#The other guy was still made by Two Sided Coin in an attempt to recreate themself as another organism

[tropicalcontinental]

[agentofscifi]

Super Genius Ch. 3

I march my way through the complex, ignoring the stares off all of the Avengers. My Dad is biting into a bagel as I stop next to him. He swallows quickly. “Happy Birthday Kiddo!”  

I feel my eye twitch. “Peter, Peni, Miles, Anya, and Gwen have all been bitten by radioactive spiders. MJ and Ned seem to be some sort of Superhero backup. Riri and Harley recreated your tech in garages. Are any of these kids normal?”  

My Dad flushes. “How’s you find out?”  

“Peter got surprised, jumped, landed on the ceiling and then stayed there! This is not normal!”  

My Dad opens and closes his mouth. “I can explain!”  

I raise an eyebrow. “Explain what? How every one of your new interns is either helping a superhero, is a superhero, or is on their way to being a Superhero? What is this, the Junior Avengers?”  

My Dad rolls his eyes. “I haven’t coined a name yet, and don’t you mean everyone but you?”  

I raise an eyebrow. “Maybe.” It didn’t matter as much now. My parents in France were told about me being Ladybug after I became the Guardian. The kids all already knew. Harley had looked in my bag for my charging cord last night only to find Tikki. This would be when Peter freaked out and got stuck on the ceiling. Giant talking bugs were not normal in New York, according to Peter. Either way, my superhero ID had already known to the rest of the kids.  

My Dad does a double take. “What does “maybe” mean?”  

I shrug. “Maybe means that I was given a pair of magical earrings with a tiny goddess that’s attached to them when I was 12 and that I’ve been fighting a magical terrorist for the past 3 years while in Paris.”  

Everyone is looking at me once again. My Father is blinking rapidly. “This is a joke, right?”  

Tikki suddenly pops up in the air next to me. “Hi, I’m Tikki! I’m the Ladybug Kawami.”  

A disheveled Clint looks up from his cup of coffee before slowly grabbing a newspaper and rolling it up. “Stark, don’t move. There’s a giant floating bug.”  

I reach forward and snatch the newspaper from his hand. “She’s a goddess.”  

Clint closes his eyes slowly. “So, no huge bug bites from the giant floating bug goddess?”  

I resist the urge to facepalm. “No, there won’t be any bug bites. Drink your coffee.” Clint nods and slowly starts to sip on his coffee again.  

My Dad clears his throat. “Magical terrorist?”  

“Who uses evil butterflies to possess people.”  

My Dad stares at me then looks to the ceiling. “FRIDAY? Is my daughter on drugs?”  

“No, Mr. Stark. Further research has turned up a few blogs and news articles speaking of Ladybug, Chat Noir, and several other heroes fighting a Hawkmoth and Mayura.”  

My Dad furrows his brow. “Is Paris on drugs?”  

I roll my eyes. “No, Dad. This is not the point. Are you, or are you not, starting some kind of Junior Justice League?”  

My father gives me a playful glare. “Mari, you know me. I’m just mentoring.”  

“So you are starting a Junior Justice League.” I throw my hands into the air. “You have got to be kidding me!”  

“Marinette!” My Dad is whining now, like a child.  

I roll my eyes and decide to skip out on the rest of my questions involving my Father’s collection of teenage superheroes. “Dinner with Pepper, Rodney, and Happy tonight?”  

He smiles. “Of course, at your favorite restaurant!”  

I peak him on the cheek. “Love you Dad!” I twist around on my heels and hit the button for the elevator.  

Sam blinks as I step into the elevator. Tikki waves at Sam, who hesitantly waves back. “What’s with the floating giant bug in the elevator?”  

“The tiny goddess attached to Tony’s kid’s earrings that she used to fight a magical terrorist in France that’s possessing people with butterflies.” Natasha leans back in her seat, sipping on a cup of coffee.  

Sam rubs his eyes and looks back at Tikki, who is still waving cheekily. “I’m going back to bed.”  

The elevator door closes as Sam turns back around to go to bed.  

A few seconds later I end up back in the Teen living room. Harley looks up as I walk back in. “So, are we the Junior Justice League?”  

“Yup. You guys ready for today?”  

Ned briefly throws his hands up in the air. “5 Days of Star Wars in less than 24 hours!”  

MJ rolls her eyes as she finishes up the shopping list. “It’s 7 days Ned. We need to sleep.”  

“Sleep is for the weak!” Peni sitting on top of her robot, her spider resting on her shoulder.  

Anya sighs and runs a hand over her face. “I cannot believe I am doing this.”  

My mouth splits wide open. “Doing what Anya? Adding an AI to the Avengers Tower, freeing ourselves of the Baby Monitors, and rebelling form the man upstairs.”  

Gwen looks over the back of the couch with a raised eyebrow. “Is the man your father?”  

“Yes and if he was in my shoes, he’d be doing the exact same thing.”  

Gwen shrugs. “Probably.”  

“I’m sorry!” Peter looks around at all of us. “Are we all just going to go with the tiny goddess living in our...apartment, the girl with magical earrings, and the terrorist in Paris with magical butterflies possessing people?”  

“Peter,” Miles looks up from the sketch book in his hand. “There's a wizard with a semi-sentiate cape living in New York. The tiny goddess makes more sense than the cape. The evil butterflies, I’ll give you that. That’s just weird.”  

I click my tongue. “Says the kid who developed invisibility after being bitten by a spider. That’s weird.”  

Miles holds his hands up. “Agree to disagree.” He reaches down and holds up his paper. It was done in colored pencil, but was drawn as if it was spray painted. It was a large yin-yang symbol, however, a spider sat in the Yin circle of the Yang side and the arc reactor symbol sat in the Yang circle of the Yin side. “What do you think?”  

“I think we need to add spray paint to the shopping list. We have our symbol of rebellion.”  

Harley shrugs again. “Or the symbol of our Junior Avengers?”  

Riri glares up at Harley. “Way to ruin the moment, country boy.”  

Back in Paris  

Lila’s POV  

Alya squeals as Miss. Bustier smiles before the collection of students. Technically, Lycée was out for the year, but after months of fundraising and paperwork, the Akuma Class of Lycée Françoise Dupont was attending the International Technology Showcase in Washington D.C. in 2 months. A sizable anonymous donation was sent to the school. I had already spun a story telling all of my sheep that Tony Stark sent the money so that we could see the Showcase in D.C.  

Max had already planned on attending the showcase this summer, as he was showing off a computer program of his. With the announcement that the school would be covering the rest of the trip, several other students in the class were considering adding their own inventions to the showcase. I would have to whip something up and then maybe I’d be able to catch the eye of someone at the showcase. Science wasn’t where I wanted to end up, but winning some award at a huge competition for a bunch of nerds would look great on my portfolio.  

I give a loud sigh. “This sounds great, but unfortunately, my designs went missing. I had this amazing idea that I worked out with Tony Stark. The equations and blueprints disappeared out of my bag on the last day of school.” 3, 2, 1, and!  

Alya gasps. “I bet it was Marinette, just like your laptop Lila!”  

“Did you ever go to the police, Lila?” Rose is giving me one of those obnoxious smiles.  

“I tried, but since I didn’t have any proof, they said they couldn’t do much. Marinette must have reset the tablet.” I give a few sniffs as the class tries to comfort me.  

“You know, I bet if we told Marinette’s parents they’d believe us!” Alya stands up from the benches just outside the school. “I bet they’ll force Marientte to give back Lila’s laptop.”  

A brief wave of shock rolls over me. That was something I hadn’t considered yet, turning Ms. Goodie-Tooshoe’s parents against her. The iPad idea might not work alone, but with all the other stories I had made up, I could probably convince them. “Well, if you think it’s the best thing to do.”  

The whole class makes their way over to the bakery, Alya at the lead. I let the class escort me over, as if I didn’t want to be bothering the two bakers.  

Alya slams open the front door, the bell’s ring catching the attention of the two people behind the register, as well as the woman attempting to order. Both of Marientte’s parents give the class smiles, however, they seem hesitant. “Hello kids,” Marinette’s mother waves to us. “I’ll be with you in a second.”  

Alya, instead, marches her way towards the counter and pushes the woman aside. “Mrs. Dupain-Cheng, we have something important to talk to you about!”  

Said woman’s smile falls instantly as the other woman rubs her side. I immediately knew this wouldn’t go to plan. I’d have to adapt to get things my way. “Alya, I’m with a customer. It will have to wait a few minutes.”  

Alya rolls her eyes. “This is more important. Where’s Marinette?”  

Mrs. Dupain-Cheng crosses her arms over her chest. “Marinette isn’t here. What is this all about?”  

“Mari’s been bullying Lila!” Alya points back to me and I give a small wave. “She’s stolen things from her, called her a liar, has sent mean texts, and just a few days ago, she took Lila’s iPad and some tech plans Lila worked out with Tony Stark.”  

Marinette’s parents share a look before her mother bursts out laughing. Alya rears back her head in shock and I can’t even hide my surprise. Mrs. Dupain-Cheng looks back at us. “Marinette didn’t steal any tech plans. She doesn’t need to.”  

Alya opens and closes her mouth a few times. “What! Of course she does! She’s a complete scatterbrain.”  

Mrs. Dupain-Cheng’s eyes darken. “My daughter skipped a year of school and still had the best grades in your class, hell, in your year. She managed to have these top grades while juggling her class’ work, class representative duties and all of your outrageous requests that were usual last minute and always free.”  

Several of my classmates are red or pale after those words. This was not going my way at all. I give Marinette’s mother a big smile. “Well, that’s what friends do, they help each other.”  

Mrs. Dupain-Cheng raises an eyebrow. “Right. I suppose this is why my daughter spent countless nights and hundreds of euros on fabrics for commission she was never paid for. Or, why Marinette was told she’d be babysitting three little kids for free while their older siblings went on dates with the money their parents gave them for babysitting. Or why she was told she was being selfish everytime she tried to ask for help.”  

I let my smile fall. This was not going to plan at all. “She stole things from Lila!” Alya has a look of disbelief on her face. “She stole important work. So what if Marinette’s a year ahead. Max still has way better grades than her. You’ll see next year when we restart classes.”   

Max’s chest puffs out in pride. I have to stop myself from rolling my eyes. Mrs. Dupain-Cheng just raises an eyebrow. “Go to the police then, if my daughter has stolen something. As for next year, Marinette graduated Lycée last week after years of working ahead. She’s attending MIT in the fall.”  

This could not be happening. Adrien looks at Marinette’s mother with shocked eyes. “Why didn’t she tell us?”  

At the same time Alya screams. “What!”  

The eyebrow is raised even high. “Because you told my daughter that you weren’t friends with her anymore. Now, you had barged into my shop, pushed a client, and rudely interrupted a sale. Please leave!”  

“But-”  

“Now!” The class scurried out the door, me along with them. Marinette’s mother looked truly angry.  

We all stand outside the shop, several of my sheep looking completely confused. Since when was Ms. Goodie-Goodie smart enough to graduate two years early?  

I huff and I slowly make my way up the staircase of the Dupain-Cheng home. I need something for this showcase and if Marientte is as smart as her mother says she is, then she’d have something. I managed to pick the lock of the bakery and make my way up to the attic that Marinette called a room.  

It was bare. That was the best way to describe the room. All of the walls were empty of decorations. The desk had nothing on it either. All that was left was the basic furniture and the sheets on the bed. I try all of the desk drawers and even under the bed, nothing. Then, I remember it the board Alya told me about. The schedule of Adrien’s that Marinette had kept.  

I rooted around at the edge of the bed until I found it. The edge of the board. Smiling, I pull it all the way down. It was several layers of plans on top of each other. There were details about several apps, some green projects and well as some super resistant fabric for firefighters. What really caught my eye was the equations and blue prints for a small device that would wirelessly charge any device in a 50 radius. I snap photos of all layers of plans. If I could get this stuff out there, I could make thousands, and all with the help of Marinette. The only issue would be if Marinette came after me for stealing her work. Who was I kidding, that wouldn’t be an issue. I’d just shed some tears and tell everyone about Marinette’s bullying. I had school records to back me up. It’s not like anyone would believe her if she said she did the work.  

New York City

Marinette’s POV

I click my tongue as a notification pops up on my phone. After Chloe had broken into my room I’d set up security cameras and motion sensor alerts in case anyone else tried something. A good idea seeing as Lila was currently picking at things in my room. I raise an eyebrow as she pulls down my chart and starts to take photos of my inventions on there.  

“Everything alright?” Riri stops at shoulder and looks over at the phone. “What is she doing?”  

“She is taking photos of my ideas. The coding for a few apps, blueprints for some green energy things, the information required for my super resistant firefighter fabric and an invention I got a patent back on last week. It goes on sale in a month with Stark Industries.”  

“Cool. How does she expect to get away with this?”   

“Didn’t you hear!” I pick up an overly fake fangirl tone of voice. “It’s Lila Rossi! She’s Ladybug’s best friend, she saved Jagged Stone’s kitten, she does all kinds of environmental charities with Prince Ali, she helps the Avengers and all while having arthritis, sprained ankles and wrists, and tinnitus that switches ears every few hours.”  

Peter stops in the middle of the living room, a look of complete confusion on his face. “I thought Jagged Stone had a crocodile?”  

“He does Peter.”  

“Since when does Tinnitus switch ears?” Peter is still confused.  

“Since she saved Jagged Stone’s cat from an airplane.”  

Harley snorts from the edge of the kitchen. “This sounds like fantasy.”  

I groan. “You’d think, but my class all believes her. Max made a freaking A.I robot, with emotions, but believes that a paper napkin could cut his eye. He wears glasses.”  

“What did Hawkmoth lower your class’ IQs or something?” Anya settles down into the nest we had made in the past hour.  

“A leading theory.”  

The phone rings with a facetime request. I hit the accept button and my father’s face pops up with a stack of papers in his hands. “What is this?”  

I raise an eyebrow. “You got our declaration of independence.”  

My father looks unimpressed. “What is this?”  

Riri is grinning next to me. “Our declaration of independence.”  

“What does that mean?” I can’t but laugh at the confused expression on my Dad’s face.   

Harley pops up on my other shoulder. “No baby monitoring protocols!”  

“Junk food all day!” Miles yells from his spot.  

“No bedtime!” Peni is cheering. Sometimes I forget how young she is.  

There’s laughing in the background from my father’s end. “Tony, are the kids beating you up?” I recognize Bucky’s voice in the background.  

My father ignores the comment. “How did you block FRIDAY?”  

“Simple, I added in my own AI. I left the backdoor open years ago.”  

“You have an AI?” My father’s face is torn between confusion and pride.  

“JADA. Junior Avengers Defying Adults.”  

“Mari!” My Dad is whining again.  

“You have 5-6 days to review our Declaration, we will be occupied during this time. We have a lawyer, for the record.”  

“Do I want to know what you’ll be doing?”  

“Star Wars marathon. All 12 movies, along with all 7 seasons of Clone Wars, the first season of the Bad Batch, all 4 seasons of Rebels, and the two seasons of The Mandalorian. If we don’t sleep, it’s roughly 7711 minutes of Star Wars, which is 128 hours and 31 minutes or 5 days and eight hours. So, when you see us again is entirely dependent on how long we can go without sleep.”  

“I worry about you sometimes.”  

“ I’ve got to go. Ned just put in the first film.”

“Just one question. What is on the floor behind you?”  

I looked over my shoulder at the nest that had been put together over the past hour. Riri was settling into her spot. “That’s 6 mattresses, 19 blankets, and about a dozen pillows.”  

“Why?”  

“Couches are boring.”  

“Ok, now I’m worried about all of you.”  

“Goodbye Dad!”

Before ~~~~~~ Next

[darkmindsthinktwistedthoughts]

False Protection

Warning: a little angst fluff from a certain Dummy.

Masterlist

---

False Protection

“You complete and total blockhead Yuki!” The bed chamber’s door slid back so fast he felt the room tremble and thought the wall might fall down. His usually smiling wife was red-faced furious and looking at him like a wild animal.

“Blockhead! Blockhead! Blockhead! Hehe!” Bouncing around her ankles was their daughter happily chanting her mother’s insult.

“Hey! I’m the only one that gets to call your father that. You just call him Daddy.” Her tone had softened as she spoke to their child it felt strange to see the shift given how angry she had been seconds before.

Yukimura sat bewildered on the futon. His armour was carefully assembled on its stand in the room again but he suddenly wanted to don it for whatever protection it might give against his Princess on a rampage.

“Hey calm down!”

“Calm – Calm down? How can you tell me to do that?” He saw many things during battle. Many things he couldn’t unsee and things he also hated, still it hurt every time. But nothing compared to seeing his wife lose her smile and her eyes swimming with unshed tears. She turned again to their child and continued talking to her “Sweetheart can you go find Uncle Sasuke and play with him for a bit please?”

“But I wanna see Daddy!” The little girl pouted and crossed her arms across her chest in the most adorable way.

“I know but right now grown-ups need to talk first you can see Daddy in a little bit ok?” Aerion bent down and stroked the little girl’s hair.

“Promise?” The child turned her big blue eyes up at her mother.

“Promise.”

Apparently happy with this the child turned around and began to scamper down the corridor outside calling for Sasuke. Yukimura might have laughed at that had he not already fallen victim once more to his wife’s glare that had him pinned in place.

“What do you think you were doing?” Aerion asked as soon as their child was out of earshot.

“It was a battle. You know what I was doing.” Yukimura attempted to shrug only to be reminded of the tight bandages binding his torso and the pain from trying to move the torn muscle structure of his body.

“I would have excepted something like this from Masa but not from my own husband.” Aerion grumbled pinching the bridge of her nose with her eyes scrunched shut. It was bad enough that he knew he had indirectly hurt her but to have her bring up another guy at this time was almost beyond the limit for him too.

“Could you not bring up your ‘brother’ right now? And I told you I’m fine. I’m still here aren’t I?” His words came out harsher than he intended and instantly regretted it when she opened her eyes and he could see they were wetter than before.

“In how many pieces?” Her voice was forced control. She was managing to keep the trembling out of it allowing it to stay even. “I would never tell you not to fight. I don’t tell you what to do any more than you would tell me. But please dear you have to try to at least think of it from my point of view when you get home.”

“Stop being a dummy you worry too much. I’ve had far worse injuries over the years and I’m fine.” Yukimura had shifted into his defiant offensive state if for no other reason than he felt like his wife was overreacting.

“Would you like to see me injured?” Aerion asked the question quietly as she turned her head to his armour. Her eyes raked over it taking in every piece of damage and bloodstain.

“WHAT!? OF COURSE NOT! What a stupid question. I fight so I can protect you why the hell would I want to see you hurt?” He raised his voice completely unable to control the panic in it.

“Then why is it so hard to understand that I DON’T like to see YOU hurt either? When are you going to get it into that thick head of yours that when you hurt I hurt too?” Aerion spat out those words without even looking at him and spun around on the spot slamming the sliding door shut behind her as she left.

*

“Mummy, Mummy!” The little girl ran up to her mother her pink hakama sporting a couple of stains that resembled grass and mud. “Sasuke was showing me how to avoid kunai!”

“Was he now? Well don’t let your father know that or he’ll hit the roof.” Aerion chuckled as she looked at the little girl’s beaming smile.

“I pride myself on my training and skill to know at no point did what I was doing mean that the little Princess was ever in danger.” Sasuke appeared out of nothingness at their side bringing with him a feeling of secure calm like a soft breeze.

“As expected from the best Ninja I know.” Aerion smiled at her friend ignoring the slight blush he had on his face for a few seconds.

“Mummy, can I go get some cake now?” Her daughter asked pulling on the hem of her kimono.

“You haven’t had dinner yet.” Attempting to give a show of resistance to the idea Aerion quickly changed tactic and bent down to whisper in the child’s ear. “Fine but don’t tell Daddy.”

“YAY!”

Taking off running at full speed Aerion watched and laughed noting that her daughter once more was barefoot and the dirt on the hakama was nothing to the mud under it.

“You don’t look any less stressed than before.” Sasuke watched the little Princess run away as well a smile on his face.

“Sometimes it’s hard to tell if you are naturally this observant or if it’s something you picked up in training.” Aerion sighed and plonked down on the grass, drawing her knees up to her chin.

“A little of both.” Sasuke said as he joined her. Sitting a respectable distance away whilst still being close enough that he could speak to her without shouting. “Let me guess he didn’t exactly open up when you spoke to him and probably said something that made it all worse.”

“You know him too well. I wouldn’t exactly say he said something that made it worse I mean he was just Yuki being Yuki.” Aerion shrugged.

“Are you alright?”

“Shouldn’t you be asking you BFF that?” Aerion looked over her shoulder at him her hair falling loose from her head. It never stayed put in any style it was something he loved about her. It summed her up in a simple way. A force that was not easy to control.

“I am. You are both my BFFs. Besides Yukimura tends to look after himself in these situations if he wants me he calls. You Aerion tend to brood and not say anything.” Sasuke announced his observation flatly and adjusted his glasses in an effort to distract his mind from venturing down a path he had long since given up on following.

“Are you trying to pick a fight?” Aerion laughed swatting his shoulder lightly.

“Not at all. I was pointing out that my two BFF’s are a perfect pair. I actually admire your tenacity and strength to continue with it.” At his words, her eyes widened before turning away from him and focusing their gaze on something far away.

“That’s a nice way of calling me stubborn and stupid. Thanks, Sasuke.”

“Whatever for?”

“Just being here.” She lowered her chin onto her knees and fell silent again.

“I’ll always be here for you Aerion.”

*

Paperwork felt like it was recreating itself faster than he could finish it. It had been a week since the last battle and a few days since his wife had yelled at him in their room. She had not returned once she left which allowed his own head to stew and mull over what had been said.

All he had ever wanted to do was keep her safe and protect her. He wanted to be strong enough to do that and when they had their child to those feelings only intensified. How did it come to this?

-Sigh-

Rubbing his shoulder with one hand he let his brush drop on the desk. Little flecks of ink splattered from its bristles as it rolled. He was tired and sore and the one thing he needed…. Wanted… was avoiding him for the time being.

“That was a big sigh”

“Ah! Oh, for hell’s sake Sasuke don’t make me jump like that it hurts!” Yukimura whipped around on his cushion and glared at his friend.

“Sorry.”

“Something tells me you’re not really being sincere.” Yukimura huffed retrieving his brush and placing it by the inkstone.

“You got me.” Sasuke came closer and took a seat looking at the papers on the desk momentarily before continuing. “Yukimura you are one of the most straight forward, determined and historically amazing people I know.”

“… thanks I guess.”

“But you are also not very honest with your own feelings. Easily embarrassed and blunter than a ladle.”

“Hey!” Sasuke’s rare show of uncandid fault-finding had caused him to shout.

“Can you deny that?”

“This is about Aerion isn’t it? Did she send you here?” Ignoring the rest of his papers for the time being Yuki huffed like his daughter and once more took on a defensive attitude.

“No, she didn’t. She wouldn’t. I am here because whilst I am aware that you two will make up sooner or later there is another factor that cannot be allowed to be affected anymore by this state of affairs.”

“There you go talking in riddles again.” In all the years he had known Sasuke he knew enough to know that the guy meant well even if there were times when he made no sense with what he was saying. It wasn’t his fault but Yukimura had wondered what village would teach someone to talk like he did.

“I’m talking about your daughter. Aerion knows that she is to coin a modern term a ‘Daddy’s girl’ and has done everything she can to shield the child from realising you are not only injured but have been away from home for work for a while.” What Sasuke was saying was nothing but the truth. Yuki knew that and it was also why it was so hard to argue against it. This was wrong he knew that too but it was difficult to move forward and correct things when you were facing someone who could be just as stubborn and bull-headed on a topic as you could.

“She doesn’t have to do that.”

“Oh? And how much do you think a child can comprehend of a grown-up’s misfortune?” Sasuke asked the question before he could stop himself. He knew from watching Yuki that he had been brooding just as must as his wife. Things had been said and both were hurt. “I’m not asking you to do much Yukimura but I cannot take seeing my only two BFF’s in this world silently fighting. It is only a matter of time before your daughter figures it out as well.” Sasuke decided to leave before saying anything else on the topic. He trusted his friend to know when to make the first move and find his wife. But there were times when he needed that little shove of a reminder to make the move sooner rather than later.

*

It was much later than dinner when he managed to make it back to their room. The lanterns had been lit by the maids but he knew there was a good chance it would be empty on his return.

He had never been good with emotional women. There was something about them that scared him. They were more erratic than an angry wild boar, but that was not the main reason. The main reason he found them so scary was the feeling of helplessness he had when looking at them screaming and crying. The knowledge that he couldn’t do anything to stop the tears and make it all better no matter how much he tried to sent him back in time to being a helpless little boy watching his home burning.

Ghosts of the past passing over his current life as if they were shadows. Masking the light of the sun and plunging his thoughts into darkness. His hand stopped before it could touch the door and he cast his eyes out into the gardens of the castle.

Bathing in the moonlight the plants and rocks looked mystical. The way the colours changed and glowed had him thinking of far off lands and tales from the past. Places where mythical creatures dwelled waiting for unsuspecting humans.

Under the tree by the reflecting pool stood the figure of someone he knew all too well. His wife. In a land of moonlight, she probably fitted in all too well but it did make him want to run to her side to remind her to come home again. To follow him back to where the sunlight could find her. Something about her standing there alone made him think of all that. She suddenly looked fragile. His strong stubborn love in the silvery rays.  

“Aerion!” He called out before he could reach her and was a little pleased when she turned to him giving him a faint smile.

“That’s my name.” Her blue eyes looked almost grey in the muted light, but her white hair sparkled like starlight.

“What are you doing out here? You’re going to catch a cold.” Yukimura removed his own haori and wrapped her up tight inside it.

“You finally remembered one thing Shingen told you then?” She made no attempt to brush away his hands as they touched her chilled skin instead she teased him as she always did.

“Don’t start. Look I –”

“I’m sorry.” She cut him off before he could speak.

“What?”

“I’m sorry. I realise its hard for you too and I was kind of only thinking of things from my side but I can’t hold back with you sometimes. You never tell me what you are really thinking and half of what you do I don’t find out about until it’s happened. You probably think it’s protecting me but it’s not. I want to know I want you to tell me I don’t care if it seems insignificant to you. I want to know Yuki I can’t take not knowing and then having to deal with curveballs out of nowhere.” Everything came flowing out of her in a giant torrent. Every thought and feeling she had been masking on full display at a speed that made his own head spin.

“Hey hey calm down.” He was at a loss as to what to do and settled on grabbing her and giving her a hug. Pressing her face into his chest as he stroked her hair. She could probably feel his own heart pounding but he couldn’t care less about that right now. “Dummy I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere I’m sorry I know I stressed you I didn’t mean to make it happen like that.”

“Promise me you won’t do it again. You said we were in this together. You said we are a team remember?” Her muffled voice was so earnest as she spoke it made him smile. She was back where she belonged. He had her by his side and she would be in the sun with him tomorrow as always.

“Yeah, I do. Of course, I do. I promise. I’m sorry too.”

---

[haleyreads4you]

No Laughing Matter

Why Gotham’s Crown Prince of Crime Doesn’t Deserve a Backstory

If you haven’t heard, DC is releasing a new live action movie entitled The Joker, scheduled to be released on October 4th later this year.  The movie is supposed to take us on a journey to see the beginning of this notorious villain, and hopefully give a better understanding on why he is the way he is. Usually this is fantastic! Villains, bad guys, antagonist, whatever you call them, are always so much more interesting when you get to see the reasoning behind their actions, and after all the Joker has done, who wouldn’t want to know. The short answer, is me. 

The longer answer, (which I’m about to give you,) is that honestly, no real DC or Batman fan should want to see a Joker backstory. Believe it or not, he actually has one already, and I promise you it’s not going to be the one you see in the movie. It simply isn’t that complex. If you can’t tell, I am a huge DC, (especially the Batfam,) fan, and if you’re not that’s okay! I’m honestly shocked if you read this far without being a DC fan. Nonetheless, I’m going to be giving as much background as I possibly can to flush out my points throughout this, so you don’t have to possess prior knowledge. Now, I will not claim to be an expert on DC, or Batman, and especially not on the Joker himself, but I do like to think I know quite a bit. That being said, if I miss something, or get the facts wrong, feel free to refute me! A huge point of all these dumb essays I’m writing is to get the conversation going! Now with all the logistics and introductions out of the way, here’s why I think the Joker doesn’t deserve his own movie (or back story.)

The Joker is arguably the most famous of Batman’s rogues. With countless reiterations, and big name stars playing him in adaptation after adaptation, it’s no wonder that he’s built up a name for himself. Not only that, but the Joker is one villain whose actions we simply can’t explain. We know Two-Face, AKA Harvey Dent, was seriously disfigured after a man he prosecuted threw acid on his face, destroying his lucky coin in the process. The incident made him crazy, and he wrecks havoc on the city with his destroyed coin asking people “heads or tails?” We know Mr. Freeze, AKA Victor Fries, became a criminal after a failed attempt to save his terminally ill wife left him with sub-zero body temperatures, forcing him to wear the cryo suit forever. His involvement with crime is him still attempting to raise funds to find a cure for her. We know one of my personal favorites, Scarecrow, AKA Dr. Jonathan Crane, an ex psychology professor at Gotham University remains obsessed with the idea of fear and phobias. He now uses the citizens of Gotham as his lab rats to test his ever evolving fear toxin. I could keep going on, (Batman has an impressive rogue gallery,) but the point is we know why all the villains do the things that they do. We don’t know that for the Joker, and out of all of Batman’s rogues, he’s the one that continues to commit the most heinous crimes of all. It leaves us all asking why? Why does he do the things he does? It even leaves Batman stumped. Heck, it leaves other villians stumped!! Ra’s Al Ghul, head of the League of Shadows, has said he doesn’t like working with the Joker, because he’s wild and unpredictable. According to this logic, the Joker should be first in line to get his own back story.

To find the reason why he shouldn’t we have to look pretty far back in this character’s history. When the Joker first appeared in the Batman comics, he never appeared simply as “the Joker.” Multiple iterations of this simplistic “backstory” have been done, and can also be seen as far back as Batman: Year One, (even though the “Joker” himself is not actually featured,) but each time the Joker always appears, it is always first as an unassuming lowlife calling himself “the Red Hood.” This is so freaking important to how the Joker impacts the characters around him, and I’ll tell you why soon, but I can almost guarantee you it is not going to be in the new Joker film. Not only is this Red Hood portion of the Joker’s career important for reasons to be later explained, but it’s also important that in multiple, though not all, iterations of the Joker’s introduction it’s Batman’s fault. Not inherently of course. Batman always catches the Red Hood in some kind of factory, (a popular location is a playing card factory,) and in an attempt to catch him, the Red Hood always ends up falling into a vat of acid. This is the vat of acid that of course warps his appearance, (the white skin, green hair, and red lips,) and what ultimately drives him mad. In how he actually gets in the vat, well sometimes he jumps on purpose, because he’s been cornered by the Bat, sometimes he just slips, and Bruce is too late to catch him, but either way it’s always something that weighs on Bruce. It’s another reason on top of Batman’s no kill policy that he can’t bring himself to end the Joker. Despite paralyzing Barbra Gordon as Batgirl and murdering his son, Bruce can’t end the Joker, because he partly feels like the Joker is his fault. It’s his mess that he made, and a mess that he has to fix.

This introduction of the Joker as the Red Hood and tying his creation to a young emerging Batman is so important to the characters’ relationships to each other throughout their still changing course of comic history, that to negate it with this upcoming movie is almost like recreating a brand new villain. It is also important to note that because the Joker started out as a masked criminal, he remains a John Doe to this very day in comic history. This is crucial to not understanding the Joker, (an important aspect of his character,) because any time a new rogue pops up, Bruce tries his damndest to learn their real identity. Identifying the person beneath the horror helps him better know what angle to work at when going up against them, as well as what to look for, and realizing that violence usually isn’t the best answer for dealing with them. By keeping the Joker a John Doe, it keeps not only us, the audience, in the dark about trying to understand this psychotic character, but the characters in universe in the dark as well. By not knowing the Joker’s past or intentions, it actually makes him scarier, because it leaves him unpredictable, and, in a sense, strips him of his humanity. By giving this character an actual identity, you destroy the mysterious unknown behind the character, make him human enough than an audience can relate to him, and almost, in a sense, strip him of what makes him a good villain in the first place.

Now my last, and what I personally view as one of the most important reasons, on why the Joker really shouldn’t have his own movie, is because it would destroy his tragically beautiful connection to Jason Todd. If you missed it earlier, I briefly mentioned that the Joker killed Bruce’s son, and that was because I planned to go more in depth now.

I need to stop referencing material that hasn’t been written yet. If you don’t know, Jason Todd is the second character to take on the mantle of Robin. Yes, there was more than one Robin. As of current day material, there are four officially recognized holders of the mantle, (sorry Stephanie,) in the order of Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Timothy Drake, and the current only blood son of Burce, Damian Wayne. Jason was taken in by Bruce off of Crime Alley, after he was found trying to steal the cars off of the Batmobile. Officially adopting him as his own and taking him under his wing, Bruce soon hands the mantle of Robin to Jason as Dick had recently left, and the two take to the streets fighting crime and punching bad guys. Unfortunately, this doesn’t last very long, and Jason ends up beaten nearly to death by the Joker with a crowbar in an abandoned warehouse before the Joker blows it up, seconds before Bruce arrives. Oh no. (There’s a very iconic picture of Bruce holding Jason’s dead body, if you google “batman a death in the family.) This was an absolutely pivotal part to Bruce’s character. How Bruce acts after the death of Jason had been unseen before. He became violent and angry, and almost crossed the line he swore to himself he’d never cross. Jason’s death is a staple in DC comic lore.

That isn’t the important part here though. The important part is what comes after. See, 95% of the time, if a character dies in the DC Universe, it’s not for very long, because comics. A couple of years later, Jason is brought back to life via the Lazarus Pit with the help of the League of Assassins. As I’m writing this, it is one in the morning, and I am too tired to explain why the Shadows were involved. If you’re really interested, there’s a crap ton of information on it on wikis and stuff, so it won’t be hard to find. Anyways, Jason comes back to life really messed up and in a murderous rage. He heads back to Gotham to hunt down Bruce but this time not as Jason Todd, not as Robin, but as the Red Hood. It’s perfect cinematic poetry! Yes, cinematic!! Under the Red Hood is one of the most famous comic books about Jason Todd’s return, as well as arguably one of the best DC animated films of all time! But that’s not the point. The point is, that Jason Todd comes back from the dead, and the alias he takes up is the same alias that his killer once owned. Jason does eventually kind of come back to the “good side” as a sort of anti hero, but the parallels between him and the Joker are gorgeous. Both driven mad after being thrown into a vat of mysterious liquid, except for where it was the Joker’s before, it’s Jason’s after. The idea of a young boy being beaten to death, only to come back and take the name of his killer should shake you to your core. Not only that, but imagine Bruce’s horror when he realizes there’s another terror ripping through his city bearing the same name his arch nemesis first wore. And that’s before he even realizes it’s his resurrected son! You can’t dismiss writing like that, especially when it comes to comic books! DC especially, openly admitted that its story lines take place in the multiverse, which basically means anything goes. That’s where you get stories like The Flashpoint Paradox and Crisis on Two Earths. The fact that this idea of the Red Hood being passed down from the Joker to Jason seems to be a universal constant cannot be overlooked. By giving the Joker a more in depth backstory that strays from the one that currently exists, you rip that hard work out of the author’s hands, as well as destroy an impactful connection between some of the Batman Universe’s best and most complex characters.

This whole thing ended up being a lot longer than I anticipated, so thank you if you made it to the end. All of this being said, I stand by my opinion that out of all that characters in the DC universe, the Joker should be at the end of the line to get his own movie. Will I still end up seeing it in theatres? The jury’s out right now. I’m a broke college kid living in New York; there are more things I want to see than a movie I don’t think should exist. I might watch it one day, as the assumption that all of these points won’t be made in the movie is made purely off of the trailers and not the content of the film itself. If I ever do watch it, y’all will be the first to know, but until then this is where I stand. Don’t let this ruin the film for you if you planned on going to go watch it. Like stated in the beginning, these are all my own opinions, and I prefer the comics to the movies. The movies can also be seen as existing in their own realm, and in that case none of my points stand at all. It’s up to you to make your own judgement.

But ask yourself this, as you sit down in the theatre with a large tub of popcorn. What do you think people will benefit from trying to see into the mind of the one of the world’s most famous psychopath?

[simkaswriting]

History-(Sweet-Pea)

Characters: Veronica, Toni, Fangs, Jughead, Sweet-Pea and (Y/N)

Pairing: hint at Sweet-Pea x Reader

Warnings: some swearing oh no jeez 

Word Count: 1816

Summary: (Y/N) and Sweet-Pea get set up by their friends

A/N- this was kinda fun to write, not exactly the ending I thought this would have, a bit of a slow burn, and I’m so glad I wrote this because it’s been way too long since I’ve written for Riverdale:)))

“I promise you’ll love her. She’s a sweet girl, like the female incarnation of Mr Darcy, and I bet she’ll be more than happy to help you if you need it.” Veronica smiles reassuringly at the new transfer students sitting on the sofas in the recreation room. The Serpents look amongst themselves dubiously. It was a well known fact at Riverdale High that (Y/N) Mantle had the reputation of a girl who nobody messed with. Her GPA was a 4.0, her heels higher than Ghoulies on Jingle Jangle and her attitude rivalled that of Cheryl Blossom. But despite her love for fashion and fiery demeanour, the girl had a soft side. Her love for books and nature often confused even her brother, as did her soft-spoken tone. However, there are two sides to each coin, as a particular raven-haired boy would come to find out.

(Y/N) frowns down at the book in her hands, a mini copy of Lord of the Flies wanting her to yell out in frustration. How could those innocent boys do such horrendous things? She vaguely notices the door to the recreation room, almost passing it, before she makes a sharp left turn and slowly comes to a stop in the middle of the room. Skimming over the last few lines of the chapter, the girl puts her book into her purse, careful to not bend the cover, before looking up with a smile. But instead of finding her friends lounging around, she faces a group of leather-clad Southsiders. 

Her first thought is ‘what the hell’, however, as she takes in the almost-kind looks on the students faces, she things ‘ah, what the hell’. With a small smile, her heels carry her to one of the sofas that aren’t taken. As she sits, a purple-haired girl next to her, she glances around once again.

“So unless Principal Weatherbee issued out a new policy stating that leather is now mandatory to wear, I’m going to assume I missed something big.” (Y/N) raises her brow at the closest three people, all Serpents as far as she can see. They look at each other with a ‘how clueless is she’ look, before the girl with purple hair looks at (Y/N).

“Southside High closed, and despite the public outcry, here we are, the Southside scum among Riverdale royalty. I’m Toni, by the way.” She smirks, shaking her head as if still not believing this is her new reality.

A small ‘O’ forms on (Y/N) Mantle’s lips, now realising that her predictions were right. And with a sinking heart, she realises that her brother Reggie would possibly murder her if he seen her with the Southsiders. 

Across from (Y/N), a tall and intrigued guy looks at her with partial wonder, and partial hesitation. Despite her look, which makes her look like one of the Southsiders, her face is familiar. Not someone he’s seen before, but perhaps someone related to that someone. 

The girl smiles at the three, an innocent and welcoming one. “I’m (Y/N) Mantle, and welcome to Riverdale High.”

Sweet-Pea plays around with the straw to his milkshake, thoughts of (Y/N) brewing up a storm in his mind. How can someone so sweet, yet obviously capable of throwing a few punches, be related to that idiot Mantle? Is there even the slightest possibility that the mysterious girl would talk to him, knowing he’s a sworn enemy to her own blood? It’s thought’s like these that bring attention to him, as unwanted as it is. 

Toni quickly pinches one of his fries before the Serpent snaps out of his Mantle-induced coma and has the chance to moan at her. With a knowing smirk, Jughead exchanges a look with Fags and Toni before raising his brow at the tall raven-haired man in the booth opposite him.

“Penny for your thoughts, Sweet-Pea?” 

The sound of his name registers in Sweet-Pea’s head and he snaps out of the strange trance, blinking a few times before he comes to the conclusion that he probably looks like a deer caught in headlights. He looks at Jughead with raised brows, coaxing the boy to repeat what he clearly just missed.

Fangs fights to hold back him laugh as Toni sips on her milkshake to hide her smile.

Jughead shakes his head before repeating his question, his mind already working wonders, trying to come up with possible theories for the raven-haired mans absent minded ways.

Sweet-Pea looks at Fangs for help, but when he sees his best friend horribly failing to hide his laughing, he knows there’s no fooling anyone. Especially not the self-proclaimed detective in front of him. So, with a defeated sigh and a glare at the trio in front of him, he leans back and looks down at his hands.

“It’s that Mantle girl. Can’t put my finger on what the fuck it is though.” He grumbles, his tone bordering that of a petulant child. He hates how much he’s been thinking about the girl he only seen for a grand total of 10 minutes, but it’s like he can’t help it. And he’s not exactly sure he wants to. 

Toni gives Sweet-Pea a knowing look, naturally being the first one to catch on to her friends feelings. Jughead however, grins at the Serpent like mad, his cunning mind already having come up with a plan.

Jug pulls out his phone before scrolling down to find (Y/N)s number, still having it saved from that one time they worked together before he transferred schools, and he sends her a quick text, biting his bottom lip to stop the smile from spreading across his face.

Jughead- “Hey (Y/N), it’s Jughead. You busy right now?”

(Y/N) shuts the door of her car and quickly turns around to check her appearance in the reflection of her windows, just to make sure her hair is in place. Satisfied, she turns on her heel and marches up the steps to Pop’s.

After exchanging a few texts with Jughead, the guy she remembered by the hat he always seems to wear, she was now headed to tutor one of his friends. Coincidentally, the tall raven-haired guy she took a liking to earlier in the day. So instead of wearing her usual jeans and shirt, she opted for a summer dress and a pair or pumps, wanting to make a better impression on the cute guy. 

The bell above Pop’s door rings as (Y/N) enters, her stomach growling as she’s hit with the sudden smell of Pop’s famous fries and burgers. She makes a mental note to order some food later on. Instead, she focuses on finding Sweet-Pea. And she does find him, sulking in the very corner booth with a less than impressed look on his face. 

(Y/N) puts on her brightest smile, which doesn’t seem to come as hard as she’d have thought, and walks to the tall guy with a pep in her step. 

Sweet-Pea glares down at his hands, already plotting revenge against his friends for doing him so dirty and setting him up with (Y/N). Yes, he did want to talk to her, and yes he did want to get to know every little thing there is to know about her, but at the same time he’s rather die than make an attempt at conversation, because he knows he’d somehow mess up. 

These thoughts all vanish from his head when he hears the bell go off, and then the approaching footsteps of who must be the younger Mantle. With a small breath, he looks up, and he immediately wishes he didn’t.

Sweet-Peas breath gets caught in his throat as he sees the girl, as if for the first time, standing like a mirage in front of him. Instead of taking a seat opposite him, like he anticipated, (Y/N) takes a seat next to him, her smile brighter than the yellow car she arrived in.

“Nice to see you again, Sweet-Pea. I didn’t peg you as the type to ask for help when you need it, but I’m definitely glad you asked Jug to text me.” She smiles at him, beginning to take out her history work and a spare notepad once she notices Sweet-Pea doesn’t have anything with him. Which strikes her as odd.

Sweet-Pea’s face flushes bright red, so deep he feels his face heat up. Of course Jughead would find a way to set him up like this. 

“Don’t want to be failing on the first week now, do I?” He smirks a little, finding it strange that for once he wants to talk. He wants to get to know this girl, and he doesn’t want to mess up.

(Y/N) looks to her right, her eyes catching the Serpents, before she swiftly turns back to her book, not wanting the guy next to her to notice the faint red creeping up her neck and to her cheeks.

“Fair point. Okay, so how about we start with the immigrant restrictions imposed in the 1920s?” (Y/N) turns to the right page, before pushing the book over to Sweet-Pea with an encouraging smile.

Four hours, six shared milkshakes and three burgers later, Sweet-Pea could recite the major reasons for immigrant restrictions almost 100 years ago, and probably write an essay worthy of at least a B. Oh, and he could boast that (Y/N) admitted to him that Reggie Mantle sleeps with the night light on.

He watches with  admiration as the girl next to him laughs to the point tears threaten to spill from her eyes, all at some dumb joke he said. As both pride and a sudden, unexpected burst of affection wash over him, he fins himself grinning like an idiot. Why? Because he just made the most beautiful girl he’s ever met laugh.

“I swear that’s got to be the worst joke I’ve ever heard.” (Y/N) wheezes, her stomach cramping up. Who’d have thought the brooding Serpent could be so funny? And who’d have thought she’d ever be attracted to a gang member?

“What can I say, it’s a hidden talent.” He grins.

Before (Y/N) has a chance to respond, her phone goes off, flashing with her brothers name. Reality slowly starts to seep in, and as much as she’d love to stay in this moment with Sweet-Pea, she knows she can’t. So, with a groan, she pick up the phone and listens to Reggie ramble about how their mum wants them home to do chores and how unfair it is that she gets to stay out while he has to dust the photo albums.

With a sigh, she begins to pack up her books. “As lovely as this has been, I am wanted elsewhere. How about we do a repeat of this? Though maybe without the depressing topic of immigration restriction.”

Sweet-Pea immediately perks up at the thought of seeing (Y/N) again, and nods a bit too enthusiastically at her proposal.

She stands up, the smile once again adorning her face. “Okay, great. See you around, Sweets.” And with that, she walks out of Pop’s, and away from the starstruck Serpent who’s having to force himself to breathe after hearing that nickname come from her lips. 

A huge smile spreads over his face when he notices one of Pop’s napkins on the table, (Y/N)s number messily scribbles across it. Perhaps he’d have to thank Jughead and his two friends for this setup after all.

[mortaljin]

Meadows Part One

Word Count: 8.2k Warnings: uh there’s a couple curse words, mentions of emotional abuse and attempted physical abuse.(The abuse is very vague and I do not go into detail whatsoever) Genre: Angst and some fluff. Fairy!au Pairing: Hoseok x female reader.

Summary: You plant flowers because there is no consequence to accidentally killing one, that’s why you don’t have a pet. Your life becomes a lot more stressful one day, however, when you barter for an exotic flower seed at your local market place. No matter what you do, it won’t grow. The old woman who gave it to you gave you no instructions, other than adequate water and sunlight, on how to care for the flower. You were about to give up, ready to smash the flower pot to smithereens, when the softest, faintest voice begs you not to. You were just hearing things, right? It’s not like the voice came from the seed, right?

A/N: Hello, I hope you guys like this first installment. There will probably only be two parts, with a potential for an epilogue. I wanted to post something tonight, and the plot idea running through  my brain for this fic wouldn’t allow me to finish it any time soon. Enjoy!! Edit: Reposted this because I made a few changes (Not to plot, just format)

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven | Epilogue

Masterlist

March

The smell of your makeshift balcony garden wafted through the open sliding door and filled your entire apartment with the floral scent. When guests came over, they were always pleasantly surprised to see such a well-kept flower garden on an apartment balcony. Granted, your balcony was fairly larger than most apartments, but a garden of this magnitude is rarely seen on one. Today you could be found, once again, trimming the stems and leaves of flowers that needed to be pampered and pruned. As a small child, you were always fascinated with the idea of growing flowers; the dandelions in your front yard always signaled a season of good times, and you wanted to be able to recreate that with more extravagant flowers. People often questioned your love and dedication to something as minute as flowers, and often wondered why you didn't get a pet. You would jokingly answer saying that it's not the end of the world if you kill a flower, but there was always truth behind the playfulness. The idea of taking care of an animal terrified you, and instead of running the risk of being a horrible animal owner, you opted for the simplicity of taking care of the less sentient species of life.

You were on a mission today. Your garden had always been an unorganized array of vivid color, and that has never bothered you until you woke up this morning, itching for the opportunity to organize something, anything. The original plan was just to move the pots around a bit, but you got carried away with the upkeep of taking care of the flowers. As you stood hovered above the foliage-filled trash can, your eyes caught sight of a magnet on your fridge. It was a handmade rainbow magnet that one of your younger cousins had made for you. You admired the bright colors, and your heart began to buzz with warmth in your chest. Looking down at the Sweet Peas in your hand, you noticed that the purple of them matched almost exactly to the purple of the rainbow magnet. Instantly, a new idea formed in your head.

"I'll arrange my porch like a rainbow!" Your overly excited squeal had you face-palm and you laughed at your zeal for gardening. It wasn't that hard to arrange the flowers, and the fact that your balcony was slightly rounded made it look even more like a rainbow. Shifting the pots color by color, you actually had a small section left for a few more flower pots when you were done. Looking over your organized masterpiece, you realized something crucial was missing. I don't have any yellow flowers! The thought screamed through your head and you were slightly annoyed that your rainbow balcony was missing a color, a primary of all things. You looked at the clock and realizing you still had the entirety of your Sunday left, you headed out towards a marketplace to find a damned yellow flower.

Passing by the different flower kiosks, you were quickly greeted by many of their owners. It was no secret in this small town that you adored flowers, and you were probably one of, if not the most, regular customer. Although you were good at keeping flowers healthy and growing, you still had to be mindful of how much work and dedication it would cost you. The large box you had brought with you was already full of a few flowers; you had picked up some premature snapdragons, daffodils, and lugilarias, and was excited to tend to these little babies over the summer. At first, you thought the three would suffice, and so by the time you had scaled the entire marketplace, or so you thought, you were ready to head home. As you crossed diagonally through the area, you noticed out of the corner of your eye a little old woman sitting at a small table. Well she's new to the marketplace, you thought, seeing as you had never seen her, or her kiosk here before. You weren't sure what it was, but something about this mysterious new seller had caught your attention and was almost calling you to her table. Upon approaching the table, you weren't exactly sure what it was she was selling. There were bowls of different sizes, filled with beads of sorts.

"Um what exactly-" but she cut you off with a laugh and a gummy grin that was missing a few teeth.

"Seeds my dear! Flower seeds to be exact!" Your heart almost gave way to her explanation, and you found yourself inching closer to the bowls. Upon closer inspection, you noticed that she was telling the truth. After having planted enough flowers, you knew that some of them were for some flowers you've already grown. You walked along the little table, eyeing each bowl carefully. At the end of the table were three bowls colored red, blue, and yellow, and inside each one was a singular seed. "Ah, I knew those would catch your eye."

"Well, you do only have one of each. What kind of flower seeds are they? I don't think I've ever seen any like this."

"That's because they're not from here, deary!" You raised a quizzical brow to her statement, and she laughed again at your skepticism. "Don't worry, they will grow here, and just about anywhere. Just don't move to the Antarctic, or to the Sahara Desert for that matter either."

"You won't tell me what kind of flower will grow from them?" She just shook her head, saying something about there being no fun in knowing what they will be. Part of you wanted to leave, but the other part of you, the one with the love for gardening, was intrigued by the idea of having a unique flower in your garden.

You eyed the three bowls carefully, and for a moment it reminded you of when you were younger and had to choose between starter Pokémon. The red bowl contained a dark seed, it was small, and was perfectly round. In the next bowl over was a white seed, shaped like a lopsided heart, and was decently sized. Finally, in the yellow bowl was an extremely large bulb, and you instantly realized you wouldn't choose this one due to the likelihood of it being a common tulip. You pondered between the red and blue bowls for an eternity. The black seed was as mysterious as this random seed seller, and it was almost alluring. The white seed, however, looked so unique and you knew it would bloom into an exotic flower. If these flowers bloom anyways.

"Which one do you think I should choose? I don't have any idea what kind of flower they will bloom into and how to take care of them!" You sounded a little bit more exasperated than you should've been, but the box of flowers still in your arms was starting to grow heavy. She shrugged and held out a coin towards you.

"Flip a coin and let the Fates decide for you!" You had to feign kindness and prevent yourself from rolling your eyes. Setting the box on the ground, you quickly grabbed the coin from her frail hand.

"Okay then," you muttered under your breath, "heads is the black seed I guess?" She continued to stare at you as you flipped the coin in the air, and you held your breath. You caught the coin and slapped it over onto the back of your hand, revealing the head side of the coin. You glanced at the black seed, and for the briefest second a feeling of disappointment washed over you. Shaking your head at the women, you made your choice.

"I want the white seed, I don't think the Fates knew what I wanted."

"Perhaps then that it is part of your fate to choose part of your own path." She gave you a soft smile as she carefully wrapped the seed in wrapping paper and placed it in a little box. It's a seed, a little bag would have sufficed.

"Oh! How much do I owe you for the seed? I hope it's not terribly expensive!" You began reaching for your wallet inside your purse when she stopped you.

"Don't worry dear, I don't sell these for cash. I'm a traveling woman and I like to collect things from places, trading as I go. That's why I've collected these odd seeds."

"Oh, uh I don't think I have anything worth trading for such a special seed, I'm sorry." She lifted a bony finger towards your neck implying she was interested in your necklace. Immediately your hand flew to the pendant hanging from the chain. Your chest swelled, and your throat felt tighter within an instant. This was a gift from your boyfriend, well, now ex-boyfriend. The two of you broke up almost four months ago after catching him cheating on you. The relationship was not healthy, to begin with, and although you are much safer and well off by being apart, you were still clinging to the image of how good he was at the beginning of your two-year relationship.

"Sometimes you have to let go of what hurts to get to what heals you." Her soft whisper of words left you stunned, and for a minute you wondered if she had just read your mind. Your hands began to shake as you reached around your neck to unclasp the necklace. Once removed, your hand hesitated for a second before releasing the burden into her hand. Her eyes twinkled as she gave you that big toothless grin again, and you felt yourself automatically reciprocating it. You bid her farewell and picking up your box of flowers, you made your trek back home, your new possession safely in your purse.

"Wait! How do I take care of-" After a few moments of walking away, you abruptly turned on your heels to ask her how much water and sunlight the flower needed, if she even knew? When you turned around though, the woman was already gone, as well as her makeshift kiosk. It was almost as if she had vanished into thin air. That was certainly a strange experience.

Thankfully the ordeal with the mysterious seed seller in the marketplace only transpired over the course of twenty minutes, so your afternoon of gardening was still open. You made haste in placing your new yellow flowers in their respective section of your floral rainbow and went to find a pot and dirt for the new seed. As you removed the white seed from the box, a little piece a paper fluttered to the ground. You picked it up and turned it over in your hand to read the little note that was written on it: I need lots of sunlight, and an average amount of water, but don't drown me! I can't wait for you to meet me! You weren't exactly sure when the woman had written the note, but it was cute and made you a little bit more excited to grow the flower. You placed it in a pot, and again you cringed. This little pot was one your ex-boyfriend had gotten you for valentine's day last year, and if you had any other pot you would have smashed this one to pieces. I'll have to find a new one later. The seed was packed into the pot, watered, and placed into the sun. You weren't sure how successful your green thumb would prove to be this time, but your heart thumped at the new adventure.

April.

It had been two weeks since you bought the mysterious seed at the marketplace, and there has been no sign that it was blooming. You thought that perhaps it was getting too much sunlight, so you moved it into the shade for a few more hours a day. After nothing else, you decided to experiment with the water. You increased the amount of water, the water intervals, and even the type of water. No change you made seemed to do anything to make life sprout from the pot. Feeling defeated that morning when you woke up, you didn't even bother to water the pot before heading off to start your long day of events, and almost forgot to water it before you went to bed that same night.

It was nearly midnight when you finally stepped out onto your balcony, checking one last time on your other flowers. Standing in front of your lifeless flower pot, a wave of melancholic emotions washed over you. As of an hour ago, it had been exactly four months since you left your cheating ex-boyfriend. Staring at your flowers, you realized your passion for gardening only came from the need to distract yourself. You had poured yourself into two years of a toxic relationship, and you realized that at least flowers could show their appreciation by growing. The tears began to stream down your face as sobs racked through your chest, and you weren't sure how long it was that you had been standing there, tears dripping into the pot of soil. With a hiccup and a wipe of your sleeve, you were able to see through your slightly blurry eyes and you stared down at the pot. Like a child, you stomped your foot in frustration. Anger at the world was being released and you started to pick up the pot. You were ready to hurl it over your balcony, but the faintest, softest whisper entered your left ear and you stopped in your tracks.

"Please don't break the pot, I'm growing I promise!" The voice was quiet and you spun around to see where it was coming from. Nothing or no one could be seen around you. It's just my imagination. I'm exhausted and upset. I'm just hallucinating and hearing things, you thought this to yourself with a laugh. Had you not imagined the pot's plea for help, you still would've felt bad for tossing the pot. You made a mental note to get a new pot so you actually could smash this one. Shutting the sliding door, you gave once last glance to the empty balcony and made your way to your room to attempt a good night's rest.

With the spring sun shining directly onto your balcony, you were able to get work done without feeling the slightest chill. It had been two days since your meltdown over the empty pot, and you were finally getting around to replacing it with a new one. The one you had bought was completely unlike the other plain terra-cotta pots that you had collected over the years; this one was black with a shiny coat. There was a cheesy quote calligraphed on one side that reads "every flower is a soul blossoming in nature," and you found it too cute to not purchase. When you began to re-pot the seed, you almost dropped it in excitement to see that roots actually had started to sprout from it. You quickly switched its home and placed it back into its spot on the balcony. A sense of accomplishment came to you as you realized you had made another conscious effort to heal from your ex, and you picked up the old pot, finally ready to rid yourself of it.

"Oh my god, I was wondering if you were ever going to put me in a new pot!" The voice from two nights ago appeared again, but this time it startled you because you knew you weren't just hearing things. In your fright, you managed to drop the pot, the terra-cotta shards flying all over the balcony. "Well, I didn't think you would actually smash that pot, but good going!"

"What the hell? Who's saying that?" The question came out as an assertive scream, yet you were trembling with fear. You glanced fervently around you, and still, there was no one to be found.

"Uh, I'm right behind you?" The voice said this, and his tone made it seem like it was obvious.

You held your breath as you slowly turned on the spot, and you almost fainted at the sight before you. Standing on your railing was a man. Well not actually a man, he was about six inches tall, but it still looked like a man. Quickly you pinched yourself to wake up from the dream you were having. To no avail, the six-inch man was still there. You stepped forward slightly, and with squinting eyes, you noticed something behind him. Those are wings, you gasped again at the realization, warranting a slap in your face. The winged creature rolled his eyes and jumped from the balcony to fly in front of your face. You blinked slowly for a few seconds before you finally found the ability to speak again.

"What the hell are you?" It came out as a whisper but the creature heard you nonetheless. He fluttered in circles above your head before coming to sit on your shoulder. This caused you to visibly stiffen, and he left again when he noticed your discomfort.

"I'm a fairy, obviously!" You wanted to laugh at him thinking the answer was obvious but you were still in shock. "Specifically, I'm a fairy for that flower right there!" He pointed at the repotted plant, and you noticed that something had started to burst through the soil. "I couldn't grow properly because that pot was filled with too much evil. Thank you for changing it for me!" You just nodded your head as the gears in your brain started turning in overtime.

"I'm dreaming, I have to be dreaming. Fairies aren't real." You repeated this over and over again before you felt something poke your nose. The fairy-thing in front of you seemed to be flicking your nose, but it didn't have much power behind it.

"Of course, they are! Fairy flowers don't grow near human settlements, so I'm confused how you got a hold of that seed. I'm glad you've been watering me properly, although you almost overdid it the other day." At the mention of water, your eyes darted towards the full glass on the table. His eyes met yours, and with realization as to your next move, his face filled with horror. You quickly grabbed the glass and stood by the pot. "Please don't dump that in the pot, you already watered me this morning!"

But you didn't listen. You slowly poured the water into the pot as you kept your gaze on the fairy. As the water landed in the pot, you could see the fairy's wings start to wilt and he had to struggle to keep himself afloat in the air. You dumped the rest of the glass into the pot and the fairy landed on the ground with a silent thud. You walked over to the fairy, and you picked him up, noticing that he looked sick and he was soaking wet. Reality hit you like a freight train and you finally accepted that he was telling the truth and that he was, indeed, a fairy. You began to panic as you looked at his state.

"Oh my god I'm so sorry what do I do? I didn't think you would actually be affected!"

"Sunlight" was all he could croak out, and you rushed to bring both him and the potted plant to the hottest part of the balcony. For ten minutes you stood in silent shock, staring at the fairy in front of you, basking miserably in the sunlight.

"You're awful you know that, right?" You were pulled out of your bubble of thought at the fairy's statement. You sat next at the table and leaned forward slightly to be face to face with the fairy that had sat up from his spot in the sun.

"I'm sorry, okay? Something like you can't show up out of nowhere and not expect me to do something drastic to prove it!" You hung your head in your hands, both in disbelief and in apology as to what had happened. "Are you okay though?"

"Oh, me? Yeah, I'm fine, just don't water me until tomorrow night please." You nodded your head at his request and curiosity began to bubble inside of you.

"What's your name?" The question seemed simple enough, yet he rose his eyebrows at you anyways. "Do fairies even have names?"

"A fairy makes contact with a human for the first time in decades, and your first question is what my name is?" Again, you nodded your head, and the fairy chuckled. "My name is Hoseok, what's yours?"

"I'm Y/N. Next question, why didn't I see you the other night when you told me not to break the pot?"

"Oh, that. Yeah, I wasn't big enough for you to see me." You tilted your head in confusion and he continued. "The more you take care of the flower, the more I grow. Once the flower is fully grown, I'll be normal sized, like you. Or taller, or shorter. I'm not sure where you stand on the average height scale." You felt as though your neck would be sore tomorrow from all the nodding you were doing.

"Okay, sounds legit." The two of you sat in awkward silence for a few seconds as you tried to work through the list of questions you had for him. He broke the silence with a question that caught you off guard.

"Y/N, why was that flower pot filled with so much hate?" You stared at the remains of the shattered pot, and you had to choke down the tears welling up in your eyes.

"Oh well, um." You thought carefully of the words you were going to choose. Not many people knew about the bad side of your relationship with your ex, and you weren't sure how to tell it to a member of the supernatural. "It was a gift from someone. This person became increasingly awful and destructive to me, and I think when I would garden and use that pot, I poured my hatred for this person into it." You sniffled slightly and quickly ran your hand over your eyes to remove any tears that were threatening to fall. "That person is out of my life though, that's why I wanted to smash the pot."

"You were upset because this evil person is gone?" Hoseok looked stunned at his assumption, and you smiled gently and waved it off.

"No, I think I was upset that I let them harm me like that in the first place." A look of sympathy washed over Hoseok's face, and the little fairy hugged your hand in comfort.

"I'm glad that they're not hurting you anymore."

"So, uh, what do you do now?" You quickly changed the subject to ask the real question at hand. "I mean, will you be living on my porch?"

"Well, not necessarily. I can go and fly away and do as I please, but I have to stay in the general vicinity of the flower. Which brings me to ask you. Where did you get that flower?"

"I got it from a random lady selling flower seeds at a street market." The nonchalant shrug made Hoseok furrow his brows, wondering how that would have even been possible.

"Strange. Well, I don't actually know what I'm supposed to do. These flowers are near my village, so I didn't have to worry about going anywhere to do anything. I'm not even sure where I am." You quickly explained what part of the world you were living in, and the two of you discussed the different landscapes and flora found in each other's worlds.

During the conversation, you learned many things about Hoseok, and fairies in general. You had asked the question about what happens when the flower dies, and you wondered if that meant the fairy attached to it would die as well. Initially, Hoseok had told you no, that the fairies don't die when the flower wilts. The fairy flowers still followed the course of nature like normal flowers did, blooming with one season, and dying with the next. They also followed the course of nature when it came to reblooming the following year; the seeds dropped to the ground and waited patiently for the next season to bloom. This confused you, what happens to the fairies while they wait for the next season to bloom? When a flower wilts, the fairy's body disappears with it, the life energy gets put back into the new seed. When the next season's flower blooms, they start over again, starting small and gradually working their way up to normal size.

"Wait, so you guys just keep getting reincarnated forever?" Supernatural things seemed plausible, they had to be, obviously, but immortality did not.

"No, we aren't completely immortal. At some point in the distant future, I will reach my last cycle of reincarnation and be gone forever, the next flower to bloom will contain a newborn fairy ready to repeat the same cycle I did."

"You're the same fairy every time your flower reincarnates?" This was all getting a little too confusing.

"Pretty much, let me put it into simpler terms. A fairy is born, and looks just like a baby, right? Fairies exist almost like humans do, except not having to have human food as substance. The baby fairy lives out its first season, only growing to the size of how a normal nine-month human baby would look." He paused to make sure you were still following along, and you urged him to continue. "Well, when it's time to be reincarnated, the baby comes back as a super tiny version of how he was before his cycle ended. Then the baby grows normally and starts to look like an eighteen-month-old baby. Gets reincarnated as a tiny eighteen-month-old, then grows into a baby who is over a year and a half old. So on and so forth. It's like how humans grow and get older, but with a short break in between. Make sense?" You wrapped the explanation around your mind, and you understood what he had said, but none of this made any sense. How did you manage to find a magic flower?

"Mostly. So what age would you be then?" This was something you weren't sure about. He looked like a miniature adult at the very least.

"Well, this is my twenty-fourth cycle, making me the equivalent of a twenty-four-year-old human. When the flower fully blooms, you won't even be able to tell I'm a fairy! Except for when you see my wings." There was a pause. "You are going to continue growing the flower, right?" His eyes filled with worry for a moment, and you patted him on the head with a few of your fingers.

"Well of course, how stupid would I be to let a magical flower wilt on purpose?" You laughed at your joke, and Hoesok smiled at you. "Anyways, this is kind of a lot to take in and I need a nap. Will you stay out here, or would you want to come inside?"

"I'll stay out here, it's fine." You bid him farewell and went back inside your apartment. The nap waiting for you was calling for you, but not before you stopped for a glass of wine in your kitchen to help you wrap your mind around the newfound knowledge.

Your nap had been going perfectly. You had a dream that you could remember for the first time in weeks; you were in a meadow filled with beautiful spring flowers of all kinds, some you recognized and some you didn't. The sun was shining and people were prancing and galloping through the flora all around you. Suddenly, a horrible high-pitched noise rang through the meadow, causing everyone to run away in terror. You opened your eyes when the dream had ended, rolling over to find that the noise was coming from your cell phone. You glanced at the unknown number for a moment, debating on whether to answer it or not.

"If it's important, they'll leave a voicemail or call again." You sighed heavily and closed your eyes again, wanting to continue the peaceful vision in your head. Your eyes shot open and you grunted heavily as your phone once again began to ring from the unknown number. "Hello?" you groggily asked after you pressed the receive button and held the phone up to your ear.

"Y/N?" It was a man's voice that you heard from the other end of the call, and you didn't think you recognized it.

"This is her. Who am I speaking to?"

"It's me, Jackson, can't you recognize my voice?" You lurched forward into a sitting position as you did begin to realize the familiar voice. "Are you busy today?"

"Why does that matter, Jackson?" The reply came out like a hiss, but you didn't care. He had no right to be questioning your whereabouts.

"Don't be like that, Y/N. I just wanted to catch up with you."

"I don't care, goodbye." You angrily ended the phone-call, and your heart was threatening to beat out of your chest. Without even thinking about it, you stormed off to your balcony in hopes to find something to calm your green thumb. Opening the sliding door, you realized that you had never bothered to clean up the pot that had fallen earlier that morning. You glanced around, but there was no sign of your new fairy friend. Most people didn't think it would be possible to put passion into sweeping, but you certainly were able to.

"Who the hell does he think he is?" You grumbled to yourself. "Wanting to ‘catch up,' more like wanting to kiss ass is what it sounds like to me."

"Who wants to kiss ass?" Hoseok had just flown over the railing to the balcony before he asked you this, and he had sat himself on your shoulder.

"My ex-boyfriend. I haven't had any contact with him in two months, and he wakes me up from my nap, and for what? To tell me he wants to see me?" You scoffed as you swept the last of the terra-cotta shards into the dustpan. With Hoseok still on your shoulder, you made your way to the garbage can in the kitchen to dispose of the broken pot.

"Did you tell him to leave you alone?" Hoseok's tone seemed very serious when he asked you this, and you grabbed him from your shoulder to place him on the counter facing you.

"Yeah, I did, I told him I didn't care about-" Your rant was cut off by a few raps at your front door. You began to walk towards it before you remembered the fairy that showed up this morning. "Uh, Hoseok?"

"I know, I'm hiding." The little fairy flew off down the hallway, seeing as you had shut the sliding door, and you wondered if it would be easy to find him when you were done with your visitor. You brushed down the wrinkles in your shirt and ran a hand through your hair in the hopes of laying down some of the frizz that had sprung up. You gently opened your front door and the person standing on the other side almost made your heart stop in despair.

"Y/N, wait!" Jackson, of all people, had shown up unannounced and was requesting to be let in. "I just need to talk to you!"

"And why would you need to do that, huh?" Your voice was harsh, and you could see him wince at the tone. "Last time I checked, you have another girl to talk to." Once again you tried to push the door closed, but he was too strong. He did not force himself in, however, despite the fact that you knew he was capable of doing so.

"I left her, weeks ago." The seriousness in his voice let you know that he was telling the truth, and finally, you relented on the door and let him step inside, but no further than the little rug in front of it. "Y/N please hear me out. I can't live without you. I don't know what I was thinking when I cheated on you. I wish I could blame it on being under the influence of something, but I can't. I was stupid to think that anyone could love me better than you can." His heartfelt confession had brought you to tears, and for a moment you wanted to run into the warmth of his arms. Instead, you straightened your back and lifted your chin.

"I'm sorry Jackson, but I can't." Your words had come out barely above a whisper despite your attempt at feigning confidence.

"Please forgive me, Y/N, I truly am sorry for what I did." Even he had tears threatening to fall, but still, you held strong despite how badly your heart was aching.

"Jackson," you stepped closer to him and looked him directly in the eye, "I forgave you a while back. You need to forgive yourself too." At this confession, he rushed forward to embrace you, but you held a hand to stop him. "I forgive you, and that's it. We both know we're not meant for each other, nor is our relationship a healthy one. Move on, Jackson, that's what I'm trying to do." The shift in his expression made it seem as though a switch inside of him had been flipped. In one swift movement, Jackson had you pinned against the wall and was screaming obscenities in your face.

"What the fuck do you mean you don't want to be with me? You think there's anyone else who's gonna give a shit about you?" The verbal abuse continued as he made derogatory comments about anything and everything about you. When you refused to make any attempt at a reply, his frustration had reached his peak and reared his hand back to slap you.

"Leave." You had managed to catch his hand before it made contact, and the fact that you stood up him for once had him stunned into silence. "I said leave, and do it right now. I will call the police if you don't." The flames in his eyes continued to dance as he stared at you before he pulled away from you.

"Fine, bitch, but you're gonna regret this when you die alone." That was the last thing you heard from him before he stalked out your front door, slamming it behind him. The momentum from the slam caused one of the small picture frames nearby to fall from its place in the wall. Before it was able to hit the ground, little Hoseok had come flying in to save it. He flew it back up to its place and hung it on the hook before turning to stare at your shaking form. Not knowing what to say, he used all of his strength to pull you by the hand to your couch. You sat there for a few minutes, the tears piling in your eyes, but you refused to sob over that evil man any longer.

"Was that the evil man that left you?" Hoseok was the first one to break the silence and you continued to sit there for a few more beats before he asked another question. "Was he always like that?"

"No, he-" your reply got caught in your throat, so you coughed slightly and restarted. "He wasn't always like this, at one point he was very kind and treated me like a princess. A year into our relationship, he started to change. At first, I thought it was stress causing his mood swings, but then he began to verbally attack me; he made comments on my weight, my looks, and other things that made me insecure." The first tear fell. "There were multiple instances, although not very many, where he would grab me and shake me, or push me around. I always had bruises on my arms." A slight stream began cascading from your eyes. "I never th-thought that h-he would tr-try to h-hit me!" Your stuttering sentence had come out in the form of loud, body shaking sobs. You were a mess, and you were aware of the sight you must have made for your new friend, but you were too shaken up to care. In the midst of your wailing, Hoseok had flown to your side and was making circles in the air above your head. Red flecks of sparkling dust began to rain down on top of you, and within seconds you felt your heart beat calm, and your breathing become steadier. After five minutes, you were completely relaxed although slightly stunned at what had just occurred.

"Do you feel better now?" You nodded your head yes in reply.

"What did you just do? I didn't know you could also do magic!" You felt like a little girl with how excited this thought made you.

"It's not necessarily magic. I can't do many things apart from healing people in various ways. I don't have an unlimited supply of it either, I can only dish out what I'm given." You questioningly raised a brow to him. "The happiness and joy I get from other people are what fuels my ‘magic' as you like to call it. No offense, but you've been fairly gloomy for a while." He smirked as he joked, and you couldn't help but giggle as well. You felt yourself calm down to normal, and you were able to continue on with your housework filled day. Hoseok had made the rounds with you, and you found yourself slipping into easy conversation while you did mundane things like dishes, or mopping, or dusting.

"Hoseok, uh, do you think you could you could take this rag and get the dust off the fan blades?"

"What do I look like, your personal fairy maid?" At first, his tone looked as though you had offended him, but then he broke character and erupted into laughter. You fell into a laughing fit with him. He took the rag from your hand, and flew his way to the ceiling fan, causing dust to rain down.

"Hobi, stop it! I don't want to vacuum again!" You shrieked as he continued to let the piles of dust fall down, and you could have sworn you saw him grow an inch at the use of your new nickname for him.

May.

Three weeks. All it took was three weeks of proper water, plenty of sunlight, and all the love that you could put into your green thumbs. Three weeks since Hoseok's first appearance and the flower had completely bloomed. Every morning up to this moment, you would wake up to a slightly taller Hoseok rapping softly on your window to let you know that he was thirsty. This morning, however, there was no knock against your window, and you were concerned that something might've happened. Upon further inspection into your apartment, you found Hoseok in the guest bathroom. Once he had become tall enough to reach the door handle, you opted to leave it unlocked so that he could come and go as he pleased. It was almost scary how human he could seem. As you stood in the doorway of the bathroom, you could tell Hoseok hadn't noticed your presence yet and so you silently admired him. He was most definitely checking himself out in the mirror; he was turning his head every which way, and he was pressing his fingers into every part of his body. His beautiful red hair was full of volume and rested perfectly against his forehead. Cheeks were aglow with life, and you couldn't help but trail your eyes down to his lips. They looked soft and plump, not a single dry spot to be seen in them. His eyes were sparkling, and your heart began to thud in your chest as you saw the way they shined. You took in his height; he seemed to be quite a bit taller this morning than he was last night, and you gulped when you saw how lean and fit he looked. To top off the heart problems you were gradually gaining, Hoseok had shifted his clothes, the ones you gave him once he was tall enough to fit them, and revealed a portion of his alarmingly toned abdomen. You quickly darted back to your room and the sigh that came from your lips was extremely vulgar. With a few pats on your cheeks, you felt as though you were closer to being calm enough to face him.

"Y/N?" a voice came from the bathroom you had just passed, and your heart thudded once more when you heard it sounded just a pitch deeper today. You backtracked your steps and met Hoseok in the bathroom.

"Y-yes?" Good one. He's so going to know that you're nervous.

"Look!" He held up his arms and twirled around in a circle. "I'm fully grown!" The heart palpitations you experienced this morning made sense now that you knew Hoseok was in all of his whimsical beauty.

"That's wonderful!" You couldn't help but grin at his excitement. "Wait, does this mean the flower is fully bloomed?" He nodded his head to you, and without a second thought, you were running to the balcony. An audible gasp filled the air as you took in the beauty of the singular flower in the middle of the black pot. The flower was every bit of exotic that you had imagined it to be; with twenty-four petals of a brilliant fire red and perfectly petite leaves, there was no doubt in your mind that this was a flower that could only be found in dreams.

"Huh, that's strange." Hoseok had snuck up behind you, and it seemed as though he was contemplating something. "Twenty-four petals seem weird. I liked it best when it only had twenty."

"Do you get another petal after each reincarnation?" You had turned to face him when you spoke, and the sight of him staring intently you at you made you want to run and hide in embarrassment.

"Yeah, can you imagine what this bad boy will look like when I turned eighty?" You stifled a laugh as Hoseok made a wide gesture with arms to show how massive the flower will be in the future. Suddenly you started laughing, for no reason, and he looked at you as if you had lost your mind. "Why are you laughing like a maniac?"

"I just, this is surreal you know? I managed to grow the prettiest flower I've ever seen on a balcony, and I grew a fairy along with it. This is insane, are you sure you're real and I haven't been hallucinating for the past few weeks?"

Hobi stared at you intently again, a furrow forming between his brows. His eyes darted downward slightly, and it felt as though time had begun to slow as he stepped forward to close the gap between the two of you. He ducked his head down and placed a kiss on your lips. The only explanation for the sensation it gave you was the magic that made up the essence of Hoseok's soul. Stepping back to look at you, his expression was much softer now and he was looking at you fondly.

"What?" You blinked in surprise, and you knew you were probably standing there like an idiot with your mouth agape.

"I've been wanting to do that since, like, the first time I saw you but I couldn't really do much until I was full grown." You stared in amazement again at his confession. "I've begun growing, no pun intended, quite fond of you, if you didn't know."

"I'm glad the feeling is mutual then," you sighed in contentment after learning that you were not the only one who had budding feelings inside them.

July.

The summer began to pass by in a blissful haze filled with sunshine and warmth. Hoseok was no doubt the mythical representation of the sun and all that was good and joyous in the world. He taught you everything there was to know about his mythical land of fairies; his words sounded like velvet coated children's stories, and every night before bed you asked him to tell you more. Once Hoseok had grown full size, you thought it best for him to actually stay in the house with you, despite his insistence that he could shroud himself from onlookers outside. It wasn't until a few weeks ago that the two of you had grown close enough to share a bed, a nice change from the couch in the living room he had been using. It was another night of having the tv playing softly in the background as the two of you laid entwined with one another under the sheets. Every day you fell deeper and deeper in love with the man who was born from a flower, and every day you yearned to tell him so. Do fairies even say, ���I love you'? Is it even normal for fairies to have romantic relationships?

"Hobi?" You lifted your head from his chest to look him in the eyes.

"Yes, love?" The fluttering in your chest never seemed to cease no matter how often he called you that.

"Do fairies have relationships like humans do?" You paused, and he looked at you confused. "Like, do fairies date other fairies, get married, and live happily ever after?"

"Why do you ask this?"

"Well, I don't know. I just don't know if this kind of relationship stuff is what you fairy people would normally do." He pulled you a little closer to his chest and you could feel his laughter rumble through him.

"Well pretty much yeah. I can't stress enough that fairies are like 88% like humans, save for obvious details. We love the same, we hurt the same, we feel the same, we just don't live the same is all it really is."

"So, you do date other fairies?" You were trying to get down to the question of asking whether he had a girlfriend before he reincarnated on your balcony, but you weren't sure you wanted to hear the answer.

"Sort of yes, sort of no. After reaching full growth during our twenty-fifth cycle, we are now able to form a bond with our life mate." He looked down at you to find that you were soaking in every word he was saying. "Some fairies choose to date before their twenty-fifth cycle, just to get a feel for interacting with someone in a romantic sense, but others choose to wait until they come of age. There's a fanciful ceremony, like how humans have weddings, but the meaning of the bond goes much deeper. Once this bond is created, the two people are connected through their souls for eternity. It is the closest relationship we can form as fairies."

"Well, what happens when the bonded fairies reach old age and officially die? Is that the end of the bond forever, then?" Hoseok looked at the ceiling in deep contemplation.

"Not exactly. When we reincarnate each cycle, we keep our memories, emotions, personality, etc. from the previous cycle. That's why we don't change drastically each time. When a fairy reaches its final cycle and ‘dies,' as you would put it, the soul itself remains and embeds itself into a new fairy. This fairy starts as a blank slate, with no recollection of his past life. That being said, the new fairy souls still share the previous fairy bonds to an extent, and more often than not, the new reincarnated fairies find their way back to each other." He shrugged his shoulders, "that's what they say anyway, it's not like we can remember who our past selves loved."

It was your turn for deep thoughts as Hoseok went back to laying under you in silence, his gentle fingers traced patterns on your back, and wove themselves through your hair. You hadn't realized that you had been repeatedly sighing until Hoseok said something.

"Y/N, love, is something wrong? You only sigh that often when you're thinking too much." His face was full of concern and worry, and you didn't want to bother him with such trivial things.

"Were there any pretty fairies that you pined for in your previous cycles?" This seemed to have warranted a deep laugh from him, and you hid your face in his chest in embarrassment.

"Ah, so that's what these questions were about, huh?" He kissed the top of your forehead and grabbed your chin to bring you to face him. "Don't worry, Y/N. I don't have another lover that is missing me from my village right now. I chose not to fall for anyone before I come of age." You grinned sheepishly when he told you this, and you could feel your worries start to melt away. His village. When will he be going home?

"Hobi?" You began to ask him about when he would be returning to where he belongs.

"Yes, love?" But, you thought better of it.

"I'm glad you're here in my life" His departure was an answer you wanted to put off for as long as you could.

"As am I glad that you are in mine." You fell asleep to the sound of Hoseok whispering sweet nothings into your ear, and for the moment, everything was as it should be. You dreamt of that perfect meadow full of flowers and fairies again.

[writingwithadinosaur]

“Fireproof” - Part 1

“Fireproof” - Part 1

My Masterlist - Here

My Tag List - Here

Eggsy Unwin x Reader

Word Count: 1,600

Key: Y/N = Your Name, Y/L/N = Your Last Name, H/C = Your Hair Color, E/C = Your Eye Color

Warnings: Cursing, Talk of Violence

Summary: After a genetic mutation showed itself about 5 years ago, you became a Kingsman and worked alongside some of the best agents: Your father, Merlin, Roxy, and Eggsy. When you are assigned a mission with Eggsy, things flare up.

Author’s Note: So this is my first Kingsman fic. I had this idea at 2AM when I was working on packing up my stuff for moving. I know it’s a bit out there, but I hope you give it a chance.

I have to thank @the-witching-hours12-3 for sending me a copy of Kingsman and giving me the chance to finally watch it. It’s thanks to her that I am now part of this fandom! I’m so happy about it! I also have to thank her for beta reading this and everything I send her and coming up with the title for this piece!

If you would like to be tagged in any of my future pieces, check out my tag list above and let me know! And as always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

<3

- DreaSaurusREX

To say any part of your life was “normal” would be a fucking joke. Your father was a hacker for a secret organization called Kingsman under the codename Merline. As if that wasn’t abnormal enough, you were also a Kingsman. You had gone through all of the tests and passed with flying colors, earning you the codename Branwyn. But you seldom did fieldwork thanks to a genetic mutation.

You still didn’t fully understand how this happened, but what you did know was that you had a very rare genetic mutation that gave you “inhuman” abilities. Your mutation gave you pyrokinetic powers; in simple terms, you could manipulate fire. The mutation didn’t manifest until one night when you were attacked and almost raped on your way home from the pub one night. This dodgy guy wouldn’t take no for an answer, he started to reach for you and wouldn’t listen to your yelling. Then something lit up your insides, and your mutation left its mark on the man’s face. You ran home and called the one person who could help you: your father.

From that moment on, you lived closer to your father and started training with fellow Kingsman. You worked with your father and Lancelot, (her code name, although she let you call her Roxy) on keeping control. They knew a surprising amount of information that could help you. Focusing on your breathing seemed to be the biggest part. Now, your powers usually came out when you focused and called for them, but they would still burst forth when you were unstable. Breathing seemed to help with the latter. That being said, it was still a struggle sometimes.

A surprisingly helpful person was Eggsy Unwin. He was a confident, cheeky, handsome, and loyal man who snuck into your life and became your go-to-guy for almost anything. He started talking to you when you would be outside on your breaks. You always came out for fresh air at specific times of the day; noon and 7PM. And every time you went outside, Eggsy would just so happen to be taking a break too. He got you talking and the rest was history. Nowadays, he was the closest person in your life, other than your father.

You couldn’t help but have feelings for him. That being said, he didn’t know two things about you. 1) He didn’t know that Merlin was your father and 2) He didn’t know that you were pyrokinetic. The first one was a safety precaution that you and your father had talked about; the only other person that knew of your familial relation was Harry. The second, well that was your decision.

It was 6PM; you had been in a weird funk all day, so you decided to take your break a bit early to try to avoid Eggsy. As much as you loved him, you weren’t sure you wanted to be around people right now.

You sat against one of the decorative pieces in the backyard of the mansion. Taking a few deep breaths, you felt a little warmth in your left hand. Lifting it up, you saw a little flame floating in your palm. You slowly rolled it in between your fingers, much like regular people would do with a coin or a pen.

Small things like this were getting very easy for you to control. It didn’t require a lot of focus and sometimes even happened when you were alone and your mind wandered a bit. It was the big ones that required what felt like an impossible amount of energy and focus.

“After this break, I’m going to go back inside, do the last of my work for the night, then try to work with dad on building strength and trying to use this shit to my advantage. Being a hacker underneath him is respectable work, but FUCK I want to go and do shit like Eggsy or Roxy. Maybe even work with one of them. But how do I tell that to dad? He wants me to be safe and--”

You were so in your thoughts that you didn’t hear the footsteps of a certain green-eyed crush walking towards you until he spoke up. He was looking down at a file as he spoke.

“Hey, Branwyn. Merlin is lookin’ for ya’. I think it might be about going on a mission or someth-- What the fuck?!” Your head shot up and you grabbed the flame and made it disappear in your hand.

He was standing, stock-still, about five feet from you while you stared at him like a deer in headlights. Without saying anything, you quickly headed back inside to see what Merlin wanted. You hoped Eggsy wouldn’t follow you, but he was not far behind.

“This is why you don’t let your fuckin guard down! Now one more person knows about this. Yes, he is trustworthy beyond belief and won’t tell anyone, but he knows you’re a freak. He won’t look at you the same… Just make sure he knows that he can’t talk about this to anyone except dad or Roxy.”

The two of you were halfway to your dad’s office when you decided to speak.

“The only one you can talk to about what you just saw is Merlin. He knows about it and can probably explain it better than I can.”

“Can you just tell me what the fuck I just--”

“No. I’m not talking about it right now. I don’t… I just can’t. Let’s just see what Merlin wants and then move on. Alright?” your voice wavered a bit as you spoke. He nodded.

Eggsy hadn’t ever seen you like this. He knew you weren’t the most extroverted person, but he had never seen you look so small. As much as you tried to keep a strong face, he could see that you were scared and mentally scolding yourself for letting whatever the fuck he just saw slip. He was about to say something when you knocked on the door to the briefing room.

“Come in.” Merlin spoke up loud enough for you to hear on the other side of the thick door. Eggsy opened the door for you and then followed behind.

“Glad you two came quick. Fall in.”

“I’d like to keep this meeting quick, please. Also, I believe the plants need some watering soon. I was outside and that thought slipped my mind. Eggsy noticed too. Right, Eggsy?” You responded. Eggsy looked at you a bit confused before speaking.

“Uh… Yeah, I guess?”

Normally that would have sounded a bit rude or suspicious to Merlin, but you and your father had set up a sort of code. When you say any slight variation of the phrase “the plants need watering”, it meant that your mutation had or was acting up and you needed to get away from the public as soon as possible. The added part about Eggsy noticing told him that Eggsy had seen your fire and needed to be spoken to. Merlin nodded and then really looked at your face. Like Eggsy, he could tell that you were trying to look okay, but you were internally freaking out.

“Alright, I will take a look at that after this.” You nodded appreciatively and then tried your best to focus on the mission debriefing.

“We have a hit on a Russian official that we have been trying to get close to for a while: Arkady Popov.” You and Eggs put on your glasses and stared at the screen to see a photo of a man pop up. He was a white man with a scruffy beard and shoulder-length hair. He had a scar on his right cheek; probably from a fight.

“He was one of Valentine’s ‘friends’, but never got the implant. We believe that he is going to attempt to recreate the implant system and push an advanced version of Valentine’s idea. I am sending you two out there to watch him and eventually take him down. Branwyn, you will be behind the scenes. Your job is to hack into anything you deem necessary and make sure Galahad doesn’t get killed while he takes out the target. I will send more information to you both once you get on the jet. Any questions?” You and Eggsy shake your heads. “Alright then, I will stop by later Branwyn. Eggsy, I need to speak to you in private. Fall out.”

As soon as Merlin let you go, you made a ‘b’ line to your room. Eggsy was worried about you. He loved you, but you didn’t know.

“Hey (Y/N) wait up--” He tried to call out to you but you kept walking and Merlin stepped closer to him. Eggsy noticed a small flame taking over your left hand. You quickly grabbed your left hand with your right and tried to douse the fire.

“Eggsy.” Eggsy turned and walked closer towards Merlin. He spoke in a hushed tone near his ear.

“Please tell me I’m not crazy. I saw (Y/N) with a flame, but there was no fuckin lighter and I--” Merlin interrupted before Eggsy rambled too much.  

“Yes. I am going to explain to you what is going on, but this stays completely confidential until she is ready to expose that part of herself to everyone else. Understood?” Eggsy nodded.

“I just want to know how to help her. I care about her. A lot actually.”

“I know. I see how you look at her.” Eggsy looked taken aback before Merlin continued. “Come on. We’re going to talk in private. There is a lot to discuss.”

Tags: @the-witching-hours12-3 @eggsyunwinftw 

[ramajmedia]

Family Guy: 10 Storylines That Have Aged Poorly | ScreenRant

With an amazing 17 seasons on the air and more to come, Family Guy has become one of the most popular animated shows in television history. Its success is even more remarkable considering it was canceled for four years following its third season. Though it has clearly had success after being revived, some think the show's best years are behind long gone.

RELATED: The 10 Worst Family Guy Episodes Ever According To IMDb

Family Guy still has plenty of fans, but it's hard to deny that some aspects of the show have not aged well. Its penchant for pushing the envelope with the dark and controversial subject matter, its irreverent humor has made some parts of the show hard to watch. Here are some Family Guy storylines that have aged poorly.

10 Conway Twitty

Family Guy loves to throw in some random cutaways that have nothing to do with the story at hand. One of the longest-recurring gags involves Peter or other characters from the show introducing country singer Conway Twitty before cutting to an extended performance clip of the singer.

While the randomness of gag might have been funny at first, the frequent use of the joke only makes it less funny as time goes on. That's ignoring the fact that most of Family Guy's audience will have no idea who Conway Twitty actually is.

9 Stewie's Talking

Stewie Griffin is certainly one of the most interesting characters on the show. He was introduced as an unusually intelligent baby with an obsession of world domination. Since then, his passion for evil deeds has subsided and he remains a pretty normal talking baby.

RELATED: Family Guy: The 10 Worst Things Stewie Has Ever Done

However, whether or not Stewie can actually talk is a matter of some debate. There is some suggestion that only Brian understands Stewie but there is a lot of inconsistency with when he is understood by others and when he is not. The show jokes about the lack of answers but that only makes it more frustrating.

8 Chicken Fights

Another of the show's long-running gags is Peter's bizarre rivalry with a giant chicken. The two have butted heads on numerous occasions which always leads to an over-the-top and brutal fight which causes mass destruction.

The first couple of times it happened, it was funny for the sheer insanity of it all. Like the Conway Twitty gag, it seemed to think the longer it went on, the funnier it got. However, this is one of those jokes the show has run into the ground. Whenever it is used now, it stops being funny and feels more like the show is just running out of new ideas.

7 Old Man Herbert

There are countless side characters who populate the world of Family Guy and some are more memorable than others. Certainly, one of the more controversial additions is Herbert, the old, creepy neighbor. As Herbert was introduced, he appeared briefly as a man with an unsettling obsession with Chris.

RELATED: 10 Jokes From Frasier That Have Already Aged Poorly

As the show went on, Herbert became a more prominent character with the show even portraying him as a good guy in some cases. However, the show also continues to make jokes about the fact that Herbert is a pedophile which makes his continued inclusion in the show increasingly uncomfortable.

6 Peter's Background

There is certainly no shortage of entertaining characters in Family Guy, but Peter Griffin is clearly the star of the show. It's no surprise the show is eager to come up with all sorts of crazy adventures for him to go on.

RELATED: Family Guy: 10 Funniest Running Gags, Ranked

However, the show's continued exploration of Peter's background has grown confused and tiresome over time. Throughout the series, we've discovered that Peter has a different father than he thought, that he is of African heritage and that he was born in Mexico among other revelations. All these gimmicky reveals have rendered anything about Peter's past meaningless.

5 Cleveland's Absence

As Family Guy continued to be a success and Seth MacFarlane's other animated comedy, American Dad, also proved successful, the inevitable spin-off was created. While there were plenty of avenues the show could have taken, it surprisingly decided to focus on Peter's friend Cleveland for The Cleveland Show.

As the star of his new show, Cleveland leaves Quahog and his friends behind. However, after the cancellation of The Cleveland Show, he has to make his awkward return. The show just flat-out addressed the cancellation of the spinoff but it makes that time Cleveland is gone very noticeable.

4 It's A Trap

It's pretty clear that the minds behind Family Guy are massive Star Wars fans. There are references throughout the series to the Star Wars franchise and they eventually got to fully embrace that love with three Star Wars-centric episodes.

The series recreated the original trilogy with these homage/parody episodes. After tackling A New Hope and The Empire Strikes Back, the series took on Return of the Jedi. But in the opening crawl, they claim this last episode was forced on them and they didn't want to do it. The lackluster attempt shows and it is an unsatisfying end to Family Guy's Star Wars saga.

3 Mort Goldman

Family Guy has never been shy about being offensive. Fans will argue that the show takes the time to offend anyone and everyone without picking on one group of people more than others. Though there's some truth to that, the character of Mort Goldman is a pretty cringe-worthy part of the show.

RELATED: Family Guy: The 10 Most Annoying Characters, Ranked

The Jewish friend of the Griffins, Mort started as the neurotic and awkward character before simply becoming a punchline for Jewish jokes. The show doesn't even seem to be clever with its humor towards Mort, instead it pokes fun at tired and offensive stereotypes. Every time Mort appears, the show sinks a little lower.

2 Mistreatment Of Meg

Most shows have those characters that everyone else picks on. In Family Guy, the clear target is Meg. Perceived as unattractive and unpopular, Meg is the butt of many jokes and has even helped coin the catchphrase "Shut up, Meg."

While it can be fun to have a single character be hated in such an over-the-top manner, over time, the family's mistreatment of Meg has grown uncomfortable. The meanspirited and cruel way her parents treat her along with actual abuse gets less funny and starts to get sad.

1 Quagmire's Dating Life

Quagmire is one of the most prominent characters on the show as Peter's good friend. He is also known for his particularly wild sex life. As the show went on, that sex life became darker and darker with the show continuing to push the envelope.

Before long, the character of Quagmire had no boundaries with the show depicting some truly shocking moments. In this era in which sexual harassment and sexual assault are discussed so openly and victims are having their voice heard, Quagmire's exploits have gone from darkly comedic to deeply disturbing.

NEXT: 11 Shows To Watch If You Like Family Guy

source https://screenrant.com/family-guy-storylines-aged-poorly-tv-show/

[thesoujishow]

S01E02 - Raimei Tsubusu

[vaporwave lo-fi song]

Souji: Testing? Hello?

Raimei: WUUUUSSSSHHGFGSHSHSHSHSHSHSHS...SSHAAAAAAAA....

Souji: Ok. There we go.

[INTRO - glitchy transition music]

Souji: Hello, and welcome to the Souji Show. I'm Souji and this is a show where I talk about anything I want. 'Cause this is my show, and not yours.

Souji: This episode is sponsored by WcDonalds! WcDonald’s wants to remind you that the most important meal of the day is breakfast. [ominously] So why would you let a morning go by without staring deeply into the mirror until you no longer recognize the face staring back at you – mimicking your every gesture, mocking your every movement?

Souji: [confused + ominous] How else will you get the energy you need for a full day’s work or recreation if you aren’t silently screaming into the visage of a person who gives you such uneasy spirit, such unshakable terror, a queasy feeling every time you make the connection between what that thing is and what you are becoming? What you have become? Where does the void end? Where do you end? When do you end? What time is it now? You’ve been crying, but for how long?

Souji: [cheerful] WcDonald’s! I’m lovin’ it.

[MAIN - glitchy transition music]

Souji: For this very special episode, we have an extra special guest. You may know her as the Violet Vendetta or the captain of the baseball clan. Everyone, give it up for Raimei Tsubusu! You look fantastic today, can you tell our listeners what you're wearing?

Raimei: My sincere apologies for the white noise that was the sound of a closing inter-dimensional portal.

Raimei: It's good to be here. And a great sacrifice on your part, Souji. Not a lot of men would have the guts to expose themselves to this level of danger. As for my attire, these are unique garbs crafted by the Lunarian Moon People, forged in the pits of the thirty-second moon crater. They have plus fifty resilience to all forms of stabbing, cutting and elemental weapons, and the shirt comes with the added benefit of granting me the unique ability: Instantaneous Gangstah Charm. With this ability, I can instantaneously cast any Gokudō spell written within the Book of Yamaguchi.

Souji: Gokudō, that's a synonym for the yakuza, right?

Raimei: Yes, it is. It means the Extreme Path, the hidden school of mysticism I and others subscribe to—one of the five routes to enlightenment, alongside the Mafioso talent tree, and Mexican Cartel Member.

Raimei: In terms of appearance, I had the most excellent designers from Gucci collaborate with the moon people to compress it all down into a pair of pearl white trousers, a tuxedo jacket, white dress shirt, and leather shoes. The Gucci Glasses of Information allow me to see in infra-red and night vision, and I've also got a watch made of platinum that tells me the timezones of all the countries on the world, the moon people's time cycle, and of course, it also dual functions as a holographic mind reader.

Raimei: Some people believe Prada is better. They are wrong.

Souji: I'm more of a thrift store kinda guy, but to each their own. I'll have to get some tips from the Lunarian Moon People on how they make clothes. Most of my clothes are custom made for my Quirk to work on them so I like to sew them myself. Does your inter-dimensional portal go to the moon as well?

Raimei: I lived in this dimension for almost three hundred years before I finally managed to make my first slip into the dream-zone, and that was nearly one hundred years ago. It isn't precisely possible to take a direct, inter-dimensional portal to the moon itself. But it is possible to reach the mirror version of it in the ninth dimension. In that dimension, the moon's where the earth is. So that solves a lot of things. Has to do with the Lunarian's Mystic Mirror view. As you probably already know, portals like these are dependent on reflections. So their mirrors make that impossible by reflecting everything back onto the earth. That's why the moon looks white. It's actually a verdant landscape, filled with grass and trees and everything. But it seems like a rock because we're just looking at a dull reflection of our own planet.

Souji: That's a very unique way to look at the moon. Shoutout to the huge unknown object that smacked the shit out of the Earth billions of years ago and gave us the moon. The sun is cool but that was the real MVP.

Souji: I gotta say, you do look very gangstah. Not to mention a holographic mind reader? Quick, what am I thinking of right now? [laugh]

Raimei: I'm... not sure if that would be appropriate for me to say. Last time I mind read a guy... didn't end well. Besides, this holographic watch would also immediately turn it into a visualization, which can be very embarrassing. So I'll spare you that. But maybe I'll show you a glimpse of my power at the end of this podcast. Sounds good?

Souji: Sounds good. Guess the listeners will just have to stay tuned and find out. Tell me Raimei, how does a multi-dimensional creature end up in Kyoranki Academy? What motivates you to become a hero?

Raimei: That's a good one. There are several reasons. I've lived for about four hundred years in total, so technically speaking, there's no reason for me to go to school. But you might've noticed that there's an expansive underground movement hidden beneath the shadows... the recent events were just one example of that. The CIA, FBI, Interpol, Europol, they're all part of it in some way, preparing for the inevitable Todeskrieg Event. All the major crime groups are getting ready for that, so we are too.

Raimei: On a different level, related to my current incarnation, I'm not unfamiliar with thrift stores either. My dad works long hours... so I want to find a way to help him. I don't know, it's not really black or white. But why Kyoranki Academy? It's one of the best schools in the country. A lot of my middle school friends didn't even get to go to high school. So I consider myself very privileged. I think that alone is motivation enough to be here.

Souji: I get what you mean about helping your family. I think that's a noble cause, Raimei. I grew up poor and mum and dad were mostly out making ends meet. The money's still my number one motivator but it makes me happy knowing that I'll make the city a little bit better for everyone living in it.

Souji: I'm excited that we finally get to go on missions. It makes you think how much far we’ve come. It’s been a crazy year and now we’re actually doing our part to be heroes. I don’t know about you but I’m excited to take down my first villain.

Raimei: I'm concerned people are going to be misinterpreting their roles in this entire thing. Based on what you said earlier, you're from a poor neighbourhood as well, right? So you know what it's like on the streets. What I'm just concerned by is that a lot of the people in our class, like, ... I watch them. I see that the majority don't have that. They don't have any street smarts, they don't know what it's like to be in that situation, to be poor... to be under the influence of junkies across the street. Yea, we've been trained, but I'm unconvinced that we've been prepared to deal with those situations.

Raimei: I think we can take down villains, sure. And there might even be a few out there we could stop. But I'm not excited about running into one; nothing is exciting about meeting someone that potentially wants to kill you. And I'm not sure we're helping the city by pushing our authority down people's throats, especially by a bunch of teenagers that have been told this is their big shot at heroism. Your local twelve-year-old marijuana seller doesn't need juvie, they need role models; good, role models that can inspire them—structural improvements to their lives, like decent food.

Raimei: You know how crazy it is that I can buy five fast-food hamburgers for the price of one piece of supermarket vegetable? If people wanna help the neighbourhood; go help out at a shelter—a soup kitchen. Hand out food; give your homeless newspaper salesman some cash to get him through the day. Japanese society is harsh, man. The second you fall out of the boat, your chances are pretty much zero. Everyone despises you. Your family ousts you. It's not fun. I know it, I've seen it in friends; how they're getting torn apart just because they're like, half-Chinese or something.

Raimei: I hope our peers just remember that when they're going out. If you're going in there guns blazing, you're just going to hurt more people than you'll save.

Souji: I get what you mean. I grew up in the middle of downtown Osaka, nothing but skyscrapers. Our high rise apartment was small, but it kept us safe from the streets. The news spoke of heroes that roamed the streets, shutting down crime wherever they went. People spoke of bright, shining icons in colourful suits, flashing cheesy grins at the camera. But only a few came to ours.

Souji: Growing up in the poor meant that at a young age, I was very cognizant of how the money would and could limit me and my life as I attempted to get to the place where I am supposed to be. Most people our age will never know about ketchup sandwiches, adding water to milk or to an empty shampoo bottle to get more shampoo. Hand-me-downs clothes, books, toys. Having a ‘candle day’ because the lights don’t work. [chuckle]

Souji: When I say to people I know downtown Osaka like it's the back of my hand, I really do mean it. I know which places to avoid during certain times of the day. You had to be street smart to survive, those are the rules of the game.

Raimei: Mhm, mhm. That's what I'm saying. I'm from the outskirts of Airin-chiku, so it's pretty much the same issue.

Souji: It's easy to get caught up in the title. A hero. Believe me, I'll admit that fame is enticing but at the end of the day, we're here to protect the whole city. Trust is a fragile thing. I think most of us in Kyoranki know that because of what happened. Villains and heroes are two sides of the same coin. We're both them in nature. Both are corrupted by the noble illusion of spreading ideas and helping others who on the 'good' side defined by them respectively. It's always been the human struggle in defining 'help' more importantly 'the others'. I don't know if I'm making sense but that's how I feel. [chuckle]

Raimei: And there's a couple of areas in between that too, mind. Not everyone's a bad guy, and not everyone's a good guy like the heroes that just pander for attention or the bad guys that are in it to support their families financially.

Souji: This Todeskrieg Event sounds interesting, what's going to happen?

Raimei: The Egyptian Pyramids. The moon landings. Global warming. Why did they happen? Did they happen? Or were these just small glimpses out of a much larger conspiracy? Why dedicate millions, tens of millions of dollars only to put a guy on the moon?

Raimei: The various gangs around the world know the answer. At least, the established ones. It's all a part of this cybernetic A.I that has kept us trapped in a virtual reality dimension, Souji. You think all of this is real, but like, do we have any proof? How can we reliably say that this isn't just...computer generated?

Souji: I'm a big arcade, video game fan so this is right up my alley. I had the same hunch as you, Raimei. The truth is that there’s much we simply don’t understand about our reality, and I think it’s more likely than not that we are in some kind of a simulated universe. Now, it’s a much more sophisticated video game than the games we produce, just like today World of Warcraft and Fortnite is way more sophisticated than Pac-Man or Space Invaders. If we develop the ability to produce even one simulated reality, we will almost certainly produce more than one.

Raimei: That's what confuses people. They think I'm going on about some sort of magical thing. But magic and science are one and the same, magic's just another way of trying to add rationality to it. And that's part of the Todeskrieg event. It's French for "Totem Pole Disaster"... it's written about in various religions. Some call it the Apocalypse, others Ragnarok ... basically the end of the world. When the simulation will be using too much data for the computer to handle.

Souji: Maybe we're just figment of imaginations and our creators are just forcing their every whim to us for fun. They're our writers, and we are their characters. Maybe they're just a bunch of roleplayers in a Discord server together? Do you hear that creator? I'm The Glitch now, a bug in your system. A disruption to the simulation.

Raimei: Based on archaeological data, humans, in our current shape and form... have existed for about two-hundred thousand years. Now, of course, imagine you're a person living in those sorts of environments. Yes, you'll be stuck most of the day, collecting food and whatever. But do you think those people were dumber than us? Of course not! They might've not had the schooling, but they had the same type of brain.

Raimei: Now, imagine that sort of situation. Okay, so, the first generation of Humans... they got it hard. The second one does as well. The third generation, well, it's a bit easier. And the fourth one... we're talking about everything within the span of a hundred years, considering people lived shorter lives.

Raimei: Now multiply that by a hundred. One hundred thousand years and they're trying to convince us that people only invented farming techniques twelve thousand years ago? It doesn't make sense. You can't convince me, people, before that time didn't... invent something. Didn't create something. Didn't create a civilization. Imagine, with our technology, with our A.I systems, our virtual reality capacities... I mean, if you're into gaming, look at the last fifty years.

Raimei: Now multiply that by four. Imagine just how bizarre that technology would be. Already, we've got games that are borderline lifelike. So how can we know that this isn't just.. some giant simulation? We can't. And we have to look at the empirical, most logical type of data. There's more evidence to suggest all of this is just a program than there is evidence to the contrary. But scientists aren't willing to recognize that.

Souji: I know! I can't believe no one is talking about this. Paranormal events like hauntings or alien encounters can be glitches in the simulation. Stuff like the Mandela Effect is supposedly proof that whoever is in charge of our simulation is changing the past. And don't get me started on Quirks! Superpowers born from radiation. You’re not going to get proof that we’re not in a simulation, because any evidence that we get could be simulated. If I were a character in a computer game, I would also discover eventually that the rules of our universe seem completely rigid and mathematical.

Souji: We’ve spent billions sending probes through outer space and should probably have found evidence of extraterrestrials by now, right? Not so fast: Aliens would likely be far more technologically advanced than we are, the thinking goes, so the fact that we haven’t located them suggests we live in a simulation they’ve figured out how to escape from. Or maybe the computer we’re in only has enough RAM to simulate one planetary civilization at a time?

Raimei: That's what we've been preparing for. The drug trade, the crime cartels, it all has to do with that.

[ASK SOUJI - glitchy transition music]

Souji: Now, let's shine the spotlight back towards the main focus of his podcast... me! Now, Raimei, it's your turn to ask me questions. C'mon, don't be shy, ask anything you'd like.

Raimei: are you sure you want to give me that sort of power? Because if I get to ask anything I like... First up, what's the deal with you and Ken? I don't want to pry into your love life, but you two looked very cosy in that meeting room.

Souji: Me and Ken? Love life? Oh, umm. I mean, umm. No, we aren't. You know. Together like that. [stammering]

Souji: We're just rivals! Yes, rivals. We started talking over the summer and we got closer during the campfire trip. Bunk buddies. Yeah, that. No love life here.

Raimei: Uh-huh. ... Bunk buddies. Well, if that's the official answer...

Souji: ...yes! Bunk buddies. That's the official answer.

Raimei: And I guess, another question is... why did you start this podcast? I'm not exactly famous or especially well-liked around the school, so I'm wondering why you're inviting someone like me to do this sort of thing.

Souji: I started this podcast because of Starlight. He's my favourite hero as you can probably tell. I always watched his talk show growing up, and it was what inspired me to enrol in Kyoranki in the first place. So this podcast is me passing it forward. I want to inspire other kids just like what Starlight did to me. One interview at the time.

Raimei: That's good. That you got a role model to follow, I mean... that you know what you want to do, and who ya wish to emulate. It's the same thing with the guys I mentioned earlier. ... Don't have plushies of them though, unfortunately.

Souji: You say the weirdest stuff in our group chat and I like it! You're interesting, zany and fun. You have a unique point of view, and having you in my show is an honour in it of itself.

Raimei: And I appreciate that about inviting me on your show I mean. Glad I could mention those frustrations I've been holding up. Don't have to go out of your way for me though, I'm okay with sticking to my own little bubble. That's just the life of a made-man. Forever in the shadows.

[Qs from the GC - glitchy transition music]

Souji: Let's move on to our audience questions! These were submitted by our classmates in our group chat. Ready?

Raimei: Yea, audience questions. I'm honestly surprised anyone finds me interesting enough to ask questions, but okay, let's go

Souji: Chia wants to know who are the special people in your life? What's something you're proud of and embarrassed by?

Raimei: Special people, huh? Well, I've got my dad. My mom ran out on us when I was little, so it has always been us versus the world. I've been going to a gym now for about... five years? And the people there are my role models, I guess. They inspired me to get into sports, like boxing. One in particular... the guy's a genuine sumo wrestler. But of the old generation? But yea, those guys have made a significant impact on me.

Souji: Haruto asks, why is your skin purple? Likewise, Ao inquires, do you know the girl who turned into a blueberry in Wonka's factory?

Raimei: As for my skin colour, ... I guess I've gotten a bit desensitized to questions like that. It's a skin mutation on my mother's side, supposedly to do with Quirks. I don't know, I always find it a bit weird to talk about. That nickname they gave me too, it's like calling someone with a darker skin pigmentation the "Black Vendetta". I mean, not that I mind. Asking about the pigmentation's no problem because it's odd. I'm just saying, it feels a bit shitty to compare me with some fucking Willy Wonka scene when like six months ago a kid got bullied out of school because people kept comparing him to a video game character; so, uh, Ao, you're cool. No hard feelings. I'm just going to subtly compare you to a fucking Star Wars Droid if you try that shit again.

Souji: Ken wants to know what you think of the recent baseball team tryout. And to that I say: we have a baseball team? Can I also try out just to beat that monkey boy?

Raimei: Yea, we got a baseball team! I mean, we got teams for nearly every popular sport, right? It's a prestigious school, after all. But we're doing our best to try for the nationals. And you're welcome to join up if you want, we can definitely use a few more clan members. As for our most recent try-out... that all depends on whether he joins up or not.

Souji: Kotoe inquires, do you play the bass?

Raimei: I don't play the bass or any other instrument.

Souji: And finally, Fumi wants to know your favourite genre of book.

Raimei: My favourite genre of books is crime novels.

[ENDING - glitchy transition music]

Souji: Well, we're nearing the end of our show, Raimei, is there anything you'd like to remind our audience, maybe plug whenever they can find you online? Maybe some tips on how to prepare for the Todeskrieg Event?

Raimei: I had an excellent time Souji. Thanks for inviting me. As for preparations, the people can make for the Todeskrieg Event, consider this a bit of an unofficial announcement; we are in fact a highly secretive group. But we, that being me and a few other highly skilled individuals steeped knee-deep in the criminal underground, decided to create a sparring group a few months ago. A fighting ring, as it were.

Raimei: There's no real focus on anything other than fighting a lot, gaining that sort of experience. I don't really bother with rankings or who's best or whatever either, I mean, my choice to just not participate in that tournament should prove of that. So there's no ego thing going on. Whether ya win or lose, it's all good. It's like a clan...But our meetings are sorta irregular, so you can still be part of another, like how I'm still in the baseball clan.

Raimei: As for the best way to contact me, all the usual underground channels work.

Souji: You've been pretty cool to talk to, so before you leave, I have a special surprise just for you. But don't forget, you promised to show me a glimpse of your power.

Raimei: And I did promise to show you a sample of my hidden, mystical power, didn't I? Alright- I'll try and make sure to contain it so that we don't blow up this entire office.

[sounds of moving chairs]

[sound of an 80s disco beat from silly cartoons transformation scenes]

Raimei: Ultra-Mobster, transformation! Percentage; three hundred!

Raimei: Yamaguchi-Gumi spell; Fifty-Five! Gokudō code, page three. Entering heat mode. Specialized skill; DISROBE.

[sounds of thunder]

Raimei: Looks like I got a new favourite shirt. Thanks, Glitch.

Souji: What a way to end the show! [applause]

Souji: Well listeners, if the world does turn out to be just a simulation, remember to make the most of it. Make a point of seeing some good in every day. Drop your resentments. We all have them. Make every day count. The end of the world is coming but until then, to keep up with the show follow me @thesoujishow, and to support my small clothing business, follow @glitchgear on all social media platforms. Once again, this has been Raimei Tsubusu and Souji Yoshihiro, and you’ve been listening to the Souji Show! A show where I talk about anything I want. 'Cause this is my show, and not yours. Until next time. Insert catchphrase here.

[vaporwave lo-fi song]

[EXTRAS - glitchy transition music]

Souji: If you listen to this podcast, chances are you go to Kyoranki Academy. Kido Kotoe is looking for a bass player for her band. So if any of you are interested, please contact her at [Kotoe's school email].

[samanthasroberts]

I’m Here To Collect The Debt You Owe. Please Don’t Kill Me

People don’t like to talk to creditors. People screen their phone calls, and toss out the bills. But it’s harder to ignore someone standing on your doorstep, especially when you don’t know why they’re there until they tell you. That’s me: I’m a debt collector. I’m not authorized to hold you upside down and shake the coins out of your pockets, but I do carry some scary-looking paperwork. And in my travels, I’ve found that …

5

America Is Full Of Weird, Isolated, Occasionally Creepy Communities

A few years ago, I did a two-day stint in West Virginia. The hills play havoc with GPS signals out there. Plus the maps aren’t all that accurate, and the roads are not maintained. Some aren’t even drivable. They don’t always bother putting up a sign to say so.

traveler1116 /iStock Google sent a Street View car there. It never came back.

Driving down a road that had degenerated into a dirt track, my Jeep sank right up to its undercarriage in a mud pond, and when I trekked up to a farmhouse, the folks there said, “Why, everyone knows that road’s been out for years!” The farmer got one of his tractors and hauled my Jeep out. Months later, my water pump died. When the mechanics called me, they said, “We’ve never seen anything like it! It’s like your water pump was full of swamp water!”

That’s generally how it goes: Rural areas are the worst to get around in, but anytime I’ve needed help, someone always chipped in — whether it was from me knocking on a farmhouse door, or someone just happening to drive past at the right time.

werner22brigitte/Pixabay And not always in a car …

One time I was called to a nudist colony. The office building had a board in place of a door. On the other side of a hill were a couple dozen campers and mobile homes. No people. Several more trailers had their doors kicked in. One was on its side, and another had been on fire at some point. It looked like the apocalypse hit this place. If anyone was left, I didn’t want to meet him or her. “Hey, could you tell me which trailer belongs to this almost certainly dead person? Oh, no, I can’t tell you why I’m looking for them. Hey, could you put down that chainsaw?”

When I checked the web later, Yelp was inconclusive about whether the place was open or closed, but it did specify that it was a “boys’ nudist camp,” which just added to the creep factor.

Vintervit/iStock That’s why they call it “Yelp!”

4

People Want To Kill You

It was late autumn, and the sun was going down when I arrived at a single-family home in a working-class neighborhood. I heard shouting. A man and a woman. I knocked anyways, and the shouting stopped. An athletic man in his late 20s opened the door, and I could see a woman just leaving the room. Another man around the same age sat on the couch behind a coffee table covered in empty beer bottles.

“Oh, you’re sorting through your recycling? I can come back later.”

I was already apprehensive, but I was new and didn’t really know what to do. So I went into my standard script. I introduced myself and explained that I was there about a late car payment. He nodded and invited me in, usually a good sign. Some clients require that we never enter a debtor’s house for liability reasons, but that wasn’t the case on this job. When someone invites you in, that’s usually an extension of trust. If you refuse, that could be taken as a rejection of their trust.

Once I was inside, he sat down and said: “You know I’m an Army Ranger. I’ve been to Afghanistan. It wouldn’t be anything to me to kill you right now.” Turns out that his friend was an Army Ranger too. After only a few moments, the friend left, which at first I took to be a good thing. Then I realized he was moving his car to block me into the driveway.

One more reason we need flying cars.

Fortunately, I’d spent eight years managing a customer service call center, dealing with the angriest of callers. Those same skills applied here. I emphasized that I was a private contractor and didn’t actually care if he ever made another car payment again. I also pointed out that I wasn’t the repo guy, and me being there was actually a good thing, because the bank was still trying to work with him. And for the only time ever, I pointed out that even if he killed me, his debt wasn’t going anywhere. A risky move, but it seemed to deflate him.

“Plus, how are you going to buy the tools to bury me without credit? Well? Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

That was the first time a customer threatened to kill me. It wasn’t the last. But while I can reason with angry customers, well …

3

You Can’t Reason With Dogs

I get attacked by dogs a lot. It’s a professional problem, not a personal one. Luckily, I have a defense method that, so far, has had a 100 percent success rating: my clipboard. As the dog rushes toward me, I grab my clipboard with both hands and put it between us, metal clip towards the dog. The dog doesn’t want to bite the metal, so it starts trying to dodge past it. I just keep moving the clipboard around until the dog gets frustrated and retreats a few steps.

All the while battling flashbacks from the vet’s.

Then I back off of the property and get in my car. If I can, I photograph the dog. Most of the clients that hire me to collect on the debt end up paying me anyways, and then blacklisting the property from future field-service reps.

About halfway to one house, I heard barking and saw a pit bull tear out of the woods. Now, I know it can be an unfairly maligned breed, and I’ve known some real sweetheart pit bulls. This was not one of them. Still, I had my clipboard and I thought to myself, “another day in paradise.” Then I saw the second one. And the third, and the fourth.

“Your dick. This could be your dick.”

They surrounded me, and started lunging. I kept spinning, trying to keep them from a clear shot, clipboarding whichever was closest. Somehow I got out and got home. I kissed my wife, and then immediately got blackout drunk.

2

No One Likes A Debt Collector

Sometimes, the bank sends out paperwork, and all the homeowner has to do is fill it out, then the bank lowers their monthly payment instead of foreclosing. But most people still won’t do it. Filling out the paperwork means acknowledging the problem, and people would rather just not deal with it.

The bank mails “deal with it” memes but to no avail.

So the bank sends me. I spoke with one woman who said that she hadn’t made a house payment in seven years. She was retired, unexpected expenses had depleted her savings, and she couldn’t afford her home on her Social Security. I was gathering info to lower her payments, but she was so ashamed of her situation that I had to drag everything out of her.

Now, I know predatory loans exist. I know some banks are eager to foreclose, to the point that they’ll do it prematurely, or even go after the wrong property. But those ones rarely hire me — my clients would rather have the payment than the collateral. You don’t hire someone like me if you just want to foreclose.

When they roll out the milking machine, they’re not interested in making hamburger meat of you.

I talk to middle-class people who have never had serious financial trouble before. The emotions involved are so strong, that even when the bank wants to work with them, they’ll dodge phone calls and ignore letters. One guy took one look at the paperwork and said: “You can get the fuck out of my house.”

“You know I’m here to help, right?”

“I know. Now get the fuck out.”

About this time, you’re probably wondering, “What do you carry for protection?”

Man evolved past its primal fear of clipboards years ago.

The answer is: Nothing.

When I first started this job, I thought about getting a concealed carry permit. But most clients specifically forbid me from carrying a weapon of any kind, even mace. The reason: I’m there to collect a debt. If the debtor sees any weapon, that can be an attempt at coercion, an implied threat. You can’t threaten or coerce with physical violence as part of debt collection.

As scary as that sounds …

1

Every Weird Encounter Just Increases My Sympathy For People

Every once in a while, I’ll be talking to someone and see the newest Call Of Duty game paused on their new PS4 on their new giant-ass TV. I don’t say it, but I can’t help but think I know where at least some of that car payment went. “Comfort” purchases go up during recessions. And honestly, I don’t blame them.

Besides, nothing I say can be more hurtful than what some 13-year-old is yelling at them during multiplayer.

I used to work for little more than minimum wage, so I’ve had to play the “which bill can I let slide this month” game. When you’ve been chronically behind on bills for a while, you can’t just cut out all recreation. You’d kill yourself or go mad. Anyone who hears about debtors going out on a Friday and thinks, “they shouldn’t be spending money if they’re behind on the house” — well, they should be spending less money, perhaps, but they also need to keep themselves sane. I’d like to say I’ve learned a lot about people from looking into their homes. But the real thing I’ve learned is that you can’t truly know what’s going on in other people’s lives just from appearances, so it’s best not to judge.

And that good running shoes are always a sound investment.

Please help JSH Placie get attacked by fewer dogs. Check out his short fiction here and here. Fair warning, it’s not comedy, but it is good. Ryan Menezes is on Twitter for stuff cut from this article and other things no one should see.

Also check out 5 Disturbing New Ways Debt Collectors Are Getting Your Money and 6 Creepy Schemes Companies Use To Bury You In Debt.

Hey Cracked Podcast fans: Join Alex Schmidt, Daniel O’Brien, Katie Goldin, and our favorite LA comedians for a deep dive into which animals could conquer the world if they tried. Get your tickets here.

Subscribe to our YouTube channel, and check out Why Credit Cards Are A Scam, and other videos you won’t see on the site!

Follow us on Facebook, and we’ll follow you everywhere.

If we’ve ever made you laugh or think, we now have a way where you can thank and support us!

Make a contribution

Source: http://allofbeer.com/im-here-to-collect-the-debt-you-owe-please-dont-kill-me/

from All of Beer https://allofbeer.wordpress.com/2018/02/23/im-here-to-collect-the-debt-you-owe-please-dont-kill-me/

[adambstingus]

I’m Here To Collect The Debt You Owe. Please Don’t Kill Me

People don’t like to talk to creditors. People screen their phone calls, and toss out the bills. But it’s harder to ignore someone standing on your doorstep, especially when you don’t know why they’re there until they tell you. That’s me: I’m a debt collector. I’m not authorized to hold you upside down and shake the coins out of your pockets, but I do carry some scary-looking paperwork. And in my travels, I’ve found that …

5

America Is Full Of Weird, Isolated, Occasionally Creepy Communities

A few years ago, I did a two-day stint in West Virginia. The hills play havoc with GPS signals out there. Plus the maps aren’t all that accurate, and the roads are not maintained. Some aren’t even drivable. They don’t always bother putting up a sign to say so.

traveler1116 /iStock Google sent a Street View car there. It never came back.

Driving down a road that had degenerated into a dirt track, my Jeep sank right up to its undercarriage in a mud pond, and when I trekked up to a farmhouse, the folks there said, “Why, everyone knows that road’s been out for years!” The farmer got one of his tractors and hauled my Jeep out. Months later, my water pump died. When the mechanics called me, they said, “We’ve never seen anything like it! It’s like your water pump was full of swamp water!”

That’s generally how it goes: Rural areas are the worst to get around in, but anytime I’ve needed help, someone always chipped in — whether it was from me knocking on a farmhouse door, or someone just happening to drive past at the right time.

werner22brigitte/Pixabay And not always in a car …

One time I was called to a nudist colony. The office building had a board in place of a door. On the other side of a hill were a couple dozen campers and mobile homes. No people. Several more trailers had their doors kicked in. One was on its side, and another had been on fire at some point. It looked like the apocalypse hit this place. If anyone was left, I didn’t want to meet him or her. “Hey, could you tell me which trailer belongs to this almost certainly dead person? Oh, no, I can’t tell you why I’m looking for them. Hey, could you put down that chainsaw?”

When I checked the web later, Yelp was inconclusive about whether the place was open or closed, but it did specify that it was a “boys’ nudist camp,” which just added to the creep factor.

Vintervit/iStock That’s why they call it “Yelp!”

4

People Want To Kill You

It was late autumn, and the sun was going down when I arrived at a single-family home in a working-class neighborhood. I heard shouting. A man and a woman. I knocked anyways, and the shouting stopped. An athletic man in his late 20s opened the door, and I could see a woman just leaving the room. Another man around the same age sat on the couch behind a coffee table covered in empty beer bottles.

“Oh, you’re sorting through your recycling? I can come back later.”

I was already apprehensive, but I was new and didn’t really know what to do. So I went into my standard script. I introduced myself and explained that I was there about a late car payment. He nodded and invited me in, usually a good sign. Some clients require that we never enter a debtor’s house for liability reasons, but that wasn’t the case on this job. When someone invites you in, that’s usually an extension of trust. If you refuse, that could be taken as a rejection of their trust.

Once I was inside, he sat down and said: “You know I’m an Army Ranger. I’ve been to Afghanistan. It wouldn’t be anything to me to kill you right now.” Turns out that his friend was an Army Ranger too. After only a few moments, the friend left, which at first I took to be a good thing. Then I realized he was moving his car to block me into the driveway.

One more reason we need flying cars.

Fortunately, I’d spent eight years managing a customer service call center, dealing with the angriest of callers. Those same skills applied here. I emphasized that I was a private contractor and didn’t actually care if he ever made another car payment again. I also pointed out that I wasn’t the repo guy, and me being there was actually a good thing, because the bank was still trying to work with him. And for the only time ever, I pointed out that even if he killed me, his debt wasn’t going anywhere. A risky move, but it seemed to deflate him.

“Plus, how are you going to buy the tools to bury me without credit? Well? Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

That was the first time a customer threatened to kill me. It wasn’t the last. But while I can reason with angry customers, well …

3

You Can’t Reason With Dogs

I get attacked by dogs a lot. It’s a professional problem, not a personal one. Luckily, I have a defense method that, so far, has had a 100 percent success rating: my clipboard. As the dog rushes toward me, I grab my clipboard with both hands and put it between us, metal clip towards the dog. The dog doesn’t want to bite the metal, so it starts trying to dodge past it. I just keep moving the clipboard around until the dog gets frustrated and retreats a few steps.

All the while battling flashbacks from the vet’s.

Then I back off of the property and get in my car. If I can, I photograph the dog. Most of the clients that hire me to collect on the debt end up paying me anyways, and then blacklisting the property from future field-service reps.

About halfway to one house, I heard barking and saw a pit bull tear out of the woods. Now, I know it can be an unfairly maligned breed, and I’ve known some real sweetheart pit bulls. This was not one of them. Still, I had my clipboard and I thought to myself, “another day in paradise.” Then I saw the second one. And the third, and the fourth.

“Your dick. This could be your dick.”

They surrounded me, and started lunging. I kept spinning, trying to keep them from a clear shot, clipboarding whichever was closest. Somehow I got out and got home. I kissed my wife, and then immediately got blackout drunk.

2

No One Likes A Debt Collector

Sometimes, the bank sends out paperwork, and all the homeowner has to do is fill it out, then the bank lowers their monthly payment instead of foreclosing. But most people still won’t do it. Filling out the paperwork means acknowledging the problem, and people would rather just not deal with it.

The bank mails “deal with it” memes but to no avail.

So the bank sends me. I spoke with one woman who said that she hadn’t made a house payment in seven years. She was retired, unexpected expenses had depleted her savings, and she couldn’t afford her home on her Social Security. I was gathering info to lower her payments, but she was so ashamed of her situation that I had to drag everything out of her.

Now, I know predatory loans exist. I know some banks are eager to foreclose, to the point that they’ll do it prematurely, or even go after the wrong property. But those ones rarely hire me — my clients would rather have the payment than the collateral. You don’t hire someone like me if you just want to foreclose.

When they roll out the milking machine, they’re not interested in making hamburger meat of you.

I talk to middle-class people who have never had serious financial trouble before. The emotions involved are so strong, that even when the bank wants to work with them, they’ll dodge phone calls and ignore letters. One guy took one look at the paperwork and said: “You can get the fuck out of my house.”

“You know I’m here to help, right?”

“I know. Now get the fuck out.”

About this time, you’re probably wondering, “What do you carry for protection?”

Man evolved past its primal fear of clipboards years ago.

The answer is: Nothing.

When I first started this job, I thought about getting a concealed carry permit. But most clients specifically forbid me from carrying a weapon of any kind, even mace. The reason: I’m there to collect a debt. If the debtor sees any weapon, that can be an attempt at coercion, an implied threat. You can’t threaten or coerce with physical violence as part of debt collection.

As scary as that sounds …

1

Every Weird Encounter Just Increases My Sympathy For People

Every once in a while, I’ll be talking to someone and see the newest Call Of Duty game paused on their new PS4 on their new giant-ass TV. I don’t say it, but I can’t help but think I know where at least some of that car payment went. “Comfort” purchases go up during recessions. And honestly, I don’t blame them.

Besides, nothing I say can be more hurtful than what some 13-year-old is yelling at them during multiplayer.

I used to work for little more than minimum wage, so I’ve had to play the “which bill can I let slide this month” game. When you’ve been chronically behind on bills for a while, you can’t just cut out all recreation. You’d kill yourself or go mad. Anyone who hears about debtors going out on a Friday and thinks, “they shouldn’t be spending money if they’re behind on the house” — well, they should be spending less money, perhaps, but they also need to keep themselves sane. I’d like to say I’ve learned a lot about people from looking into their homes. But the real thing I’ve learned is that you can’t truly know what’s going on in other people’s lives just from appearances, so it’s best not to judge.

And that good running shoes are always a sound investment.

Please help JSH Placie get attacked by fewer dogs. Check out his short fiction here and here. Fair warning, it’s not comedy, but it is good. Ryan Menezes is on Twitter for stuff cut from this article and other things no one should see.

Also check out 5 Disturbing New Ways Debt Collectors Are Getting Your Money and 6 Creepy Schemes Companies Use To Bury You In Debt.

Hey Cracked Podcast fans: Join Alex Schmidt, Daniel O’Brien, Katie Goldin, and our favorite LA comedians for a deep dive into which animals could conquer the world if they tried. Get your tickets here.

Subscribe to our YouTube channel, and check out Why Credit Cards Are A Scam, and other videos you won’t see on the site!

Follow us on Facebook, and we’ll follow you everywhere.

If we’ve ever made you laugh or think, we now have a way where you can thank and support us!

Make a contribution

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/im-here-to-collect-the-debt-you-owe-please-dont-kill-me/ from All of Beer https://allofbeercom.tumblr.com/post/171213009947

[allofbeercom]

I’m Here To Collect The Debt You Owe. Please Don’t Kill Me

People don’t like to talk to creditors. People screen their phone calls, and toss out the bills. But it’s harder to ignore someone standing on your doorstep, especially when you don’t know why they’re there until they tell you. That’s me: I’m a debt collector. I’m not authorized to hold you upside down and shake the coins out of your pockets, but I do carry some scary-looking paperwork. And in my travels, I’ve found that …

5

America Is Full Of Weird, Isolated, Occasionally Creepy Communities

A few years ago, I did a two-day stint in West Virginia. The hills play havoc with GPS signals out there. Plus the maps aren’t all that accurate, and the roads are not maintained. Some aren’t even drivable. They don’t always bother putting up a sign to say so.

traveler1116 /iStock Google sent a Street View car there. It never came back.

Driving down a road that had degenerated into a dirt track, my Jeep sank right up to its undercarriage in a mud pond, and when I trekked up to a farmhouse, the folks there said, “Why, everyone knows that road’s been out for years!” The farmer got one of his tractors and hauled my Jeep out. Months later, my water pump died. When the mechanics called me, they said, “We’ve never seen anything like it! It’s like your water pump was full of swamp water!”

That’s generally how it goes: Rural areas are the worst to get around in, but anytime I’ve needed help, someone always chipped in — whether it was from me knocking on a farmhouse door, or someone just happening to drive past at the right time.

werner22brigitte/Pixabay And not always in a car …

One time I was called to a nudist colony. The office building had a board in place of a door. On the other side of a hill were a couple dozen campers and mobile homes. No people. Several more trailers had their doors kicked in. One was on its side, and another had been on fire at some point. It looked like the apocalypse hit this place. If anyone was left, I didn’t want to meet him or her. “Hey, could you tell me which trailer belongs to this almost certainly dead person? Oh, no, I can’t tell you why I’m looking for them. Hey, could you put down that chainsaw?”

When I checked the web later, Yelp was inconclusive about whether the place was open or closed, but it did specify that it was a “boys’ nudist camp,” which just added to the creep factor.

Vintervit/iStock That’s why they call it “Yelp!”

4

People Want To Kill You

It was late autumn, and the sun was going down when I arrived at a single-family home in a working-class neighborhood. I heard shouting. A man and a woman. I knocked anyways, and the shouting stopped. An athletic man in his late 20s opened the door, and I could see a woman just leaving the room. Another man around the same age sat on the couch behind a coffee table covered in empty beer bottles.

“Oh, you’re sorting through your recycling? I can come back later.”

I was already apprehensive, but I was new and didn’t really know what to do. So I went into my standard script. I introduced myself and explained that I was there about a late car payment. He nodded and invited me in, usually a good sign. Some clients require that we never enter a debtor’s house for liability reasons, but that wasn’t the case on this job. When someone invites you in, that’s usually an extension of trust. If you refuse, that could be taken as a rejection of their trust.

Once I was inside, he sat down and said: “You know I’m an Army Ranger. I’ve been to Afghanistan. It wouldn’t be anything to me to kill you right now.” Turns out that his friend was an Army Ranger too. After only a few moments, the friend left, which at first I took to be a good thing. Then I realized he was moving his car to block me into the driveway.

One more reason we need flying cars.

Fortunately, I’d spent eight years managing a customer service call center, dealing with the angriest of callers. Those same skills applied here. I emphasized that I was a private contractor and didn’t actually care if he ever made another car payment again. I also pointed out that I wasn’t the repo guy, and me being there was actually a good thing, because the bank was still trying to work with him. And for the only time ever, I pointed out that even if he killed me, his debt wasn’t going anywhere. A risky move, but it seemed to deflate him.

“Plus, how are you going to buy the tools to bury me without credit? Well? Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

That was the first time a customer threatened to kill me. It wasn’t the last. But while I can reason with angry customers, well …

3

You Can’t Reason With Dogs

I get attacked by dogs a lot. It’s a professional problem, not a personal one. Luckily, I have a defense method that, so far, has had a 100 percent success rating: my clipboard. As the dog rushes toward me, I grab my clipboard with both hands and put it between us, metal clip towards the dog. The dog doesn’t want to bite the metal, so it starts trying to dodge past it. I just keep moving the clipboard around until the dog gets frustrated and retreats a few steps.

All the while battling flashbacks from the vet’s.

Then I back off of the property and get in my car. If I can, I photograph the dog. Most of the clients that hire me to collect on the debt end up paying me anyways, and then blacklisting the property from future field-service reps.

About halfway to one house, I heard barking and saw a pit bull tear out of the woods. Now, I know it can be an unfairly maligned breed, and I’ve known some real sweetheart pit bulls. This was not one of them. Still, I had my clipboard and I thought to myself, “another day in paradise.” Then I saw the second one. And the third, and the fourth.

“Your dick. This could be your dick.”

They surrounded me, and started lunging. I kept spinning, trying to keep them from a clear shot, clipboarding whichever was closest. Somehow I got out and got home. I kissed my wife, and then immediately got blackout drunk.

2

No One Likes A Debt Collector

Sometimes, the bank sends out paperwork, and all the homeowner has to do is fill it out, then the bank lowers their monthly payment instead of foreclosing. But most people still won’t do it. Filling out the paperwork means acknowledging the problem, and people would rather just not deal with it.

The bank mails “deal with it” memes but to no avail.

So the bank sends me. I spoke with one woman who said that she hadn’t made a house payment in seven years. She was retired, unexpected expenses had depleted her savings, and she couldn’t afford her home on her Social Security. I was gathering info to lower her payments, but she was so ashamed of her situation that I had to drag everything out of her.

Now, I know predatory loans exist. I know some banks are eager to foreclose, to the point that they’ll do it prematurely, or even go after the wrong property. But those ones rarely hire me — my clients would rather have the payment than the collateral. You don’t hire someone like me if you just want to foreclose.

When they roll out the milking machine, they’re not interested in making hamburger meat of you.

I talk to middle-class people who have never had serious financial trouble before. The emotions involved are so strong, that even when the bank wants to work with them, they’ll dodge phone calls and ignore letters. One guy took one look at the paperwork and said: “You can get the fuck out of my house.”

“You know I’m here to help, right?”

“I know. Now get the fuck out.”

About this time, you’re probably wondering, “What do you carry for protection?”

Man evolved past its primal fear of clipboards years ago.

The answer is: Nothing.

When I first started this job, I thought about getting a concealed carry permit. But most clients specifically forbid me from carrying a weapon of any kind, even mace. The reason: I’m there to collect a debt. If the debtor sees any weapon, that can be an attempt at coercion, an implied threat. You can’t threaten or coerce with physical violence as part of debt collection.

As scary as that sounds …

1

Every Weird Encounter Just Increases My Sympathy For People

Every once in a while, I’ll be talking to someone and see the newest Call Of Duty game paused on their new PS4 on their new giant-ass TV. I don’t say it, but I can’t help but think I know where at least some of that car payment went. “Comfort” purchases go up during recessions. And honestly, I don’t blame them.

Besides, nothing I say can be more hurtful than what some 13-year-old is yelling at them during multiplayer.

I used to work for little more than minimum wage, so I’ve had to play the “which bill can I let slide this month” game. When you’ve been chronically behind on bills for a while, you can’t just cut out all recreation. You’d kill yourself or go mad. Anyone who hears about debtors going out on a Friday and thinks, “they shouldn’t be spending money if they’re behind on the house” — well, they should be spending less money, perhaps, but they also need to keep themselves sane. I’d like to say I’ve learned a lot about people from looking into their homes. But the real thing I’ve learned is that you can’t truly know what’s going on in other people’s lives just from appearances, so it’s best not to judge.

And that good running shoes are always a sound investment.

Please help JSH Placie get attacked by fewer dogs. Check out his short fiction here and here. Fair warning, it’s not comedy, but it is good. Ryan Menezes is on Twitter for stuff cut from this article and other things no one should see.

Also check out 5 Disturbing New Ways Debt Collectors Are Getting Your Money and 6 Creepy Schemes Companies Use To Bury You In Debt.

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from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/im-here-to-collect-the-debt-you-owe-please-dont-kill-me/

[darkmindsthinktwistedthoughts]

Senpai!!!! May I request a gaming evening with the warlords and Sasuke either always winning or losing? Idc which game 😘😘😘 i love u

@colivara The possibilities for this tickled me. I have a mind for a certain game that was driving my family a little mad this last holiday season. I hope you enjoy my little musing. 

---

Writer: In a wormhole far far away... oh no sorry hang on a minute I'm getting my tales messed up with some other long popular saga. Clears throat. That’s better, now where was I? Oh yes. 

---

Azuchi castle had been a hive of activity all day. News travelled fast around the servants that they were to play host to some visiting warlords. No one had expected it to be these warlords though.

“I fail to see the benefit to being here.” Shingen muttered as he pushed around a cube of bean jelly on his plate.

“I agree.” Agreed Yukimura who was sitting next to him in the audience chamber.

“Feel free to leave at any point.” Ieyasu wasn’t exactly pleased to see the Tiger of Kai or his little puppy. In fact, he was practically bristling. 

“I think I might stay here forever.” Shingen heard the young warlords remark and decided to meet it with a teasing joke. He made a show of popping the sweet bean jelly into his mouth smiling as he looked over at the enemy.

“Over my dead body.” Hideyoshi called out. He was even less pleased. The presence of so many of the enemy in one place was one thing, but they were inside the castle right now. Lord Nobunaga could be in danger.

“That can be arranged.” Kenshin’s icy tone cut through the already tense atmosphere. his hand twitching on the hilt of his blade.

Nobunaga and Mitsuhide were sipping sake watching the verbal tennis match unfold. Neither said anything to anyone else except occasionally to each other. Masamune who had been helping the staff in the kitchen arrived at this point with a platter of food. Mitsunari had his nose in a book sitting like a rather cute, all be it oblivious, statue by Ieyasu.

“Lord Kenshin!...”  Sasuke called out putting himself in front of the blade happy warlord halting his advance. “My Lords, I apologise for my late arrival. I see you were able to remain entertained.”

“That is one way to put it.” Yukimura crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall.

“I suppose there is a reason you called us all here ninja?” Nobunaga addressed the one that was responsible for that note on his desk resulting in this pantomime in his castle.

“Yes. I was talking to Mc and we both discovered that we were part of extracurricular games groups in school.”

“Extra Kur-ick-u-er?” Mitsunari attempted to repeat the new foreign-sounding word. Ieyasu had the strategists glasses in his hand so Mitsunari looked a little like he was coming around from a trance as he adjusted to the world.

“Sounds interesting.” Masa joined the group smiling.

“Sounds like an illness.” Ieyasu stated flatly.

“Oh if it’s an ailment Lord Ieyasu is sure to find a cure. He is a very gifted healer.”

“Mitsunari?”

“Yes, Lord Ieyasu?” 

“Shut up.”

---

After a short while of explaining things to the gathered warlords, and dropping in the fact that Mc looked really happy with the idea that they were all going to have a games night together. All of the warlords in assembly suddenly became a lot calmer and decided to choose a game they liked the look of.

Sasuke had spent a great deal of time working with Mc to try to recreate at least a few games. It had been fun sourcing the materials and then attempting to make everything as close as they could to the modern versions.

There was Battleships which was left resembling the original game. The only difference was the ships. The ships they were using were modelled on Pirate and the Portuguese trade ships. 

Monopoly was created and adjusted. The areas were names of domains, there were tea houses instead of hotels. Community chest cards became cards from the Emporer and the cards of Chance became fate and fortune cards. The figures were a little different too there was the usual dog, cat and boat. But the rest were a ground spike, a katana, a horse, a cooking pot and a Ladle. The money was different coloured dried beans.

Cluedo was changed so it became rooms around the castle. The players were just coloured figures. The weapons had minor tweaks for historical understanding but was otherwise left.

And there was one surprise finishing game that was perhaps the easiest to recreate. Pictionary.

Sasuke made his way around each group of warlords explained the rules and how to play each game and then joined them for a few games on each.

---

“There is no way you can keep finding them like that!” Yukimura exclaimed as Sasuke once more made a direct hit on one of his boats.

“I’m sorry but the board is basically a grid in a series of rather simple mathematical equations you can...” Sasuke began to explain how it could be done unaware of the glazed over expression Yuki was making trying to keep up with what he was being told.

“Ok ok I get it YOU can do it. why don’t you just move on the next guys huh?” Yuki gave Sasuke a little push as he tried to get him to move. After that, he sat and stared that the board in silence as if trying to figure it out.

---

“How did you managed to buy up all that domain?” Ieyasu asked looking at the three slots that should have been the prime locations that included Mayfair.

“It is luck with the dice and knowledge of what to buy where.” Sasuke pushed his glasses back on his nose as he replied devoid of expression even if his heart felt like it was going wild in his chest speaking to his idol.

“But the rest of the teahouses are all scattered what makes those three up there so important?” Masa looks down at the board a little confused. He understood gaining territory and how it could affect others but this game had no war it was all money... well beans.

“I’m afraid if I explained to greatly I might risk upsetting the balance of the game in the future.” Sasuke looked away from the game as he tried to think how best to continue but his thoughts were interrupted.

“Hey don't just put your hand in the coin purse!” Ieyasu cried out and smacked the back of Masa’s hand as he reached for the coin purse that was acting as the bank that held all the beans.

“What? I passed that space there that means I get 10 beans.” 

“Yes, but you can’t just go helping yourself.” Ieyasu chastized his friend before becoming aware that he had just smacked him over a stupid future game and became uncomfortably embarrassed about it. “I can’t believe you decided to be the Ladle that is such a dumb piece.” 

“Hey, Man don’t underestimate the power of a good ladle.”

---

“Why is there no dungeon on this board?” Kenshin asked as he looked over the rooms once more.

“Probably because the Princess might play it. Do you really expect an Angel like her to walk around a dungeon in a game?” Shingen scoffed as he drank from his sake cup waiting for his turn on the board.

“I don’t see what is wrong with it. Dungeons in Kasugayama are practically guest rooms.” Kenshin said proudly. In his opinion, no other castle could reach the level of his beloved home.

“Funny that’s what Mitsuhide calls ours.” Nobunaga chuckled as he finished moving his figure on the board. “Mitsunari exactly what are you doing?”

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry I was just reading the cards I had closer.” Mitsunari had been leaning over engrossed in reading and rereading the details on each card, nearly missing his turn.

“Well, it’s your turn.”

“Can I make a guess without rolling and moving anywhere? I’m gonna say it was Mitsuhide in the Tenshu with a rifle.” Mitsunari beamed brightly as he made a guess.

“Why exactly am I always the prime suspect?” Mitsuhide asked acting hurt by the accusation. 

“Probably because out of all of us you are the most suspicious.” Hideyoshi replied back as fast as ever. 

“Why Hideyoshi I had no idea you thought so much about me. I’m sorry to inform you though I have plans later this evening so I won’t be available for any little trysts.” Mitsuhide smiled meaningfully in such a way as to purposefully give the wrong impression whilst leaving just enough confusion so he could innocently wriggle free of any repercussions.

“Well, tha- what tryst!?” Hideyoshi blushed furiously as he glared at the castle kitsune.

---

Games night was a success. well, a success in the sense that both sets of enemy warlords had gathered and remained in the same room as each other without it resulting in a bloodbath.

“So who wins?” Masa called out to Sasuke as all the games came to an end.

“Wins?” Sasuke felt a little like he had missed part of a conversation. In the future, they had very different ideas about games. 

That wasn't to say people didn’t win or lose but it was not something that typically came to the end of the night where you declared an overall winner in order to prevent a very real declaration of war.

“Yeah, there has to be a winner or else what is the point?” Masa nodded and several of the other warlords agreed.

“Well, I do have one final game.” Sasuke picked up the last box of games. “What you do is...”

---

Mc came into the audience chamber after the warlords had all made their way to rooms for the night in the castle. Breakfast in the morning was going to be fun. Moving to Sasuke’s side she started to gather the various parts to games and returned them to the boxes.

Sasuke was standing there hardly moving at all. for a second or two Mc considered the possibility that he had somehow fallen asleep whilst standing. But she could see him blinking behind his glasses. 

“Er... Sasuke?”

“Oh! Mc.” Sasuke blinked several times as if trying to regain focus on her.

“Are you ok?” Mc asked still a little concerned for her friend.

“Yes yes, I’m fine. Thanks for helping with the cleanup.”

“No problem. So how did it go? Did you win any of the games?” She happily asked as she stacked the boxes at the side of the room out of the way.

“Oh erm no not exactly.”

“Oh... that’s a shame.” Mc looked as if she was thinking about something before continuing. “Still, I know how competitive the guys can get so its probably really difficult to win against them even with brand new games. Better luck next time huh?” Sasuke silently nodded he wasn’t trying to ignore her he was just preoccupied right now. “I’m going to go to the kitchen and see if there is some onigiri or something are you coming?” Mc walked to the door and stopped waiting for his reply.

“Yes. I’ll be there in a minute.” Satisfied with that she left in search of food.

---

It was during clean up that Sasuke had made a discovery. In his hands, he currently held not an autograph but a drawing made by his idol. it had missed being torn up after that argument broke out about it looking nothing like what it was supposed to be. 

He might not have “won” any of the games showcased tonight but at this moment in time, Sasuke felt like he was holding in his hand the grand prize of the evening.

---

[kalachand97-blog]

New Post has been published on Globeinfrom

New Post has been published on https://globeinform.com/fantastic-mario-run-hits-android-rolls-out-version-two-on-ios/

Fantastic Mario Run hits Android, rolls out version two on iOS

Super Mario Run hit Android a day early. At the beginning anticipated nowadays, March 23, per Nintendo’s earlier statement, the game arrived on the Google Play Store the day before today as a substitute, along side an replace on iOS. The iOS one of a kind ran for 3 months, and brought the app over 78 million downloads, the gaming organization stated during its earnings in January.

Of these gamers, extra than five percent bought the sport, bringing in $53 million in sales for the identity. That dollar quantity is fairly high, given the $10 purchase price with a view to liberating the whole version. And it achieved better than analysts had anticipated given its top greenback charge point – many video games that simplest charge a dollar or two for in-recreation items convert less than five percent in their customers.

However Nintendo had was hoping for conversions within the double digits, Leader Executive Tatsumi Kimishima had said.

Now on Android, it’s exciting to notice that Nintendo didn’t attempt to tweak the sport’s sales version. It’s still a loose down load which requires a one-time in-app buy of $10 to release the stages beyond worlds 1-four.

But, the most wonderful a part of the replace to version 2.0 on iOS is that Nintendo has made more of the game loose to play, the App Shop description says. Now, if users complete certainly one of Bowser’s challenges, they could release the formerly locked course 1-4. Plus, in case you clear the courses 1-four, you’ll get more publications to play in Toad Rally.

model 2.0 was simultaneously released to the Apple App Keep when it hit Android. The replace also brings new playable characters, which include exceptional colorings of Yoshi. Plus, you may play Toad Rally with a Yoshi of a selected color to get greater Toads of that coloration. And the sport is including new homes, making it less difficult to get Rally Tickets in the Bonus recreation Residence, and altered the ease of play in a few regions, among other tweaks.

However, it’ll be interesting to peer how High-quality Mario Run’s Android release impacts Nintendo’s revenues – especially given that iOS customers tend to spend more money on video games and in-app purchases than those on Android.

On the time of its launch, there has been pent-up demand for Great Mario on mobile, that is what allowed the app to surge to the pinnacle of the App Store after its release, earning 5 million downloads on its first-day stay. That call for inside the marketplace has been at the least partly satiated now, and plenty of normal gamers located they completed Mario in a rely of days on.

However, with the replace, Mario has again gotten a little pop on iOS. The app is now the #nine unfastened normal app on the App Keep as of this morning, up from #forty nine over the weekend.

Amazing Mario 3-d International

First-rate Mario 3-D Global, developed and posted by using Nintendo for the WiiU console, is the state-of-the-art platformer in the massive and storied Mario Brothers franchise. 3-d World, the 6th three-D incarnation of the collection (seventh in case you be counted First-rate Mario sixty-four DS), liberally borrows different mechanics from past Mario titles and combines them into a game that now not handiest feels straight away acquainted and fresh in same components, But is arguably the first-class Mario game in latest reminiscence. It’s far certainly the satisfactory Mario game available for the WiiU right now.

That’s not to say that the other WiiU Mario identify to be had, New Extraordinary Mario Brothers U, is a awful recreation. The enduring plumbers have enjoyed a prominent role within the latest second platforming renaissance thanks to the games bearing the ‘New’ Incredible Mario Brothers moniker, and NSMBU is a notable example of the distinction that has fueled that revitalization. But it has been a while for the reason that Italian duo have taken part in a full 3-d adventure on our tv displays, well given that 2010′s Superb Mario Galaxy 2 to be specific, and It’s miles exciting to look how Team Mario have taken what they have found out in sharpening up the titular moustachioed hero’s ‘New’ second adventures, and how they have applied that know-how to a stunning, excessive definition, three-dimensional Mario Global.

Just like the New Exquisite Mario Brothers games, three-D International feels new, But has an undeniable vintage college experience as properly. In reality, it’s probably greater of a religious successor to Excellent Mario sixty-four or the High-quality Nintendo’s Awesome Mario Global than It’s far a follow-up to the more recent three-D adventures on the Wii. Nintendo keeps things from feeling rehashed But, by means of introducing new mechanics and strength-use for every vintage trope they pull out. A POW block in a darkish vicinity will no longer handiest knock out close by enemies, it’ll additionally light up the surrounding place for a moment. The ever-present Hearth Flower nevertheless helps you to throw fireballs, However now you can sometimes ricochet them around corners at unsuspecting enemies earlier than they are able to spot you.

Altogether new power-u.S.hold matters thrilling as well. The new bell will remodel you into Cat Fit Mario, giving you a scratch and a jumping dive assault, as well as the power to climb a honest distance up partitions. The double cherries have a multiple guy effect, adding any other Mario by using your face. Clutch some in a row and you may have a Pikmin-like mob of pink general clad protagonists walking around on display.

Even degree layout has a robust vintage faculty/new school dichotomy in Outstanding Mario 3D Global. Even as a 3D sport, the degrees employ several second sensibilities, lending a tight, targeted sense to the gameplay. Ranges are roughly linear and there is now not quite a few exploration to do, which is ideal due to the fact the Tiers are timed. The clock starts going for walks from the moment you drop in, until you bounce onto the flag pole At the stop of the extent (every other old college Mario trope). tiers are navigated via an Overworld map (but any other antique school Mario tool), that players are unfastened to discover for added coins and secrets and techniques as properly. And While a number of the environs and enemies will look familiar, On the identical time they have never seemed as accurate. Seeing some of those characters and beautiful, brightly coloured settings in full excessive definition is a actual treat.

three-D Global capabilities as much as 4-player simultaneous co-op, much like The brand new High-quality Mario Brothers series, allowing gamers to pick out to play as Mario, Luigi, Princess Peach or Toad. there may be a little old faculty jumbled together here as nicely because each character performs a touch in another way, similar to the manner they played inside the Nintendo Entertainment Gadget identify Great Mario Brothers 2. Mario is common all round. Luigi jumps a bit better and falls a little slower, However takes barely longer to get up to complete strolling velocity. Princess Peach can float for a couple seconds At the same time as jumping, But is not as speedy as the other games. Toad runs the fastest, But can not leap quite as high and falls faster too. While multiplayer is strictly offline, depending for your online settings, your Overworld map can be populated with Mii ghosts bearing messages published by means of different games, and you could even run Tiers along Mii ghosts representing other gamers. Maintaining an eye fixed on them can from time to time be the difference between locating a stamp (the sport’s new collectable) or all of the stars in a level, and coming away empty handed.

[viewfromthedrumstool]

View From The Drum Stool #38

Originally posted on MikeDolbear.com, 15/12/16

Good evening all and thanks for joining me for the final instalment of VFTDS in 2016.

It’s December so soon but although there are still two weeks until Christmas the house already smells like sprouts and Norman the Postman says his gammy back is playing up a treat. As per tradition the first card of the year came from Sister Ruth addressed to 'Reverend Margaret Jarman', a nun who hasn’t lived at this address for SEVENTEEN YEARS. I doubt she reads drum blogs but if you’re out there Sister Ruth please include a return address...

↑ Margaret I have some post for you

Down to business and I’m glad to report it’s been another busy month behind the tubs. First up myself and the Willie J Healey band headed out for a trio of shows in London, Manchester and Glasgow. For the latter two, we were main support to Spanish all-girl indie-rock four-piece Hinds. The girls are friendly and we’re grateful to be playing in the kinds of venues where even the opening acts get their own dressing room! It’s a luxury we don’t take for granted.

↑ Backstage at Academy 2, Manchester

I had my trustee Yamaha Birch Custom (12”, 16”, 24”) kit with me for these shows. The mid-range set has a beautiful kick but I’m not so wild for the toms which can be a little unstable on the tuning front.

(Speaking of which does anybody else suffer an addiction to tuning? Sometimes when I'm in a drum shop I wait until the staff have their backs turned, pull a drum key from my pocket - the little one on your jeans; that’s what it was designed for - and tweak the lugs on the closest head at hand. It’s a compulsion - perhaps I’m destined to be a drum tech?)

I have clear Emperors on the toms at the moment and use a little dampening to keep them dry. Moon gels are okay but does anyone else notice they can buzz sometimes? A particular nuisance for recording. My favourite method, which I stole from those 70s Gadd videos is a liberal length of gaffa laid across both head and hoop. I like the woven type - the best gaffa I've ever encountered was in a club in Berlin two years back. I forget the brand though, I didn’t have a hand free to write it down.

But the gigs are good and the FOH love the drum set in both venues - if they're happy out front then so am I.

↑ 24 inches of succulent thump

En route to Glasgow we pull in at Villa Express just off the M55 for a car park meet with ‘joy69’ - which turns out to be a guy called Phil. Bassist Harry (the last time we heard from whom was stuck in Lucky Coin at Leigh Delamere services) is purchasing a bass guitar. Such random meets to buy gear are always peculiar and I’m sure many out there have amusing tales of the unexpected and strange. (Remind me to tell you about the time I went to a mans house to purchase a snare drum case only for his wife to stroll naked and brazen out of the bathroom. She feigned it was an accident but I wasn’t convinced.) Phil (thankfully fully-clothed) rolls into the car park in his 99-plate Ford Escort with the windows down, his frosty white mane fluttering in the wind and a chilling likeness to a well-known now-deceased prison-dodging children's entertainer. But he's an upright chap happy enough to part ways with the Fender Jazz bass which he "only bought to play the Pink Panther on anyway"...

↑ Hinds from above

Elsewhere this month I was kindly invited to play with Nick Cope to celebrate the launch of his latest album ‘A Round of Applause For The Dinosaurs’ with a couple of gigs one Saturday morning at the famed Holywell Music Room in Oxford. The recording of the album I touched on a couple of months back and it features a combination of kit playing and percussion. It was interesting to recreate live, and for the most part I attempt my finest knock-off Jay Bellerose with stick in one hand and shakers in the other.

The venue being as old as it is - built in 1748 and said to be the first purpose-built music room in Europe no less - meant that it was a relic of times pre-PA and as such the lively acoustics were a challenge. I think it’s a good thing to consider the space that you’re playing in and not simply rely on the sound engineer to deal with any issues and such a venue made clear the need for control in your playing.

But the gigs went smoothly and the very young crowd, a little unsteady on their infantile legs and outspoken with their opinions, reminded me somewhat of the Saturday-night-Manchester crowd from the week before...

In final BIG news this month I’m proud to announce a new arrival to the Monaghan household. At thirty inches and a whopping 110 pounds she was a difficult delivery (Norman the Postie said his back may never recover…) but she’s here now and doing well, if a little loud. Yep, I got me a Christmas gong (or possibly a tam-tam, I still haven't worked out the difference). I think I’ll call her Maggie in honour of the Reverend Jarman.

↑ The familiar panorama driving north that some readers may recognise

Alas so soon 2016 is very nearly at an end and it only remains for me to bid you all the best for the festive season and beyond.

I recently stumbled upon S2E7 of Mike's Web Show in which Ian Thomas eloquently credits Mike for his role in UK drum world. Indeed we’re very lucky to have such a strong drumming community here in the UK and I’ve noticed it’s something that other instrumentalists don't have. So thanks to Mike for keeping the wheels turning in 2016 and long may we celebrate one another’s successes.

Have a wonderful Christmas. May your tempos be peppy and your gigs plentiful...

See you on the other side,

Mike