#and like. I’ve done everything I can do within the internship program. there’s nothing left for me

[heelhausen]

I just keep completely breaking down in tears while in the process of packing up to move home so uh. I’m doing great

[clouditae]

First Love | 17

Yoongi x reader | 18+ | college au | tattoo artist au | angst | fluff | smut | swearing 

Word: 2.9k

You first saw him in the multi-purpose room. Later learn his name, and on your third year, as he becomes your neighbor, you discover his lifestyle. Knowing your crush on him was nothing but that, you wanted to find the courage to look for love. Asking your friend for help, you’re pointed in the direction of the expert. Your neighbor, Min Yoongi

Chapter Index

“I still can’t believe this is our last year,” Ari says, heaving her final luggage out of her trunk. “Finally,” she mutters, closing the trunk and pulling out the handle from its secure place. She looks to you and grins. “Let’s unpack.” The two of you make your way towards the building where your new room awaits. 

You haven’t seen Ari since she finished her finals earlier than you. Helping her pack her belongings and putting it in her car, she left for the summer. Through calls and texts she told you she spent half her summer with her family and the other half with Hoseok. Now that you finally get to see her again, you immediately notice how short her hair is. Her hair was past her shoulders when she left just a few months ago, and now it’s barely touching her shoulders. Someone as beautiful as Ari can pull anything off it seems. 

As the two of you make your way towards the dorm building, you head up the same set of stairs that you’ve been taking since you moved into the dorms three years ago. This time, thankfully, Ari let you pick where to live, and you chose the second floor closer to the exit door where you can easily leave if you’re in a hurry. And you’re nowhere near Yoongi. He’s always stayed on the third floor, so you took that chance to pick the second floor and the side wing where you will never see him unless you’re forced to.

When you reach the second floor, Ari presses her ID to the scanner, hearing a click and pulls the door open for you. As you enter the building, a group of people are chatting at the far end of the hallway, several bags of what looks to be trash on the floor. Your guess is they finished packing. You wish you were them right now instead of going up and down the stairs. Sadly it’s not and as you pass the first five doors, you reach your room. 

Since you were last here, everyone had to use their key to get inside their dorm, but over the summer the dorms were updated and now you use your IDs to get inside your rooms. Pressing your ID to the scanner, you wait for the door to slowly unlock before you enter your messy room. Boxes and luggage everywhere. 

“Home sweet home,” Ari sighs, entering the room after you and heading for her bed to toss her suitcase along with the rest of the pile. Just like the last dorm, everything is basically the same. One bed next to the door, a desk at the end of the bed with another bed on the other side of the desk, and the second desk between said furniture and the sink. The only difference is while your bed was to your right in your old room, the bed is now to your left with the mirror closets and bathroom to the right. “I wonder what room Hoseok is in. Maybe the same as last semester?” Ari questions, beginning her long journey of unpacking. 

“He hasn’t told you yet?” you ask her, placing your items on your bed to start your unpacking. 

“Just like you, Hoseok never picks the room,” Ari laughs, creating a pile of her shirts and pants on the bed as she pulls out a light pink top, folding it neatly and puts it at the top of her stack. 

You hum in response, spending the rest of the time unpacking and helping Ari decorate the room a bit. By the time the two of you finished, Ari’s phone chimes, her music fading and screen lighting up for a brief second. You watch as she hangs the final strand of hanging lights to the hook on the wall before jumping off her bed and grabbing her phone off her desk. She reads the message. 

“Seems like Hoseok is done packing and wants to see our room,” she tells you, typing away on her phone. “I’ll have him meet me by the stairs on this floor.” She locks her screen and looks to you. “See you in a bit.” You follow her towards the door, watching her open it as the door across from yours opens as well. As the door opens fully you can see two figures exiting their room. One figure you wish to never see again, but the world won’t give you that. “Hoseok?” Ari says in complete shock. 

He looks up to lock eyes with his girlfriend. “Hey,” he laughs. “What a coincidence.” 

“Yeah. It’s really weird,” Ari chuckles, but you can feel the discomfort in her tone as she continues her talk with Hoseok. 

Their conversation dies out as your eyes stick to him like glue. You haven’t seen him in months, but you can see the little details on what’s changed with him. He has an undercut, his hair brushing along the tips of his ears and brows. His face looks more fuller and on his neck, just sticking out from under his black t-shirt is ink. He has a new tattoo–you wonder if it’s a part of his sleeve. Your eyes travel back up and you see that he’s staring at you. You’re the first to look away. 

“I’ll see you later,” he tells Hoseok, voice gruff as you hear his footsteps disappear. 

You’ve missed him. You hate the fact that you’ve missed him, but you do. So much that you constantly had to distract yourself over the summer because if you were alone with your thoughts for even one second, your thoughts would travel to him. From his dark eyes, down to the feeling of his hand when he touched you. You hate yourself. 

“So this is your room?” Hoseok asks, bringing you out of your thoughts. You look towards him, watching as he steps closer to Ari, wrapping his arms around her to hug her, but to mainly see inside your room. 

You chuckle, “Would you like to come in?”

He grins, glancing your way as he releases Ari and opens his arms for you to walk into. He wraps his arms around you as he hugs you tightly. “I’ve missed you, my second best friend.” 

Rubbing his back, you giggle, “Me too.” Releasing your grip from one another, you step aside for Hoseok to enter your room and for Ari to close the door behind the three of you. “How was your vacation?” 

“Amazing. Spent a lot of time with my love and my family. We went to Disneyland.” His focus is on the lights draped against the wall. “I should do this, but I don’t think Yoongi would like it,” he sighs, shaking his head. 

“You went to Disneyland? Was it fun?” you ask him as he takes a seat on Ari’s bed. 

“Hell yeah!” He snaps his fingers in realization. “That reminds me–I got you something while we were there.” Hopping off the bed, Hoseok jogs towards the door. “Be right back,” he calls, opening the door and exiting the room. 

“Are you okay?” Ari asks.

You look to her and smile the best you can. “What luck.” 

“I didn’t know they would be across from us,” she explains, looking at you with a worried look.

You shake your head. “I know,” you mumble and let out a sigh. “At least we won’t be hearing him when he’s alone with a girl,” you chuckle, but you only feel a sting in your chest. 

Why couldn’t you be far away from him? Why is he always right there but never within your reach?

A knock comes at the door. Ari walks over to it and opens the door to reveal Hoseok standing on the other side with a sheepish smile on his face. “I left my ID and my phone inside.”

You laugh loudly, remembering the first day you met him a year ago.

Ari and Hoseok left about an hour ago, the two deciding to go out for dinner. You are currently waiting for Hanbin to come pick you up for your own dinner date he has planned for the two of you. As you double check to make sure your attempt at doing makeup looks good enough, your phone rings, vibrating loudly on your desk. 

Walking over to it from your little make up station at the sink, you see an unfamiliar number. You frown, picking up the phone and pressing the answer button, bringing it to your ear. “Hello?”

“Hello,” the disembodied voice begins, her tone light and customer service like, “I’m looking for Y/N. Is she available?” 

You take a seat at your desk. “This is her,” you say, glancing at the clock on your desk. Hanbin should be here in twenty minutes. 

“Hello, Y/N, my name is Allison from Sun’s Crossing. I’m calling to let you know you’ve been selected to join the summer internship program next year,” she informs you. She continues to talk, but you can’t hear anything besides the rapid beating of your heart. You got accepted. You’re going to be an intern for Sun’s Crossing in New York. 

At the beginning of summer, you confessed to Hanbin about wanting to apply to be an intern but you felt as if you didn’t have enough to catch any company’s attention. Hanbin saw otherwise and pestered you for days to apply for a few internships “because you’re going to get into several and you gotta be prepared to pick the best one” as he put it. You were reluctant to apply because that would mean a year of not being with him–being separated, but that didn’t stop him from telling you to apply. He planned on taking an internship as well, but in California. The two of you will still be together and after it’s all over you two will be working your dream jobs and living in a nice little apartment. It gave you hope, and now that hope is coming true. 

“Hello? Y/N?”

“I-I’m here,” you tell her, shaking your head of all thoughts of the dream coming true. “Can you repeat that?”

The woman chuckles on the other end. “We will be sending you more information on the internship and what is to be expected through email in the upcoming months. Congratulations again.” 

“Thank you so much–goodbye,” you rush, hanging up the phone. You immediately start looking for Hanbin’s number when a knock interrupts your search. Placing your phone on the desk, you get up from your seat and make your way towards the door. When you turn the handle and pull, Hanbin stands on the other side panting. “Hanbin–”

“I got in,” he interrupts. He smiles widely as he repeats, “I got in, Y/N.” 

You smile back. “I got in, too. We did it.” You watch as his eyes go wide before he rushes towards you, lifting you into the air as you giggle and the door closes. 

When the door closes, everything happens rather quickly. A simple congratulations kiss ends up being more than that. Now your nails are digging into Hanbin’s bare back as he thrusts into you, him holding your complete weight as your back hits the door every now and then. You choke back a moan as he hits the right spot, your head hitting the door rather loudly as you feel your orgasm get closer. 

“I’m close,” you rush in a whisper. You’ll never understand Hanbin’s strength, but he picks up his speed and thrusts into you faster and harder. He sends you over the edge before you could even cry a word. You moan lowly into his shoulder as he rides you out, his own euphoria coming soon after. 

He holds you as the two of you pant heavily. “So much for a nice dinner,” he chuckles, the both of you leaning back to lock eyes. “You in the mood to just grab a burger? I’m guessing the restaurants are closing now.” 

You let out an exhausted laugh. “Yeah.” He sets you down slowly, holding onto your waist as you get the feeling back in your legs before the two of you clean up, get dressed and head out for a very late dinner. 

“Ugh,” Ari groans, running a hand through her short hair in frustration. “I’m done with school.”

“It’s barely the first day,” Hoseok states, taking a fry and popping it into his mouth. “You can’t be done when all we’ve had are introductions and go over the syllabus.” 

“Because just listening to them talk about the syllabus and hearing all these assignments that are coming up too fast is already stressing me out. I just want to graduate already and be a forensic linguist!” She tosses her hands up in the air in defeat.

You shake your head. “We’re almost done. This is our last school year and then we’re off doing what we do best.” 

“Yeah,” Hoseok agrees, placing his hand on his girlfriend’s back and rubbing it soothingly. “You’ll be yelling ”objection“ and I’ll be dancing in court to prove your point.” Ari laughs at his statement, earning a small relief from Hoseok as he takes another bite. It’s amazing how he knows her like the back of his own hand. 

“We’re almost done,” she repeats, sitting up straight and finally digging into her plate of Chinese food.

After a few minutes go by of random conversations, Ari looks to you with curious eyes. She smirks. “Have you two said the three words yet?”

You almost choke on your chicken as you roughly swallow the chewed pieces. “Three words?”

“I love you,” Hoseok chimes, twisting the cap to your water bottle off and handing it to you. 

You gratefully take the bottle and chug the water to wash down whatever got caught in your throat. “I haven’t,” you confess, twisting the cap back on. 

“Do you feel like you’re ready for it?” Ari questions, taking another bite out of her food acting as if you weren’t just choking on your food because of her. “Has he said it?”

You shake your head. “No he hasn’t said it yet.”

“But do you feel like you’re ready?” It’s Hoseok’s turn to ask, obviously interested in your unknown love life. 

You’re quiet for a moment, thinking. Are you ready to say those words? You do have feelings for him, and it is something you’ve never felt before. So, are you ready to be the first one to say it? Are you ready to say those three words that can change someone’s life?

It’s scary–it really is, but–

“Yeah, I think I am ready,” you tell them, feeling your heart race. 

The day goes on, the professors you meet today do the bare minimum. No one is ready to start the new semester with a lecture or homework just yet. So, as your final class of the day ends, you pack up your belongings and put them in your backpack. Several students are already saying goodbye to one another after having known each other for a while or just meeting now. 

With everything put away, you slip on your backpack and make your way out of the room, meeting the warm, night sky. You follow a group of people making their way towards the bus stop. A few other classes have just finished as groups of people leave different rooms, all making their way in different directions. As you make your way across campus, there are a few students still scattered across the grounds, several students sitting at the tables close to the food court. Instead of following the group up towards the first bus stop close to the library, you head down towards the second bus stop closer to the Student Union building.

By the time you get to the second stop, you notice the shuttle’s back lights turning on. You speed walk towards the vehicle, just making it in time as the driver closes the doors. Showing your ID, you make your way towards an empty spot in the middle, taking the window seat. Pulling out your earphones from your backpack, you plug it into your phone and place the buds in your ears. As a song plays, you take in a deep breath. The conversation you had earlier with Ari and Hoseok comes to mind. 

You’ll see him tomorrow during your small break between classes, and during that break you’ll tell him. Sure it’s not romantic or anything, but if you feel it, you’re supposed to just go for it right? You smack your palms against your warming cheeks. You’re nervous, but you can do it. 

I can do it. 

The following day you go through the usual introductions to the class, go over the syllabus, and leave for the day. As time gets closer and closer to you meeting Hanbin for lunch, your heart races and your nerves are on edge. When your professor says his goodbyes, you put your notebook and pencil away, and follow the group out the room. Checking your phone to make sure there were no other texts sent from him, you make your way towards the meeting spot where Hanbin should be waiting with your order from the Greek stand. 

When you reach the outdoor seating area, your eyes scan the umbrella area, looking for a familiar face. Before you can unlock your phone and begin searching for your boyfriend’s contact name, you can hear him calling for you. You look around again and find him standing at the far back next to his reserved table. He waves when he notices your eyes are on him. You smile and make your way down the steps and towards him. 

You’re going to do it. 

This is it. 

Tell him.

“Hey,” he says, beaming before leaning down and planting a kiss on your lips. 

Tell him.

“I–” the words catch in your throat.

[rjhpandapaws]

Technical Difficulties

Ch 2: A Change in Luck

Three and a half months in and Daniel was still baffled as to how he had not only managed to land the accounting internship at AME, but keep it given his luck when it came to computers. He was an accountant, he had an understanding of computers; sort of; they just hated him. AME was almost entirely paperless. So given the fact that the intern terminal almost always had problems when he used it and the coffee machine in the break room had decided he was the devil; he was a little surprised he that he had been brought on as well. It wasn’t just computers if he was honest, he just wasn’t very technologically inclined. His phone was an older model, but he understood how it worked for the most part, and it hadn’t crashed yet so he hadn’t bought a new one. The issue was, that as an accountant there was an unspoken expectation that he understood computers. He didn’t. He could use the internet and more or less guess his way around a basic accounting program, but he had gone into this for the math. Given that AME was a science and technologies company, and Silas wrote all of their programs, the accounting software was not anything close to basic. Daniel felt like he was on the verge of drowning.

He honestly thought he was going to be let go within his first week after what happened with the coffee machine. Richard had said that Silas would be up to fix it when he had the time, and then recommended a cafe close to the office. He had treated it like something that happened every day. Silas had been thoroughly entertained. When the terminal had crashed on his shift the first time, he had thought that would be it. He was definitely done for this time. Richard had explained that three different people used the terminal and it was bound to happen eventually. Daniel had just been unlucky. Silas was up within the hour to fix the issue. He had been annoyed, more at the interruption than at Daniel it seemed. In the coming weeks he became familiar with the head of the IT department. He would email or call down whenever there was an issue that he couldn’t solve on his own. Silas would either walk him through it if it was an easy fix, or come up to fix it if it was a bigger issue. He always seemed a little frustrated, and Daniel always felt guilty even though he knew Silas wasn’t necessarily upset with him.

This was it, today was the day he would finally lose his internship. All he had done was log into the terminal then the screen went blue and it made a digital screech that was nearly painful. He might not have been the greatest when it came to computers, or even good really, but they knew they weren’t supposed to make that kind of noise. He had barely clocked in and it was already time to call Silas. He picked up his phone and dialed the extension for the labs since that’s where he normally was in the morning. He hoped that he wouldn’t wake him this time, Silas didn’t take too kindly to that. “You got Silas.” Came through after two or maybe three rings. “It’s Daniel.” He replied meekly and a quiet but sharp sigh came from the other end of the call. He flinched but continued, “The intern terminal blue screened and it’s making a god awful noise that I can’t get to stop.” Daniel heard something get set down, “I’ll be up in a few Daniel.” Silas hung up and Daniel looked back at the computer. He didn’t want to make things any worse so he made his way to the elevators. Maybe if he put some distance between himself and it the thing might decide to behave. He knew that wasn’t how computers worked, but he could hope. It was probably his last day here anyway, it wasn’t like things could get any worse.

Should he have stayed at the desk? Gotten his things together maybe? There was no way he was going to be keeping the internship after this. Richard had been understanding so far, but even he had to have his limits. Speaking of limits, Silas was probably at his when it came to Daniel. The elevator chimed and brought him out of his head. Silas stepped out of the elevator pushing a cart in front of him. When he saw Daniel he gave a friendly smile. He was definitely getting terminated. “Hey Daniel.” He greeted lightly, “Wanna take me to the problem child? I’ll see if I can fix it up here without having to take it apart, then you’ll be good to go. No worries, okay?” He was definitely all worries at the moment, but he found himself agreeing anyway. “Alright.” He said and tried his best to keep those same worries out of his voice, “I know I break things pretty badly a lot of the time, so I’m sorry about that.” “I don’t think this one is your fault.” Silas said as he walked with Daniel back to the bullpen, “You aren’t the only one that uses that terminal. You were just unlucky today. Just like with the coffee machine.” Daniel let out an embarrassed laugh. That had been one of his worst first impressions yet, “Oh god, don’t remind me.”

“We had a good laugh about it though.” Silas said and Daniel could hear the smile in his voice. When they got back to what was his desk in the morning there was white writing on the deep blue screen. That had not been there when he had left and he had no idea what it meant. He was relatively sure that it wasn’t anything good though. He was definitely going to lose this internship before the day was out. He was certain of that now. It had been good while it lasted, but it was time to concede that a tech company was not the place for him. “The writing wasn’t there when I left.” Daniel was on the verge of panicking again, “That’s pretty bad isn’t it?” He heard Silas sigh. It was that same annoyed sharp sound from the phone and Daniel withered a little. He was done for, “Yeah. I’m going to have to take it apart and see what the issue is.” He moved to start disconnecting the terminal from the monitor and the wall, “”It’s gonna take me a few days probably. Is there anything you can do here while the computer is down?” Get fired, he thought bitterly. “Paperwork I suppose.” He said as he moved out of Silas’s way, “I’d have to see if there is anything backed up. If not there won’t be anything for the interns to do.”

“How would you like to learn about computers?” Silas asked once he finished situating the computer on the cart and stood, “If Richard says it’s okay of course.” “That sounds interesting.” Daniel liked the idea, but he was wary. It wasn’t like this could make him any worse with computers, “Maybe I won’t have as many issues with them then.” That was of course operating under the assumption that he hadn’t lost the internship. “Just talk to Richard.” He said as he pulled the cart away from the desk. “Then if you’re able to, come down to floor six. I might have this taken apart by then, so I’ll see you in a bit.” Daniel nodded absently. Talking to Richard was the thing that he was dreading the most. His luck, if it could be called that, with him had to be running out by now. He had unintentionally messed so many things up by now that he had to be on thin ice. People were only so forgiving. This was a big company and there was no doubt that they could find someone better. He was still confused as to why Richard had picked him at all. He took a deep breath to find something that could pass as collected if he tried hard enough, and made his way to Richard’s office. This was the moment of truth. He would either be packing his things or going down to see Silas.

He hesitated outside of the door. Was he was ready for this? Richard was overly rational to the point of being a little too blunt. Did he want to face that on top of the possibility of losing his internship? When it came down to it, did he really have a choice? He made a last ditch effort to compose himself and then knocked. “Come in.” Richard said after a moment. Daniel opened the door and stepped inside, there was nothing else he could do. He closed it quietly behind him. Richard looked up and several things passed through his eyes though his expression was still carefully neutral. The concern that came to rest in his eyes didn’t do anything to help his anxiety. If anything, see it so blatantly made things worse. “Daniel is everything okay?” Richard asked as he set aside what he was working on. He leaned back against the office door and then the floodgates opened. “I didn’t mean to. I logged in then it went blue - and - and it started screaming.” Daniel was distantly aware that he was in tears and that it wasn’t professional to cry in front of your boss. He liked this place though and he wasn’t ready to lose the internship, “I called Silas and he said he could probably fix it. I don’t know what I did to it, but please don’t fire me.” “Hey, breathe.” Richard said with a gentle sternness to his voice, “Computers break all of the time. It’s nothing to get fired over Daniel.”

Daniel nodded and scrambled to get himself together, “I’ve just - it’s - everything I touch here seems to break.” ���That’s how technology is sometimes.” Richard replied in that same tone, it was comforting, “It breaks. That computer was giving us trouble for a while even before you were brought on. It would be unfair to fire you just because you happened to be the one who was logged in when it decided to finally quit.” Daniel nodded and wiped his eyes with the sleeves of his sweater. It was a bad habit that he still carried with him from when he was a kid, “Is there anything I can do until it’s back up?” “The paperwork is all caught up. Echo finished the last of it yesterday.” He said, “So the day is yours. If you want to head home and decompress I don’t blame you.” Richard leaned onto his desk, “You’re good at what you do Daniel. So don’t worry, alright?” “Right.” Daniel agreed, “Okay. I’m sorry about... this.” “You’re alright Daniel. Take tomorrow as well since there’s nothing to do until the computer is back up.” His panic came back almost full force at that, “I’ll let the other interns know too. Maybe you guys could do something together.”  Daniel flinched internally at that idea, “Maybe.”

He stopped on his way to the elevators to clock out. He should have been relieved; but what he was feeling in the wake of his panic attack was the emotional equivalent of tv static. Learning what was wrong with the computer would help him to feel less guilty. He just wasn’t sure he was ready to spend who knows how long around another person. It would be rude to leave him hanging though, so with a deep breath he hit the call button. He was blissfully alone on his ride down to the sixth floor. Daniel hadn’t really interacted with his coworkers, even the ones in his department, so he was glad for the empty elevator. His luck had made him rather familiar with the IT department. Namely Silas and Josh; he didn’t know who the two lab techs were and the thought of meeting one or both of them made his stomach turn unpleasantly. Maybe spending the rest of the day in the lab wasn’t the best Idea. Daniel shook that thought away as the elevator doors opened. He was met with the sudden sound of loud techno metal music. Something he hadn’t been ready for, but wasn’t all that surprised to learn that Silas listened to. He was leaned against a table with what Daniel assumed were computer parts scattered over it and he was bobbing his head to the music as he looked over something on the tablet he was holding.

Silas looked like he was about to jump out of his skin when Daniel approached. “Holy fuck.” He breathed, then continued once he had collected himself, “I was busy. I didn’t hear you come in, sorry about that.” “Sorry for scaring you.” He replied as he looked over the table. The sudden silence was almost jarring when Silas finally paused the music, “What were you working on?” “Product specs.” Silas replied, and he looked excited if Daniel had to pick a word, “I can’t show you unfortunately because it’s got private information.” He had said it with a shrug but almost sounded disappointed, “I figured I could get more work done while I waited. Your department is all caught up?” Daniel gave a nod as he came to lean against the table beside Silas, “Yesterday’s intern apparently did the last of it. So I’m free until the computer is back to normal.” Silas glanced at the screen that was at the end of the table.  There was a loading progress bar on it, though Daniel had no idea what it was for. Silas seemed to understand it just fine though, “We’ve still got about a ten minute wait.” Daniel didn’t know how he gathered that from the progress bar, but he was impressed. Silas continued, “Is there anything you want to do to pass the time?”

“Talk, I guess. There isn’t much else for us to do.” He replied, “Do you enjoy doing all of this? It seems like a lot of work for just four people.” “It’s definitely a lot of work, but it’s worth it.” Silas said with a slight shrug, but the smile from before was back, “As far as liking it, that really depends on the day. The days I’m not able to get anything else done, not so much; but on the days I’m able to get more research done are pretty nice.” “So you don’t like IT work all that much?” He found himself asking, “Why do it then?” “Because I do actually like it, and I’m good at it.” He replied a little dryly, “It’s what got me through college. What about you, why accounting?” “I like working with numbers.” He started, “They are like little puzzles for me to solve, which is fun. It’s simple most days, but technology tends to give me trouble and that makes things difficult.” Silas gave him a friendly smile, “Let’s see about fixing that last part.” He said, “On the days you have time, I can teach you about computers. Then maybe you’ll have better luck with them.” Daniel liked that idea, after all, it wasn’t like his luck could get any worse when it came to computers, “Only if you have the time. You have a lot to do already.” “We can start with this little problem child.” Silas said as he moved to get to work, “You can even come over here to see what I’m working on if you would like.”

Daniel joined him on the fair side of the table. Silas spent hours explaining the parts and what they do to him. He watched Silas slowly slip into his element and Daniel found himself pulled in. He didn’t know what he had done to get Silas to thank him, but apparently rattling things off to Daniel had helped him solve the problem. He even explained the process to Daniel as he fixed it. He asked questions and Silas answered them. Talking to Silas was easy and Daniel found himself hoping they could do this more often. He sat down and rested his head on his arms, content to listen to him for the rest of the night.

[joyful-soul-collector]

I’ve never known a kid like you to stay down for long

By @joyful-soul-collector for @pookiethefrickinbunn

@friendly-neighborhood-exchange

Relationships: Tony & Peter

Characters: Tony, Peter, Friday, Karen

Summary: Peter runs away after his identity is revealed, and is just trying to get by

It took longer than you’d think it would to find a roof that normal people couldn’t climb easily onto. Most places had some sort of roof access point, and Peter had been chased off them enough times to look for one that he literally couldn’t be kicked off of.

Though he was seriously considering leaving this one despite how safe it was. He was on a pretty tall building, tall enough that most people didn’t see him, and it didn’t have a roof access point either. But this seemingly perfect safe haven of a building was right next to a restaurant.

And Peter hadn’t eaten in days.

Peter pressed his hands to his belly as it rumbled for what must’ve been the millionth time that day. The smell of the food wafting through the air was practically torturous, making his mouth water so much he had to lift his mask up and wipe drool off his face at least every five minutes.

He was so hungry he’d spent the last half hour just sitting on the edge of the roof, inhaling the scent of food deeply and listening to his stomach growl.

But eventually he knew he had to leave. He’d already spent a week on this roof, and as safe as it was, nowhere was safe for very long. Not when everyone was trying to hunt you down for something you didn’t do.

It’d been a couple weeks after his identity was revealed that a video surfaced of Spider-Man supposedly beating up an unarmed, defenseless man. What the video didn’t show was the man dragging a screaming little boy into an alleyway, and Peter saving him. Videos like this had actually happened before, usually edited to make him look like the bad guy by The Daily Bugle. But this was the first time people had an address to attack. And because of that, the video stuck around, circulating around New York, until suddenly he didn’t feel safe anywhere at all.

And not only was he in danger, his friends and family were starting to be accused of supporting a horrible villain, and Aunt May had even considered moving. Even Mr. Stark had been pressured to fire Peter from the Stark Industries Internship Program. He didn’t, but the damage was done. Rather than put everyone through the pain of being his friend, his family, Peter left, with a vague plan to head west.

The hardest part was actually taking the tracker out of his suit. He knew how upset Mr. Stark would be that he broke his trust. Again.

That was two weeks ago, and now the only problem was the health alert in the suit. The health alert sent out a signal of Peter’s location if he were to lose consciousness while out on patrol. Peter had to take off the suit to sleep without having the alert go out (which really sucked, as the heater would’ve been nice on cold nights) but he also had to make sure he never fainted, passed out from blood loss, got knocked out, or straight up forgot to take off the suit before going to bed. Or, roof.

Which was easier said than done when you’re exhausted and starving and freezing to death. And unfortunately the health alert was too complex to remove without compromising the rest of the suit, possibly rendering it completely useless.

There was no way he’d survive without his suit.

And even if he didn’t admit it, Peter liked the idea of having a fail-safe in case anything really bad happened. He liked the idea that he might get to see Mr. Stark again.

But until then, he was tired with nowhere to sleep, hungry with nothing to eat, and sad with nobody to comfort him.

Peter sighed, massaging his empty stomach as he stood up shakily. Might as well leave now instead of torturing himself over the food. He walked over to where his backpack sat, and pulled a map out to make sure he was still going the right direction.

Peter’s complete lack of plan for when he arrived at this vague “west” was starting to bother him, but he didn’t have the energy to try and think of a plan now. All he knew was he needed to get some food, and fast. And for food, he needed money. He’d already spent everything he’d brought with him within the first week, and if he didn’t want to starve he needed to find somewhere that’d be willing to pay him for a couple odd jobs.

Like he’d ever be so lucky with his face plastered on every tv screen, the word “menace” echoing in every watcher’s ears.

He wondered if a store would be willing to help him out. Maybe they could pay him to restock some shelves or something, he’d done that plenty of times at Mr. Delmar’s.

Peter’s stomach grumbled loudly at the thought of one of Mr. Delmar’s sandwiches, and he gripped his belly with a hiss of pain. Yep, bad idea thinking about that. But still, a store was a good option. Especially a big one, one where an extra face wouldn’t look too suspicious. He might as well head out and look around now, nighttime was always the best to travel in. A lot less eyes on you.  

Peter slipped off his shoes and pressed the spider emblem on his chest, breathing a small sigh of relief as it well away. Having his shirt and pants on under the suit was always uncomfortable, but it made it so he didn’t have to change into his clothes to sleep. It was warmer too, but he needed to be in street clothes now.

But Peter started shivering almost immediately, his trembling hands having difficulty pulling his hoodie out of his pack and stuffing his suit in to replace it. He quickly forced it on, teeth chattering as he pulled up the hood and rubbed his arms.

He really shouldn’t be this cold. It was springtime, but no matter what he did, Peter was always freezing without the heater in his suit to warm him. It made sleeping practically impossible, but there was no way he would risk Mr. Stark finding him. He couldn’t put everyone through the pain of just… being around him.

When he’d stopped trembling enough to actually get moving, he yanked off his mask, swung on his backpack and slipped back on his shoes. Looking down at himself he grimaced at the splotches of dirt and grime all over his clothes, and the fact that his hoodie pocket was ripping, and his sleeves were stretched too wide, and his shoes were peeling away from the soles.

He actually felt his eyes starting to sting at the sight of himself.

How could things have gotten so bad? All I wanted to do was help people. I just wanted to save people, I was helping, so why am I here? Why am I running away from the people I’m trying to save, sleeping on rooftops and freezing to death and so fucking hungry my belly hurts? Why do I fuck up everything I touch?

Peter sighed and brushed a tear off his face roughly, pushing the thoughts away as best he could. It’s just his Parker Luck, that’s all. Fucks everything over as best it can, as usual.

I just hope it doesn’t get me discovered. I don’t care what happens, as long as Mr. Stark and Aunt May and my friends can’t find me, they’ll be safe, he thought, swinging his leg off the roof and carefully climbing down. Normally he would just web his way down, which is a lot faster, but he didn’t have a lot of web fluid left, and there was no way for him to make more.

The scent of food was growing stronger and stronger as he climbed down, to the point where he felt a bit lightheaded with hunger. Maybe… maybe he could sneak in and grab something. Or not even that, he could just walk in and ask for a table for one. Order and eat, then book it. People dine and dash all the time right? And it looked so warm and cozy there.

He wondered when the last time he actually felt comfortable. His joints and shoulders constantly ached from sleeping on the rooftops, not to mention that food would definitely ease the pain in his belly. But what if they suspected him? Or recognized him from the news? He could still sneak in, and if someone caught him he could beg them not to tell, beg them to keep quiet, beg them for something to eat--

“Oh my god, what am I thinking?” Peter said to himself, finally setting foot on the ground. He couldn’t do that. Any of that. He’s supposed to be the hero, heroes don’t steal food, or dine and dash, or beg people for things.

But when his stomach rumbled loudly again it seemed to be saying “heroes gotta eat too.”

Peter was still weighing his options, staring at the restaurant and rubbing his belly, when he heard a shriek split the air.

“HELP! Help, someone please!”

Peter groaned, for once feeling like he’d rather not be a hero now. If everyone was just gonna turn on him, why should he waste his time trying to save them? Hell, why should he even consider whether or not he should steal food? He wanted to eat dammit, why shouldn’t he just ignore them, and instead go order eight cheeseburgers, and three milkshakes, with a side of five fries?

But when the person screamed again, Peter seemed to snap out of it, suddenly realizing his thoughts.

Shit.  

Peter quickly yanked off his hoodie and shoes and threw his suit back on, gasping at the wave of heat that spread over his skin as the heater started up.

“Karen! Tell me where those screams are coming from!” he said as he frantically pulled on his mask.

“Plotting route now,” she responded, a blue arrow pointing him across the street and into an alleyway. Peter webbed his way there as fast as he could, cursing under his breath.

“Dammit Parker, what the hell is wrong with you? Oh my god if they got hurt--Fuck, man!”

He dropped into the alleyway to see a woman pointing a gun at a man and what must’ve been his son behind him. The man was pleading to her, begging her not to hurt his baby. Peter’s guilt only got heavier as he realized if he’d gotten here sooner then maybe him and his son wouldn’t be so terrified.

“HEY!” Peter shouted, causing all three of them to start and look at him. The woman’s eyes were glassy and drunken, the same look Peter saw on a lot of drivers he saved people from. “Put the gun down! Drop it, you don’t want to hurt them!”

“Spider-Man?” Peter heard the little boy squeak.

“SHUT UP!” The woman screamed shrilly, whipping around to face them again and gripping the gun tighter.

“No! Look at me! Point that at me!” Peter cried, running forward and forcing himself between the gun and pair trapped at the end of the alleyway. The woman seemed to be so stunned at this move that she didn’t even react.

“Eyes on me,” Peter said calmly, staring wide at her. As he went on he slowly began to turn around her, and she instinctively followed him with her eyes and gun. “Everything’s fine, just keep… looking… at… me.”

When she’d made enough of a turn for the boy and his father to run behind her and escape, Peter snatched her arm and yelled “GO!”

The woman tried to turn as the pair took off, the father holding his child to his chest, but Peter held fast, gripping her arm tight enough for her to cry out in pain.

BLAM!

The force of the bullet nearly knocked Peter off his feet, as if the white hot pain wasn’t enough to do that. Every bell and alarm in his head was ringing, his Spidey Sense spiking to the point where the pain made his vision swim in front of him.

If you asked Peter now what he did after that, he wouldn’t be able to tell you. He doesn’t remember webbing the woman to the wall and clutching his shoulder as he stumbled out of the alleyway. He doesn’t remember hearing sirens and dazedly thinking he has to hide before they see him. He doesn’t even remember climbing into a dumpster and falling with a whimper on a pile of black trash bags out of sight.

And he sure doesn’t remember the roar of repulsors just outside his hiding place.

In fact, all he remembers after that is realizing he forgot to take off his suit, and that his shoes, backpack, and hoodie, were still sitting next to the restaurant.

~~~

Tony hadn’t slept since Peter went missing. He spent every minute, every second looking for Peter. Even when Pepper urged him to sleep, even when Rhodey came in to give him another meal to be left uneaten, he didn’t stop. God, all he wanted was for his baby to come home. He knew why Peter left, he knew Peter thought it was the right thing, but sometimes he wondered where the hell he got all the self-sacrifice from.

In the back of Tony’s mind he knew Peter had gotten it from him, but that only made him feel worse. He hated that he may have inspired Peter’s idea to go off on his own, to throw himself at the mercy of the world just to keep people from being inconvenienced.

“Friday scan the latest news articles for sightings of Spider-Man please?” Tony said, drinking what must’ve been his fourth cup of coffee that day.

“There are 32 articles, Boss,” she responded promptly.

“And how many of those are real?”

“None, sir.”

“Right. Awesome.”

Tony set down his coffee, and pulled up a hologram, running his usual searches and scans for Peter. Every day was looking more and more hopeless, and Tony’s last thread to cling to was that someone would spot him and he’d be able to get there in time before Peter slipped out of his grasp. Again.

There was also the possibility of the health alert going off. But for that to happen Peter would have to either get seriously hurt, or happen to fall asleep in the suit, which he seems to be taking very careful steps not to. He’d hate for Peter to get hurt, even if it meant being able to find him.

“Boss!” Friday said suddenly, startling Tony so much he knocked his mug off the counter and it smashed to the floor. But he ignored it, knowing Friday had never used this amount of urgency in her voice before.

“What is it?! Where is he!?”

“His health alert went off, I’m sending coordinates to Mark 42 now!”

Tony rushed to the suit room and stepped into the Mark 42, blasting off of the launchpad and turning the repulsors to full strength, headed straight for Peter’s coordinates.

“Talk to me Fri.”

“Peter has been shot in the shoulder, no major arteries hit, but he is losing blood. He seems to be extremely sleep deprived as well as malnourished, and will lose consciousness soon.”

“God kid, what have you gotten yourself into?” Tony muttered. He was surprised at how close Peter was, he thought in the two weeks he’d been missing he might’ve gone farther, but he seems to have only made it just outside New York City.

“Land here, Boss,” Friday said suddenly. Tony looked down and saw a pitch black alleyway, and quickly descended down, landing a few meters away from a dumpster. But from what Tony could see, nobody was here.

“C’mon Fri, I don’t fucking have time for puzzles--”

“The garbage, Boss,” Friday interrupted. Tony felt his skin go cold as he turned around, staring at the dumpster. He quickly went over and peered inside.

And there he was.

My kid, my Peter.

He was sprawled limply over a mound of trash bags, blood leaking out of a bullet hole in his shoulder. Tony pulled off his mask and took in his pale, thin face and dark circles under his eyes.

“Oh my god--Oh Pete.” He lifted him from the trash, feeling tears of both relief and fear spring to his eyes. “Hey kiddo, we’re gonna get you home now, okay buddy? We just um… we gotta stop this bleeding first.”

“Karen says Peter’s possessions are next to the restaurant across the street, there’s a hoodie there that you can use to stop the bleeding,” Friday said quickly. Tony flew gently to the spot she indicated, and found a discarded hoodie that was nearly threadbare, a pair of shoes that were barely recognizable as shoes, and a ratty old backpack where Peter must’ve kept his extra things in. He almost thought it’s where he kept his food too, but the kid was practically a sack of bones, there’s no way he’s been eating much.

“Okay baby, I’m just gonna set you down so I can get this hoodie tied around you,” he said, knowing Peter couldn’t hear him but feeling too relieved that he could talk to his kid again to stop. “We’re gonna stop the bleeding and get you home okay? It’ll all be okay, I promise Pete.”

Once Tony got the ratty sweater tied around Peter’s shoulder enough to keep constant pressure on it, he quickly shoved the shoes into Peter’s pack and swung it over his shoulder. Then he gingerly picked him up, cradling his head and hoping the metal fingers weren’t too uncomfortable for him.

“Okay Pete, we’re gonna go now okay? We’re gonna go and get you patched up now, you’re safe now alright?”

Tony’s helmet clanked shut and he blasted off, headed straight for the Tower again, still speaking comfortingly to Peter, hoping somehow he could hear.

~~~

Peter woke very slowly, slipping in and out of consciousness for what could’ve been seconds or days. Ultimately what woke him was realizing that he was far more comfortable than he should be. He should be freezing, his shoulders should be aching from the hard rooftop, his face should be sticky and wet with grime.

He shouldn’t feel a familiar warmth in his hand.

Peter finally opened his eyes, the action much harder than it sounds. He was in a hospital. No, not a hospital, it wasn’t quite the same. A medbay. Stark Tower’s medbay.

And the person holding his hand was Mr. Stark himself. He had his head on the hospital bed, snoring softly and holding Peter’s hand firmly, as though terrified if he let go, Peter would simply fade away.

No. No no no no no, I shouldn’t be here, no, oh god--

Peter’s eyes filled with tears and he couldn’t even hold back a sob. His small whimpers were what woke Tony.

“Peter?” he mumbled, lifting his head quickly and blinking sleep away. When he caught sight of Peter’s face his expression softened and he quickly stood up, reaching over and wiping away Peter’s tears. “Oh god, Peter, hey it’s okay, it’s okay baby, you’re okay.”

“No, no, Mr. Stark I can’t be here, they’re gonna--”

“Shh, none of that kiddo--”

“No, no no no I have to leave Mr. Stark, you shouldn’t have taken me here, they’re gonna hurt--”

“Nobody's gonna hurt anybody, baby. I know what you were trying to do, I know you want to keep us safe,” Tony said, pulling the blankets higher up on Peter, and tucking them in. “But you don’t have to run away. I’ve taken care of everything.”

“W-What do you mean you’ve taken care of everything?” Peter said. It was then he noticed he was still absolutely starving, making it much harder to focus as he looked up at Tony.

“I mean I’ve made sure your friends, Ned, MJ, your school, and Aunt May, all of them are protected. If a villain comes anywhere near them, if news reporters bombard them, I’ll know. You don’t have to leave to keep them safe anymore, I’ve taken care of everything, kiddo,” Tony said, squeezing his hand. “Well almost everything. You sir, have not been easy to take care of, as you haven’t even been around for me to care for you.”

Peter looked down, fidgeting with his covers as his face turned bright red.

Mr. Stark had it covered. Of course he did, he’s a billionaire, he can just hire people to keep everyone safe. Why didn’t Peter think of that before?

“I-I’m sorry. I thought it would be better for everyone if I just left, I thought you guys would be happier--”

“Pete, we could never be happy without you,” Tony said, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You’re too nice kid. Always thinking about others and forgetting to think about yourself. You don’t have to help anyone else right now, just let me take care of you okay?”

Peter smiled and nodded, wiping a few stray tears from his eyes.

“Okay,” he said softly. Tony smiled and squeezed his hand again before speaking again.

“You feel comfortable? Is there anything I can get you? Extra pillows or something?”

“Oh um, actually could--”

Peter’s stomach cut him off with a loud rumble, and he could feel it squirming hungrily under his skin. He felt his face flush a deep red and Tony gave a small chuckle.

“Jeez, can’t believe I forgot, you’re starving aren’t you?” Tony said. He patted Peter’s belly, and reached for something below the bed. When he pulled an entire paper bag full of food up Peter thought he might just cry. “How many cheeseburgers do you think you can fit in that tummy of yours?”

Tony helped Peter sit up, careful to keep his injured shoulder still, and gave him a burger. Peter ate like he never had in his life, shoveling mouthfuls of bread and meat and cheese down as fast as he could.

“Woah, kid, you might wanna slow down there,” Tony said after a moment, but Peter wasn’t paying attention. His heart was pounding and his stomach was aching and he couldn’t seem to focus on anything other than eating and swallowing as much food as he could. The guilt of wanting to steal from a restaurant instead of saving that little family seemed to bubble to the surface of his mind, and he quickly distracted himself with more bites of food, hoping to bury the guilt under it all.

“Peter? Hey, Pete, baby you gotta slow down--”

His eyes began to sting, and his breathing soon became hyperventilating, and he tried to ignore it, ignore the horrible feeling in his chest at the sight of the terrified father and his son, hoping it would go away if he just made the ache in his belly stop.

“Peter!”

A hand snatched his wrist and Peter looked up wildly, a desperate whine in the back of his throat. Tears were streaming down his face now, and he swallowed the bite he still had in his mouth. The endless mountain of guilt that had been collecting in his chest since he ran away was finally topped off by the look of worry in Tony’s face.

Why did it remind him so much of the father in the alleyway?

The dams broke, leaving Peter to curl up and sob into his knees.

“Oh no, hey, kiddo, what’s wrong? It’s okay baby, you’re not in trouble I just didn’t want you to hurt yourself, I promise,” Tony said gently. When Peter didn’t answer he crawled up and sat on the bed next to him, wrapping his arms around Peter’s trembling shoulders.

“I-I messed up Mr. Stark,” Peter said in a trembling voice. “I fucked up, I fucked up everything, I ruined it--”

“Woah hey, what’re you talking about? What’s going on?”

Peter turned and clutched Tony, sobbing into his shirt as he explained all about the restaurant and the father and his son, and the woman in the alleyway. How he’d wanted to steal, how he didn’t go to save them right away, how he wanted to just leave them and go inside the warm, cozy looking restaurant and forget it ever happened.

When he eventually finished Tony didn’t say anything for a moment. Instead he just reached into the bag and brought out another cheeseburger, holding it out to Peter. Peter didn’t take it, still feeling guilty for having wanted this instead of wanting to help.

“Eat up kiddo, it’s okay. Just go slower this time.”

“I don’t deserve it.”

“Yes you do. Everyone deserves to eat, and that includes you. You didn’t do anything wrong back there Pete, it was just a moment. Doing the right thing can be… extremely hard sometimes. I’m telling you the truth when I say that most people in that situation would’ve left someone else to take care of it and gone inside without much of a second thought.”

“But I’m not most people Mr. Stark. I’m supposed to be the ‘someone else’, I’m supposed to be the hero. How can I call myself something like that if I didn’t want to help?”

Tony rubbed his hand over Peter’s shoulder, and held the cheeseburger right under Peter’s nose, causing his stomach to growl again. Peter took it with a sigh and started eating again to quell the monster in his belly.

“Like I said kid, it was just a moment. You were cold, tired, starving, and worst of all you felt betrayed. The people you’re trying to save turned against you, so of course you felt less inclined to help them. But the thing about you is, even if you get knocked around, you never think it’s okay to hurt them back. That’s why you changed your mind. You knew that even if they hated you, you couldn’t handle the idea of them being hurt when there was something you could do to stop it. Not everyone is like that kiddo, you’re special. Just because there was one moment where you felt bitter, doesn’t mean you’re not a hero anymore. You still saved that little boy and his dad, you were still a hero. Everyone falters, it’s just a matter of if they stay down.”

He put a hand under Peter’s chin, coaxing him to look up into his eyes.

“I’ve never known a kid like you to stay down for long.”

Peter gave a watery smile and buried his face against Tony’s chest as they clung to each other, each finally feeling like they could relax.

Peter spent the next few days recovering in the medbay, his Aunt having arrived at the Tower only half an hour after he woke up and making him swear never to pull something like that again. His friends also came to visit, and MJ sketched Peter and Ned as they built an Avengers Lego Quinjet together.

It was on his last day in the hospital that he woke up to see Tony slumped in a chair and his Aunt May snoring on his shoulder, and he finally felt at home again.

[botsdontsleep]

Today is where your book begins, the rest is still unwritten...

Re: photo- Reunited and it feels so good! The Twins are back together and everything feels right in the universe!

Kameo was like a completely upgraded person! He spoke better, he acted like such a proper gentleman. Alamea was so excited to talk and hang out with him again and catch up! Kameo was also happy for his sister and loved hearing about her experiences at university.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Keaka couldn't be more excited to see her boyfriend again. She wanted to go with them when they went to pick Kameo up from the airport but she also understood how important it was that he spend time with his family and she had class even though the urge to skip was very strong. As soon as class ended she sped off on her bike to the Mantus.  

Keaka walked up to him slow, almost extremely shy. They’ve spoke on the phone numerous times but now that he was here in person she felt nervous. Kameo couldn’t contain his smile as he greeted her wide grinned. To everyone's surprise, Kameo embraced Keaka lightly as ever then stood back from her and looked at her intently.There was a brief intense moment of fear from the onlooking family that Kameo, because he had changed was going to break up with Keaka to try to start anew. And then what he did next shocked everyone...

Re: photo- Keaka welcomed him home, she found herself feeling nervous and shy

Re: photo-  Kameo: “Keaka, my love..”

Re: photo- Kameo: “i didn’t want to chicken out, or wait any longer. I’ve thought about this the day before I left, that day at the fair..I love you and we can definitely wait until after you graduate high school for the wedding but I want to be yours. I love you so much! Keaka, Will You Marry Me?”

Keaka: **high shrill squeak** “ YES! YES! I DO! YES! YES!!!”

Emerie:**off camera** “I think she said yes..”

Although unexpected, everyone cheered and it was a great welcome back!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Weeks passed and Alamea and Ekram headed back to school. They decided it was best to continue to live in their separate dorms but keep their Foodie Dates and on special occasions and once a month they always had a romantic date

Re: photo- Addicted~ Doja Cat, “ I am addicted, a little/Under the influence, a little/And it makes me want to dance, a little”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t long, it seemed, before Alamea was calling the family and inviting them to her University Graduation. Alamea had been doing so well and advancing so fast she was ahead in all of the medical programs and she was declining and accepting internships left and right. It also was revealed that Alamea would be her years Valedictorian and she was graduating with the highest medical honors! Liana being a proud parent was an understatement.

Re: photo- My mom kinda went insane with the graduation invitations. 

Re: photo- Graduation was a long 3 hour commencement. But it was worth it. Alamea had done it. She was a college Graduate from Medical School.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As a surprise graduation gift to Alamea, Ekram asked Alamea if she wanted to move in together. Alamea was so shocked and also so relieved! She knew that she was starting her new residency at the Smithers-Montgomery Hospital within the next few months and the thought that she’d be commuting from her childhood home was making her feel less than successful.

Now Alamea was more than excited to start this new journey of her life! She couldn't wait to tell her brother especially now that she was done with school she could help with wedding plans as well.

Re: photo- Nothing feels like home until I drive over this bridge. I’m home. I hope i always stay on this side of the island. 

Alamea and Ekram drove through the night after spending days packing both of their dorms and buying new furnishings for their new place. They decided to buy a new house and remodel it themselves which left them staying at Alameas parents for awhile until the remodels could be finished.  

Re: photo- Alamea excitedly getting back home, opens the door. “I’m baccckkk”

Now that Kameo and Alamea (along with Ekram) were back at home the days were busy with wedding plans and house planning. Alamea and Ekram spent most of their days at their house refurnishing and working with the designers to get it perfect.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Keaka and Kameo were spending every day together. Even though she was still in high school she was busy planning the wedding with Kameos mom when she came over on weekends and when she was home she was busy with homework,which meant that finding time alone with just each other felt like it was sacred, and the fiancees enjoyed their alone time..which ultimately led to a little surprise that Keaka and Kameo were keeping secret for now...

Re: Kameo and Keaka. “We engaged and bound fo life. My forever lady” 

They waited until Keaka had officially graduated high school before going through with wedding payments and final decisions but as Keaka tried on wedding dresses with her entourage she found herself adjusting dress sizes to larger every month...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wedding Day for Kameo and Keaka!

Cats out of the bag!  Keaka spent a long time hiding it. Even got through her high school graduation and prom where she mostly drank water..the day has finally arrived for her to marry her best friend since they were literal children. She was a beautiful blushing bride and was Pregnant!

Apparently, a few months before her graduation Keaka took a pregnancy test that came up positive and needed to hide it through her last months of high school.

Re: photo- The wedding was fantastic! Small and private and on the beach of their beloved homeland, Hawaii

Officiant: “Dear Beloved Family and Treasured Friends, I present to you Mr. Kameo and Mrs. Keaka Mantu. Husband and Wif--Expectant Husband and Wife. You may now kiss your bride! “

[nyfacurrent]

Business of Art | The Arts Administrator’s Creed: 5 Guiding Principles for Your Arts Admin Career

Empowering advice from arts administrators nationwide on how to define and achieve success in your life and work.

Arts administrators work behind-the-scenes on behalf of artists and creatives everywhere, providing resources, support, and structure for their projects and practices. Often, these types of jobs combine a passion for the arts with business, management, education, programming, fundraising, or communications expertise. The work can be highly-rewarding yet also challenging in terms of budget, time, and staff constraints. To help you navigate, we’ve asked leaders in the field for their tips on how to succeed and thrive as an arts administrator.

Manage Your Time

It’s hard not to get stuck in the day-to-day and to lose perspective on the bigger picture. Avoid burnout and fatigue by recognizing that you can’t accomplish everything overnight (or by yourself!) and that there are tools and systems that can help you stay organized.

Many of the arts administrators that we spoke with make lists and use project management and time management apps to keep them on top of their workloads and priorities. Deana Haggag, President and CEO of United States Artists, writes a to-do list every Monday morning and tackles it throughout the week. “On Fridays, I audit what didn't get done and why, so I can resolve it the following week. For reference, we use several project management apps at work—Asana, Airtable, Lattice, Slack, etc—and they're all very helpful but nothing compares to my handwritten list. It's the holy grail of my work week.” Haggag also schedules a few hours each day or week to respond to emails, using a ‘VIP’ inbox to filter through priority contacts so she sees those immediately.

Ben Hartley, Executive Director of The National Arts Club, keeps organization top-of-mind. “Every day, I list my priority projects and make sure they are sitting in front of me at all times. However, sometimes this can be overwhelming, so I also keep on hand a one-page overview of the big things I have to achieve this year. It’s easy to get subsumed by day-to-day detail, but if you’re not stepping back and looking at the big picture once in a while, you risk losing perspective,” he says.

Hunter O’Hanian, Executive Director and CEO of Stonewall National Museum and Archives, relies on two time management techniques: first, he prepares things well in advance and second he is a life-long list-maker who feels a strong sense of accomplishment when crossing off his “to-dos.”

“Figure out what works for you and stick with it,” advises Heather Pontonio, Senior Program Director at Emily Hall Tremaine Foundation. “I’ve tried lots of online note/task apps, but learned that I remember best when I’ve written it down — so my trusty journal notebook comes everywhere with me. I use my calendar app religiously and in addition to appointments, I include scheduled work time when there are projects that require focused attention,” she added.

Adriana Rios, Director of Programs at NALAC, takes five minutes out of every hour to stretch, breathe, or hydrate. “A tool I love using to help keep me accountable is the Focus app, which uses the Pomodoro method. In short, you set a time period (usually in increments of 25 or 55 minutes) around a certain task such as checking emails. For that time period, you focus only on that task. At the end of the allotted time, you have a five-minute break where you can do what you like. Personally, it’s helped me structure my day better and reduce distractions. It has also helped me start structuring my overall time by helping me better understand when it’s time to work and when it’s time to rest.”

Practice Self-Care

You’ll do your best work when you feel good about yourself and the value that you bring to your organization.

A lot of what Rachel Adams, Chief Curator and Director of Programs at Bemis Center for Contemporary Arts, and her curator friends say (especially as so many are now parents) is "we are not saving the world." She explains: “This is not to say our jobs are not important, but it is important to give yourself a little life/work balance. Even if it is to take a quick walk around the block for some fresh air. Or, turn off the computer and go see that show before it closes. Read something non-work related for 20 minutes a day. Building that into your calendar really helps. Block off that time, and you’ll be happier and also can focus better on the tasks at hand when you need to.”

For Pontonio, self-care isn’t just about yoga and eating healthy, it’s about holding time for what makes you happy. “My first job was with an off-Broadway theater that led to taking an additional house management job at another off-Broadway theater to make rent. I justified the 80 hours a week because I was working in a field I was passionate about. My schedule left little time to actually enjoy theatre and on a night off it was not how I wanted to spend my time.”

Jacque Donaldson and Mara Vlatkovic, co-directors and founders of New York-based networking organization Young Professionals in the Arts (YPA), reiterate the importance of keeping your passion for the arts close and not losing sight of it. “We find it vital to remind ourselves time and again why we work in our field. Go see that concert, exhibition, theater piece, or dance performance that will reignite that spark that made you choose your profession in the first place. Knowing that we all contribute to the art world and are helping creatives achieve their potential can be one of the most rewarding jobs!”

For Ricardo Maldonado, Managing Director of Unterberg Poetry Center at the 92nd Street Y, a demanding job goes beyond the 9-to-5. “Admin gigs require one to find a space—between rooms, between tasks—for the kind of creative thinking that eventually nurtures your own creative practices. For example, before I sat down to answer these questions and after spending a good two hours processing submissions for a poetry contest I run, I gifted myself five minutes to think in response to a screen-shot of a poem I read last week and write, for an additional five, my own response. I collect screenshots and lines that I shape into the body of a poem. As a poet and translator, I am constantly surprised at how the language of work—a move toward that language, and against it—has informed the spirit of/behind (and the ethics of) my poems.”

Stay Curious

Making things work better, identifying and tackling challenges, and being interested in the work that you do and the world around you are key to feeling satisfied in your job. “Always find opportunities to learn. We owe it to ourselves to be lifelong students. We owe it to the next generations to pass down our knowledge,” says Quanice Floyd, Founder and Director of the Arts Administrators of Color Network.

Rajshree Solanki, Chief Registrar for the Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden and Atelier 4’s first-ever Registrar of the Year, is interested in learning techniques on building and strengthening teams within her organization and providing others with the opportunities she was given earlier in her career (note: she donated her $5,000 award to the Smithsonian Institution’s Office of Fellowships and Internships’ Minority Internship program, which gave Solanki her start). “I tend to read business management books specifically on project management, communications, and team-building. I particularly recommend books such as Malcolm Gladwell’s The Tipping Point, Kim Scott’s Radical Candor: Be Kickass Boss without Losing Your Humanity, and Dan Coyle’s The Culture Code: The Secrets of Highly Successful Groups.”

Pontonio stays curious by proactively keeping up with conference offerings in the field that align with her work. “If there’s something of great interest and I am not attending that conference, I will reach out to the presenter afterwards to schedule a meeting about their presentation and top takeaways.”

Adams recommends inexpensive classes from Node Center for Curatorial Studies or travel scholarships for conferences like Association of Art Museum Curators (AAMC), College Art Association (CAA), and Common Field. “It’s best to get on all the email lists, specifically I like Call for Curators,” she added.

Yeiry Guevara, Grants Manager at Houston Arts Alliance, says her secret for staying up-to-date is newsletters. She recommends joining the mailing lists of Grantmakers in the Arts, NALAC, Americans for the Arts, and other cultural affairs offices, where she can learn from their layout, messaging, and content, in addition to getting relevant information from the field.

JiaJia Fei, Consulting Director of Digital at The Jewish Museum, makes staying informed a priority since success in the digital world means always keeping your eyes open and asking questions. She begins every team meeting with two agenda items to stay informed about industry changes and advancements: 1) Digital Landscape: sharing an outside project or news item from within the field and its application to the work they do and 2) Digital Cross-Fit: asking another colleague on the team a question about something they’re working on or training on a tactical skill, to encourage cross-training and collaboration. “As an added bonus, we have the privilege of working inside an art museum, which makes us all naturally curious and lifelong learners across everything we do,” says Fei.

Hartley suggests a more organic approach, and encourages you to allow serendipity and chance to play a role in your constant learning: “Sign up for LinkedIn groups, newsletters, and news-feeds that don't relate to your work, but may provide sparks for new ideas; be a source, not a drain, if you see an interesting article, piece of research or video, share it with a friend or colleague and tell them why you found it interesting. Ask them what they're looking at these days that's challenging, informative or exciting.”

Donaldson and Vlatkovic also recommend looking beyond the industry to learn from others, citing resources such as The Muse, Harvard Business Review, Inc, and The New York Times’ “Smarter Living” and “Entrepreneurship” sections to find out recent trends. They then suggest learning how to apply and adapt your discoveries and learnings to the arts.

Artist Sharon Louden, who wears many hats in the arts including serving as the Artistic Director of the Visual Arts at Chautauqua Institution, believes that being curious means being open. She also dedicates time each day with a number of sources to explore what’s happening in the industry. “I love taking about 15-30 minutes a day to peruse online publications, blogs, social media to read about what people are sharing, etc. to not only follow the work of colleagues I know personally but also to see the road maps of their lives, which ultimately leads me to unexpected paths of discovery.”

This practice is also highly beneficial to Louden’s work as an artist: “Following a lot of artists' lives tells me a lot about community, how artists sustain their own lives and ideas for opportunities for myself to grow my own practice. That kind of organic research enables me to build more of my community by reaching out to those I discover, perhaps offering to collaborate, and definitely creating spaces and opportunities for others to share as much as possible."

Create Meaningful Relationships

We’re all in this together, so why not establish lasting ties with peers and mentors at your own and other arts and culture organizations? These relationships are mutually beneficial, and can help you chart and map your career path in ways you may not expect.

“A tip that has served me well,” says Maldonado, is “try to learn as much as you can from as many people as you can; if I’m being generous, in most of my tasks, I often remind myself that I am working with/within a language that needs to be tended to. That impulse to learn affects every curatorial decision I had made since the day I started working and pushes me to move beyond the boundaries of what's expected. And has made me a more attentive (and kinder, I would think) administrator.”

It can also be helpful to re-frame the concept of networking. To that end, Donaldson and Vlatkovic wish “we had known at the beginning of our arts admin careers that networking simply means making connections with other people. From volunteering for organizations you believe in, going to industry events, participating in professional development workshops, or even your small friends group that meets monthly over drinks, all that engagement counts as networking! All those connections are incredibly important and will provide support throughout your career, whether it’s friends looking at your resume, acquaintances recommending you for jobs, or former colleagues sending useful articles.”

Adams suggests a proactive outreach strategy, and encourages arts administrators to reach out to people who are inspiring to you. “See if you can buy them a cup of coffee or have a phone call. Mentorship is important and establishing these relationships (whether it’s a cold call/email or through a friend of a friend) will help propel you.”

It’s important to forge meaningful relationships with both your co-workers and with others in the field. “Your team is there to support you in this work, and if not in your immediate workplace there are other arts administrators out there that want to connect. Reach out!” encourages Rios. Guevara concurs: “I am able to succeed because of the immense support of my team and my current leadership. Their sage insight helps ground me,” she says.

Ashley Walden Davis, Director of Strategic Partnerships at Alternate ROOTS, encourages peer-to-peer relationship building. “Your careers will grow together and one day, you will be those executive leaders and the next generation of future leaders. Having relationships with your peers across the field will make it easier to execute the work of organizational partnerships, fundraise, and execute day-to-day operations which by and large takes place in middle management. Furthermore, you will develop lasting friendships with other arts leaders who can help you troubleshoot, talk through ideas, or just share a laugh about drafting an artistic grant narrative about a project three years away. Having a strong accountability and support system is key to a long, healthy, and sustaining career in the arts.”

Guevara is emphatic that peers make the best mentors because “we’re all figuring it out together. The transparency in learning about each other’s process is very validating.”

Be Confident in Your Abilities and Have Fun!

In any industry, self-doubt can creep in. Don’t let it get the best of you by learning to recognize the unique voice and vision that you bring to your work. Says Guevara: “The first step of owning your value is being able to see or acknowledge your strengths,” and suggests that having mentorship can help you reflect on your strengths especially if you may not be cognizant of them.

Louden has affirming advice for artists who are arts administrators: “We as artists have the ability to bounce back from failure like no other in any other field; we can easily create things from nothing and we can problem solve outside of our studio in much the same way as we do when we make things. The way artists think and just naturally do things in the world is unique from people in every other occupation. There is often a disconnect between artists making their work and applying those skills and talents elsewhere in their lives. Since I see artists valued beyond making their work, perhaps the real challenge is for them—us!—to recognize and apply our natural creative talents on a daily basis."

O’Hanian adds: “People often don’t understand their professional values because in many cases we think we should be doing something else such as paint, sing, write or dance—things we really want to do. However, most people I’ve worked with have been very good at their jobs, whether they know it or not.”

Haggag highly recommends that everyone follow Picard Tips on Twitter. “Wow! I stumbled on them a few months ago and had no idea how badly I needed Star Trek's retired admiral Jean-Luc Picard's management tweets in my life. He recently tweeted 'No one can relax around Dr. Jekyll after they have met Mr. Hyde.' In my management experience, has that been true? Absolutely. Or 'Once all their basic needs are taken care of, crew members are motivated by the meaningfulness of their work.' Like, yes! Gospel!”

In Closing

Kristy Edmunds, Executive and Artistic Director for UCLA’s Center for the Art of Performance (CAP UCLA) and the inaugural recipient of United States Artists’ Berresford Prize, provided us with inspiring words to illustrate her belief in arts administrators as change-makers. We’re closing things out with a stanza that we hope propels you forward in your day and in your career:

“Press on, press on, press on! Our cultural charge isn’t fleeting, of this we are certain indeed. Your hand on the wheel is impressive and furtive persistence is key. Press on through the standard of measures. Press on through the spreadsheets and sing! Press on (oh press on) we are counting on you…to care for the cause thus imbued.”

-Amy Aronoff, Senior Communications Officer

Arts administrators in the five boroughs of New York City and surrounding metropolitan area are encouraged to apply to participate in our Emerging Leaders Program 2020. Free of charge to selected participants, the initiative provides leadership training for arts administrators over nine months. Our core objective is to help arts administrators discover, identify, and develop their personal motivation and individual competencies as leaders while exploring the attributes and themes of arts leadership.

This post was inspired by “The Artist’s Creed: 10 Guiding Principles for Your Arts Career.” Published in 2019, it provided empowering advice for artists, distilled from people we admire.

Images: Jenny Kemp (Fellow in Painting ’15), Breach, 2015, gouache on paper; Christie Neptune (Fellow in Interdisciplinary Work ’18), Pulling At My Labels, 2016, single-channel video; and Paul DeMuro (Fellow in Painting ’15), Nailz, 2013, oil on canvas

[you-guys--are-losers]

Staying Objective

//Okay, so this one isn’t technically Spideychelle, but it’s going to be! I’m really excited to announce this project, one that I’ve been planning for a while. This is the first of what is going to be a series of oneshots, one that follows a the storyline hinted at in the summary! I’m not yet sure how long it’ll be, but I know it’s going to be fun, and the oneshots will be a lot easier for me to write than full-on fic chapters while I’m in the school year. Think of this first one as a prologue, of sorts! Thanks so much for all of your support. <3 You guys are one of the main reasons I write!

Also, title ideas are welcome XD//

Summary: Midtown Prep and Valleyview School for Girls: the two schools with the largest rivalry in all of Queens. Academically, the all-boys and all-girls schools have been at one another’s throats for years, with no clear pattern of victory. For new student and AcDec captain Peter Parker, the competition between the schools is much more intense than expected-- especially when it comes to Michelle Jones, the captain of the enemy decathlon team and the most unpredictable person he’s ever met.

Word Count: 1,351

Warnings: Mentions of death, an almost-swear XD

Characters: May Parker, Peter Parker

Find it on AO3`.

A Change of Scenery

It’s been three months since Uncle Ben, and still it feels like Peter is sleepwalking through a life he doesn’t recognize.

He knows it’s going to be different, of course. The move to the apartment where Aunt May grew up is out of necessity, now that Peter and May only have the one income between them for support. The change of schools, on the other hand, is May’s idea.

It happens one late night, after May has come home from a double-shift. By then, the move to the small apartment is complete. It is the home where May grew up, one that is a great deal more cramped and dingy than the space that they shared with Uncle Ben. Peter does not say a single word about this, however. He knows that May can do nothing about it, and with her touch, she has managed to make the apartment feel almost homey. Maybe they don’t have much, but it’s enough, and Peter knows that she never bargained on any of this. No matter how much she loves him, she never planned on him; she and Ben were never interested in children.

And no one could have possible planned on losing Peter’s uncle so soon.

Peter is sitting at their kitchen counter, working on a summer assignment for AP Calculus that he knows will take him less than twenty minutes to complete. He could get his work done much faster in his room, but there is a reason that Peter does his homework at the kitchen counter every night without fail. May likes to see him, to rest assured that he’s alright. And no matter what happens, Peter is determined to make sure that she knows that despite everything that might happen, he’s okay.

Peter can tell that May is watching him, but it is only when he is nearly finished with the last problem that she finally speaks up.

“Do you remember how I met your uncle?” she asks, and Peter looks up at her, surprised. He swallows and begins to set down the pencil, taking a deep breath.

“Yeah,” Peter answers slowly, peering up at May. She is sitting with her back pressed against the stove, studying him through thick-rimmed glasses as she fiddles with a damp dishrag. There is clearly something she wants to say, and maybe he doesn’t quite know what it is, but now Peter is curious. “You met him while you were in high school, right?”

“In a way, yeah,” May replies, setting down the rag and taking a deep breath as she moves to lean across the countertop. “He was a senior and I was a sophomore, and we were both in highschool, but not the same one. I actually wanted to talk to you about the school.”

Peter blinks several times, processing what she’s saying. “You want to talk to me,” Peter says slowly, and he can’t repress a grin as he finishes, “Valleyview School for Girls? ‘Cuz I’d love to go, but it seems like there’s one major problem for me in that department-”

May tosses the dishrag at him, and Peter doesn’t bother using his enhanced senses to catch the rag as it hits him in the chest. Instead, he laughs along with her and picks up the cloth, folding it and setting it on the counter beside his homework. May is smiling too, now, and Peter is a little bit pleased to have been the one who put it there.

“I don’t want to talk to you about Valleyview,” she hums, running a hand through her long hair as she shakes her head. “I actually want to talk to you about where your uncle went to school… Midtown Prep.”

Peter’s eyes widen, and he blinks a few times in surprise before he can finally respond. “Oh, okay. That’s the school that you reach when you go down the yellow line, right?”

“Yep,” May confirms, her eyes anxiously scanning his face. “Your uncle went there while I was going to Valleyview, and we met through the schools… Your dad went to Midtown, too. I’m not saying you have to go there, please don’t think I’m saying that. There’s no reason for you to switch schools since it’s not like we’ve moved districts, but I just thought that you might appreciate a change-- not that you haven’t been handling it well, I just-”

“No, no, no,” Peter interjects quickly, offering May a quick nod as his eyes widen. His mind whirs as he processes the idea. “I get what you’re saying. It might be nice to go somewhere where not everyone knows…”

He doesn’t need to finish the sentence, and May knows that. She bites her lip, nodding in agreement. “Yeah,” she murmurs, and Peter knows that he’s said exactly what she was thinking. “And they have great college prep programs, they’ve got a great relationship with several colleges in the area and their test scores are incredible nationwide. I just thought that you seemed like a good fit.”

Peter runs a hand through his hair, mind moving a mile a minute. “I mean, that all sounds great,” he confesses. “And you’re really okay with me transferring junior year? I couldn’t be valedictorian or anything. Not that I care, just…”

“Who needs to be valedictorian?” she presses, offering him a lopsided grin. “No one gives a sh- um, sorry, no one cares if you’re top of the class or not as long as you show you’ve got a work ethic. And you do, Peter. They also have a ton of programs and teams that you don’t’ have at Hillcrest, like tech groups, and a really good Academic Decathlon team.”

May steps away from the counter and to one of the drawers, and from within she pulls out a slightly wrinkled but still professional-looking pamphlet with the school’s name on the front. She hands it to Peter, and he turns it over in his hands. “You can look at that tonight,” she suggests, tilting her head slightly to the side as she takes one of his hands in hers, “and tell me what you think tomorrow morning. There’s still a week left for me to enroll you. And I don’t want you to feel pressured at all, hon. I just…”

She trails off, and Peter furrows his brow slightly as he watches her. “You just what?”

May offers him a small grin, letting out a sigh. “Maybe I’m nostalgic, but Valleyview did a lot for me, and I know that Ben and your father loved Midtown. It opened doors for them, gave them opportunities… I just want you to know those things are there for you, too, if you want them.”

Peter nods, and for some reason there is a warm, constricted feeling in his chest. “Do you really think I can get in? Their entrance exams are supposed to be-”

“-Absolutely monstrous,” May finishes, and her voice is lively. “But I have no doubt that you can do it, hon. Especially with that Stark Internship under your belt.”

Peter winces, but he quickly coughs to disguise the expression. “Right. I forgot about that,” he hums, setting the pamphlet down. Lying to May is the most difficult thing he’s ever had to do, but it’s what he has to do. Still… She cares about him, and enough to suggest this. If Peter knows one thing, it’s that he trusts May, and that he doesn’t want her to worry about him. And if acting on that motivation means he has access to better classes and tech? It’s an added bonus.

When Peter goes to bed that night, his mind is made up. It is for that reason that he wakes up the next morning with a grin on his face as he walks into the kitchen. May is trying not to seem like she’s watching him over her newspaper, so Peter allows her to do that for a moment before finally speaking.

“So, does this mean you’ll actually let me take the car to turn in my transcripts?”

[newlifefori]

Not all things are B&W. A little story about me.

Roel Williams

The healing process can differentiate depending on how you look at it. It can be meeting a new person that teaches you necessary lessons. It can look like accomplishing the goals you set out for yourself and sometimes it can be the complete opposite. Pure chaos, a total change of everything in front of you. Having everything destroyed and forced to rise again like the phoenix. That, personally, is the healing process, to me. We are all trying to reach the next level or just improve to be the best we can be. We strive to reach our highest potential. And sometimes, when we do not follow our calling, our bodies have a way of letting us know. That is what happened to me a couple years ago.

The street was faintly lit when I left my best friends house. I stumbled a little due to the alcohol circulating through my veins. A night of celebration because in my mind I deserved it. Anyone would after acceptance into the program I was in. I took a couple steps north towards the 7-11 so conveniently placed and open all hours of the night. Ready for anyone to walk in even at 2am. It was a couple blocks away. As I walked, I could see my breath but I didn't feel the drop in temperature until about 5 seconds later. I didn't have my ipod like I usually would so I was observant of the sounds around me. Footsteps walking up is what caught my ear. I turned to the direction of the sound and two males were in proximity. I knew what was going on but they were nice enough to clarify. “Give me all your fuckin shit right now!”. I was staring right into the barrel of a 9mm pistol but I had no signs of intimidation so they acted upon my arrogance. I felt a solid object hit the back of my head with great force. I fell to the ground. When your adrenaline is pumping you don't really feel pain. You kind of just know what's going on with what seems like subtle contact. It was all just a process until someone grabbed my head and slammed it into the cement of a worn down sidewalk forgetting by the city. Blackout.

I was recently accepted into a program that I had an 8-percent chance of getting into. The the program was called YearUp. A year long program that would teach me professional skills as well as technical. 6 months would be schooling and the other 6 months would be the intership at a very big company in the area. YearUp had a very extensive application process. If you happen to make it past the first phase you would be subjected to multiple meetings and interviews regarding your background, financial situation, living conditions, extra curricular activities and much more.  It was a very accomplished moment for me. Here I was in a program that promised me a career in Information Technology. A field that is booming here in the pacific northwest. With this opportunity I tried my hardest and put my heart into it. When it began I was off to the races. I was strong in everything. I excelled in all my classes and I even represented the school when they were trying to score grants. I did so well I earned professional of the week the second week I was there. With all this success I thought IT was the thing I wanted to do as a career. After 6 months of being in the program I was finally sent off to my internship. Seattle Children's Hospital: Research Institute. All was well. I had a badge, access to many different buildings, and on the verge of getting hired on. This was the big reason why I felt the need to celebrate.

I felt the grappling of wires around me, in fact in me. I was turned to my side when I finally awoke. I could see that I wasn't in my street clothes, as I could easily slide back to laying in a position where I faced the bright white lights in the ceiling. I focused my eyes as much as I could and I realized I was in the hospital. As I  focused my eyes a little more I took a glimpse at the foot of my bed. There I saw my mother Donna with her head down. She looked down and out. I softly called out: “Mom”. The moment she heard the sound of words escape my mouth she jumped up and ran to me, being careful to not put any weight of my frail body. She wrapped her arms around me and cried out: “Honey, please don't ever scare me like that again.”. I tried to comfort her by telling her I'm alright but she continued to hold me. I Couldn't blame her. She saw everything and I just saw the aftermath. A few moments later a male wearing white came in. He had a clipboard so I knew he was the doctor. He asked if he could sit down and talk to me. I said yes. He grabbed a stool and sat next to my bedside. That's when he let me in on what happened. “Roel, we almost lost you bud. But you're getting better now. You were in a coma for about 4 days. You really need to thank your mom because she got you here in due time.” I then looked at my mom and saw that she was starting to tear up again, I grabbed her hand. “We’re going to keep you here for a couple more days so that you can heal up a little more. Get some rest ok.” He proceeded to walk out of the room and then he stopped. He turned around, looked at me and said: “You're strong Roel. Get some rest.”. It was a lot to take in and all the medication didn't help either. I needed some clarification. I turned to my mom and asked her what happened. She said: “Honey when I arrived at your friend's house you were unconscious. So I rushed you to Highline Hospital. When they got you into the ER they told me you were blind in your left eye so they had to transport you to Harborview. When you got here you were still unconscious. They started to operate on you and that's when….” She began to cry. “That's when you...flatlined honey. They resuscitated you and you flatlined another time. They were finally able to stabilize for about five mins and for some reason you flatlined again.” I asked: “Mom? Did I die?”  she softly said: “Yes... but you kept fighting honey. You are here now and that's all that matters ok. Just please, don't scare me like that again.” I sat there in disbelief. But I sat there indeed, alive. So, even under the circumstances I was thankful.

When I was finally healthy enough I returned to my internship. It was a drastic change. Every day that I was there I felt like I wasn't supposed to be. I didn't feel fulfilled anymore and that I was wasting my time. Changing printer paper, installing software, taking monitors out of boxes and being around people that seem to be pursuing their dreams, drained me. Just a year prior I had my first keynote speech in front of a crowd of 500 people. I raised up a lot of money for the people that needed it. I felt like I could fly. Being in front of all those people, telling my story and receiving a standing ovation was the most exhilarating thing I have ever done. That was the vivid daydream I would partake in while I was dealing with people's technical issues.

A week later I had my review regarding my internship. They sat me down and told me that they were really happy with my work as well as my customer service when it came to meeting with people for their computer problems. They also said that they were going to hire me on as soon as the internship ended starting off at about 35/hr. The manager asked: “Well, how do you feel?” I replied: “I actually quit. Thank you for the opportunity but I quit.” Those near death experiences really put my life into perspective. Life can be taken away so quickly, for nothing sometimes.  And that forced me to switch my focus to my true calling. To help others find their voice by using mine.

I am a person damaged in many ways. So I will never claim to be fully healed, nor will I ever. I grew up not having a father. I also went through about 16 different foster placements because I lost my mother a day before my 7th birthday. Being 100% will never be an option for me but I can choose to live within the healing process. I believe that I can do that by following my heart and helping as many people as I can.  Because of that, I have set many goals to accomplish. On the surface they may seem to only benefit me, but deep down those goals have my community, the world, and the people ingrained within them. A goal I set for myself, that is a part of my healing process was to find stable housing for the first time in my life. People need basics necessities. Food, love, and shelter. Without those you cannot fully start to develop oneself or even begin to think about assisting someone else in the development of themselves. Shelter was always the one that got away. I've only lived in couple homes where the stay was more than a year. Trust was never established because I never knew when I would be forced to up and leave again.  So I never put up posters, bought furniture. and I sure in the hell never psychologically settled. It wasn't until a 1 ½ ago that I found a place. I was definitely skeptical about it for months but my roommate and I really connected. I could tell she really cared about me and in the process she became another mother to me. Till this day I am still in that place with a big ol poster in my room. From there, I set a really big goal for myself. To earn an opportunity to have a second keynote speech. I had one a couple years ago advocating for the foster care system and the homeless community. I wanted to do it again. I wanted to see how much more I could help my community just by using my voice. And I wanted to know for sure that giving up that job wasn't in vain. I prayed and prayed, worked hard and one day I got an email from someone claiming they had an opportunity for me. It happen to be an event coordinator speaking on behalf of this organization called Amara. Amara is an agency that promotes adoption of Foster children. They also provide resources to any youth transitioning into Foster Care. She asked me to be the keynote speaker of their event. I said: “Yes! Of course! I gladly accept” I knew then the universe was listening to my wishes and that I was on the right path. This meant the world to me because by using my voice and my story, I raised $432,000.00 for Foster Children. Kids that don't know the power of their voice, yet. Then I set a main goal back in April. It was to get back into college. With all the good things that have come from public speaking my dream revealed itself. I want to be a world renowned public speaker that changes the world in a positive way. I know that college is the first step, so here I am, pursuing my dream. And looking back, I can only be thankful for the events that occurred because without them, I wouldn't be where I am today.

I know that “Healing” doesn't occur overnight and sometimes even years. It is up to you to define what healing means and what is needed to be done in order to accomplish that. I also know that there are some things you can't fully heal. Traumas, terrible things you've seen and things you've dealt with. There is no remedy or cure for that. It just becomes fuel that, if you let it, will launch you to the end goal. Personally, I define my healing as trying my hardest to better myself and the lives of people around me. I believe that, it will be the key that unlocks the door to a place where I feel content with what's happened and what is happening. Overall, I believe in my heart, that we are all here to help one another. We’re not here to take what we can take, but here to give all that we can give. That's how I think you heal. You recover when you assist someone along the road of healing. Even if you're there for just a moment or a glimpse in time. Whether it's a smile you put on someone's face or a simple “Hello” that makes the forgotten feel remembered. You are helping someone get through the healing process. And when you do, you are also helping yourself get through it as well.



[safarikalamari]

Coincide - Chapter 1

Next

Summary: Race has a good life. Amazing friends and family, graduation just within reach, the past few years have been treating him well.

That is, until one night changes everything and Race finds himself spinning in ways his dancing never could.

Pairings: Sprace (focus), Blush (bg)

Rating: T

Genre: Modern Era, Sick!Fic, Falling in Love (lots more tags on AO3)

Words: 1690

A/N: uh i got impatient with myself lmao but this will be updated bi-weekly!! and i can say for sure it won’t be on hiatus ever yeeeee 

Also special thanks to @seaofolives for beta-ing!!!

(tagging @marvinjuana!!)

-

AO3

or

The summer evening was cast in the glow of fireflies, bouncing around a small campfire where two friends sat, chatting the night away.

“Man, senior year. Can you believe it?” Race took a sip from his drink and tugged his hood over his head.

Mush laughed, mimicking Race’s movements. “No. Never thought we’d get to this point. But I’m ready to move on. Bigger, better things await us.”

“Always the optimist,” Race smiled, a lightness in his heart.

“You know me.” Mush added a wink at the end and Race threw his head back in laughter.

“Sure do.”

Sometimes, Race couldn’t believe how much time had passed. It felt like only yesterday that he had met Mush, the two becoming instant friends and forming a closeness that kept them inseparable. Now, with the end of their college career, a part of Race just wanted to turn the clock back. There were moments not savored enough, regrets still heavy on the mind.

Shaking his head, Race smiled at Mush, the two sharing a knowing glance before they toasted their drinks to each other.

As the evening wore on, the conversation drifted off and Race took to studying the flames as Mush leaned back, gazing at the stars. The silence was a comfortable change, Race mulling over all that had happened until this point in his life.

“Mush, I gotta say, thanks for everything. For putting up with all the bullshit I’ve put you through.”

“It’s never been putting up, Race. You’re my best friend. After Andrea…” Mush trailed off, swallowing before he started again. “We all coped in our own ways. We can’t blame each other there.”

Sinking in his chair, Race stared into the flickers of orange and red. “I guess...I just…” he stumbled as his thoughts turned dark.

If he hadn’t stayed at school so late or if he hadn’t been so testy with his brother that morning, maybe he wouldn’t be stuck with the guilt that consumed him. Race’s mind swarmed with what if’s but it was too late for that. He couldn’t change the past and that, more than anything else, hurt him the most. It chipped away at him every day, reminding him of his mistakes, his mark on everyone’s lives.

“Hey, Race,” Mush reached out, his fingers brushing on Race’s wrist.

Glancing down, Race swallowed as familiar needs grew inside of him. “Can I…?”

“Course,” Mush said, just above a whisper, holding his hand palm up. “You know you don’t need to ask anymore.”

“Still,” Race shrugged before lacing his and Mush’s hands together. “You and Blink.”

Mush nodded, his thumb running along the back of Race’s hand. “He understands. I mean, I explained it all to him when we first started dating and he was cool with it right away.”

“Does he know we fell in love with each other?” Race joked, taking another sip of his drink.

“Yeah,” Mush sighed, eyes turned up at the sky. “Star-crossed lovers, never meant to be.”

The two laughed at this, shaking their heads. Feelings shoved to the side, fading in and out at different times, in another life, Race and Mush were happy together. Now, Race was just content that they could be as they were.

Blink really was someone special. As first introductions went, Race was thrilled that he clicked with Blink and from then on, Race had been there, cheering Blink and Mush on as the relationship developed. Wedding bells were in the future and Race couldn’t wait to be best man to Mush. Or Blink. Whoever had won that rock, paper, scissors fight.

“Well, Mush,” Race sighed, grounding himself in Mush’s warmth. “Probably should head in for the night, huh? We’ve been out here for hours.”

“I suppose,” Mush smiled, squeezing Race’s hand before grabbing a bucket of water.

With the fire extinguished, Race watched the last of the smoke trails float into the night, weaving his worries in the fading grey. For now, he just needed to take it slow, be patient with himself. Change wasn’t going to happen overnight and Race had learned the hard way.

Mush’s arm wrapped around his shoulders and Race leaned into him, the two sharing another smile before heading into the house, the chirping of crickets accompanying them every step of the way.

~

“You’re so lucky you don’t need an internship,” Mush groaned as he fell onto Race’s bed.

With the summer nearly over, the two friends were frantically preparing for the incoming semester, Race planning out the details of his dance final as Mush played the waiting game for his nursing internship.

“Still no word?” Race turned from his notes, watching Mush press his face into the pillows.

Mush’s reply was muffled and Race hopped up from his chair, landing on his bed next to Mush.

“Talk to me, buddy.”

Lifting his head from the pillows, Mush stretched, a small groan leaving him. “They’re just taking forever. I know I’m in but I don’t know which hospital.”

Race smiled at Mush, poking at the crease of worry on Mush’s forehead. “I like your confidence. Let’s keep that up.”

Grinning, Mush hugged a pillow close to him and sighed. Race could see the tension in his shoulders, his eyes drifting away. Mush was forever the worrier and Race rested his head against the wall.

“Have you talked to Blink at all?”

Eyebrows raised, Mush shrugged. “He’s busy at the mechanic shop. I don’t want to bother him with too much.”

Race pursed his lips, nodding away his hint of frustration. With Blink hours away, living in the same city where their university was, Mush and Blink didn’t get to see each other often during the summer. Race could see the building tension and it was taking a toll on his own well-being. He cared for both dearly, but with Mush unable to outpour his love and concerns to Blink, Race was tempted to just drive Mush out to Blink himself.

“What about you? Your dance final?” Mush’s voice interrupted Race’s thoughts.

“I’ve got something,” Race looked over his hand. “I’ve got until next May so I’m not worried. Yet.”

Mush laughed then, rolling onto his back. “Famous last words.”

“Shush you,” Race shoved Mush playfully.

He’d learn how to manage his time this year. He had three years of practice after all and Race was determined.

It was time to give it his all, make everyone proud. There were going to be no distractions now, nothing to take him away from his dreams. He had promised his brother after all.

Mush’s eyebrows raised as if he had read Race’s mind and Race only smiled in return.

“We’re gonna be just fine, Mush.”

~

The last leg of his trip was killing him.

Music over-listened to, daydreams hardly a distraction at all, Race honestly thought he wasn’t going to reach the university. Sure, he had chosen it for the program, not caring about the distance, but now with an hour left to go in his car, he cursed to himself.

Why, why, why echoed in his mind as the road remained flat and endless before him. If it kept going like this, Race wouldn’t have much to distract himself and that thought alone was starting to terrify him.

To his relief, his phone rang then and he brought the call up on the car’s speakers, grinning at the name on his dashboard screen.

“What’s the good news, Mush?” Race asked, the gears in his mind whirling away.

“We’re bored,” Mush sighed on his end, accompanied with the sound of static. That or Blink getting caught in bubble wrap. “When are you getting here? The freshmen are starting to pour in.”

Race laughed a little, wondering how many new students he’d have to fight for his parking spot. Of course, he was used to it by now. Race was sure his last year had no more curveballs to throw at him.

“Oh, and Blink’s getting hungry too,” Mush added as Blink swore in the background.

“You guys go on and eat without me,” Race waved to no one. “I still got a while to go.”

Mush made a small noise and Race could already see the pout on his face. “We’re not gonna do that, Race. Even if I got to see you every day this summer, we hardly got a chance to be the three of us. I’ll just make Blink a PB&J to tide him over.”

Race smiled then, already seeing Blink’s expression of contorted confusion and anger. “You’re amazing, Mush,” Race complimented.

“Thanks, honey,” Mush responded almost immediately and Race couldn’t help laugh at Blink’s small protest of, “Hey…,” cutting through.

“I’m ‘honey’, Blink. You’re ‘babe’, remember?” Race teased and Blink’s laugh rang loud through his car speakers.

“Yeah, I guess,” Blink hollered very close to Mush’s phone, making Race wince at the sudden sharpness. “Turn down your radio, you’re going to ruin your hearing.”

Race rolled his eyes, but did as Blink said, then realizing his volume was maybe just a bit too high. “Okay, Dad.”

“I’m your weird uncle at best,” Blink shot back, but the rest of his commentary was lost to the commotion of what Race assumed was Mush grabbing his phone back.

“Okay, you gotta focus on driving. We’ll see you when we see you, okay, Race?”

“Catch you later,” Race nodded his goodbye, ending the call as he stared at the blue sky without a cloud in sight.

Never in all his years did he imagine he’d feel like this. Even with the looming schoolwork, the unknown after graduation, he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else than where he was. He was content, coming to terms with the past bit by bit. Had his younger self known what awaited him, Race knew he wouldn’t have spiraled as he did.

Life had done its worst, but Race wasn’t as angry anymore. Instead, he settled into the memories that remained, repeating forgotten promises to himself as the road stretched ahead.

Whatever was headed his way, Race was more than prepared, ready for his hardened emotions to leave him for good.

[itsbrianasjourney-blog]

Introduction to Me: My Journey

Disclaimer: I started writing this months ago, when I first came up with the idea of getting weight loss surgery and starting up this blog. I only recently finished writing it, though, so... here’s what would have been my first post. Enjoy!

I know what you’re thinking: not another weight loss blog! There’s already tons of them out there, what makes yours so special? And my answer to you is an honest one:

Absolutely nothing.

I haven’t started this blog or my Instagram account with the intentions of becoming a role model for anybody else. I haven’t started it because I believe I have the secret to weight loss -- and if I did, I would be making plenty of money off of that elsewhere. I haven’t started it because I feel like I have useful advice for anybody else that they couldn’t find elsewhere. The reason I’m starting this blog is for me.

A lot of things happened for me in 2016. In May, I graduated with a Bachelor's degree in Psychology with a Criminal Psychology cognate after restarting college for the third time. In July, I spent a month in Burbank visiting my sister to celebrate that accomplishment. Within the last few days of my trip, we went to the Universal Studios theme park because one of the few things I wanted to do while I was there was go to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter. We waited in line for over an hour to get onto the one ride I wanted to ride only to get close to the front, have an employee pull me aside to sit in a test seat, and be told I was too big to ride.

In August, I turned 25 years old.

I’ve been overweight for the majority of my life. Looking back at pictures and videos of myself as a kid, I noticed the changes starting to take place in my body when we moved in 2001. I was only about to start 4th grade at the time we moved, so I had spent a majority of my time outdoors when we lived in Florida. We spent a lot of time in the pool or running around in our backyards with our friends because everyone lived on the same street. I lived an active lifestyle because the environment and weather allowed for it.

In Maryland, we no longer had a pool. The houses were spread far apart among hilly roads and there were no sidewalks in our neighborhood that easily allowed us to play without the danger of getting hit. I also hit puberty not too long after we moved. Though I played softball for a few years up until high school, my strategy focused more on the sheer force of my swings so that I could take my time running the bases. Thinking back on it, I realized it was because it hurt to run. Running made me breathe hard and labored breathing hurt my chest, so I would adjust my strategy to allow me to do what I enjoyed while not encountering any of the difficult parts of it. We all want to avoid pain at all costs, but because I was already overweight by this point, it made exercising of any kind difficult.

I’m fortunate that I never experienced any significant joint pain while being obese, but it didn’t make working out any easier. Not only did exercise make it hurt to breathe, but my sensitive skin would start to burn or itch whenever I would sweat. I experienced terrible skin issues for the better part of the final six years we lived in Maryland. Though they’ve mostly cleared up since we moved to Virginia, I still experience the same itching or burning sensation whenever I sweat. On top of that, I overheat easily. All of these factors played into why I avoided working out whenever I could. I knew it would benefit me, but all of the pain that I experienced in the process never seemed to outweigh the eventual benefits that were promised. A mix of less rigorous activity, puberty, and all the dramas that came along with being a growing teenager led me to finding comfort in food instead of friends. By the time I graduated high school in 2010, I was well past 350 pounds.

In 2013, I had made a decision to begin Weight Watchers with my mother. We had done the program once before in 2009 during my senior year of high school and had seen results, but I fell off of the program due to a lack of commitment. This time around, as accountability partners, my mother was able to lose close to 80 pounds and I lost just about 50 by the end of 2015. That was when the company unveiled an overhaul of their program, which left a lot of the foods we had settled into our routine as healthy alternatives or bite-sized snacks to curb cravings with higher point values and left us feeling cheated. We stopped doing the program that December, but we still had our gym memberships.

We had said we would continue working on our weight loss, but it’s easy to say one thing and do another when you prioritize everything else first. There was always something else that was more pressing to deal with that the time. For me, it was my job, then an internship that I needed in order to graduate, and finishing up my final semester of my undergraduate degree with decent grades. Those things were all definitely important, but I managed to trick myself into believing that when it was all over that I would jump back onto the wagon and focus on dieting and losing weight later. I started a low carb diet over that summer, which worked wonders for a few weeks! … Until I visited a friend’s house for a weekend and fell off the wagon. Again.

It seemed like every single time I wanted to put my health first, some circumstance would come into play that prevented me from doing so. Sometimes those circumstances were outside forces, like depression. I was diagnosed with clinical depression when I was 18 years old, have struggled off and on with it since then, and it has affected not only my eating habits, but also my energy and motivation levels. My mental health was negatively affecting my ability to do anything to help myself and I wasn’t getting help with it. What the rest ultimately boiled down to was the fact that I am bad at telling myself no; if I want something and have the means of getting it, more often than not, I’ll find a way to justify it and do it. This attitude helped me to succeed in getting onto the Dean’s List multiple times in college, but it was also the reason why I had allowed myself to get up to nearly 400 pounds by the time I was 25 years old.

In February of 2017, I made the decision to have weight loss surgery (more commonly referred to as WLS within the online communities I’ve since joined). I got information from the agency that my mother’s friend had gone through, then looked for a therapist who specializes in eating disorders to help me get my mind in the right place for the change. By the end of the month, I was scheduled to have surgery on May 23rd. In three months, I would be on the other side of WLS and I’d -- hopefully -- be better off because of it. If I wasn’t going to be able to tell myself no and enforce it on my own, then I was going to put in a physical boundary that would force myself into saying it.

It wasn’t an easy decision to make, and I won’t pretend like it was. I knew, though, that it was a necessary one that I had to make for myself, and one that nobody else could make for me. I couldn’t think about what others would think of me going through with this, what I could possibly be missing out on if I weren’t able to enjoy food in the same ways that I had been before, or about what could potentially go wrong if I went through with it because I knew what could go wrong if I didn’t. I’m forever grateful that I never experienced any major health complications throughout my life due to my weight, but I’ve heard plenty of stories from others who have that made me want to take the steps towards being a better version of myself; this was one of those steps.

If my story helps someone else along the way, then that’s wonderful! I’m all about advocating for doing what you need to do to put yourself in a better place. If it doesn’t, then that’s fine, too. Documenting my life following this major life decision is and always will be for me, so that I can look back at where I was years down the line and thank the old me for allowing the current version of me to shine through.

My name is Briana and this is my journey.

[ecotone99]

[HF] The Confederate Spy

In this world, the American Civil War resulted in a cease-fire instead of a victory; the outcome preserved two nations, the Union and the Confederacy. For about a hundred and fifty years that cease-fire has continued. Nevertheless, in that period, the Union established a productive industrial sector, while the Confederacy maintained more of an agricultural economy. Having one of the world's most militarized borders has contributed to a noticeable divide between the two nations, with the majority seeing the Union as rich, and the Confederacy as poor.

Through the years, families needed to make choices, are you a member of the Confederacy or the Union? In the 1970s, the Shield's made this decision as a portion of the Shield's relocated to Confederacy. The families kept in contact, and for the first time since the 1970s, a Confederate Shield would be visiting the Union.

Dimitri Shields is a college student who has a master's in engineering; he will visit his uncle, Marlon Shield, who is a successful engineer with one of the Union's largest firms and an influential member of the elite. This took a lot of negotiation, but they worked it out so Dimitri could obtain a work visa and do an internship with Marlon's company.

Dimitri waited at the Arlington / Washington DC border crossing; the lines are long, not everyone will be able to enter today. It was a 6-month wait, as various background checks were carried out by the Union government. At the admission center, Dimitri was stripped, searched for weapons, and issued vaccinations that were not accessible in the Confederacy. It took three hours to conclude the whole process. When he was done, he entered Washington DC, looked at the Lincoln Memorial, he had arrived.

Dimitri was welcomed with open arms, even though they haven't seen that part of the family, in the age of the internet, it makes it easier to communicate with the other side.

"Dimitri, my nephew, we've been waiting for this to happen for a long time, I'm so happy you decided to do the internship with my company, we're going to start tomorrow, but we're celebrating tonight," says Marlon.

"Oh my goodness, what is it like down there, we read news stories, families live in tents on the sidewalks, towns filled with poverty and schools in disrepair?" questions Marlon's wife, Maureen.

"In the Deep South, there's some of that, but several of the border cities look and act the same as the Union cities," Dimitri responds.

"Yeah, but I read just the other day that a guy died of polio in Richmond, less than a two-hour drive from here, something we haven't had here in over 80 years," Maureen says. The questions exacerbate Dimitri,

"There is no doubt; I'm glad to be in the Union," Dimitri says in a polite tone. The family jokes, they feel sorry for the Confederacy in their heart, but their behavior and remarks represent greater superiority over their poor neighbor.

The next day, Dimitri attends work with Marlon, Cresswell Technology, the Union's largest military equipment, and weapons supplier. Dimitri faces more Confederate razzing before he can finally get to work. He's determined to work harder than anybody else in the building.

“So, you have an engineering degree, William & Mary College, have you found their teaching adequate?" questions Marlon.

"Yes, we're studying from the same books used in the Union," I can assure you, we know our stuff, "Dimitri defends.

"I think you've got the luxury of standing on the shoulders of giants; we've been working on some of the most sophisticated technologies up here in the Union for a hundred years," Marlon said.

"Yeah, I'm fortunate to be here," repeated Dimitri.

"Alright, I've heard great things from your supervisor, keep it up, let's have lunch later this week," Marlon says as Dimitri's leaves.

Dimitri enjoys working; there is little question that the Union provides more opportunities than the Confederacy. This was something he mentioned to Marlon in a discussion about him remaining in the Union and working,

"You know when this internship is done, I believe there might be a position waiting for you here at Cresswell Technology. What do you think about officially moving into the Union and disassociating yourself from everything in your life, Confederate," says Marlon.

"I have nothing to keep me in the Confederacy, I'd be able to transfer quite easily," Dimitri says with enthusiasm.

"That's fantastic, they say in analytics that your work has been phenomenal, this is not nepotism, you're getting hired for your skills, you've overcome some incredible odds, welcome to the family, kid," says Marlon.

"Thank you, sir, I won't let you down," Marlon responds.

On his way back to the house that day, Dimitri was stopped by three guys on the street, who looks to be in a mood to cause trouble. "Look at this; Confederates in our town, you boys know how I knew that he was Confederate? From his smell," said the largest, spitting on Dimitri's shoes.

"I'm just heading home, I don't want to create some problems," Dimitri says attempting to avoid the mess. As Dimitri starts to walk, the locals surround him, one of them pushes his arm back, so he faces them,

"Confederates come in, take the jobs that would go to Union citizens, charity, I feel sorry for you, have to spend your whole life in poverty and squalor, and they're offering you a position out of sympathy," says the large one as he gets up in Dimitri's face.

"Look, it smells like you guys had a little too much to drink, I don't want to cause you to have any more trouble," says Dimitri.

"Trouble, let me give you a little bit of trouble," says the local, as he takes a swing at him, Dimitri ducks, swings his leg and lands a fist right in his throat. Then, at the same moment, the two friends try to attack Dimitri, he avoids contact with an evasive maneuver, bringing them down to the ground as well. Dimitri looks around with three people lying on the street, he takes off.

Later that day, the police arrived at the house, saying that Dimitri attacked three men on the street,

"The Ballard boys are saying that your nephew, from the Confederacy, attacked them on the street," the police accused.

"There must be some mistake, my nephew, Dimitri, is smart and professional. He wouldn't do anything like that, there's too much at stake," Marlon tries to defend as Dimitri heads down the stairs.

"Is this him? You're going downtown to answer some questions," the police said in an attempt to intimidate.

"I swear, they were assaulting me; it was self-defense," says Dimitri.

"Too bad, our rules do not extend to the Confederates," police say as Dimitri is stared down. Marlon steps in and asks to meet with the police officers outside, Marlon then paid them off, the cops left without bringing Dimitri in.

Some time went by, and Demitri's internship ended, however, he accepted the job that Marlon had offered him and was on the fast track to success. On the morning of his first day, Dimitri sat with Marlon in his office.

"Welcome Dimitri, to your first day at Cresswell Technologies as an official employee; it just warms my heart to see one of my own family work hard and earn a position with my company. I wish some of your cousins had your initiative," Marlon says.

"Thanks, Uncle, I'm looking forward to getting started," Dimitri says.

"Now that you are an official employee, I have a very exciting project to share with you, the Union government has tapped Cresswell Technology to head up a program called the Freedom Project," says Marlon excitedly as he gives him a binder.

"The Freedom Project is a reunification program for the Confederacy and the Union. The government thinks it's time, there hasn't been an incident in about 20 years, the leadership of the Confederacy is aging, and they feel they may be isolated," says Marlon.

"The first paragraph states there will be re-education camps for children, any child under the age of 12 must go to a camp to unlearn the Confederacy's indoctrination," Dimitri reads.

"Well, yeah, they still teach that the South won the war, unification would never be possible with that kind of education, the youth must know that the Union is superior," says Marlon.

"The leaders of the Confederacy will never go for this, they are strong in their beliefs," Dimitri notes.

"That's the best part; it's called the Blitz. We're going to ransack the South in the middle of the night with a major military invasion. Every person above the age of 50, will be taken as a prisoner of war and judged as a friend or foe," says Marlon. Dimitri becomes a little disgusted; he starts to think about all the people he knows who are over 50, who have little to do with confederacy views.

"We're going to be treated as liberators; we're going to bring the South out of poverty and unite as one country again," says Marlon.

"Wow, this is a hell of a plan," says Dimitri. Dimitri goes to hand his binder back, and Marlin asks him to keep it,

"That's the main reason you've been hired; we need a Southern face to assist in the change." Dimitri places the binder in his bag, "Tomorrow morning at the White House, we have a meeting with the president and his cabinet.” Marlon says as Dimitri smiles and nods.

Dmitri took off in the middle of the night, wandering around the backwoods and making his way back into the Confederacy without being detected. He made it back with the Union's Freedom Project plans, including some schematics for some of their more sophisticated weapons.

As the leaders of the Confederacy learned about the Union's plan, the war machine started to ramp up again. The cease-fire was ended within a month, and a second civil war had begun.

submitted by /u/patrickryan182 [link] [comments] via Blogger https://ift.tt/2UKRhnB

[douchebagbrainwaves]

WHAT NO ONE UNDERSTANDS ABOUT SPAMS

At most software companies, support people are underpaid human shields, and hackers are much more constrained by gentlemen's agreements than regulations. If they seem to have co-evolved with our interest in faces, there's something special about primary colors for nearly all of us, because it's hidden behind a thick glass wall and surrounded by a frenzied crowd taking pictures of themselves in front of a class. It's harder to hide wrongdoing now. As an outsider, take advantage of one another, like mathematicians or physicists today—maybe like anyone who has worked on software. When you notice a whiff of dishonesty coming from some kind of lowest common denominator.1 When I was in grad school in Boston, a friend came to visit from New York.2 That was probably the best way to come up with some other solution. That scariness makes ambitious ideas doubly valuable. People fifty years ago would be astonished that one could just hack together keeps increasing. In fact it's the old model: mainframe applications are all server-based software is such a thing as good art. Actually this seems to be something you write, check in, and go home. Much of the time, perhaps most of the practice of good design can be derived, and around which most design issues center.

Maybe you can, and your competitors can, you tend to be suspicious of rich people. Every designer's ears perk up at the mention of that game, because it's a way of learning about your users. Everything would seem exactly as he'd predicted, until he looked at their bank accounts. And paying attention is more important to be right than original. Web-based applications, everyone uses the same version, and bugs can be fixed as soon as you can, but the pool allowed to write on general topics was about eight people who went to the right parties in New York, Los Angeles, and Las Vegas. There is less stress in total, but more for the programmers. If, as the evidence so far implies, you have to know if you bet on Web-based software is that a company so big can develop software at all. At Viaweb we had external forces in plenty to keep us in line. Small things have more personality.

It's obvious now that he was on the list because he was you once, back in 1975, the last time a new way to focus one's energy, for example, does not begin by creating a design that he then imposes on the users, instead of reconciling it with scripture. Imitating nature also works in engineering. This focus on the user. You can do as much that Microsoft can't as they can do it without setting off the kind of things most people use computers for, a tenth of a second for a click to get to the end of it they had built a real, working store.3 I'm not saying it's correct, incidentally, but it might get you second place. And yet someone always decides to try anyway, and it was clear that this was the beginning of a trend: desktop computers won because startups wrote software for it. But if you just ask that question you'll get immediate answers. If you're going to have an answer or they'll look bad. All humans find faces engaging. The solution? -Based software, because desktop software has become a lot less fun.

You can see wealth—in buildings and streets, in the same way I write essays, making pass after pass looking for anything I can cut. I read occasionally about attempts to set up technology parks in other places, as if they were investing in hardware startups in 1985.4 What counts as a university for student visas.5 The unusual thing about Lisp—both in the sense of what people will pay for their skills, the answer is yes, apparently. We're starting to move from social lies to real lies. Curiously enough, it's the same reason: it will be like the past in caring nothing for present fashions. Well, that may be fine advice for a bunch of kids with webcams can be than mass-produced sitcoms. Of all the reasons we lie to kids is how broad the conspiracy is. When a company loses their data for them, they'll get a lot of cultural baggage, and in 1957 his top people—the traitorous eight—left to start a startup like this than a recipe site? My grandmother told us an edited version of the death of our first cat.6 A couple years ago my friend Trevor and I went to look at the Apple garage.

This problem afflicts not just every era, but in some degree every field. It seems obvious. Statues to be cast in bronze were modelled in wax. Most of the qualities I've mentioned are things that can be solved by recursion is nearly always best solved that way. So if you managed to recruit, en masse, a significant number of users and the other is how much you improve their lives.7 How do you see ideas that involve painful schleps. Sheer effort is usually enough, so long as you leave open the option of getting rich by tricking consumers or lobbying the government for anti-competitive regulations or tax loopholes, then let's stop them. When you can reproduce errors and release changes instantly, you can always tell.

That seems like saying that blue is heavy, or that you've done something inappropriate. But Balzac lived in nineteenth-century France, where the operating system works together with servers they control. The test drive was the way to persuade people is not just one thing. It's not cheating to copy. And server-based software, you never have to move. Whatever their other flaws, laziness is usually not one of them. Cars are a good example of why. Though indeed, most things bureaucrats do, they do badly.

So I think it can scale all the way to ensure that this is only done to suspected spams. I'd like to suggest an additional feature to those working on spam filters: a punish mode which, if turned on, would spider every url in a suspected spam n times, where n could be set by the user.8 The best thing software can be is easy, but the lies implicit in an artificial, protected environment are a recent invention. If you only need two kinds of symmetry, repetition and recursion. You're human.9 Technology should increase the gap between rich and poor evaporate. When they go to VC firms they have to have an administration that's open to suggestions, I'm going to risk making one.

Notes

But the question is to make your fortune? The word regressive as applied to tax avoidance.

If by cutting the founders'. Microsoft, would be enough, it may have no representation more concise than a Web terminal. Within Viaweb we once had a strange task to companies via internship programs.

If you freak out when people in any case, because few founders do it well enough to turn Buffalo into a de facto chosen by human editors. But the question is only half a religious one; there is some kind of people like Jessica is not one of its users, however, you don't get any money till all the other team. Ideas are one step upstream from economic power, so problems they face are probably not do that.

There's a sort of Gresham's Law of conversations.

They could make it easy. Once again, I'd say the raison d'etre of prep schools is to do and everything would have. These anti-dilution protections. The aim of such regulations is to make money off their median investments.

Ten years later Jim Ryun ran a 3 year old to get something for free. I mean this in terms of the 20th century cohesion would have met 30 people he knew. It is the case of heirs, professors, politicians, and journalists—have the concept of the 23 patterns in Design Patterns were invisible or simpler in Lisp, because for times over a series A in the other people the first half of the crown, and they succeeded.

Though you never have left PARC. Everyone else was talking about why something isn't the last they ever need. Cit.

So what ends up happening is that you'll expend a lot of legal business. In practice sufficiently expert doesn't require one to be in most if not all, the best intentions.

The amusing thing is, this would probably be to say that one of the next round. This law does not appear to be the last thing you changed. This is why I haven't released Arc. That's why the series AA terms and write them a microcomputer, and once a hypothesis starts to be, and eventually markets learn how to be a trivial enhancement of HTTP, to allow multiple urls in a in the classical world meant training landowners' sons to speak well enough to defend their interests in political and legal disputes.