just know all of this is connected somehow. You just need proof. Maybe Maya is right. You’d broken into a few places before. How hard could it be to get into Suga’s office?

full masterlist // series masterlist // previous // next

#bts fanfction #namjoon x reader #namjoon fanfic #bts mafia au #bts fanfic #fic: double entendre

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fan-imagines · 5 years ago

Text

Salvatores~Sister

MASTERLIST

Salvatores x FemReader

Synopsis - Your brothers die while you’re at school. You go back home an get turned. 150 years later, you reunite with Damon, then Stefan.

Word Count - 1.2k+

**Warnings** none

~1860~

‘’Goodbye, Stefan. Goodbye, Damon.’’ I hug each one of them in turn. My father decided that he was going to send me to finishing school a few towns over. He hasn’t really known how to care for me since mother died. I figured that it would be better for me there, so I wasn’t too upset when he didn’t consult me in his decision. I can still write to Stefan and Damon every week, and see them multiple times a year for holidays. My carriage comes and I wave at my family one more time before I get in and leave.

I finally make it too the school after a long ride. The head mistress shows me to my room, and introduces me to my room girl. I settle in, happy about where I am, but still a little sad that I am not bel to see my family more often.

~~~~

I make it back to my room after home skills and advantages class. I’ve been here for two months now, and it’s been going very well. I sit ono my bed, when someone quickly runs in, and hands me a letter.

‘’I’m sorry.’’ She says to me before disappearing back out into the hallway. I look at the note confused. What could be so bad?

Dearest Y/n,

I offer my deepest condolences, and I regret to inform you that your brothers were shot. They both passed away soon after. We haven’t been able to locate their bodies, but bystanders are positive it was them. Your father, as well, has sadly passed. We found him mutilated in him home by animal. We are not sure how this happened, but we are never resting until we find those boys and figure out what happened to you father. We are going to send a carriage for you on October 2 so you can make peace and an appearance. When you come back, go to your home, and there should be someone waiting to give you instructions and guidance on how to proceed. Once more, Y/n, we are very sorry for your losses.

I slowly raise my head from the note that is now covered with my tears that fell from my eyes. My whole family is now dead. I have no one to go home to. No one to celebrate Christmas or Thanksgiving with. No one to guide me and enjoy the rest of my life with. I’m all alone.

~~~~ Two years ago, I received that letter. I went home for the funerals for all three of my family members. I stayed near Mystic Falls; I never went back to the boarding school. I don’t live in my old house because there are too many reminders of the people who were taken from me. I live close by to visit their graves, but I can’t live in that house even though it was left to me. Everyone near my town heard the news and they always asked me how I was doing, if I was okay. I would smile and nod, but in my head, I scream for them to leave me alone and not bring it up every time they see me.

To forget my turmoil, I met someone. A man. He’s twenty-three compared to me, being seventeen. He helps me forget about everything that has happened to me when I’m with him.

~~~

‘’Hello, Philip.’’ I say to him as I walk into his house and sit next to him.

‘’Hello, Y/n. I want you to try something with me, please.’’ He hands me a glass with a crimson red liquid in it.

‘’What is this?’’ I question with disgust laced in my voice.

‘’It’s alright. Just drink it, darling.’’ He looks into my eyes, and I suddenly really want to drink it. I nod, and take a sip. I shy away at the copper taste, but swallow it anyway.

‘’Philip, what is that?’’ I place the cup down, not wanting to drink anymore.

‘’It’s my blood.’’ He answers nonchalantly, and come closer to me.

‘’Your, your blood?’’ I shout at him. He nods, and grabs my head in a swift motion. Before I can say anything or even comprehend what is happening, he jerks it to the side and my world goes black. I wake up what seems like minutes later, but it’s dark outside, so I know it’s far later. I look around to see no one in the room. I scrunch my eyes in confusion as to where Philip’s whereabouts are.

Philip is pushed out of my mind when I feel a terrible ache in my gums, and a hankering hunger for something that’s not food. I hear someone speak, and I turn my head as if they are right next to me. There is no one here, so how can I hear them? I can hear their heartbeat. I can hear their blood. I get up and run to the person, thankfully they are by themselves. I stop for a second, wondering what I am doing. Why do I want to kill them? But then I hear their blood pumping, and I can't help it. I go over to them and bite their neck, draining them of all their blood in seconds.

What is this? What did I just do? Did I kill them? What am I? Where is Philip? He did this to me, but what did he did?

~~~~~

150 years later

~~~~~

I walk through my old hometown of Mystic Falls. I’ve only been in this town twice since I was turned into a vampire. There are too many bad memories of this place. I make it a bar that wasn’t there before, call Mystic Grill. I sit at the bar and order a bourbon with a lime on the side. I show them my fake ID and if that doesn’t work, I usually compel whoever is bartending. The blond boy, who doesn’t look old enough to work at a bar, gives it to me. I thank him, and sip on it. I hear three people come into the Grill. One of them comes next to me, and I turn to look at the back of his head. He has raven hair, but I can’t see anything else. He also orders a bourbon from the blond boy.

‘’Damon, have you talked to Elena at all today? She wasn’t at school.’’ the bartender asks. I can’t help but listen to their conversation as they are right next to me.

‘’She was at the house with Stefan this morning. I don’t keep a hold on her, Donovan.’’ He says. I blink and my eyes widen. Stefan and Damon. That can’t just be a coincidence, can it? Before the boy can say anything else, I intrude.

‘’Excuse me, is you last name by chance, Salvatore.’’ I ask him before he turns around. Once he’s facing me, I am met with the face of my eldest brother, Damon.

‘’Well, who’s asking?’’

‘’Me.’’ I deadpan, not playing into his cool boy ways. I’m still shocked that my brothers are alive. There has to be logical explanation.

‘’Sorry sweetheart. I don’t answer to you.’’ He says and turns back around to the people he came in with. I try to think of something that make him remember that it is me. Suddenly, I think of something we would always say when we would play in the yard together back home.

‘’Nah nana boo boo! I win you lose. Nah nana boo boo, you smell like poo.’’ I chuckle at our old saying. He freezes the motion of him bringing the bourbon to his lips. He turns to me again, and looks into my eyes, trying to make sure that’s it’s me. He smiles at me in disbelief.^^^ I see tears come to his eyes.

‘’Little, Y/n/n?’’ I nod at him, and he pulls me into a bone-crushing hug. ‘’But how?’’ He asks while hugging me.

''I'll let you know about everything, but first, can I see Stefan?'' I ask. He nods and we walk out of the bar after paying for the drinks. My family is alive.

‘’I’ll fill you in about everything. I’ll tell you everything. But first, can I see Stefan?’’ He nods, and we walk out of the bar after paying for the drinks and saying goodbye to Damon’s friends. I can’t help but smile all the way to my house.

~~~~

We walk up the gravel leading to the Salvatore house, and I lightly smile at the familiarity. I haven’t been here since the funerals. That was so long ago.

‘’I see you both chose to stay in our childhood home.’’ I say to Damon. He nods and we walk up to the door.

‘’I’m going to knock while you hide behind me so we can surprise, Stefan. I’m so excited for him to see you. He’ll be jealous that I saw you first, but he’s used to it. I know I'm your favorite.’’

I chuckle, and nod, ‘’Don’t tell him that.’’ Damon smirks at me, and knocks on the door. I zone in my hearing, and listen to the footsteps coming to the door before it is opened.

‘’Damon? Why are you knocking on the door? This is your house.’’ Stefan says somewhat annoyed.

‘’I didn't want to just walk in when I have amazing news.’’ Damon says.

‘’What news, Damon?’’ He sighs. To this, I step out from my hiding and smile at Stefan.

‘’Surprise!’’ He looks at me confused.

‘’I’m sorry. Who are you?’’

‘’You and Damon are so slow. You don’t even recognize your gorgeous, amazing, awesome, baby sister.’’ I chuckle at him. He still looks confused, but I see the pieces coming together in his head.

‘’Y/n? That’s you?’’ I nod and the emotions finally hit me. Tears fall from my eyes and down my face. Damon steps out of the way so Stefan can hug me. I’m hugging my brother. The brother who I thought died in 1864 from a gunshot. I can’t even fathom how happy and content I am.

‘’How are you here?’’ He pulls away from me. I let my vamp face show, exposing the veins in my face, and he nods. Both him and Damon do the same.

‘’It’s a long story. I need a drink and to sit in my home.’’ Damon smirks and wraps his arm around my shoulder and we try to go inside when I am hindered by the magic stopping vampires from going where they haven't been invited in.

‘’Oh, Elena is here. She can let you in.’’ Stefan suggests.

‘’Elena!’’ Damon shouts up the stairs. I see a girl who looks just like Katherine come down the stairs. I read about her after my brothers died. Damon and Stefan sent me letters about here. Talking about how much they both loved her. I don’t like the way she treated and manipulated my brothers. I’m assuming she’s the one that got them killed in the first place

‘’Really, brothers? You didn’t learn from your first Katherina? Yeah, I know.’’ Their faces look at me as if I shouldn’t know who she is.

‘’I’ll have you know I am not Katherine. Who even is she anyway?’’ She asks, and glares at me.

‘’Her name is Y/n. Now, let her in, Elena.’’ Stefan says.

‘’Why should I?’’

‘’Because, Elena, this is my house, and I haven’t been here in one-hundred-and-fifty years. You own nothing here except maybe my brother’s heart. Now, I would really appreciate id you would do me the grand honor of letting me inside my own house.’’ I smile sweetly at her sarcastically. Damon lightly chuckles and smirks at my snarkiness I learned from him.

‘’Would you like to come in?’’ She returns almost as sarcastic. I thank her and walk past her to the living room. Stefan and Damon sit next to me, ready for me to tell them what happened.

‘’When you both ‘died’, I came home to the funeral the people in our town funded and planned. I never went back to that school. I kind of just floated around place to place that was somewhat near here. So I could visit you both and father at the cemetery. When I was seventeen, I met someone. His name was Philip. He was twenty-three at the time, he was just someone to distract me.’’ I am about to continue when I am interrupted by Elena’s voice.

‘’Sounds pretty desperate if you ask me.’’

‘’Thankfully I didn’t.’’ I cut her off. I grab a bottle of bourbon from the table behind the couch. I take a drink of it and continue talking.

‘’He gave me his blood and compelled me to drink it. I drank it willingly, not knowing what it was. I asked him, he told me, then he snapped my neck. I woke up with a hunger and enhanced senses. I was confused, I could hear someone’s heart beating. I killed them. I’ve been a vampire since then, but I don’t drink fresh. Usually bagged, or animals.’’

‘’So, you were just turned by some random guy?’’ Damon asks, looking like he wants to kill someone.

‘’Yes, but back then he wasn’t just a guy. He was someone that made me feel better about my situation. About my life. Having a dead mom, dead dad, and two dead brothers. He made me forget about all that. He made me feel mature, and safe with him.’’

‘’How old are you now, Y/n?’’ Stefan asks me.

‘’I was turned when I was seventeen and I was turned in 1866. So, whatever that math it. I don’t keep track. Never really celebrate birthdays because I have no one to celebrate with.’’ I take another swig of bourbon, feeling burn my throat.

‘’Well, now you do. I want you to meet our friends. You’ve already met Elena, but we’ll introduce you to the others.’’ Damon tells me.

‘’I would like that very much.’’ I say to the both of them and we continue to talk with each other about anything and everything. Catching up on our missed years.

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arcticdementor · 3 years ago

Link

Stefanie Gray explains why, as a teenager, she was so anxious to leave her home state of Florida to go to college.

“I went to garbage schools and I’m from a garbage low-income suburb where everyone sucks Oxycontin all day,” she says. “I needed to get out.”

She got into Hunter College in New York, but both her parents had died and she had nowhere near enough to pay tuition, so she borrowed. “I just had nothing and was poor as hell, so I took out loans,” she says.

This being 2006, just a year after the infamous Bankruptcy Bill of 2005 was passed, she believed news stories about student loans being non-dischargeable in bankruptcy. She believed they would be with her for life, or until they were paid off.

“My understanding was, it’s better to purchase 55 big-screen TVs on a credit card, and discharge that in a court of law, then be a student who’s getting an education,” she says.

Still, she asked for financial aid: “I was like, ‘My parents are dead, I'm a literal fucking orphan, I have no siblings. I'm just taking out this money to put my ass through school.”

Instead of a denial, she got plenty of credit, including a slice of what were called “direct-to-consumer” loans, that came with a whopping 14% interest rate. One of her loans also came from a company called MyRichUncle that, before going bankrupt in 2009, would briefly become famous for running an ad disclosing a kickback system that existed between student lenders and college financial aid offices.

Gray was not the cliché undergrad, majoring in intersectional basket-weaving with no plan to repay her loans. She took geographical mapping, with the specific aim of getting a paying job quickly. But she graduated in the middle of the post-2008 crash, when “53% of people 18 to 29 were unemployed or underemployed.”

“I couldn't even get a job scrubbing toilets at a local motel,” she recalls. “They told me straight up that I was over-educated. I was like, “Literally, I'll do your housekeeping. I don't give a shit, just let me make money and not get evicted and end up homeless.”

The lender Sallie Mae at the time had an amusingly loathsome policy of charging a repeating $150 fee every three months just for the privilege of applying for forbearance. Gray was so pissed about having to pay $50 a month just to say she was broke that she started a change.org petition that ended up gathering 170,000 signatures.

She personally delivered those to the Washington offices of Sallie Mae and ended up extracting a compromise out of the firm: they’d still charge the fee, but she could at least apply it to her balance, as opposed to just sticking it in the company’s pocket as an extra. This meager “partial” victory over a student lender was so rare, the New York Times wrote about it.

“I definitely poked the bear,” she says.

Gray still owed a ton of student debt — it had ballooned from $36,000 to $77,000, in fact — and collectors were calling her nonstop, perhaps with a little edge thanks to who she was. “They were telling me I should hit up people I know for money, which was one thing,” she recalls. “But when they started talking about giving blood, or selling plasma… I don’t know.”

Sallie Mae ultimately sued Gray four times. In doing so, they made a strange error. It might have slipped by, but for luck. “By the grace of God,” Gray said, she met a man in the lobby of a courthouse, a future state Senator named Kevin Thomas, who took a look at her case. “Huh, I’ve got some ideas,” he said, eventually pointing to a problem right at the top of her lawsuit.

Sallie Mae did not represent itself in court as Sallie Mae. The listed plaintiff was “SLM Private Credit Student Loan Trust VL Funding LLC.” As was increasingly the case with mortgages and other forms of debt, student loans by then were typically gathered, pooled, and chopped into slices called tranches, to be marketed to investors. Gray, essentially, was being sued by a tranche of student loan debt, a little like being sued by the coach section of an airline flight.

When Thomas advised her to look up the plaintiff’s name, she discovered it wasn’t registered to do business in the State of New York, which prompted the judge to rule that the entity lacked standing to sue. He fined Sallie Mae $10,000 for “nonsense” and gave Gray another rare victory over a student lender, which she ended up writing about herself this time, in The Guardian.

Corporate creditors often play probabilities and mass-sue even if they don’t always have great cases, knowing a huge percentage of borrowers either won’t show up in court (as with credit card holders) or will agree to anything to avoid judgments, the usual scenario with student borrowers.

“What usually happens in pretty much 99% of these cases is you beg and plead and say, ‘Please don't put a judgment against me, I'll do anything… because a judgment against you means you're not going to be able to buy a home, you’re not going to be able to do basically anything involving credit for the next 20 years.”

…

The passage of the Bankruptcy Abuse Prevention and Consumer Protection Act of 2005 was a classic demonstration of how America works, or doesn’t, depending on your point of view. While we focus on differences between Republicans and Democrats, it’s their uncanny habit of having just a sliver of enough agreement to pass crucial industry-friendly bills that really defines the parties.

Whether it’s NAFTA, the Iraq War authorization, or the Obama stimulus, there are always just enough aisle-crossers to get the job done, and the tally usually tracks with industry money with humorous accuracy. In this law signed by George Bush, sponsored by Republican Chuck Grassley, and greased by millions in donations from entities like Sallie Mae, the crucial votes were cast by a handful of aisle-crossing Democrats, including especially the Delawareans Joe Biden and Tom Carper. Hillary Clinton, who took $140,000 from bank interests in her Senate run, had voted for an earlier version.

Party intrigue is only part of the magic of American politics. Public relations matter, too, and the Bankruptcy Bill turned out to be the poster child for another cherished national phenomenon: the double-lie.

…

Years later, pundits still debate whether there really ever was an epidemic of debt-fleeing deadbeats, or whether legislators in 2005 who just a few years later gave “fresh starts” to bankrupt Wall Street banks ever cared about “moral hazard,” or if it’s fair to cut off a single Mom in a trailer when Donald Trump got to brag about “brilliantly” filing four commercial bankruptcies, and so on.

In other words, we argue the why of the bill, but not the what. What did that law say, exactly? For years, it was believed that it absolutely closed the door on bankruptcy for whole classes of borrowers, and one in particular: students. Nearly fifteen years after the bill’s passage, journalists were still using language like, “The bill made it completely impossible to discharge student loan debt.”

…

The phrase “Just asking questions” today often carries a negative connotation. It’s the language of the conspiracy theorist, we’re told. But sometimes in America we’re just not told the whole story, and when the press can’t or won’t do it, it’s left to individual people to fill in the blanks. In a few rare cases, they find out something they weren’t supposed to, and in rarer cases still, they learn enough to beat the system. This is one of those stories.

…

Smith’s explanation of the history of the student loan exemption and where it all went wrong is biting and psychologically astute. In his telling, the courts’ historically sneering attitude toward student borrowers has its roots in an ages-old generational debate.

“This started out as an an argument between the Greatest Generation and Baby Boomers,” Smith notes. “A lot of the law was created by people railing against draft-dodging deadbeat hippies.”

He points to a 1980 ruling by a judge named Richard Merrick, who in denying relief to a former student, wrote the following:

The arrogance of former students who had received so much from society, frequently including draft deferment, and who had given back so little in return, accompanied by their vehemence in asserting their constitutional and statutory rights, frequently were not well received by legislators and jurists, senior to them, who had lived through the Depression, had worked their ways through college and graduate school, had served in World War II, and had been paying the taxes which made possible the student loans.

Smith laughs about this I didn’t climb the hills at Normandy with a knife in my teeth just to eat the debt on your useless-ass liberal arts degree perspective, noting that “when those guys who did all that complaining went to school, only rich prep school kids went to college, and by the way, tuition was like ten bucks.” Still, he wasn’t completely unsympathetic to the conservative position.

…

This concern about “deadbeats” gaming the system — kids taking out fat loans to go to school and bailing on them before the end of the graduation party — led that 1985 court to take a hardcore position against students who made “virtually no attempt to repay.” They established a three-pronged standard that came to be known as the “Brunner test” for determining if a student faced enough “undue hardship” to be granted relief from student debt.

Among other things, the court ruled that a newly graduated student had to do more than demonstrate a temporary inability to handle bills. Instead, a “total incapacity now and in the future to pay” had to be present for a court to grant relief. Over the course of the next decades, it became axiomatic that basically no sentient being could pass the Brunner test.

…

In 2015, he was practicing law at the Texas litigation firm Bickel and Brewer when he came across a case involving a former Pace University student named Lesley Campbell, who was seeking to discharge a $15,000 loan she took out while studying for a bar exam. Smith believed a loan given out to a woman who’d already completed her studies, and who used the money to pay for rent and groceries, was not covering an “educational benefit” as required by law. A judge named Carla Craig agreed and canceled Campbell’s loan, and Campbell v. Citibank became one of the earlier dents in the public perception that there were no exceptions to the prohibition on discharging student debts.

“I thought, ‘Wait, what? This might be important,’” says Smith.

By law, Smith believed, lenders needed to be wary of three major exceptions to the non-dischargeability rule:

— If a loan was not made to a student attending a Title IV accredited school, he thought it was probably not a “qualified educational loan.”

— If the student was not a full-time student — in practice, this meant taking less than six credits — the loan was probably dischargeable.

— And if the loan was made in an amount over and above the actual cost of attending an accredited school, the excess might not be “eligible” money, and potentially dischargeable.

Practically speaking, this means if you got a loan for an unaccredited school, were not a full-time student, or borrowed for something other than school expenses, you might be eligible for relief in court.

Smith found companies had been working around these restrictions in the blunt predatory spirit of a giant-sized Columbia Record Club. Companies lent hundreds of thousands to teenagers over and above the cost of tuition, or to people who’d already graduated, or to attendees of dubious unaccredited institutions, or to a dozen other inappropriate destinations. Then they called these glorified credit card balances non-dischargeable educational debts — Gray got one of these “direct-to-consumer” specials — and either sold them into the financial system as investments, borrowed against them as positive assets, or both.

…

Smith thought these practices were nuts, and tried to convince his bosses to start suing financial companies.

“They were like, ‘You do know what we do around here, right?’ We defend banks,” he recalls, laughing. “I said, ‘Not these particular banks.’ They said it didn’t matter, it was a question of optics, and besides, who was going to pay off in the end? A bunch of penniless students?”

Furious, Smith stormed off, deciding to hang his own shingle and fight the system on his own. “My sister kept saying to me, ‘You have to stop trying to live in a John Grisham novel,’” he recalls, laughing. “There were parts of it where I was probably super melodramatic, saying things like, ‘I'm going to go find justice.’”

Slowly however, Smith did find clients, and began filing and winning cases. With each suit, he learned more and more about student lenders. In one critical moment, he discovered that the same companies who were representing in court that their loans were absolutely non-dischargeable were telling investors something entirely different. In one prospectus for a trust packed full of loans managed by Sallie Mae, investors were told that the process for creating the aforementioned “direct-to-consumer” loans:

Does not involve school certification as an additional control and, therefore, may be subject to some additional risk that the loans are not used for qualified education expenses… You will bear any risk of loss resulting from the discharge.

Sallie Mae was warning investors that the loans might be discharged in bankruptcy. Why the honesty? Because the parties who’d be packaging and selling these student loan-backed instruments included Credit Suisse, JP Morgan Chase, and Deutsche Bank.

“It’s one thing to lie to a bunch of broke students. They don’t matter,” Smith says. “It’s another to lie to JP Morgan Chase and Deutsche Bank. You screw those people, they’ll fight back.”

…

In June of 2018, a case involving a Navy veteran named Kevin Rosenberg went through the courts. Rosenberg owed hundreds of thousands of dollars and tried to keep current on his loans, but after his hiking and camping store folded in 2017, he found himself busted and unable to pay. His case was essentially the opposite of Brunner: he clearly hadn’t tried to game the system, he made a good faith effort to pay, and he demonstrated a long-term inability to make good. All of this was taken into consideration by a judge named Cecilia Morris, who ruled that Rosenberg qualified for “undue hardship.”

“Most people… believe it impossible to discharge student loans,” Morris wrote. “This Court will not participate in perpetuating these myths.” The ruling essentially blew up the legend of the unbeatable Brunner standard.

Given a fresh start, Rosenberg moved to Norway to become an Arctic tour guide. “I want people to know that this is a viable option,” he said at the time. The ruling attracted a small flurry of news attention, including a feature in the Wall Street Journal, as the case sent a tremor through the student lending world. More and more people were now testing their luck in bankruptcy, suing their lenders, and asking more and more uncomfortable questions about the nature of the education business.

In the summer of 2012, a former bond trader named Michael Grabis sat in the waiting room of a Manhattan financial company, biding time before a job interview. In the eighties, Grabis’s father was a successful bond trader who worked in a swank office atop the World Trade Center, but after the 1987 crash, the family fell out of the smart set overnight. His father lost his job and spiraled, his mother had to look for a job, and “we just became working class people.”

Michael tried to rewrite the family story, going to school and going into the bond business himself, first with the Bank of New York, and eventually for Schwab. But he, too, lost his job in a crash, in 2008, and now was trying to break the pattern of bubble economy misery. However, he’d exited Pennsylvania’s Lafayette College in the nineties carrying tens of thousands in student loans. That number had since been compounded by fees and penalties, and the usual letters, notices, and phone calls from debt collectors came nonstop.

Now, awaiting a job interview, his phone rang again. It was a collection call for Sallie Mae, and it wasn’t just one voice on the line.

“They had two women call at once,” Grabis recalls. “They told me I’d made bad life choices, that I lived in too expensive a city, that I had to move to a cheaper place, so I could afford to pay them,” Grabis explains. “I tried to tell them I was literally at that moment trying to get a job to help pay my bills, but these people are trained to just hound you without listening. I was shaking when I got off the phone, and ended up having a bad interview.”

Two years later, more out of desperation and anger than any real expectation of relief, Grabis went to federal court in the Southern District of New York and filed for bankruptcy. At the time, he, too, believed student loans could not be eliminated. But the more he read about the way student loans were constructed and sold — he’d had experience in doing shovel-work constructing mortgage-backed securities, so he understood the Student Loan Asset-Backed Securities (SLABS) market — he started to develop a theory. Everyone dealing with the finances of higher education in America knew the system was rotten, he thought. But what if someone could prove it?

The 2005 Bankruptcy Act says former students can’t discharge loans for “qualified educational expenses,” i.e. loans given to students so that they might attend tax-exempt non-profit educational institutions. Historically, that exemption covered almost all higher education loans.

What if America’s universities no longer deserve their non-profit status? What if they’re no longer schools, and are instead first and foremost crude profit-making ventures, leveraging federal bankruptcy law and the I.R.S. code into a single, ongoing predatory lending scheme?

This is essentially what Grabis argued, in a motion filed last January. He named Navient, Lafayette College, the U.S. Department of Education, Joe Biden, his own exasperated judge, and a host of other “unknown co-perpetrators” as part of a scheme against him, claiming the entirety of America’s higher education business had become an illegal moneymaking scam.

“They created a fraud,” he says flatly.

…

Grabis doesn’t have a lawyer, his case has been going on for the better part of six years, and at first blush, his argument sounds like a Hail Mary from a desperate debtor. The only catch is, he might be right.

By any metric, something unnatural is going on in the education business. While other industries in America suffered declines thanks to financial crises, increased exposure to foreign competition, and other factors, higher education has grown suspiciously fat in the last half-century. Tuition costs are up 100% at universities over and above inflation since 2000, despite the 2008 crash, with some schools jacking up prices at three, four times the rate of inflation dating back to the seventies.

Bloat at the administrative level makes the average university look like a parody of an NFL team, where every brain-dead cousin to the owner gets on the payroll. According to Education Week, “fundraisers, financial aid advisers, global recruitment staff, and many others grew by 60 percent between 1993 and 2009,” which is ten times the rate of growth for tenured faculty positions.

…

Hovering over all this is a fact not generally known to the public: many American universities, even ones claiming to be broke, are sitting atop mountains of reserve cash. In 2013, after the University of Wisconsin blamed post-crash troubles for raising tuition 5.5%, UW system president Kevin Reilly in 2013 admitted that the school actually held $638 million in reserve, separate and distinct from the school endowment. Moreover, Reilly said, other big schools were doing the same thing. UW’s reserve was 25% of its operating budget, for instance, but the University of Minnesota’s was 29%, while Illinois maintained a whopping 34% buffer.

When Alan Collinge of Student Loan Justice looked into it, he found many other schools were sitting atop mass reserves even as they pleaded poverty to raise tuition rates. “They’re all doing it,” he said.

In the mortgage bubble that led to the 2008 crash, financiers siphoned fortunes off home loans that were unlikely to be repaid. Student loans are the same game, but worse. All the key players get richer as that $1.7 trillion pile of debt expands, and the fact that everyone knows huge percentages of student borrowers will never pay is immaterial. More campus palaces get built, more administrators get added to payrolls, and perhaps most importantly, the list of assets grows for financial companies, whether or not the loans perform.

…

“As long as it’s collateralized at Navient, they can borrow against that,” Smith says. “They say, ‘Look, we've got $3 billion in assets, which are just consumer loans in negative amortization that are not being repaid, but are being artificially kept out of default so Navient can borrow against that from other banks.

“When I realized that, I was like, ‘Oh, my god. They’re happy that the loans are growing instead of being repaid, because it gives them more collateral to borrow against.’” Smith’s comments echo complaints made by virtually every student borrower in trouble I’ve ever interviewed: lenders are not motivated to reduce the size of balances by actually getting paid. Instead, the game is about keeping loans alive and endlessly growing the balance, through new fees, penalties, etc.

There are two ways of approaching reform of the system. One is the Bernie Sanders route, which would involve debt forgiveness and free higher education. A market-based approach meanwhile dreams of reintroducing discipline into student lending; if students could default, schools couldn’t endlessly raise costs on the back of unlimited government-backed credit.

Which idea is more correct can be debated, but the one thing we know for sure is that the current system is the worst of both worlds, enriching all the most undeserving actors, and hitting that increasingly prevalent policy sweet spot of privatized profit and socialized risk. Whether it gets blown up in bankruptcy courts or simply collapses eventually under its own financial weight — there’s an argument that the market will be massively disrupted if and when the administration ends the Covid-19 deferment of student loan payments — the lie can’t go on much longer.

“It’s just obvious that this has become a printing money operation,” says Grabis. “The colleges charge whatever they want, then they go to the government and continuously increase the size of the loans.” If you’re on the inside, that’s a beautiful thing. What about for everyone else?

#matt taibbi #substack #long #read the whole thing #student loans #student loan debt

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thecandywrites · 4 years ago

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Jewel Of The North Part 11

Woo, this was so much fun. Karma begins to sink her teeth into Alorna and Doug. Meanwhile Noah and our dear reader Zara draw closer and closer. Que- Lady in Red.

Many thanks to @monstersandmaw for sharing ice orcs with me. I am having a blast. Enjoy.

Jewel Of The North

Part 11

The next morning, you accidentally slept in because you were up half the night getting some of the best sex of your life and reconciling with Noah and having the best heart to heart while you were fucking the other’s brains out and this morning you felt like you were running around like a chicken with your head cut off trying to get ready on time and Noah walked you to the spa himself and you weren’t five steps from it before you saw Alorna and Doug at the counter, getting last minute upgrades on their services and about to go into it and both you and Noah stopped dead in your tracks and gasped and squeezed the other’s hand tightly and you doing that made Alorna and Doug turn around to look and one look made them freeze and breathe in tightly and the looks on their faces were priceless as they looked like they both had been caught with their pants down as both you and Noah quickly got your phones out and got pictures of them, together for proof of where they were and why the couldn’t be found back on the mainland.

And seeing them, you and Noah looked at each other before looking back at them and started busting out laughing and pointing because the odds of the four of you meeting back up, let alone like this- was astronomical. So it was either by fate that you met or by the craziest coincidence. Yesterday you would have wanted to beat them both to a pulp. Today- though, you didn’t care. You had your family and a clean conscience and you knew they couldn’t boast of that last one and you knew Karma was about to bite them in the ass and you knew that justice was coming for them and for you.

“Oh my gods, you left John for Doug?” Noah asked his sister.

“What if I did?” Alorna shirked with a shrug.

“I mean you’re a stupid, faithless bitch either way and incase you missed it, I officially disown you. By the way, since you seem to have been ignoring your phone, I think you should know I got a text from your soon to be ex husband, telling me that you had skipped out of town on a cruise and he officially called all his credit cards that you have- in as stolen and cancelled your check card and kicked you off the checking account at the bank. And his lawyer is expediting your divorce and all your stuff is at the community center and that he changed the locks on the doors. But at least he left you your car.” Noah informed her as he pulled up his text from John on his phone and read it off to her.

“What?” Alorna blanched as she came over to look at his phone to read it herself.

“Even if that’s true, Sweetheart, you can move all your things in with me.” Doug offered Alorna which made her beam smugly at her brother.

“Thank you Baby, I knew I could depend on you.” Alorna practically sang as she sauntered back to him and kissed him sweetly as you just stood there and shook your head as you texted your picture to Summer and gave her the update as even more updates came pouring into your own phone.

“Well, if you’ll excuse me, I have an appointment I need to keep.” You excused yourself and went up to the desk to check in for your own appointment.

“What are you getting done?” Doug asked you curiously from down the counter.

“Nothing. It’s an interview and sales pitch to be an onboard LMT, I get the ultimate cruise experience and elite package in a King’s Suite for free just for about an hour or so of my time and any money I spend on this cruise, I write off as a business expense, both personally and from a business expense for all of my businesses. So while this cruise is free, I get to enjoy a twenty thousand dollar tax break for myself and for each of my businesses, which considering all four of them and counting myself, is a whole hundred thousand dollars. Not bad for an hour or two of my time eh?” You returned with a smugness of your own as Doug and Alorna’s jaw dropped in jealous disbelief.

“Enjoy your time at the spa.” You offered sweetly before you paused and turned to address them head on.

“Oh by the way, before you go, I should remind you- just in case you didn’t know, there is always legal backlash for defaming and maligning a priestess of Aura. Because my lawyers have already been in contact with every single elder in every clan up here and especially with every single elder on the councils and got so many statements of what you two said about me to them and already have more than enough evidence to sue you both and it doesn’t matter if and when which of you turns on the other or not, both of you will answer for what you’ve done. You should know that the last person to defame a priestess of Aura, was sued for a 150 million dollars in damages, and the out of court settlement ended up being 15 million. So you’ll be hearing from my lawyers when you do get home and currently you’re both in the process of getting warrants out for your arrest because defaming and threatening a public figure which all priestesses of Aura are, is an arrest-able offense in every country in the world and an expedite-able offense too. So enjoy jail. I doubt anyone but me will have pockets deep enough to bail you out and there’s no way in hell I would ever do that either. But I hope this little affair was worth it for you.” You offered, your tone sweet as honey but the gravitas of what you were saying hit them both like a ton of bricks Noah beamed the happiest, proudest smile.

“Yes! In your faces motherfuckers!” Noah cheered as he gave them both the bird.

“Baby, I’m gonna be sitting right over here until you get out.” Noah informed you happily as he pointed to a chair before he strutted over and settled into it.

“You’re lying. That’s the worst bluff I’ve ever heard.” Alorna scoffed at you.

“I guess we’ll see when you get off the ship, in any port you do get off at. You’ve fucked around, now you get to find out.” You smiled smugly back with a shrug.

“Ms. Kingsley?” Sharon- the spa’s manager called when she came out.

“That’s me.” You confirmed as you went over to her and shook her hand and went back with her into the spa for your interview.

“What if she wasn’t bluffing.�� Doug murmured to Alorna before their own therapists came out to get them.

“She has to be, she’s just trying to get the last word and the last laugh and steal our fun. It’s not gonna work.” Alorna insisted but Doug wasn’t sure before they went back into the spa.

Noah happily texted his mom that you and him had fully reconciled and that he had told Alorna the ‘news’ of John’s divorce as his mother confirmed everything you had just told Doug and Alorna and that yesterday, shortly after you left, that she had gotten a call from a lawyer asking about the incident and that not only did she and Ukluk confirm the case, but so had Isla, Tonrar and everyone else involved and that the clan law was in the process of getting modified by each clan and that each clan was offering Zara a share of the tribal lands as recompense for believing the lies about her and were working on a formal apology and would be officially stripping Alorna and Doug of their clan standing and ties and that the police were involved and that there were indeed warrants out for their arrests and that cops were already contacting the cruise ship to let them know they were harboring wanted individuals.

Noah simply giggled gleefully as he got up and went to the closest bar and got a celebratory drink before settling back into his spot.

Finally, after all this time, and pain and heartache and damage, his sister and Doug had caused, they were getting what was coming to them. Karma was real and was gonna bite them in the ass soon enough. And the best part about it, is he didn’t have to lift a finger and neither did you. All he had to do was stand by you and do right by you from now on, which he was more than prepared to do. Never again would he waiver from you. Because while you had lost the battle the other night, you sure as hell were going to win the war and just because you weren’t physically fighting or combative, didn’t mean that you weren’t fighting back, you were just fighting back in the best way possible. You were going to hit where it would hurt them the most. And Noah for one would rather get the shit kicked out of him rather than be abandoned by his clan. So he was supremely grateful.

He pulled out your check that had been in his pocket, and turned it over to read the back one more time.

‘Dear Noah, please don’t think that I’m giving up. I’m not. I will never give up, not on you or on Sakura. And I will fight till my last breath for you both. I don’t want you to have to choose between your heritage, your culture and your birthright- and me. You deserve both. You both deserve everything you want. Love, happiness, honor, pride, heritage, roots and family. When you read this. I hope you’ll understand that as a priestess, there are rules I have to follow while in regalia. And I hope we find each other again soon. No matter what happens, I will always love you both- Sincerely, Zara.’

Even now, Noah wiped a stray happy tear from his eyes as he pressed the check to his heart. He had been a fool yesterday. A thankless bastard, a reprehensible asshole. But you redeemed him. Even when you shouldn’t have. And for that, he would always be grateful. And love you unconditionally and always treat you with the utmost care and respect. And treat your children as his own. Even if they both hated him at first. He would win them over by staying true to you and them. And he was always going to have your back and theirs and be the trustworthy rock you and they needed. He silently prayed to every god you both believed in and vowed this to them and when he had finished. A renewed sense of peace and happiness came and settled in him and renewed his spirit.

The interview process did take about an hour and a half. But you came out of the spa, happy and smiling and laughing with the spa’s day manager before you practically strut over to him.

“So? How’d it go?” He asked before you slid into his lap and drank the rest of his drink.

“It went great, they offered me a job but sadly I had to turn it down because I actually want to be around for my kids and possible new husband and can’t do that living on a ship full time.” You hinted.

“They have a jewelry store on this cruise ship right?” Noah asked. “I can get you a wedding ring right now.” He offered.

“Don’t you dare, the jewelry on this ship is cheap in quality and sky high in price. I would much rather have a traditional ring from the clans or bead in my hair or whatever. Besides, if you do get me a ring, it’ll live on this necklace or any other necklace you get for me because I can’t wear jewelry on my hands for work. But I would wear it on my off days and special occasions.” You answered.

“Besides. Call me old fashioned, but I want a traditional wedding with all the friends and family and all that and not some last minute thing on a cruise ship.” You urged him.

“Me too.” Noah simply grinned as he happily wrapped his arms around you and held you comfortably.

“So, let’s go get some brunch.” You urged him before you got off of him and offered him your hand to help him up which he gratefully took and once he was up to his full height he returned the glass to the bar and walked down to one of the restaurants on the ship with you comfortably under his arm.

“I will say this though, could we get you some nice dress clothes for dinner?” You asked as you walked down the hallway with your own arm around his waist.

“Sure.” Noah answered before you both gorged yourselves on a brunch then went shopping to get Noah a few things for the remaining nights of the cruise, including a black suit with a black dress shirt and black dress shoes with black socks with a few different ties and handkerchiefs that would match the dresses you brought so that you would match and so that Noah’s suit would be versatile.

“Aww, I see you found her.” Maggie said as you guys walked past the customer service desk together, both of you carrying several bags each.

“I did.” Noah grinned proudly.

“So- what did you forget?” She asked you curiously.

“His heart.” You answered truthfully.

“Awww!” She gushed. “Really?” She asked as she looked from the two of you.

“Yeah, we’ve been falling for each other since we first met each other, and it just took one good kick in the pants for me to come to my senses and come after her.” Noah revealed.

“What was your kick in the pants?” She pressed giddily.

“This.” Noah said as he showed her the back of the check before she and everyone else at customer service read it and started crying once you explained the whole story after putting your things on the counter so you wouldn’t have to keep holding them and it freed your hands up for your gestures.

“So, I actually won’t be needing my cabin. I’m rooming with her.” He nodded over to you.

“Well then I guess you need a refund for your suite don’t you? I mean you didn’t even really use the room at all, barely stepped your foot in it. So it doesn’t count, besides, we need the room for other guests anyway.” Maggie insisted before she got his room card and re-programed it so it would work for your room instead.

“And I got you some ship credit for whatever else your hearts desire while sailing with us for any “inconvenience”. Oh this is straight out of a movie I swear!” Maggie swooned happily as she typed on her computer before she printed out receipts and stuff for you both.

“Thank you so much for sharing. I ship you guys so hard. Here’s my email address, email me what happens, I want to know.” She insisted as she wrote down her personal email address to you.

“Definitely.” You grinned before you got your stuff and went back to your suite together and got ready for dinner at the cruise’s most fancy restaurant.

“Wow.” Noah breathed in awe before he wolf whistled at you from the comfort of the couch in the suite when he saw you walk out of the bathroom in a red dress that hugged your curves gorgeously and was sexy as sin. Your hair was done up, your makeup flawless, the red of your lipstick matching the shade and tone of the dress perfectly and your jewelry he could tell was older and most likely inherited from your late adopted grandparents.

“Thank you.” You thanked him bashfully as you struck a few seductive poses for him.

“That’s going to be real fun to take off.” Noah grinned as you could already see the beginnings of a hard on tent his pants.

“Yes it will. Later of course, not right now, we have a reservation to keep.” You urged him as you got on two different pairs of shoes.

“The red or the black?” You posed as you stood before him, switching from one foot to the other.

“They both look amazing, pick whichever one is more comfortable.” He urged you.

“They’re about the same. I’m going with red. Save the black for the little black dress.” You decided before you walked over to a chair and put the other red shoe on the other foot so now they matched before you found your shawl and put your things in a little clutch. “You ready?” You asked once you were all put together as you draped the shawl around your shoulders.

“Ready.” Noah said as he turned the TV off and got up from the couch and straightened himself up before he was by your side in just a few strides and happily escorted you to dinner and smiled so proudly when everyone you walked past seemed to stop and stare at you strutting past them. You could tell most of them wanted to say something, a few of the brave ones whistling lowly after you passed them but one look from Noah had them biting their tongue and looking away guiltily. While Noah looked perfectly dashing- he was an ice orc after all and therefore- not someone to mess with and Noah happily escorted you to the restaurant where you got seated at a table in the center of the restaurant where you happily shrugged your shawl off and laid your clutch next to you in the comfortable armchairs.

Noah wanted to pinch himself. Two weeks ago, he was bartering flights and airplane fuel and googling what he could make for dinner with only two or three ingredients and a handful of spices and he felt like he was treading water, barely keeping his head above water and begging his garden to ripen his produce faster so he could eat it and use it and he had been so grateful that Taylor had recommended him to you. You were one of the first clients to not haggle. He had given you a high price to start with, expecting to be haggled down. But you had accepted it and even sent him a deposit and that had set him straight and it was enough to ease the sinking feeling and gave him breathing room. And then the moment you walked into his life. Suddenly money was the last thing to matter to him. For the first time since childhood, money was not a major factor in anything. All that mattered was Sakura and you. Your safety, your wellbeing, your comfort, your happiness. And when you took to Sakura as easily and readily as you did, all he could do was thank the gods for answering his prayers for allowing the right woman into his life and Sakura’s life and for giving him the patience to wait for her. You were like a soothing balm to all the wounds losing Neena he and Sakura had sustained.

Neena, while she was traditional in most senses and was an excellent mother and careful with money and expenses and incredibly thrifty and resourceful because she had to be, she was easily contented and not demanding at all, however she wasn’t the greatest lover, or cook. She was very reserved. And not expressively passionate.

But you? Passion and heart, feeling and intuition was in everything you did. You were mild, gracious and generous when you wanted and needed to be but you didn’t let anyone walk all over you or take advantage of you and very protective. You were balanced between open yet discrete and an excellent judge of character. And you created such a safe, wonderful, nurturing, welcoming and relaxed environment wherever you were. And you were always, always- professional. You garnered respect wherever you went and whatever you did. And you were a goddess in both the bedroom and the kitchen and the perfect fit.

He felt guilty comparing you with Neena. It wasn’t fair to either of you. He had married Neena out of obligation, because Isla had arranged it since his youth and being married to her was a lesson in patience and persistence and learning to adjust to the other and learning to be a team. But to feel his heart and his soul and his mind light up brighter than the moon and the stars in the dark of night- when he met you, was something else entirely, it was an instant attraction rather than a growing to like, then love and working in tandem with you was second nature to him. You were an addiction for his soul. And he couldn’t believe he was lucky enough to have you in his life. And he was adamant, that he was never, ever going to be foolish enough to try let go- ever again.

Soon enough, he noticed that your table didn’t have the usual two waiters, your table- had four. And all of them were practically drooling over you. Noah was used to only having great service at home. They were treating both you and him like royalty and he sincerely doubted he would get this kind of service if he wasn’t with you. But he was going to enjoy it and suddenly the table was full of all kinds of complementary offerings. And with you flashing that smile and remembering each waiter by name and being sweeter than sugar and honey, they were all eating out of your hands. Even the chefs and sous chefs came out to see how you liked their offerings and happily sent you away with a handsome spread of other desserts to enjoy in the room since you were quite full just from all the appetizers and tapas and entrees whether they were on the menu or not.

On the way back to the room as both of you were carrying a few bags each, you passed Alorna and Doug who were leaving the casino and arguing bitterly with each other. Apparently they both had had some really bad luck in there and you and Noah simply snickered a laugh and shook your heads at their theatrics and drama.

Once you were in the room Noah was all too happy to peel your red dress off of you so you could take your corset off and groaned in relief once your body wasn’t being restricted anymore which got Noah to chuckle as he got his own suit off.

“Feel better?” Noah asked.

“Much.” You answered before you went to the bathroom to wash all your makeup off and once you reappeared you found Noah in a simple t-shirt and a pair of night shorts as you had donned your own pajamas.

“Dessert on the balcony?” You suggested.

“Sure.” Noah nodded as he grabbed the bags as you two went out the porch as you grabbed a blanket and snuggled into the double sunchair together as you two got to digging into dessert.

“So what are your hobbies?” You asked him curiously.

“Like what?” He asked you.

“Well, bedsides the flying, when it’s the off season, what do you like to do?” You asked as Noah took a big bite of cheesecake and thought it over as he chewed. “Besides the things you have to do to live up here, what are the things you look forward to doing in your off time?” You clarified before you took a bite yourself.

“Well I guess, just...making things and improving things. Two weeks ago, my winter plans were to rewire the parts of my plane I didn’t rewire last year. And the usual home improvements. Last winter I made Sakura a new dresser, so I’m kind of a jack of all trades.” Noah answered.

“Well then I think I have something that will interest you, it’s a workshop and it’s a decent sized outbuilding. When Andy and I were designing the house, he wanted to have a space to do his tinkering, to work on the vehicles, to do some maintenance and whatever else he needed or wanted to do. So even after he died, I went ahead and built the workshop that’s bigger than a shed but not quite a pole barn. It’s big enough to do small to medium sized projects in, comfortably. Thanks to my brothers and brothers in law and my dad I was able to score a lot of various equipment for super cheap from a lot of the old estate sales and barn sales and such. Like I have a lot of woodshop equipment, mechanic stuff, forge stuff, blade-smithing stuff, blacksmithing stuff and the like. And my dad and all the men in my family, whenever they come over, I can always find them out there, fiddling with stuff. Like it could be a proper man cave. All it would need is like a couch and a tv. Because it already has a mini fridge for soda and beer along with a bathroom and washing facilities. It is a separate space from the stables, and the hay barn.” You informed him as you pulled out your phone and showed him pictures of it before he took the phone and zoomed in on some of the equipment was shown as Noah’s lips were pursed into a silent ‘ooh’.

“Why do you have a hard on?” You teased as you noticed his half hard cock make an appearance in his shorts as you stroked your leg against it from half sitting in his lap.

“Cause I’m looking at one of my biggest fantasies brought to life, in my wildest dreams I never would have imagined anything like that and my head is almost spinning with all kinds of ideas of everything I could do with all of this. It’s almost too good to be true. I mean that’s a….” Noah chuckled as he looked at it all before he started listing off what he saw and what he knew about all of it as you just smiled brighter and prouder as relief and validation and vindication flooded your mind.

“Good.” You beamed.

“Why did you build it if Andy wasn’t alive to enjoy it and use it?” Noah asked you thoughtfully.

“Can you promise me not to freak out?” You posed.

“Yeah.” Noah answered as he gave you a curious look.

“Ok, so it was one of those- ‘build it and they will come’ kind of things. I had always planned in my head that if and when Andy would die, I would just up and move to the northern Great Lakes to be with the rest of my family. And then when Andy did die and we had already bought the property and were in the process of bulldozing the existing farm house and clearing brush and trees to make room for the house. I flirted with the idea of still cutting ties and just up and moving. But Olga surprised me by coming down to see me and she advised not making any rash decision with a broken heart and not to let my past ideas limit my current potential. And she had me bring her out there. And she ended up doing a peering right then and there, among the dirt and gravel. She told me to not change my plans of moving there, that my roots where I was- were already deep enough to sustain me and my family and if I uprooted myself and my family that I would damage them and me more than help them and myself. That I had the will, the means and the ability to build my dreams right there, from start to finish and that if I built it, they would come true. I just had to lay the foundations. To grow a garden, you ready the soil and then plant. I had already started to ready the soil. What I grew from there depended on how much soil I readied and what I planted. Both literally and figuratively. And that by the time my heart was ready, everything else would be ready too. And when she shared that with my family, they were all too happy to help in any way they could. When I had full control of all the funds from all of my inheritance from my adopted grandparents- I went back to the design firm and did a complete redesign and because I now had, literal millions to play with, I was able to design my dream house with all the flourishes and thoughtful touches and dreams and fantasies I had initially wanted but gave up because they didn’t fit the utilitarian point of view Andy had and I got to plan and execute it exactly how I wanted it. And even when there were little hiccups with the construction. I was ok with it. Because I wanted it to be perfect and it was. And then after it was built, and I was furnishing it and suddenly my dad, my father in law and my brother and brothers in law drug me to all these estate sales and barn sales and I got a ton of equipment for super cheap. And Olga told me that the right man would recognize what I have and know exactly how to use it best, not just in my self but with what I had. Which you just demonstrated for me, cause you knew what all of that was and I am willing to bet that you have at least a dozen ideas of what to do and how to use it all in your head.” You grinned proudly as you tapped the side of his head affectionately.

“Oh at least a hundred.” Noah admitted happily before he turned to kiss your fingers and your palm with equal affection.

“I look forward to seeing them.” You insisted as you snuggled further together.

#Jewel Of The North #Jewel Of The North Part 11 #ice orcs #jewel orcs #ahhh #all better #but it's going to get even better

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lettheladylead · 4 years ago

Text

avoid the unhappy ending (ch3)

ships/characters: Goldie, Donald, Duckworth, Scooge/Goldie

words (ch3): ~1600

summary: Goldie comes to town to see Scrooge. Instead, she somehow manages to run into literally everyone else.

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27108943/chapters/66232663

Chapter 3 below the cut:

The conversation with Launchpad had faded and turned to him singing along to the radio once again, and Goldie was perfectly content with that. Or at least she found it tolerable. Him thinking she and Scrooge were married was giving her a strange headache, but she couldn't deny it was definitely a benefit...pretending to be Mrs. McDuck was never at the top of her con list, but maybe she’d consider it in the future.

Didn’t want to lead Scrooge on too much, though. He might get excited if he caught wind. Or maybe he’d be pissed. Hmm...

They arrived after a short drive and Launchpad rushed to open the door for her. Goldie was going to comment on the surprising lack of crashing that happened, but she turned around and saw several bushes, trees, lamp posts, and small animals attached to the back of the vehicle. He had that radio volume set way too loud for her not to notice any of that.

“Thanks, L…” she started to say, until realizing she didn’t know this man’s name. She knew it began with an L! That was pretty good! “...Lunchbag?”

Launchpad just smiled and saluted at her. “You’re welcome, Ma’am! Anytime!”

She nodded and headed towards the front door, satisfied that she got his name right. It was an odd name, but surely he would’ve corrected her had she been wrong. The closer she got to the door, the more she could see inside the front window, and the more that made one thing clear:

Bentina was right. There.

Goldie froze in her walk and turned her head around to see if her hunky young escort was still watching. He was - though if she was being honest he didn’t look like he was processing much of anything. There was a butterfly fluttering near him that seemed to capture most of his attention. In an effort to avoid the resident bodyguard, Goldie turned to the left and started her short trek around the side of the manor. It was easier to get up to Scrooge’s room without arousing suspicion if she went from the side.

The walk was longer than she remembered - or maybe she was just getting too old - and Goldie turned the corner to see Donald’s familiar houseboat sitting in the pool. She’d forgotten about this odd little arrangement he had with Scrooge. The old miser probably didn’t even share his electricity with the poor kid.

“Goldie?

She twisted her head to the side to see Donald watering some plants in the back. Internally, Goldie was screeching at herself. She was supposed to be a stealthy thief! She’d broken into the manor a thousand times, completely undetected! Past bodyguards and children and Scrooge himself! And now she’d been seen almost immediately? Was she really getting that old? She needed to visit Ronguay again.

Externally, she put a hand on her hip and smirked. “Donnie!”

Donald tossed his hose to the side and walked over. “What are you doing here?”

Goldie took a second to play his words in her head and make sure she understood him correctly. After three and a half decades, she was definitely getting a hang of his unique way of speaking. “Just visiting your uncle. Same old, same old.”

“Uh-huh.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “What are you gonna steal this time? Another map?”

She brought a hand to her chest in feigned offense. “Why, Donald, I can’t believe you think so little of me! Your dear Aunt Goldie was just in the neighborhood and thought to stop by!”

He scoffed and pointed to her side. “And where’d you get that umbrella from?”

Goldie looked down. Oh. She’d completely forgotten about the umbrella - kind of thought she’d left it in the limo. “Good question,” she said, tossing it behind her and ignoring the loud crash. “But it doesn’t matter now, does it?”

“I...guess not?” Donald frowned. “If you’re here to see Scrooge, why’d you come to the pool? He’s usually in his room around now.”

“Is that so?” Goldie looked up at the window she knew connected to just that spot. “I thought he’d be at the Bin, now I'm just trying to avoid Beakley. I’m sure you understand.”

Donald grimaced. “Yeah....she’ll kill you if she sees you.”

“I’m counting on it,” Goldie laughed and grabbed a grappling hook out of her endless bag. She tossed it up to the window with ease. “Take care of yourself, alright?”

“Wait!”

She didn’t move and looked at him with a raised eyebrow.

Donald sheepishly rubbed his arm. “I...well...look. Scrooge was really happy after Florida.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Really happy, Goldie.” Donald waved his hands around for emphasis. “So please don’t...just run off with his money, or whatever you’re planning.”

Goldie blinked a few times and turned away from Donald, smiling sadly. She let out a short laugh and leaned over to pat him on the cheek. “Don’t worry, Donnie. I was pretty happy after Florida, too.”

Donald didn’t get a chance to respond before Goldie launched herself up towards Scrooge’s bedroom. He supposed he didn’t have that much more to say.

Undoing the latch on Scrooge’s bedroom window was as easy as breathing - she’d done it so many times it wasn’t even funny. A quick pop and up it went - so she crawled and crouched, landing on the floor unfortunately not as gracefully as usual. Her poor knees screamed at her.

She stood up with a smile and scanned the room, ready to hear some complaints in a thick Scottish accent.

There were no such complaints.

Instead, she was alone. Still. This was getting to be too frustrating. But after putting in this much effort, it wasn’t like she could just give up. She’d spoken to too many people already, and they’d tell Scrooge, and then Scrooge would be able to hold that over her for years to come.

She glanced over at his desk. They’d had hundreds of conversations over the years with him sitting at his desk and her standing nearby or leaning on the windowsill or sitting on his bed. Not often did she have an opportunity to sit and go through it herself.

And so she did. Goldie sunk into the chair and just sat there for a minute without moving, basking in some memories. She was starting to understand why Scrooge did it so often. Every scratch or nick on the surface of this desk could be tied back to a specific moment - several of which Goldie remembered exactly the night they were from. Good times.

She leaned forward and rubbed circles around one particular dent that was bugging at the corner of her memories. Ah, well. She had a good memory, but she also had 150 years worth of things to remember. No one was perfect.

Her finger trailed down the wood and over the side, where she landed on one of the drawer handles. A small tug and her suspicions were confirmed - locked. After a thorough check, it seemed all of the drawers were locked. Nothing that she couldn’t handle, of course.

She reached into her hair to grab a bobby pin when there was a sudden aggravating chill behind her. Her spine tingled and she waited only a moment before ducking down and grabbing the chair, flipping it over and holding it in front of her like a shield.

She was greeted by a very unexpected sight.

“...Duckworth?”

“Miss O’Gilt,” the floating, translucent figure said. “Nice to see you again.”

“You’re, um…” She cautiously put the chair down and walked closer to him, sticking out her hand and swishing it through his middle. “...a ghost?"

“Observant as always.” He floated through her, stopping between the thief and the desk that he knew Mr. McDuck wouldn’t want her meddling through. “Are you looking for something?”

“Hmmm.” She took note of where he chose to float, and now she definitely wanted to see whatever was in that desk. “Won’t know until I see it.”

Goldie walked back towards the desk and ignored Duckworth when he tried to get in her way again.

“How exactly are you going to stop me? You’re a ghost.”

In only a second, she watched as Duckworth transformed from a mild mannered British dog into a gigantic ferocious demonic figure - who immediately leaned down into her face and lurched his fingers into her arms.

She could feel him, very clearly.

“Alright, alright, I’m convinced!” She held up her hands in faux-surrender as he turned back to normal. She’d just come back here later and look again, when there wasn’t a terrifying pseudo-poltergeist hanging around. “So is this what you do now? Hang around and scare off beautiful thieves?”

He rolled his eyes. “I was brought back only recently and was bored silly in the afterlife. Cleaning up after Mr. McDuck gives me something to do, especially considering how little Mrs. Beakley does.”

“Oh?” Goldie put a hand to her beak. “And I’m sure you’ve said as much to her.”

“As often as possible.”

“I would pay to see her reaction to that,” Goldie said with a laugh.

Duckworth gave her a hint of a rare smile. “If you mention payment, perhaps Mr. McDuck can have something arranged for you.”

This time she rolled her eyes and shooed him with a wave of her hand. “Yeah, yeah. Where is he, anyway? I’ve been looking all over.”

“I believe I saw him downstairs earlier, but he’s been shuffling around quite a bit today. Something on his mind, perhaps.”

Goldie hummed.

“Is this one of your anniversaries?” he asked without a hint of judgement.

She was already halfway to the door. “Not with me. Maybe it’s his anniversary with some other gold digging ne’er-do-well this time.”

“Doubtful. I hope you find him soon,” Duckworth said as he started to float down through the floorboards. “He looked a little melancholy this morning.”

She frowned and watched as the ghost faded away. Only at McDuck Manor, she supposed.

#ducktales #scroldie #goldie o'gilt #donald duck #duckworth #fic #fics #avoid the unhappy ending

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thechosenburrito · 4 years ago

Text

Intro to Love: 1.4-Thanks for Ghosting Me

Word Count: 1,581

Description:

Xochi and Carson are on their way to study when they’re rudely interrupted.

Author’s Note:

Almost done with Chapter 1! Maybe I’ll be done tonight!

Previous Chapter: 1.3-I Can See Right Through You

It's hard to sleep when you feel like shit. That's why I only slept for 30 minutes after my little episode the night before. The clock read 7 o'clock which came as a shock to me as I usually only see it followed by a "pm". I stayed in bed for a couple of hours, scrolling through an endless stream of nothing on my phone.

My stomach growled out of nowhere. I smiled a bit when it wasn't immediately followed by nausea. I got up and pulled a cold slice of pizza from the fridge. I was able to finish a small slice and figured I could use this time to take an extra-long shower.

It was nice to shower some of the sadness away. But, when I got out, my eyes were still puffy and had dark circles under them. This wasn't unusual for a college student. However, I generally try to present myself as someone who didn't have a mental breakdown the night before. I dried my hair in front of the mirror in my room. Drying my thick dark hair required using my blow-dryer on the maximum setting, which isn't optimal for dorms with paper walls. My true hair revealed itself. It was wavy in strange places and I had a sort of cowlick in the front. I plugged in a flat iron to tame the crazy mess.

I touched the dark bags under my eyes. I considered putting concealer over them, then on the red marks on the side of my nose, and maybe followed by the weird freckle on my right cheek. At that point, I didn't really feel like doing make-up anymore. I looked closely at my eyebrows. A bit over-grown, but thick brows were in. I think? Oh well. I toweled off and pulled on a tank top and hoodie ( Of course with proper supportive garments underneath). I pulled on a pair of jeans and slipped on my black canvas sneakers. The iron was finally hot enough and I got to work on my hair. I've done this a million times, which made it the perfect time to let all my stupid thoughts out.

What if they made really tiny curling irons for eyelashes? Actually, I don't want that THAT close to my vulnerable eyeball.

Am I strong enough to stand on the tips of my toes in these shoes?

Of course, I put the iron down and tried it out.

"Ow."

Not yet. Next time for sure.

Should I become a beanie person? Are beanies secretly my thing?

I pressed my hair to my head and imagined a beanie there.

Nope. My head is a weird shape. Guess I can't go bald either.

I finished up my hair and unplugged the iron. I still had a couple of hours to kill and an orange soda from the vending machine down the hall was calling my name. I grabbed my room keys and wallet and headed down the hallway. I passed a few early risers on the way. Do people actually wake up this early? For fun? I kept scrolling through my phone to avoid eye contact. I wasn't really feeling the whole 'interaction' thing. At some point, I realized I was scrolling and not even looking at anything. Not my best moment. A sponsored post caught my eye and made me audibly groan.

God, another ad for a Team StrikeForce! (TM).

"Even Superheroes need clean teeth! Use StrikeForce SuperClean Toothpaste to fight back against plaque!"

StrikeForce was essentially a government-backed superhero team. They purposely sought out conventionally attractive people with the most vanilla powers ever to represent the "ideal striker". And they made sure to throw in some token minorities. You had a strong girl, a flying man, someone that blasted fire from their hands, and some other generic power. Speed maybe? Telekinesis? I did my best to avoid any media with them in it. They were essentially glorified cops who spouted government-approved messages like "It's cool to protect your chip from harm so keep yourself and others safe! " and "Remember: Public use of powers is against the law! Only teams like StrikeForce are allowed so everyone can be safe!". Right after the lightning storm, they actually did some important things like stopping individuals who abused their powers. But, once people realized they could get away with more crimes by keeping on the down-low, the StrikeForce lost their bite and became the government puppets on kids' backpacks we all knew and loved.

I sighed a bit. Being critical was too tiring. I quickly realized that I was going to crash. I didn't expect my sleep debt to catch up to me so quickly. I started getting everything to make coffee but hesitated at the thought of drinking something caffeinated after last night.

I'll make a cup of tea first. That'll cancel out the caffeine.

Yes, that's exactly how biology works.

I put on water to heat up and chugged an iced coffee from the fridge while it brewed. Chasing ice cold coffee with nearly-boiling tea made my insides feel like an absolute mess of clashing temperatures.

Phone buzzed.

I paused a moment before replying.

(X) Yeah that works. I'm good to leave whenever you are

(X) ok see you then

I threw all my supplies in my backpack, grabbed my keys, and started making my way to the dorm lobby.

I saw Carson chatting with someone at the front desk and laughing. I'd seen the guy at the front desk a million times and barely made eye contact, except the time I got locked out of my room and was forced to talk to him.

I slowed down my pace and stared at my phone as if I didn't notice before taking a breath and walking up to him.

I struggled to plaster on a normal-looking smile.

"Hey! Ready to get going?" I asked, too cheerily.

"Yeah, just-"

A phone alert when off on all three of our phones.

"MISSING: 20 YR OLD FEMALE, 150 LBS., 5'6", STRIKER, LAST SEEN IN PURPLE SWEATER ON JUAREZ ST 9 AM. SEE LOCAL MEDIA."

My breath caught in my throat.

"Oh no.." I whispered.

"Wow," said Carson. "Juarez Street isn't even that far from here. Do you think she was a student?"

I shrugged. The guy at the desks scoffed.

"How do I turn these off? I hate the sound of those dumb ass alerts going off all the time," he said in a huff.

It was Carson's turn to shrug. He pulled on this backpack.

"Ok, we should get going. Let's be careful though. We don't wanna get snatched up!" he said with a laugh.

I smiled and we headed out the door. We walked for a bit in awkward silence before Carson casually broke it.

"So why did they have to put that the girl was a Striker? Doesn't exactly help identify her," he asked.

"Probably to make sure no one ever looks for her," I sighed.

"Really?" he responded innocently.

"Uh no. Ha, not really. I was just making a joke about how people don't tend to like Strikers," I tried to keep from stumbling over my words. "A lot of the time, when they find..uh...a body... they check to see if they're a Striker to help identify them."

We stopped at an intersection. I decided to let Carson cross first, thinking they wouldn't try to hit me if they saw him first, even though there was only one car quite a bit away.

"Oh yeah. That actually makes sense since they have..." he rubbed his shoulder "..those chip things. Do you think it hurts?"

"I don't..." I heard the sound of a car speeding up. I turned only to be met with the unmarked marked white van only 10 feet away from us.

I didn't have time to scream. I lunged at Carson, praying that I'd grab onto him in time. As soon as I got my hands on him, I did my best to think permeable thoughts.

I watched the bumper pass right through us. For a split second, I could see into the interior of the van. The driver was wearing a bandana over his face and sunglasses, but even with both of those, you could tell he was sure that he turned me to roadkill. I caught a brief glimpse of the back of the van. I could make out a dark hunched figure and maybe some rope, but it was all going too fast.

We both hit the ground hard. I was pretty grateful that I landed on a person and not the asphalt. I rolled off him and tried to catch the breath that got knocked out of me. It immediately occurred to me that we were both still in street, and I started helping Carson onto the curb. His arms had some scrapes on his arms and a couple of holes in his T-Shirt, but otherwise, he didn't look too bad. We collapsed onto the curb.

"Holy shit. We got lucky." I managed between breaths.

I turned to him, but his face wore an expression of shock rather than relief.

"No. That was beyond luck. We should be dead." he said darkly.

He turned to look at me so quickly, I shot right up.

"How did you do that?"

Next Chapter: 1.5-The Good, The Bad, and The Unmasked

a/n:

I can’t think of anything clever to put here but you should totally send me asks and stuff

#original writing #intro to love

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hecate-herself · 5 years ago

Text

Every single prompt I have written?

I think that this is every prompt that I’ve done so far, as of 28/03/2020

1. “Come to bed with me?”

2. “Do you even still love me?”

3. “I think you’re bleeding…”

4. “Get off my foot!”

“Get your foot out from underneath my foot.”

5. “Shh, it’s okay, you don’t need to cry.”

6. “I can’t sleep.”

7. “Why did you lie to me?”

8. “Don’t move, they hit your head really hard.”

9. “Have a good day.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

10. “Do you want a bedtime story?”

11. “Are you sure that you have enough blankets?”

12. “Get out. I am done with you.”

13. “That looks broken. You need a doctor.”

14. “Oh, you can go to hell.”

“Stop threatening me with a good time.”

15. “[mama/papa]’s got you.”

16. “I need a hug. Please?”

17. “Isn’t it your bedtime?”

“Hypocrite.”

“Come to bed with me then.”

18. “I love you, but please, shut up.”

19. “Don’t touch me.”

20. “I can’t stand the sight of you right now. Get away from me.”

21. “I said that I never wanted to see you again. Why are you here?”

“I just wanted to help!”

22. “Please… I am begging you, just open your eyes. Please. You can’t die.”

23. “I’m not hurt.”

“You are actively bleeding.”

“Oh. So I am.”

24. “Don’t pass out on me now, we’re nearly home.”

25. “Isn’t this illegal?”

“Yes, but technically no.”

26. “Penny for your thoughts?”

“If my thoughts are only worth a penny, I shall keep it to myself.”

27. “Did you just stab me?”

28. “…How on earth did you manage to get up there?”

29. “Put the cookie down, eat your dinner first.”

30. “I think I can feel them kicking!”

31. “Are you asleep?”

“Not anymore.”

32. “What if I don’t get better? What if I am broken?”

33. “That is going to leave a really nasty scar.”

34. “Nothing could go wrong, you said. Well guess what? Everything has gone wrong!”

35. “Quick, I think the baby is coming!”

36. “You made me breakfast in bed? What did you do this time?”

37. “I trusted you.”

38. “I don’t… I don’t feel good.”

39. “Come any closer and I will hit you with this book. I swear to God!”

40. “Where did you put your blankie this time.”

41. “Can you check for monsters under the bed?”

42. “You broke my heart.”

43. “Hey, are you alright?”

“Do I look alright to you?”

44. “That best not be the last of the milk… Oh you bastard.”

45. “One little shoe. Two little shoes. All ready to go out.”

46. “It’s just a bad dream. I’ve got you, it’s okay.”

47. “I wish that I never had met you.”

48. �� “It’s so cold.”

“You need to hold on a bit longer, you are going to be fine. Just stay awake a little longer.”

49. “Roses are red, violets are blue- ow. Fuck you!”

50. “They have grown so much, it’s hard to believe how little they used to be.”

51. “Have you stolen my shirt?”

52. “Stop lying to me!”

53. “I can’t breathe.”

54. “Okay, start from the beginning, you lost me right after you said that you punched someone.”

“That was the first thing that I said.”

55. “I want another baby.”

56. “I never want you to feel like you are alone.”

57. “You are the worst mistake I have ever made.”

58. “Where am I?”

“Are you day drinking?”

“It’s apple juice, not whiskey.”

59. “Say goodbye to mama and papa, they’ll be back soon.”

60. “Kiss me.”

61. “You loved me!”

“Loved. Past tense.”

62. “Don’t go. Please. I can’t lose you.”

63. “Do you pinky promise?”

“What are you? Five?”

64. “Stomach bug?”

“No, morning sickness.”

65. “I feel safe in your arms.”

66. “Am I just a game to you?”

67. “I’ve got you, you are going to be okay.”

68. “Lunch?”

“It’s half seven. In the evening.”

“Dinner then?”

69. “It could be worse?”

“They got jam everywhere!”

70. “I dreamed about you last night. I woke up happy.”

71. “Stop pretending to care.”

72. “Please tell me that isn’t all your blood.”

73. “What are you reading?”

74. “You really are your [mother/father]’s child.”

75. “I was thinking, you, me, the bottle of wine in the kitchen and sitting in front of the fire. Thoughts?”

“Yes please.”

76. “You hurt me!”

77. “You’re burning up.”

78. “I don’t mean to alarm you, but the spider in the shower is frankly massive.”

79. “So… the baby is fine, I want you to know that first, they are absolutely fine.”

“What did you do?”

80. “Thank you for looking after me.”

“For you I would do anything.”

81. “Wouldn’t you rather be with [him/her/them]?”

82. “I think you need to see a doctor.”

83. “You didn’t see anything.”

“Yes, I did. I saw all of it.”

84. “They won’t stop crying and, in a minute, I think I am going to start crying too.”

85. “Are you wearing a new lip balm? It tastes really good.”

86. “You ripped my heart to pieces. Did it even hurt when you left?”

87. “It’s just a bit of blood. I’m fine.”

88. “I will make dinner if you don’t speak for the rest of the afternoon.”

89. “Stop wiggling! I need to get you changed!”

90. “Do you have a reason to get out of bed today? Let’s just stay here as long as we can.”

91. “Did you ever love me, or was it just an act?”

92. “It’s just a nightmare. I’ve got you.”

93. “Can I adopt the stray cat out in the street?”

“Do you want fleas? Because that is how you get fleas.”

94. “You are perfect, my little [pet name].”

95. “Stop smiling at me like that, I am trying to concentrate.”

96. “I feel like no one could ever love me.”

97. “Take a deep breath.”

“It hurts.”

“I know, but you have to breath.”

98. “Do we have any cookies in? No? I’m making cookies.”

99. “Did you have a bad dream?”

“Uh huh.”

“Come on, get into bed with us, you can sleep in bed with us tonight.”

100. “Can I kiss you?”

101. “Leave me alone. I don’t want to talk to anyone right now.”

102. “You’re going to be okay, just breath. Oh god… is that bone?”

103. “What would you do if I said that I may have burnt the dinner?”

104. “Take a break. I’ll stay up with them, you need some sleep.”

105. “Yes, you look great in my shirt. But I kind of need it back.”

106. “Go ahead, leave, I am not going to stop you.”

107. “That hit hard, are you okay?”

108. “The amount of alcohol I am going to need to forget this is going to kill me.”

109. “How did you get pen that high up the wall?”

110. “I am madly in love with you.”

“Why?”

“I don’t have a clue.”

111. “You’ll come crawling back to me.”

“Never.”

112. “Please breath, please… oh god.”

113. “I may have… mildly panicked?”

“You shot at me!”

114. “Please don’t vomit on me. Please don’t vomit on me. Please don’t… You vomited on me.”

115. “Kiss me. Now.”

116. “Please don’t say that, I don’t think I can take it.”

117. “Did you get shot?”

118. “You drank my coffee? Why must you hurt me in this way?”

119. “How many coffees is that?”

“You try having a toddler who refuses to go to bed.”

120. “May I have this dance?”

121. “Fuck off and fall off a cliff.”

122. “Don’t you dare die on me, you promised me!”

123. “What do you mean you aren’t interested in me, it’s me!”

124. “It’s your bedtime.”

“Can I have a story?”

“I just read you a story.”

“’nother story?”

125. “Hold me, please?”

126. “I’d have stayed, if you had asked me to.”

127. “It hurts.”

“I know, it is going to be okay, I promise.”

“It burns, please… Make it stop.”

128. “Hungry?”

“Depends on if you are cooking or we are going out.”

129. “I just put them down for a nap. We probably have an hour of peace.”

130. “Did you make me breakfast in bed? I think that I love you.”

131. “I’m sorry, but I didn’t have a choice.”

“There’s always a choice!”

132. “Your nose is bleeding.”

133. “No, I am not playing spin the bottle with you.”

“But it will be fun!”

“There are only two people here!”

134. “Fuck.”

“Fuck!”

“No. Don’t repeat that. It’s a naughty word.”

“Fuck.”

135. “Happy birthday!”

136. “After everything you put me through, you come here and ask for my help? How dare you!”

137. “Hey, you passed out, stay laying down for a bit longer.”

138. “Did you just get dragged through a bush, or are you always this messy?”

“I couldn’t find a comb.”

139. “If the kid can nap, am I allowed to as well?”

140. “Look up. Mistletoe.”

141. “Bite me.”

142. “How did I get here?”

“I had to carry you. You hit your head really hard.”

143. “How do you feel about killing spiders?”

“Where is it?”

144. “When mummy and daddy love each other very much…”

145. “Don’t you just look absolutely stunning?”

“You are biased.”

“I am your partner, I am allowed to be.”

146. “I hate you so much.”

“I know. I deserve it.”

147. “I’m calling the doctor.”

“I am fine.”

“You really aren’t.”

148. “Why are you on the floor? Did you fall?”

“Would you believe me if I said no?”

149. “Can you tidy your toys away please? Preferably before I break my neck tripping over a stuffed turtle.”

150. “Did you sleep last night? At all?”

“God no, what do you take me for?”

151. “Get out!”

“Please let me explain.”

“Out!”

152. “it could be worse.”

“You aren’t the one bleeding.”

“Look, you are still alive. Stop whining.”

153. “Pass me that would you- no, no the other one. On your left. No… your other left.”

154. “Hush little baby don’t say a word, mummy has a headache and your crying hurts.”

155. “You and me, together. We’re unbeatable. We can go against all odds and come out on top.”

156. “Who the hell do you think you are?”

“Well-“

“That was rhetorical.”

157. “Are you bleeding?”

“We don’t have time to deal with it. I’ll be fine.”

158. “Is this heaven?”

“Well, judging by your presence here, hell.”

“Oh. So I am dead?”

159. “Is it wrong for me to wish that they never grow up and I can keep my baby forever?”

“I kind of want that too.”

160. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I am just… speechless. You look beautiful.”

161. “Don’t touch me!”

162. “Walk it off.”

“I don’t know if I can walk.”

163. “Alright, which one of you idiots left your shoes out for me to trip over again?”

164. “Open wide. Come on, eat your dinner!”

“It probably tastes awful.”

“It doesn’t- okay. No, it is pretty bad.”

165. “I’ve had nightmares. That was like a living hell.”

166. “Did you sleep well?”

“Only because you were with me.”

167. “Love me!”

“I love you. Now shut up and go to sleep.”

168. “Don’t move. The spider is on your shoulder.”

169. “How many stitches?”

“Eight. But I think I just ripped two of them out.”

170. “Can I sleep in here? I don’t like the storm.”

“Scared of a little thunder?”

171. “You’re dripping blood everywhere.”

“Sorry, is there a place you’d prefer I stand and bleed?”

“The bathroom. It’s easier to clean up.”

172. “Let’s play a game.”

“Oh no, you are a cheat. I’m not playing against you.”

173. “Bite me.”

“Have you ever said that and been bitten?”

“More times than I’d like to admit.”

174. “Pour us a drink would you? It’s been a long day.”

“Whiskey, brandy, wine or water?”

“If you pour me a glass of water I may actually leave you.”

175. “Get out the shower! You’ve been in there for hours!”

176. “I’ll get the first aid kit.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re a liar. Sit down and let me patch you up.”

177. “Mama.”

“Did they just… Was that their first word?

178. "I’m going to the shops. Needs anything?”

“A will to live. And coffee.”

“A will to live sounds expensive. I’ve got a tenner.”

“Coffee and chocolate then. Close enough.”

179. “Shit it’s on fire.”

“What did you do?!”

180. “How’s the baby doing?”

“They won’t stop crawling underneath the bed.”

181. “How do you feel?”

“Like I’ve been stabbed.”

“Have… Have you been stabbed?”

“A little bit.”

182. “Why are you in a tree?”

“Why aren’t you in a tree?”

“Are you stuck?”

183. “Let’s get a pet.”

“There’s a spider in the kitchen. That’ll do.”

184. “What time is it?”

“Way too early.”

185. “Bed time.”

“I’m an adult.”

“An adult who has been up for nearly thirty six hours, go to bed. Before I drag you up there myself.”

186. “Did you have a good dream?”

“Yeah, you were there.”

187. “What did you do this time?”

“What makes you think I did something?”

“The black eye is a bit of a give away.”

188. “I’m begging you. Please. Please. Just wake up. I need you to wake up. I can’t be without you. Wake up, please.”

189. “What did you do to [her/him]? Tell me!”

190. “I’m actually going to smack you in a minute.”

“Go for it.”

191. “What are you doing?”

“Wasting time.”

192. “You’re bleeding.”

“I know.”

193. “This is going to really hurt.”

“I know, just do it.”

194. “Let’s just get really drunk.”

“Bad day?”

“Bad doesn’t cover it. We have wine in, right?”

195. “Tuck me into bed?”

“You are an adult.”

“So?”

196. “Kiss me, please?”

“Nah.”

“Fine, I will kiss someone else.”

“No, don’t do that!”

197. “Come to bed. I sleep better with you there.”

198. “It would be better if you just forgot me.”

199. “I don’t want to talk about it, just leave me alone.”

200. “I love you.”

“But I don’t love you.”

201. “Where did you get that scar from?

202. “Hold still, I think it’s broken, I can set it, but this will really hurt.”

203. “I haven’t slept in days. The nightmares won’t stop.”

204. “Wake up, I think someone else is here.”

205. “One drink, two drink, three drink, floor!”

206. “How is the hangover?”

“You can great straight to hell, do not pass go, do not collect two hundred pounds.”

207. “I love mummy.”

“What about me?”

“Just mummy.”

208. “Your brat keeps kicking me in the kidney.”

“How come you say they’re mine whenever they are doing that?”

209. “First day of school, are we excited?”

“No.”

210. “Stay in bed a little longer. It is warm here.”

“Alright, five more minutes, then I have to get up.”

211. “I want to hate you, I really do. You repulse me. So why can’t I stay away from you?”

212. “Does it hurt here?”

“Everywhere hurts.”

213. “Are you cheating?”

“What makes you think that?”

“Because you cannot have three aces when I have two.”

214. “They’re asleep. We finally have some time to… and you are already asleep.”

215. “How do you always look so kissable?”

216. “How could you do it? To me?”

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t think sorry is going to fix this.”

217. “Oh god I think I am going to throw up.”

218. “Cup of coffee?”

“God?”

“I… I don’t think I am.”

219. “Is… Is it mine?”

“Bastard, of course it’s yours!”

220. “I just want to steal you away to somewhere private and have my wa- oh! I didn’t see you there.”

“I gathered.”

221. “I wish that I had never loved you.”

222. “I can’t stop the bleeding. Please, I need help.”

223. “Ow shit!”

“Language.”

“Ow Merde!”

224. “I go away for six months and I come home, and you have a baby.”

225. “Will you be my Valentine?”

226. “I got you a gift.”

“Why?”

“It’s Valentines day today?”

227. “A candlelit dinner?”

“Anything for you my dear.”

228. “Why are there roses all over the bed?”

“Valentines day?”

“You can tidy that mess up.”

229. “I made dinner reservations.”

“So did I. Surprise?”

230. “Supri- oh shit you’re not [insert character name].”

“Oh god! What the hell? Where are your clothes?”

231. “There are flowers on the doorstep.”

“Who from?”

“I think that you have a secret admirer.”

232. “I guess that you could say that I am a hopeless romantic.”

“I would have just stopped at hopeless.”

233. “I love you.”

“I know. No, I’m just joking! I love you too!”

234. “Happy Valentines day.”

“I didn’t think we would do anything for it.”

“I changed my mind, I wanted to treat you.”

235. “You. Me. Quarantined for two weeks. Anything could happen.”

“Yeah. I may kill you. Or we may both get sick.”

236. “You know, in thirteen years, we could get a quaranteen out of this.”

“I think that I would rather just get sick. Thanks though.”

237. “You have quite a high temperature.”

“Do… Does that mean you think I’m hot?”

“And you are clearly delirious.”

238. “You are coughing an awful lot, you really should be in bed.”

239. “We should do what they did in Edinburgh.”

“Which was?”

“Anyone who was sick got bricked into their homes and left to die.”

“Oh… No, we aren’t doing that.”

240. “We are running out of milk.”

“God, I hate black coffee.”

“Maybe someone shouldn’t have got sick then?”

241. “Is this necessary?”

“You sneezed. You get locked away.”

242. “If you cough on me, I will end you.”

243. “If this kills us, I am glad that I got to spend my last few days with you.”

“It’s a bloody cold.”

244. “I wonder what the world will be like when we can go outside again.”

“It’s two weeks, not two decades.”

245. “I made you some tea.”

“Thank you.”

“But I am not coming into your room, I’ll leave it out here.”

246. “I made you some soup. Open your mouth, I just want to check your temperature first.”

247. “I just want… chocolate.”

“We have three days left. Then you can eat so much chocolate that you are sick.”

“That is the plan.”

248. “I have nothing to read.”

“What about those books on your bedside table?”

“I’ve been inside for ten days. I’ve finished them.”

249. “I can’t believe that I want to be exercising right now. Anything that isn’t these same four walls for another week.”

250. “I am so bored. I would do anything right now.”

“Anything?”

“Anything but you.”

251. “How many rounds of snap have we played?”

“Um… Thirty-six. It’s not my fault you’re bad at any other card game.”

252. “How long will we be inside for?”

“Fourteen days.”

“This isn’t enough coffee.”

253. “I swear there is mistletoe everywhere.”

254. “Close your eyes. I want to surprise you.”

“I hate surprises.”

“You’ll like this one.”

255. “Mince pie?”

“Raisons disgust me.”

“I made them myself.”

“I suppose that it couldn’t hurt to try one.”

256. “You are awful with wrapping paper.”

“I nearly gave up and just wrapped myself up instead.”

257. “What are you doing?”

“Tying a ribbon around you.”

“Why?”

“You’re a gift.”

258. “Do you think you can survive Christmas with my parents?”

“Can you?”

“We are going to need a lot of alcohol.”

259. “I think it’s snowing.”

“I think I am not leaving the house today.”

260. “We need hot chocolate, cream and marshmallows.”

261. “We should go ice skating.”

“I don’t know how to skate.”

“That’s fine, I could do with a good laugh.”

262. “You forgot to get them a present, didn’t you?”

“I didn’t realise that we were actually doing anything for Christmas!”

“A fool’s error.”

263. “Do I get a kiss at midnight?”

“Depends.”

“On?”

“If I am still awake. And sober.”

264. “I think that I am on the naughty list.”

“Oh yes, you definitely are.”

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chirpycreations · 4 years ago

Text

#Memento Mori

So, I guess this is my story. I wanted to write this during the stream but my dyslexia forbays me from being able to write and listen to two completely unrealed things at the same time, and I couldn't bring myself to pull away, so here it is, nice and late ^^;

- - - - - -

Well, I was late to the party like most things in my life. I found the channel at 16 days to go thanks to MatPatt's theory. I haven't watched all 369 videos. My last count put me at 100 and something, maybe 150 ish. I did concider pulling an allnighter the night before to watch all of the remaining ones but I chose against it in the end. I'm happy with the memories I have and not seeing all the videos, because those videos I did watch I'll treasure forever; bing watching them while despritly trying to finish my Level 3 Design board for school.

Working away on Clipstudio paint, and in the corner of my eye laughing, crying, rolling my eyes at the chaios that was unfolding while my wrist screamed at me, my head hurt....I was so sure I was going to burn out again like the two years prior and not manged to finish, but you're videos gave me the strength to do the impossible. If you guys could make over 365 videos in a year, I could finish x2 A1 pannels worth of art and...I did. To a good standard too. I won my schools Top Visual Artist award yesterday at prize giving and top of my Design class.

At first I saw the channel as nothing more than a bit of shit posting, so I wasn't too bothered. A bit of random nonses (It took me soooo long to convince my self to watch cooking with Sex toys, but it was one of the greatest laughs of my month if not longer). The last few months have been hard on me, my family have been waiting 4 and half years to get NZ residency and missing all the Uni application dates and schollarships has had me quite down the last few months listening to everyone around talking about there future plans while I can't progress with mine, because my GOD have you seen international fees???Anyway, your shit posts really helped bring a smile to my face while I was struggling, especailly the halloween stuff: I loved the edward sissors hands, it was the first one I watched and I still love it- so plan and utterly dumb. I'm doing better now. It's still hard, but I really think your videos have have helped me so much.

I think the video which hit hardest for me and acutally helped me to really understand what the channel was about was the hypnotist one with the lemon. What the lady said to both of you really, really hit home hard for me- I'd be lying if I said I didn't cry my eyes out.

Ethan, your story hit home for me because I also went through that as a kid. I was bullied so badly as a kid. Told I was nothing, would be nothing- I have dsylexia too, and I stunk in school for the longest time; bottom of every class, made to take lessons to learn how to put a wooden alphabet together forward and backwards in YEAR 6 (I was 12 and could do so just fine, but the teachers obviously didn't think so). I've been reserved, shy, had the most crippling self of steem issuse for all my life and only in the last few years since moving to NZ I've started to recover and regain some of that confidence I lost; had broken.

"If there was a little girl inside who hurt, who had a discomfort, imagine sitting next to that younger version of you that was in pain or hurt and let her know that she's safe. That little girl looks up to you, trusting you to keep her safe: You're safe." -Unus Annus, 294:11:34:20

It really hit me so hard because I needed someone to tell me this as a kid, hold me close, tell me everything would be ok when I thought my world was crashing down and listing to these words I saw my current self giving back what she needed. And now when I'm scard, doubting myself I see her, I see both of them, current me and past me holding hands and me giving her the support she needs. I have a illustration I made on my desk with the quote, as a reminder when times get tought and that little girl forgetts she's not alone anymore.

Mark, your story also hit home with me too. Like I mentioned, I have dyslexia and for me english -mostly writting- has always been a major problem which had held me back, like a brick chained to my leg and I have to hike up this moutain with it. I still remember disnictly this one time in science I lost out on a high mark because I couldn't spell auoghaous (oesophagus- still can't XD) and my teacher wouldn't believe that was what I had tried to write. I was so bitter about that for the longest time, I still am, 6 years on and still remeber it like yesterday. Anyway, the reason your story hit home is because it reminded me of my old english teacher and what she did to me. Made me into the person I am now. I was in Year 8 (14 years old) and at a parents meeting infront of my dad she said, "you're daughter will never ger higher than a 5- in english. This crushed me so much, because a -5 is avarage for a Year 6 and at this level I should have been getting 5+/6 (like everyone else in my class) - fucking dyslexia. It's like a brick wall of titainium when you're a kid.

I don't know what happened but something in me snapped and I was determained to prove her wrong. I had that teacher for 2 years before I left to NZ (from the UK) and never ONCE did she give me a mark higher than 5- (mostly because the Brittish system require good spelling to reacher 5, something which again, my dyslexia was against and at the time computers weren't a thing in my school as a resorse for dyslexic kids like myself). It sucked, but I kept trying to prove her wrong. I studied, practiced, revised hard and then in my last exam, an external she didn't mark I got a 7+ for reading and 7- for writting with an 8+ being the highest. I proved her wrong. I proved a lot of people wrong. I kept working hard and now I'm near the top of every class I take. You're story reminded me of myself and why I keep pushing myself. Why I continue to drive to achieve the best I can. Be the best person I can.

I know this is long, so before I wrap up I wanted to say thank you. You're channel has not only helped some of my old traumas heal, but I also have a much greater appreciation for life which I guess is crazy concidering I was only apart of it for 16 days, but...it really has made an impact to me. I don't think I ever relised how valuble life is. How important every second is. Death and moving on has always scared me. Moving to NZ and leaving everything I knew and had behind has been one of my biggest trumas for the last 4 years, learning to let go and move on- I use to hate change- ,but now I think I can accept it and move on. I've just finished my last year of high school, I have to make this drastic change in mylife again, moving on, going to uni one day, but I'm ready for it. "Death gives life meaning"; the end, moving on, give the past meaning and means being able to except and be ready to imbrase the future that's coming. Whether in the next few seconds, minutes, hours, weeks, months years... I really do feel better prepared for it.

I hate the end, I've been writting a story now for 3 years and I've been scared of how to end it, I've been avoiding it because I love the characters. I don't want them to go, to end, but now. I think I'm willing to acept the fact that maybe it's time I let them go. Write them the end they deserve and move on. Nothing last forever, all great story are great because like the channel it's the ending which gives them meaning.

So...thank you guys, Mark, Ethan, everyone behind the camera. You're work has really made a possitive impact in my life, escpecally the hynpotist video, so thank you. I'm going to start treasuring every second, making every millifractal of a second count. I've been torn for the longest time between a stable career in science, or a dream career in art. And I'm gonna go for it. I'll take the risk, the gamble, shoot for the stars and if I miss I miss. Atleast I can say I tried to do what made me happy and when I do succed it'll be even more rewarding to know I did the impossible. So thank you, I'll treasure every memory and the page of quote I have from todays live stream.

“Every second is a chance to turn your life around."

"When you get those ideas in your head say YES! You never know how you're going to suprise yourself."

"Death gives life meaning."

"Don't cry because its over, cry because it happened."

"Don't take any second for granted, don't waist any moment."

"It's easy to live life in wants and desires, but it's making every second count that matters. Do what makes you happy, use every second wisely, you'll never get that time back."

And my own personal quote, because I want to give back the wisdom you've shared with my own:

"Memento Mori - Remeber death. Embrace it, don't fear it. Live life to it's fullest and take every opportunity that comes your way, because death is a promise, not a bargain. Life the life you want, so you can move on without regret. "

"Life tough and scary, 2020 for sure, but regardless I smile. Laugh in fears face, it happens. Laugh at the problems in life, they happen. Laugh at how close life comes to and continues to fail at killing you. Fill every moment with joy and positivity; we all need more of it in life."

"Bad days are like cloudy skies, they come and go. The weather can get stormy, but the sky will always clear eventually, the sun will shine again."

#we were here #memento mori #unusannus #unusannusisoverparty

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