#as well as the fact i had to recruit a friend with an iPhone to change the settings on them

[davepaste]

Since my wf-xm4's died, and I'm trying to find time to ship em in for repair, I've had to resort to airpod pros I've had to scavenge from the lost and found at work. Surprisingly okay actually. Noise cancelling and is fantastic, even if not as good as my primary set, while working in an incredibly loud environment

[moonbelt]

»the moon, the sun

↳ ex-best-friends to lovers au | college athletes au

pairing » jeon jungkook | reader

genre » big angst + fluff + sexual themes

word count » 11.770

» there’s not a single thing you like about jungkook. no. not his jokes or his thinly veiled overwatch obsession or his supreme swimmers body. absolutely nothing. there is, however, a multitude of things you hate. wait, sorry that was rude, vehemently despise is better. 

 » mutual pining that could've been resolved if either of them exercised some basic communication skills lol, mild coarse language, lots of angst, cocky jjk but also crack jjk??, gamer memes, poufy haired jjk, also supposed hate-love relationship. 

YOU ARRIVE AT THE SWIM CENTER WITH A THROB in your knee and a resounding ache in your head. It felt like your brain was about to explode into a thousand gory pieces as you pushed open the wide frost-tinted glass double doors that led to the locker rooms.

Now that would have been a great start to a low-budget horror flick. You could just picture it, a lonesome girl? No… Woman? At twenty, you weren’t sure if you still qualified as a girl but the term woman felt too formal, too stifling, too mature to be attributed to you. But whatever, that was semantics you could spare for another day.

So, there you’d be; creeping into a university swim center at the ass-crack of dawn and then bam! Your brain impedes on itself. Maybe it’s because of some mutant phenomenal viral disease, maybe it’s repercussions from tempering with a portal to the paranormal realm that only exists in semi-open pool arenas. Whatever it was, it would have to be epic and a far cry from the truth. Which was, you were used to indescribable, continuous pain. It came with the territory of being an athlete. If you didn’t wake up in the morning with some part of your body feeling uncomfortably off then that just meant you didn’t try as hard the day before. Or at the very least, that’s what you told yourself to keep going.

Yawning, you punched in your locker code and began the mental and physical process of getting ready for the next three hours of practice before break. You usually where the first one in the building and the last one to leave if you didn’t have classes or work.

Swimming made you feel good, made you feel like there was something special about yourself. It didn’t help that the more you practiced, the more you were able to outpace everyone else. Practice birthed results and your stubbornness, wait no, competitiveness was off the charts. So, of course, you wanted to dominate every single athlete in your division.

Still though, waking up at four in the morning had to be the singular dumbest thought you’d ever conceived.

Once you were suited up, you padded back into the arena that held the huge industrial sized swim pool. The overpowering smell of chlorine and humid air made you feel more at home than the dormitory you’d just left less than thirty minutes ago. You honestly might’ve started crying right then and there at the sight of the crystal clear water and the humongous life-sized painting of an unknown swimmer in the midst of a beautiful breaststroke at the center of it all.

Today was after all the first day of the semester. Your collegiate swimming career was finally back on. Your lips twinged at the sight of the polished, tiled floor and how it felt cool under the soles of your feet.

You’d gone back home for winter break and although you’d kept up with the training regime your coach had persistently emailed out, there was just something fundamentally different about being back on your own turf. In fact, you were fairly sure a few tears slipped past your barriers and hooked at the corners of your eyes at the thought. Only to be blasted into near oblivion by the sound of a phone camera going snap snap.

You whipped your head to the direction of the camera like a person possessed. “What the fuck?”

“Oh, My Zelda. This is glorious.” The goddamn stalker, wait he wasn’t a stalker if he was a member of the swim team. Right, the goddamn fiend had the guts and audacity to say with an open-mouthed grin marring his face. “You’re actually crying. There are literally tears in your eyes. I can see ‘em.”

“Screw off, Jeon.”

Him. The only other person dumb enough to be at the swimming center at five am. A full hour before the scheduled practice time. God, how long had he been watching you? And to think he even had time to whip out his phone and document this moment. You were never gonna live it down, that was for sure. You? Crying? Over – you took a grand look around your surroundings – water?

“It was only three weeks, you know. You wouldn’t die if you didn’t swim for a month or two.” He still found the whole scenario funny, if the laughter in his voice was any indication.

“Coming from someone that I doubt showers even once every three days? Yeah, I’ll pass on that lecture.”

“Ooh, a solid burn from the Ice Queen,” he clutched a hand to his chest like he’d been shot with a bazooka or something. Dramatic. “That one hurts my ego immensely.”

You snorted. It was debatable if anything could seriously damage Jeon Jungkook’s ego. That shit was built with solid uranium. No matter how you tried to smash it. He was his own number one supporter and he’d built himself up in his head that he was the greatest at whatever he laid his hands on. At that moment, however, you wanted to snatch the iPhone out of those deft hands of his and dig a well through his head with it. Couldn’t he go be great somewhere else?

Instead of replying and subsequently dragging out this conversation longer than necessary, you busied yourself with adjusting your swim cap and bringing your goggles to rest on the bridge of your nose.

It didn’t matter that Jungkook was here. It didn’t bother you one bit. It’s not like it was abnormal. You’d known him longer than you’d known anybody so of course you were used to his presence. Although you didn’t particularly like the fact that you’d known him almost your whole life. Or the fact that your body prickled with awareness every time he stepped into the nearest vicinity. You couldn’t control that. What you could control though, was how you felt about it.

And right now, you hated him. Wait, no hate was too strong a word, perhaps vehemently despise was more fitting.

You make your way to lane five, take a deep breath to calm your nerves and then dunk yourself into the ice cold water. Better to get it over with than squirm around the edges with him around. For Zelda’s sake, he has his phone camera on standby!

Yeah okay, you didn’t hate Jeon Jungkook; the son of a family friend that lived on the other side of the cul de sac. Instead, you vehemently despised the boy that was a walking, talking human critic. You bite your lip ferociously in a bid to punish the thought of Jungkook out of your mind. After a second or maybe three, you push into the water.

“Your shoulders look tense from up here... you’re so not gonna perform well if you don’t stretch that baby out.”

That’s the first thing you hear other than the rushing of water leaving your ears as your face breaks out against the surface of the pool. You jerk your goggles off your eyes, look up and scowl at him. Mr. I-Should-Basically-Be-A-Coach-With-All-These-Pointers-I-Give.

“I am not tense.”

“Yeah, no. You don’t have to lie about that. I could legit see your muscles almost cramping up down there.”

“Are you really going to stand up there and pretend we have some kind of mentor-mentee relationship going on? Seriously? It’s five in the morning, Jeon.”

You could clearly see the wheels in his head turning and then zeroing in on the one word you shouldn’t have said. Relationship. Gah, you need a chastity belt for your lips. His eyes basically sparkle with rays of mischief and a dash of mastered superiority. “Well, I am seven months older, so when you think about it that way it’s only natural that I take you under my wing and —”

“I swear to you, I will physically break your knee caps —”

“Wait,” he looks genuinely confused, perfect lips pouting. “What do you mean by physically? Is there any other way to break a knee?”

Ugh! You stare at him and he stares right back, cocking his head to the side like he can do this all day. You want to scream, hell maybe even shapeshift into a fucking banshee and scream the roof off this building.

And then his mouth curves into a roguish smirk. The type he reveals when he manages to squeak by a better time than you or like that one time (okay maybe five?) that he got randomly stopped by some modeling agency recruiter when your parents had forced the two of you to carpool to swim meets back when you were a tad younger and he was the only one with a car. The smirk that just screams ‘I’m getting under your skin, aren’t I? And dude, it feels fan-fucking-tastic.’

“Get a life, Jeon. Or better yet, get in the water. It’s only been three weeks, no way you suck even worse than usual after that. I mean, by fuck, it hasn’t even been a month!” You twist his words back at him and then feel proud about it. So what, you are competitive and you hold grudges. There could be worse things.

His smirk deepened and okay, you won’t lie to yourself. He is attractive. Critically so. It would be hard not to notice that. It’s a continual and conscious effort to even attempt to un-notice it. But still, moments like these when the fluorescent lights beamed on his face at just the right angle and the shadows cut across his features and illuminated his golden skin to the heavens, boosting his overall aura like he was some sort of reincarnated god of beauty. Or worse, a Final Boss that you had to most certainly defeat. It became increasingly hard not to notice how much he affected you and your breathing.

Yeah, it’s in these moments that your better judgement faults and for a split second you are transported to that one November night in the middle of eleventh grade when fuck no! Absolutely not! You refuse to walk that horrendous trip down memory lane and relive one of the most humiliating, and this is coming from a girl that threw up because of nerves in front of judges at a talent show, experiences of your life. This was not the time.

“Your shoulders are still stiff as a board. Tell me, child, have you gotten laid recently?”

You let out the most frustrated sound of agony you could muster. You’re going to murder him. Forget you being the star in some crazy horror film, you were going to be the director. And you were gonna serve up a mean case of Deck Jungkook’s Ass With Supernatural Intervention as the main course. Maybe you’d win an Oscar for it. Heck, maybe you’d get a home run and even win Best Picture.

He chuckles like he’s cracked the greatest joke since Netflix Original Films. You’re too busy orchestrating a slugfest in your head to really pay attention. “I’ll take that as a negative.”

You barely manage to spit out a dignified response. “One of these days I’m going to seriously maim you.”

“Tsk tsk, you and your threatening bodily harm tendencies. I wonder if that’s like a kink thing?” He asks as he taps his chin with his forefinger and squats down to a level that is closer to you. His dark brown hair that looks almost a shade of black sways like a river to his beat. This is much better, it hurt your neck staring up at him like he was some guardian deity.

But the action happens to highlight the ridiculous tightening of his abs. The abs you’ve painstakingly not ogled at because they are sculpted beauties. Hell, you’ve yet to meet a swimmer's body that isn’t the epitome of fitness but Jungkook’s is different. He is carved. Probably why you don’t like looking at it, stare too much and he might notice and of course, you wouldn’t want that happening.

“Jeon?”

“Hmm?” He sounds so innocent. The liar.

“Shut up before I drown you. I don’t care how long you can hold your breath. I will send you down to hell personally.”

He wiggled his eyebrows like the concept of hell was all he’d ever wanted to discuss in life. “Does that mean you’d be coming with? Fascinating. Let’s make a road trip out of it. Maybe you’ll even find some demons down to fuck all that tension out of your body. You know, DDTF. Get your exophilia on, if that’s your thing.”

Exo-what?

Beat. He’s beaten you at your own game. How the heck are you supposed to reply something snarky when all he ever does is blow the thing to epic proportions and have you running in circles. This is why the best strategy was just to simply ignore him.

You shoot him one last look that you hope is as menacing as it ought to be. You yank your goggles from resting on your forehead and dunk them in the water to get the fog out. Placing it back gingerly across your eyes, you let take in a soothing breath.

“I am serene. I am calm. There is nothing around me in existence that bothers me. I am the pinnacle of collected.” You refrain from adding tense-free.

There’s no way you’re tense after running the three and a half miles between your dorm and the swim center. You repeat the words aloud twice before you actually believe them. And then you tear back into the water. You still have roughly thirty minutes before the rest of the team comes in for practice. You’ll be damned spending all your time talking to the fool with shaggy hair and a crooked smile that made you want to burn something.

The only sound other than the whoosh in your ears and the rapid pumping of your heart as you exert yourself is the uncanny, blistering laughter of Jeon Jungkook. At least someone was enjoying your torment.

You swore at that moment that you were going to deck him someday. Even if it was the last thing you ever did. Maybe not even physically, gah, but you were going to get a time so fast, so unbelievably better that Jungkook would be dumbstruck in awe and lagging to catch up. You grin at the thought.

   By the time practice comes to an end, your knee has migrated from a troublesome ache to a colossal titan. Dragging your body out of the water proves to be much a greater task that you previously took for granted. You try and fail to hold back your groans as you attempt to not limp back to the locker rooms and take a shower. Also, you need a painkiller stat.

The coach is too busy being circled by the hyena pack that is freshmen to really pay any attention to you. However, you know better than to think you’ve slipped past his radar. He’s definitely going to catch you sometime later to rim your ass for going too hard the first day of the semester. You guess that makes him a great coach in the grand scheme of things but you’d rather he let you be.

“Your knee acting up again?” Your lane buddy and a veteran senior in the program, Seokjin asks as he saddles up next to you and rips the navy blue swim cap off his head. You fear a little bit for his hair. “I thought doc cleared it?”

You sigh, not really wanting to remember last year when the university-affiliated doctor told you that you needed to take three months off swimming to heal and you’d barely lasted two weeks without going insane. You shiver at the horror of it all as you wrap your Legend of Zelda limited edition Link towel around your dripping body.

“Yeah, he did.” You send him a smile that comes off like a wince and then you give up on trying to downplay the pain altogether. “Guess it’s just not doing so hot today.”

Seokjin nods solemnly like he understands. “Some days are worse than others. I get that.”

“It be like that. I’ll be fine.”

“Do you think you’d be set for March though? Coach’s probably going to start analyzing his final picks for the comp.”

Ugh, Goddess of the Sea take me now! The National Collegiate Swim Competition is an annual event held every March and even though you’d made the cut as a naïve freshman, a knee injury caused you to be sidelined in your second year. But now though, you have to get on the final lineup. An absolute must.

Your cold heart won’t take it to be on the stands watching your teammates accomplish something you dreamed of. Something you’d worked and sacrificed so much for. You won’t stand to watch Jungkook rub it in your face how he’d come in a mere 0.6 seconds away from the first position. And you definitely won’t stand to have another year put on hold when your dream is literally right in front of you.

You bite out a laugh that sounds foreign even to your own ears. God, your knee is killing you. “You know what they say about pain.”

Seokjin gives you a quizzical look. Like he, in fact, has no idea what you mean. And you’re about to launch into a tirade about exercise mottos when you feel a tall presence step up behind you. You don’t even have to turn around to know it’s him. Of course, it’s him. Who else would encroach in on your personal space without a second thought?

“She means she’s gonna push through her limping and her tense as fuck shoulders and pull a win out of her ass. Don’t you,” the way he says your name is so patronizing, so unbelievably condescending that you whip your head up to glare at him.

“That’s impossible. If anyone knows how to take care of their body and not push their limits to insanity it’s Y/N.” Seokjin appears appalled that Jungkook would even think of such a thing. But Jungkook knows you better than anyone, albeit hatefully.

“Mm-hm. You doubt how crazy obsessed she is with winning.”

“Says you,” you spit out but it lacks your usual snark.

In truth, maybe Jungkook was right about your shoulders not being as stretched out as they should’ve been. They feel sore and they almost gave out on you during a lap. You were basically running on guts and mental fortitude for the last four laps. But you’d rather swallow butcher knives than admit that aloud for his ears to hear.

Seokjin is oblivious to the simmering tension between the two of you. Instead, he turns to you with so much concern sweeping through his posture it makes you uncomfortable and yet happy at the same time. “Take care of yourself, Y/N. There’s no point in winning if your body crashes on you, yeah?”

You know he means well and it’s not like you like lying to your senior but you know he just won’t get where you’re coming from. “Yeah,” you stare down at the suddenly interesting aqua-tiled floor.

He pats your shoulder once before he turns down the other way to the male locker rooms leaving you and Jungkook alone. You’re about to go on your own merry way — agonizingly slow of course, when a hand latches to your upper arm and stops you.

You swear you shouldn’t feel anything but your skin almost scorches at the contact. Your brain is divided: a part of you wants him to never let go, while the other half can’t get away from him fast enough. You don’t breathe, heck you don’t even move.

“Winning isn’t everything.”

You don’t mean to — truly, you don’t — but a scoff slips out of your lips before you even register it. “Coming from the golden boy that basically has a clear shot at making the lineup? Yeah, I won’t drink to that anytime soon.”

Jungkook uses his free hand to run through his hair like a maniac. And you entertain the idea that perhaps you really do get under his skin as much as he does you. The thought elates you and dilutes the throbbing in your knee to a lesser degree. He’s your biggest tormentor and you can only dream to be the same thing for him. Equivalent exchange and all that jazz.

He clicks his tongue at you and somehow that infuriates you even more. “You know what? Do whatever you want. Ruin your body for all I care.” He lets go of your arm like it’d be painful to hold it any longer. He pulls at the towel he has around his shoulders so hard that even you feel the burn and then he drapes it over his head, effectively blocking you out.

A forgotten part of you wonders why he’s so concerned about your body anyway. It’s not like he should care at all.

The two of you aren’t friends. Once upon a time that wasn’t the case but you aren’t one to cry over spilled milk much less bemoan over it. But it still rubs you some kind of way that Jungkook thinks it’s normal to voice his concern to you. The two of you are not close like that. At least, not anymore.

You scowl to yourself as you weave your way back to the locker room. You’re not much of a talker but you wave back at a few of the girls that bother to look your way. And spend a good ten minutes talking to a freshman about how she needs to stop holding her breath for long periods because all that does is make you dizzy and liable to pass out. After all that, it’s no wonder that you’re the last one out of the showers.

Tugging your baby blue beanie tight across your forehead, you curse yourself for forgetting to pack your knee brace when you left your dorm this morning. But whatever, you’ll push through it. You always do.

What you’re not expecting is to see a lithe body resting on the bench right outside the swim center.  And it strikes you as odd that you immediately know in your gut that it’s Jungkook. Even though you’re too chicken now to admit it, there was a time when you’d engraved his whole body into your mind like he was a science project you were desperately in need of completing. Although his body has since gained more muscle mass and reduced way more body fat, it’s still him. No matter how hard you try to burn him out of your memory, he never leaves. You fear your only remedy might be self-induced amnesia.

What you’re not expecting is for that body clad snugly in black sweatpants, a really oversized navy sweatshirt that has ‘I AM NOT GONNA BE MERCY’ branded in fine print across his chest, and a beanie that suspiciously matches the one on your own head, to turn up and catch your gaze like he knows you’ve been staring.

You blink once and then twice and then once more just to be sure. Weird. You have no idea why he’s waiting out here and you’re even more confused as to why he owns a beanie that looks way too much like yours to be a coincidence. You shift your gaze to the sidewalk, debating if it’s worth it to strike a conversation with him. All it will do is leave you irritated, so you decide to continue to your dorm instead. Screw him and whatever he’s out in this cold as shit weather for.

“What? You’re just gonna ignore me now?”

Huffing, you pretend he’s not matching his strides to your sluggish pace.

“This is cold, even for you.”

Maybe if you keep quiet he’ll think you’ve gone magically inept in the span of forty minutes?

“You know I thought I was doing a good thing by waiting for you.”

That gets you to break your mental battle. “I didn’t ask you to do that, Jeon.”

“I know that. But what if you slid across the pavement and went straight to the dimension of hell? I have to be there for that.” He sounds genuinely invested in the matter at hand.

“I can still walk perfectly fine, thank you very much.” You almost smack your head dead against the stoned ground when your foot snags a loose edge of the sidewalk. Fuck.

“Pfft.” He’s barely holding in his laughter but you don’t cower. Har-dee-har-har. You don’t need him breathing down your neck thinking he’s doing you a favor or anything.

You don’t need pity parties hosted by Jeon Jungkook. Not again. Not after that one night that you thought was perfect and monumental when in reality all it really was a blip in his radar. You’re nothing special, or at least Jungkook thought so. It’s been years since then but that’s the funny thing about pain. It doesn’t just die down because you refuse to think about it. It simmers, it boils, it festers. Pain is a living, breathing monster and simply because you don’t devote time to it doesn’t mean it’s not taking up space under your bed.

But you are not going to think about it. Because you are definitely over it. Yep. That was it. You are over your ex-best friend and you are happy... Bah, what-fucking-ever.

Maybe he realizes that you’re not in the mood for the snark he would normally throw your way because the walk back to your dorm is relatively quiet after that. This is the most civil the two of you have been in a long while. Most of times the both of you are too busy making jabs at each other. But you’d noticed that ever since your accident last year that busted your knee, he’s been different.

You’ve yet to decide if that difference is for good or bad but it doesn’t matter because you’re back at your dormitory which means you get to sleep the rest of the day before work. Yes, maybe there is a God.

“Look, take care of yourself, okay?”

You stop on the stone steps to take him in. His hands stuffed deep in his pockets, the January chill making the tip of his nose bright red but his eyes don’t hold the same mischievous fight as before. He’s determined. You know him well enough to know that.

“I’m not going to die climbing up some stupid stairs.”

He shakes his head. Guess he’s not up for jokes then. “I mean it,” he breathes your name out with so much seriousness it stuns you. “You can be cruel to me. You can be angry at me. But don’t take it out on your body. Just... don’t.”

What does he know about cruelty? He knows not jack shit about cruelty. Cruelty was a seventeen-year-old girl waxing poetic love to a boy that she thought hung the moon, the stars and the sun only for him to trample over it just because. Maybe it was the hormones, maybe it was the timing, maybe it was every fucking thing in between but that night had been a changing point. Horror movies weren’t half as scary as being rejected by your best friend since before you were five and not know why. Cruelty was not whatever this limbo you and Jungkook had. You’d experienced cruelty and that was far worse.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do. Not then and certainly not now.”

Pushing your body to its limits is something you have to do. Getting better at swimming is something you would die trying to attain. Not because you particularly love swimming all that much but rather because it’s the one thing, the only thing that you really do believe you can beat Jungkook in. The only thing you can compete with him and with hard work win. You have to win. You can’t stand being second place next to him. It makes you want to gag. It makes you revert back to that seventeen-year-old girl you thought you’d killed off in your origin story.

Pathetic, you think to yourself. But you won’t stop because you’ve already come so far.

You rush up the stairs and into the dorm like lightning. You’re so quick that you don’t even feel any twinge of pain ricocheting from your knee or anywhere else to be honest. You’re a running painkiller. You haul ass all the way to your room and it’s only when you’ve locked the door and released the longest sigh of your whole adult life that it hits you.

And here’s another thing about pain: it always comes rushing back.

If it’s even possible, over the next few weeks your knee becomes even worse of a problem. Waking up in the morning becomes more of a drag than usual, you can barely walk to your classes much less the swim center without your brace on and then perform a Mission Impossible skit so that the rest of the team doesn’t see the brace dangling in your locker. You’re seriously considering ripping the whole joint out. For Zelda’s sake, it has to hurt significantly less, right?

To make matters worse you’re basically lying out of your ass to Seokjin and the rest of the team that your knee is not bothering you one bit. You’re such a liar, someone needs to lock you up for it. But it’s already the end of February and you can already taste the end of it all. All you need to do is hold on by the skin of your teeth for the next couple of days and then you’ll be free. Sure, rationally you know you’re not swimming your best right now but that does nothing to deter you from what you’ve set your mind on.

“Hey, Y/N,” the voice of the Student Assistant, Namjoon stops you in your attempt to blend in with the other swim members exiting the building after a rather rough day. “You came in later than usual today. Something up?”

Namjoon is an amazing guy. Attentive but not too overbearing. A great listener but he doesn’t go overboard with trying to get you to confess your deep, darkest fears to him. But even with knowing all of this, you still don’t want to tell him a thing. You know he’ll understand, that’s not the problem. The problem is, he would seriously blow it out of proportion. All you want to do is head home, nap for a good hour or three and then head to your afternoon class and get back to crashing. Was that too much to ask?

“Yeah, I’m great. Just a little tired.”

He raises an eyebrow at you, flipping through the sheet on his clipboard. “Hmm, your times been dropping since last week. You sure everything’s fine?”

Fuck. You fumble thinking of an answer, your eyes skittering around the tiled floor till you look up and lock on Jungkook staring right back. He’s a few feet away near the front door discussing with one of the assistant coaches but for some reason, his big, brown eyes are glued to your frame. An inane section of your brain wants to beg him to come over and rescue you from lying so horribly to Namjoon. While another insane part of you wants to sneer at him and tell him to stop freaking looking at you when you’re at your worst.

“I... uh,” you stutter and return your attention back to the kind senior in front of you. “I’m fine. I promise.”

Namjoon cocks an eyebrow at you, disbelieving. “Is it your knee? We could get the team doctor — ”

Your eyes widen in alarm and you stumble away from him, your thoughts passing the point of loudness and encroaching into deafness. No way. There’s no way you’re going to let him bring up your injury and then take it up with the other coaches because you know — deep in your bones — that if he does that you won’t make the cut for the lineup talk less of being able to just attend practice. You’d be kept on the side like an invalid.

Hate.

You hate it. Your stupid knee, the stupid way you were running late to practice almost a full year ago and then proceeded to fall down a flight of stairs and dislocate your knee so bad that when the seasons shift from sunny to cloudy, your knee throbs like an ingrained weather alert.

You hate how much the pain makes you want to cry. You hate yourself for pushing yourself, even more, when you know you shouldn’t. You hate how everyone is so damn concerned about you like you somehow deserve it. You hate that you don’t deserve their kindness, not when every other athlete next to you is getting better and better by the second and you don’t want to be left behind.

“Bro, she’ll be fine.” You don’t realize your savior and yet tormentor has weaseled his way into the conversation until you you hear the soft timbre of his voice. He stands so close to you that you smell the sweet scent of vanilla from his clothes. “I mean, look at her. Her technique is still kicking ass, no one can touch her when it comes to form.”

Lips wobbling a little under the pressure of your teeth, you peer up at him. Your mind running a mile a minute trying to place what his endgame is. Why is he here? What does he think he’s doing?

Namjoon laughs, his features becoming even more stunning with the action and you glance away from Jungkook. There’s no way he bought that blatant form of flattery. “That is true. Y/N has the best technique in the program right now. Probably best in the state.”

Lies. You know there’s talk about some super senior at a neighboring powerhouse school being the best in your division. But your mind is clogged up with your loud thoughts that you don’t say anything to refute his claim.

“Anyways, let me know if you need anything, ‘Kay?” Namjoon demands your attention. “Take it easy and rest up this weekend.”

You nod profusely and Namjoon smiles at the action like your adorable. You frown at that. And then he’s gone and you’re stuck with Jungkook and the thoughts clamoring around in your head.

“I didn’t need you to save me. Or lie for me.”

“Sure,” he says but his eyes say something different. That maybe if you really didn’t want his help you shouldn’t have looked at him like a deer in headlights practically begging the floor to swallow you up. “And I wasn’t lying. You do have a better technique.”

You roll your shoulders, ignoring the praise. “Seriously. I was fine.”

“Fine my ass,” he mutters, pushing past your body and heading outside the door.

“I didn’t need your help and I don’t owe you —” The frigid air whips across your cheeks so hard that you have to stop and close your eyes for a beat. When you peel them back open you find Jungkook looking down at you without something akin to disappointment swimming in his eyes. “What?”

He stares at you for what seems like an eternity. You try not to break away from his gaze but your eyes skittle across his outfit. The beanie on his head that outrageously still looks similar to the one you have on, his grey padded jacket and a similar shade of sweatpants. And by the time your eyes reach back to his face, his focus has diverted to glaring needles at your knee.

“What?” You repeat, this time though you’re whispering like you might not like what he will say next.

“I don’t get it. You of all people know how horrible last year was. Why are you doing this to yourself?”

You suck in a deep breath, not wanting to relive your sophomore year. “Why do you care?”

“Why?” Jungkook practically stutters at the question, his already big doe eyes transforming into the size of craters. “Are you trying to prove something? To who? Me?”

“I don’t care about you, Jeon. And I don’t need to prove any single thing to you. You’re dead to me.”

“You think that by carrying this invisible burden and pushing yourself to the point of borderline insanity you’re going to get better? That you won’t burnout? That somehow you’re going to get back at me? After you’ve ruined your knee and not only ruined your chances at swimming competitively ever again but just in general? You think you’d finally feel like you’ve served me a hot plate of revenge?”

There’s no reason for him to be able to see right through you so easily. There’s no reason for him to know how stupid this whole thing is and how really the only one suffering is you. Always you. Only you. Alone.

Jungkook’s face twists into a vision of pain and you’re stunned into silence. It’s like you can tell how much your disregard for your own body is affecting him when it shouldn’t. He’s your self-proclaimed enemy that was once your friend. You shouldn’t feel like you’re hurting him more than yourself.

You don’t even feel the lone tear that slips past your walls and slides down your cheek until he moves closer and uses a smooth thumb to wipe it away. Dammit, you’re better than this.

“Not everything is about you, Jungkook.” But right now it is. For you, it is.

He nods his head once. The pain that was painted on his face morphing into something you can’t discern but his thumb doesn’t lift from your face. Instead, the rest of his fingers cradle the side of your face like they’re protecting you. You inflate at the action. After several seconds, they’re gone.

“I should go,” he states matter-of-factly.

Don’t, you want to say but the words live and die in your throat You know if you start you’d say too much. “Yeah.”

Even though you want him to make up some silly excuse as to why he has to walk you home. Like maybe you’d slip and knock yourself into the netherworld. He does nothing of that sort. He puffs out his cheeks; resembling a bunny, and then he sends you a wary smile that doesn’t reach his eyes.

For the first time in ages, you don’t like the sight of his retreating back. For the first time in a long time, you don’t even have the energy to pledge eternal damnation to Jeon Jungkook. All you want to do is ask him why. Why were you not enough? Why did he hand you back your heart when all you wanted was for him to keep it. And why did he suddenly do a one-eighty in college, resorting to snide comments and remarks that make you boil but also instill air into your lungs like you are finally breathing again? Why does it seem like he still cares?

You’re on a mission to drown out everything that has to do with Jeon Jungkook. You don’t like that he has created a rupture in your stratosphere. You don’t like that you’re realizing that you’ve been waging a war but not against Jungkook like you’d originally perceived. Now now that you think about it, when has he really been a rival? You’ve really only been fighting yourself.

The two of you aren’t even in the same category. You don’t even specialize in the same swimming techniques. And now that you’re seriously going through it, has he ever really been conceited about getting better times? All he ever did was point out things you were doing off and even though you hated it, it wasn’t like he was lying.

You’re one step away from your dorm when your phone buzzes with a flurry of text messages. It’s from the swim team group chat for juniors and seniors.

Taehyung: It’s the weekend mi amigos *dancing emoji*

Vivian: whatever you’re thinking... it’s gonna be a no! from me! also i thought u were sick?

Taehyung: aw come on i havent even said anything yet

Taehyung: not! sick! it was just the flu

Seokjin: flu is a sickness, no?

Vivian: im so tired dudes,, im not going out with y’all to get smashed

Nathan: im down

Taehyung: yes!!!!

Taehyung: guys i promise! you’ll love me for it. a friend of a friend is hosting a party on Greek row. Let’s GO!!

Vivian: it’s not like we’re the only friends you have. ask someone else dude

Before you even think about it, you’re typing a response.

You: I’ll come. We don’t have training tmr so...

Taehyung: OMFG

Nathan: i had no idea you were in the chat lol

Vivian: rude. if y/n’s going then maybe she’ll keep Tae’s head on straight

Seokjin: don’t know if JK’s down but I’ll drag him out if I have to.

You: don’t do that.

Taehyung: why? don’t you guys have that whole foreplay thing going on or?????

You: WHAT

Vivian: wait i might come after all

Seokjin: Tae, leave it alone.

Taehyung: okay but it’s not my fault they both barely look at anyone other than themselves during practice. i can’t be the only one that noticed them basically eye-fucking each other all day everyday

Nathan: i second that

Vivian: ... sorry, y/n. but i third that

Seokjin: GUYS. if she leaves the chat because y’all can’t keep your mouth shut istg,,

Nathan: wait is jungkook reading this?

God, how you want the whole universe to open up and swallow you whole. Your phone feels like a hot potato in your hands. You throw the wretched thing into the back of your jeans pocket and blink over and over again as you rush into your dorm and up the elevator.

It takes the rest of the day to calm your cheeks from splitting from humiliation or embarrassment, it’s a close tie. You don’t pay attention in class, you can barely nap without the words blinking at the back of your eyelids like neon target signs.

Foreplay? Foreplay?!

You almost spontaneously combust.

You hear the telltale sound of a key unlocking your dorm room door and you hightail out of the ensuite bathroom before you can even think.

“Foreplay?!” You all but scream at your roommate and fellow swim team member, Vivian.

At the very least she looks sheepish, smiling nervously as she pushes a piece of her coiled hair behind her ear. “I thought you knew. I mean, everyone talks about it.”

“What about me wanting to rip his ass from his hole screams foreplay to anyone?!”

She shrugs, her lilac sweater falling down one brown shoulder. “I don’t know, it’s kinda sexy.” She drops her backpack on the only sofa and turns back to you. “He’s the only one you really talk to in the team so, everyone just kinda assumed y’all were either a has-been or a to-be couple.”

Wheezing, you lock your arms defiantly across your chest. “I don’t like him.”

“Yeah, okay.” Vivian laughs, unconvinced for some reason.

“I’m not kidding. He’s annoying. Always breathing down my neck like he’s my personal trainer or something. Any time I do a thing it’s like he has to say something in response, you know. I don’t hate him but I don’t... I don’t like like him.”

“Do you think he’s attractive?”

“Everyone does.”

She smirks at you like she’s caught you dead in a trap. “And you?”

You bite your lip. It’s not worth the hassle to lie. “A little bit. A teeny-tiny bit.”

“What about him do you think is attractive? And don’t mention his thighs because we all know those are in a different league of their own.”

That gets a laugh out of you. Vivian’s mouth widens at the sound. You realize then that maybe, just maybe, you’ve been hoarding things in for too long. And you appreciate Vivian because she’s always been nice and has tolerated your one-worded answers and four am showers like a champ. You want to give her an award or something.

You lean against the wall and think about her question. “Well, in a way his nagging and pushing my buttons can be seen as being attentive? I mean, he notices things about me that I don’t. And I’ve been… thinking that maybe he’s not really all that bad like I conjured up in my head.” More than that, before everything turned to shit, you thought he was the kindest, funniest person in the galaxy.

“Well, I’m no team Jungkook,” she snickers at her own Twilight reference and your lips tilt up as well. “And I won’t pretend to know what’s gone on between you and him. But whatever it is, maybe y’all just need to, like, talk it out.”

“I—”

Vivian shushes you. “You know I’m right.” She sashays to her room door and then turns back to you. “We’re going to go to Taehyung’s friend of a friend’s frat party and you’re gonna get the liquid courage to talk to him. I think everyone on the team would appreciate the whole sexual tension going on between the two of you finally being exiled into the cosmos.”

Cosmos?

You’re not really sure what happens after that. You let Vivian convince you to trade your comfortable sweatpants for an A-line skirt, tights and a stylish sweater that you’d bought on a whim. At least if you’re going to really say screw all and go for this party, you refuse to be a shivering mess.

Even though Greek Row is truly not that far from your dorm, you let Vivian drive the two of you over. She talks about everything and anything and it feels like it’s been forever since you hung out with anyone that wasn’t during scheduled practice and workout sessions.

Hell, what have you been doing for the last four years? Being obsessed with results that apparently your arch-nemesis doesn’t even care about?

Vivian tells you about the dude she’s dating and how he’s on the university’s volleyball team. You’re more surprised than you should be. You can’t believe you’ve been roommates with her for almost two years and you barely know anything about her other than surface-level shit. Oh, Zelda, this is one big bitch of an awakening.

“I’m sorry,” you say sincerely as she puts the car in park aways from the actual fraternity building. The entire street is blocked up with cars so it was hard to find any space. “For being here and yet not really at the same time.”

Thankfully, Vivian doesn’t make you sweat. “S’cool. Everyone’s got their own shit.”

“I’ve been really shitty lately.”

“Hmm, well, we can get drunk off our asses and feel really shitty together?” You decide then and there that she is amazing and only the devil will be able to pry this budding friendship out of your cold hands.

You find out that Vivian is very skilled at mixing drinks. It takes barely half an hour for you to start feeling a buzz and by your third round of whatever she stirs for you, you’ve straight up arrived at the land of Drunkenville: population; one. You’re busy debating with her and her boyfriend about how sports anime is simply the best branch of cinema to have ever been created and the one sub-genre that truly speaks about the resilience of the human spirit when you feel a heavy arm wrap around your shoulders.

“Y/N,” the voice all but screams in your ear. You hazily look up to see Taehyung’s chiseled face smiling down at you. And even your intoxicated self can tell that he’s pregamed the fuck out of this night already. “I brought lil Jungkookie for you. At first, he was all blah blah not going but when I said you were going to be here. Boi jumped like a fish in water.”

Taehyung laughs and you laugh with him, not really sure if you get the joke but happy nonetheless that he’s happy.

“‘Sup Viv and Viv’s boyfriend,” he salutes them and weirdly enough, Vivian’s boyfriend doesn’t take offense. He salutes back.

Vivian rolls her eyes but then she clasps two strong hands across your shoulders, effectively washing away the tipsy gaze from your eyes for a moment. “Now, listen. You’re going to find Jungkook and let him know how you really feel. Use all this liquid courage and let him have it. And you shouldn’t care that we’re at a party because almost everyone is drunk anyway.

And if that goes to shit and you want out of this place, don’t you dare even think of walking home, okay? You look for me. Don’t think I haven’t seen you limping your way across the dorm like a crazy bitch. I didn’t say anything because I didn’t have the right. But so help me, if you so much as think of walking back I will ... I don’t know what I will do but you won’t like it! So go find Jungkook and do us all a favor and end this eternal foreplay.”

Foreplay... that damned word again. It overrides your brain system and makes you think of things you shouldn’t want. But you’re stupidly confident right now. Hell, your knee hasn’t really been bothering you since you woke up from your nap. The alcohol in your blood is dancing to its own beat and it’s lighting your system on fire.

If not now then when?

You have a gazillion and one questions to ask Jungkook. Questions you’ve kept silenced and bottled down in your heart for years. Questions that keep you up at night. And maybe its because the last month and a half has made you question everything about yourself and your ethic and your predicament, you know you have to do this now.

Fuck it. Who cares if you become the source of this boorish party’s entertainment like a walking cliché? It’s not like you’d remember anything that happens here and you only know a handful of people. Embarrassment? You don’t know her. Not today.

You find him in the basement with a cup of something near his booted feet and his gleaming eyes transfixed on the TV in front of him. His tongue poking a hole in cheek. There’s a small crowd of people around him and you take one glance at the screen and see that he’s playing Super Smash. Of course. He looks beautiful like this. Different than the last time you saw him and better because he doesn’t have that look of agony coloring his eyes.

You could probably spend a whole day just looking at him. Taking in the man that’s grown from the boy you once knew and called your own. His body is a work of art and ought to be chiseled and crafted like the sculptures of the Renaissance era. If you were any good a sculptor, you would’ve done just that. Instead, you commit him to memory. Because even though it is possible that neither of you likes each other anymore, you want to remember this.

He looks perfect like this. Happy. Not distressed and sad like when you’d confessed to him. When you had laid your heart bare before him and he didn’t even react. You wish you could say he had pried your heart out of your hands and ripped it to shreds. But that wasn’t the case. Your heart hadn’t shattered by his blatant rejection. It had melted.  

You watch as his character, Link, of course, K.O’s his opponent and Player 2 Victory flashes on the television screen. He wins. Like always. You don’t feel mad like you usually do. Maybe you’ve finally accepted that there are just some things you can’t win no matter how steadfast and committed you are.

Jungkook looks up from his controller, pumping his fist in the air, his long, dark hair flopping around his face like a curtain. Your veins practically burst with electricity when his smiling eyes notice yours in the corner like you knew they would. The smile dims and you expect that. You’re not asking for a love to cure all epidemics or a lie to burn your body to ash. You just want to move on. To finally escape the purgatory you’ve put yourself in.

“We need to talk,” you try to say as loud as you can but the cheers and conversations of the people around you drown you out.

Somehow in someway, he hears you and nods his head. Maybe he’s a glutton for pain like you. He scoots out of the loveseat, standing to his full height and making pleasant excuses to his newly acquired friends that you don’t know. Maybe it’s the fake courage but you don’t take your gaze away from him. You’re going to do this. You have to — you suck in a huge breath — you must.

Once he steps into your bubble of personal space, the rest of the world fizzles out.

“This is a bundle of firsts, Ice Queen. You? At a party and instigating a conversation with me first? Damn, did you get a taste of hell without me videoing?”

“You always joke about everything,” you decide to bite the bullet. “I used to find that really cute.”

Alcohol o’ alcohol, why hath thou forsaken me? You almost look up to the heavens and question what possessed you to drink so much but then you rehear Vivian’s speech in your head and you find your resolve and strangle it.

Jungkook’s eyebrows fly up like he’s not quite prepared for this. “Wait, what are you... Are you drunk right —”

“I’m not good with words. And I’ve always sucked at speaking my mind and being thoughtful and generally being a good person. Like you,” you smile sadly when you remember the first time you ever made a friend; the boy in front of you that had offered you to come over sometime and play his GameCube with him when his older siblings were too busy to hang with him. “I’m passive at best when it comes to anything that’s not swimming. And even that, you got me into it. You were the reason I started it. You know this, I would’ve rather died than engage in anything that made me exert energy. But you made it fun until I genuinely loved it.”

“That’s not,” Jungkook shakes his head adamantly. “That’s—”

You shoot him a look. “Let me finish okay? I have this whole thing in my head and ... please, just let me say it.”

You hadn’t realized the curious looks the people around had been shooting your way until you see Jungkook scowl at any and every one before he intertwines your hands with his and pulls you out of the basement in a swift motion. You don’t mind the giddy feeling enveloping your chest at the sight of your fingers wrapped around each other. A part of you actually loves how cocooned it makes you feel. You want to bottle this feeling up and bathe in it.

He must be overfamiliar with the frat house because he leads you expertly into a room at the end of the hallway on the first floor. He shuts the door and then locks it. For a minute, he stares at your locked hands and you wonder if he feels the same pull you do. If he’s ever felt the same pull you do.

“When I handed you my heart and my everything, why didn’t you want it? Why did you act like I had committed a grievous crime against you and your glorious self?”

There. You’ve gone and said the thing. The biggest question that has plagued your mind for months and years. If your best friend didn’t even find value in you then really, was there any to begin with?

Jungkook lets out a heavy sigh that careens his shoulders down as if he’s carrying the weight of the world. A sigh so deep that it shakes his body from the vibrations visible through his black tee, and crashes into your soul. He closes his eyes for his barely a second but you wish he’d just spit it out. Pour acid on your wounds so you can feel the fire of a thousand suns and finally, fucking finally move on. Baptism by fire they call it but what you want is a goddamn exorcism.

“You thought I shat gold and that I hung the moon and that I was this perfect person when I’m not. I mean, have you listened to yourself? You think you’re a bad person because all you’ve ever done is compare me to you. But it was you and me. Not either or.

You think I really love swimming when you’re not the one egging me on? Pushing me to be better? You think I would’ve let you confess your magnificent love for me and then accept it when every sentence you said contrasted you from me. Pitted you against me? I’m competitive, you’re competitive but I didn’t think you needed competition when it came to that. You’d already won. And then I had this crazy stupid idea that maybe just being friends with you would work. I mean, love isn’t something you need to fight yourself bloody and dead for. Why would I accept this really amazing love from someone that was going to feel less than me and feel like shit for it?”

“So, what were you gonna do? Just wait till I up and decided that I was insecure and didn’t have a major inferiority complex I had no idea about?” Your sober thoughts vomit out of your mouth with impressive speed.

“I was still your friend,” Jungkook almost yells and out of his aggravation, his hands slip out of yours. The loss is staggering. He jabs his index finger into his chest. “I did everything I could do to still be your friend. But you wouldn’t talk to me. And I get that we were sixteen and there were so many ways we could’ve done better but you shut me out.”

“No, I…” You begin to say but the words die in your mouth.

Truth be told, you did shut him out. It wasn’t like you blocked him on every site. But when he tried to talk to you at school, you pretended he wasn’t there. When he stopped over at your place, you told your parents that you were sick and to keep him out. When he sent party invites on the gaming platforms the two of you shared a love for, you ignored them and turned off your console. But it wasn’t like you did all of this out of spite to begin with. It was just easier.

You were hurt. Seeing him brought on multiple feelings of shame, embarrassment, and pain all wrapped snugly like a demonic burrito. And he was your best friend, it wasn’t like you didn’t have other friends you could’ve asked for advice but the one person you wanted to talk to was the one person you couldn’t reach out to. So you didn’t think about it. Instead, you threw yourself headfirst into freezing ass water and worked your butt off with the one thing you had left.

And contrary to what Jungkook believes, he made you feel good about yourself. Like an anchor. You didn’t have to hide your nerdiness between a cold exterior so as to not get teased about it. With him, you were free. Like he was a sun that burned a path that enabled you to breathe easy. To be yourself so that you wouldn’t drown.

“You think I really go around joking with every bum on the swim team about Down To Fuck Demons for hire or that I walk every person with a rubbish knee home in fucking negative degree weather? Or that I worry about everyone that’s throwing their whole future away over a rivalry that doesn’t even exist? You think I’ve been playing the role of a pest around you because I hate you? —”

“Vehemently despise,” you choke on your words but your sense of seriousness causes Jungkook to burst into a staccato of quick muted laughter.

“Y/N,” he whispers your name like it’s a thing of beauty. And maybe it is. Right now you think so. “Firstly, I was dumb and I thought if I left things as they were maybe you’d realize how fucking awesome you were without me. But then all you ever did was practice and practice like you were training for an aquatics mafia or some shit. And then I realized that maybe you’re not the only one that sucks with words and when to say them. I should’ve told you that I did love you. Platonically. Romantically. And you made me feel great and not because you were less than but rather because being with you meant that I was my best self.”

You feel a cascade of water flooding down your cheeks like a waterfall but you don’t release a sound and you don’t really care about it because this moment feels sacred. Because you’re not crying out of pain or agony or longing. Rather it’s because you finally understand.

“You were like the sun and you were so blinding that I thought I would incinerate if I was still next to you like nothing happened.”

“Ha,” Jungkook scoffs, using a palm to run across his face. Then he squints his eyes at you like he’s seeing you anew for the first time. “If I’m the sun then you are —”

“The sun eater.” The words fly out of your mouth with ease. Quoting your fave anime characters was a thing the two of you had done relentlessly for days, heck, years.

Jungkook nods his head, elated that you remember like there was ever a time you’d forget My Hero Academia. “I’m not gonna apologize for not accepting your confession back then. I can’t. Not when I genuinely think neither of us knew what the fuck we were doing back then. Still don’t.”

“And I’m not going to say sorry for pulling away from you. I mean, I’m not a masochist.”

He lets out a throaty laugh that washes your insides clean. And you give a watery smile back, feeling soberer than you did a couple hours ago. You bet you look worse for wear but you don’t care because you’re done not pretending.

“Why did it take four years for me to...” your voice chokes and you almost break down right then and there. But your stubbornness is a thing of pride. “For us to finally talk about it. It would’ve made so much more sense if we had just talked and now I feel like I’ve wasted four years of my life being angry? Feeling discarded? But it’s not like that at all.”

Jungkook’s smooth yet experienced hands cradle the sides of your face and the overflowing tears pool in the flesh that connects his thumbs to your skin. “Friends fight all the time.”

You snort and he grins. “Most friends aren’t half as dumb as us.”

“You got that right. I think dumbness is attractive.” He says with an overflowing aura of achievement. “This just means we’ll just have to spend more time making up for it.” He dips his head down till his lips brush the tip of your ear. “And by the way, I think I’m done being your friend exclusively,” he says.

“Yeah?” You ask and for an inane reason, you smile even harder because the tears on your face feel like rain. And you’re still breathing easier, albeit a tad bit faster. But there’s no crash and burn after you’ve soared too close to the sun. Unlike before your heart feels like it’s glowing instead of charring.

“I think I want to take you out on a date.”

Your eyes widen with faux-horror. “Just one?”

“Oh my Zelda, can I at least finish my grand speech?” He rolls his eyes. “As I was saying, it won’t be one date but you know that kinda depends on if you’re still god at Fortnite. I mean, partying up is basically the same as marriage, you know?”

“Kook?”

“Yeah?”

“Your inner nerd is showing.”

Jungkook sputters loudly, the action making his hair swish across his forehead and his hands drop from your face. “Oh, forgive me. I thought you loved my nerdiness.”

“Love,” you correct him. “Present tense.”

His mouth practically breaks even with the floor with how wide he’s gaping. You haven’t sprouted a second head, have you?

You clear your throat, attempting to be blasé about the whole thing. “Well, if we’re really going to pursue this whole dating thing then I have to be honest, right? I think it’s quite sexy how knowledgeable you are about gaming and stuff even though we’re like hardcore athletes.”

“So I’m like an onion? Three dimensional? The more you get to know me, the more you love how I’m not like Other Guys trademark sign?”

You guffaw so hard you almost start crying all over again. “Oh my Zelda, we were having a moment. Why did you ruin our moment?”

“Think I can make up for it.” He looks at you with something akin to competition and licks his lips.

Your eyes falter at the action, zeroing in on them. Suddenly the distance between yours and his feels like a crime against humanity. It’s comical really, how the temperature of your body can fly from ice cold to a blazing inferno in less than minutes.

“Fuck,” you whisper.

“As you wish.”

Jungkook bends his lips to connect with yours in a swift motion. You’re surprised but a part of you must have anticipated it because you are pushing deeper into him as quickly as humanly possible. His arms snake across your waist, his hands landing squarely on your ass and his groan eliciting a magnitude of butterflies in the pit of your stomach as his tongue danced an infinite tango with yours. Smoothly, he backs you up until you feel your head tap a wall for support.

Holy crap shit. Your mind is a mess. No wait, your mouth is a mess. A warped sense of dizziness floods through your body and it has nothing to do with the alcohol you consumed earlier and everything to do with the sensuous teeth nipping at your bottom lip while his hands deftly squeeze your ass. Fuck, you can’t breathe. You don’t want to breathe. You cling unto his shoulders for stability and revel at how corded they feel under your touch.

He tears his lips away from yours, breathless, resting his forehead against yours. “God, you’re gonna be the death of me.”

“You can’t die until we get to the part where we role-play as demon and a naive spell caster.” You’re out of breath as well because that kiss was something else. Divine, maybe.

“I get to be the demon though, right?”

You grin at that. “Of course. I’m not a heathen.”

This time you kissed him, pushing all thoughts of future escapades further away from your mind and focusing on the beautiful man in front of you. Reaching up, you dig your hands through Jungkook’s abundant hair and moan. You understand then what it must have been like for Icarus to fly off to the sun. It must have scorched his skin to death within seconds, and yet at the same time, it must have been oh so slow. And you doubt he despaired because in the end he was heading home and he was finally not alone. You understand so well because the more the fire in your veins expands, the more you come close to burning up entirely. And you love it. You’re losing all control and you don’t care because he’s losing his alongside you.

Everything turns into a mess of frenzied motions. Him reluctantly removing a hand from your ass to reach up and use his fingers to clasp around your throat and position it just right enough for him to latch his lips there and suck. hard. When he pulls away from you to admire his handiwork, the lopsided grin on his face almost sends you into another need to kiss him.

“I’m not gonna fuck you at a frat party when only Zelda knows how many losers have cummed on a singular bedsheet,” he announces without remorse.

“Fair enough.”

“But I am going to do very wicked things to you that’ll loosen up those shoulders to the point of being supple. And after that, you’re gonna promise me that we’ll go get your knee checked out later.”

A few hours you would’ve kicked and screamed at the idea of anything derailing your plan of getting on the lineup for the competition. You thought that admitting you need help meant that you were quitting. Punishing yourself for something so irrevocably at out of your control. Now though, you nod your head drowsily. You hate the doctors but you hate self-destructing even more. Especially now when you have someone that hurts when you hurt.

He’s unraveling you.

“I’ll go.”

His eyebrows shoot up to his hairline, not believing how easily you’ve conceded to him. “Where has my sweet, stubborn Ice Queen gone? Bring her back to me, please. All this ecstasy must have gone to her head.”

God, whoever said you still won’t want to deck Jungkook even after experiencing something so explosive. But his grin threatens to split your heart two. Like he’s happy to just be with you, adoring you, joking with you. Oh, how your body is singing with praises.

“Yours?” You cock an eyebrow at him.

Jungkook beams. He’s the sun and you’re the moon. Now that you’ve tasted this, you’re never going to let go. You are simply submerged.

“Haven’t you realized? You’re my girl.”

a/n: i know very much that i took a lot of liberty when writing about collegiate swimming/sports in generral (i took an advanced swim class at my uni last semester so thats where all my info comes from) i tweaked it a lil bit to fit my purposes but it was fun to try to write about it hehe. 

i hope you all loved this fic as much as i loved writing it!!!! 

⇢ masterlist

©️ 2020 kai, high-on-food. ✉

[deathlikesdeep-dish]

The Razr (Zoro AU Scenario)

Hi guys!

I’m so flattered that I’ve had some people join me here on this fun writing journey!! I truly truly do a little happy dance every time I get a follow. :D 

I keep meaning to just sit down and write a quick lil somethin somethin, but it always ends up longer than I intend 😅

This is a headcanon I came up with about Zoro having a crazy outdated flip phone that he refused to get rid of and his friends finally forced him to get a smartphone so he could use GPS. 

It turned out a little more serious and emotional than I originally intended, but I’m pretty pleased with it!! Would love to get y’alls feedback. 

xx

Warnings: obscene amounts of fluff, language 

Word Count: 1862

“Zoro, where the fuck are you??” Nami yelled on the other end of the phone. He could hear the irritation in her voice.

He groaned and rubbed his hand over his face in frustration. “I really don’t know, Nami. I think I made a wrong turn,” He paused and sighed. “Or two? Shit, I don’t know.”

Zoro could hear Nami yelling on the other end of the line, and he placed his phone in the cup holder, knowing that this might be a while. He hit his head a few times on the steering wheel of his car, closing his eyes as he waited for her to finish screeching. He was used to this. He knew that he wasn’t the most directionally adept member of his friend group, but he got by….when others were around.

What made matters worse is that Zoro absolutely refused to get rid of his ancient, bulky flip phone, a fact that Nami never failed to bring up in situations just like this. He didn’t see a point in getting a new phone when his old one worked just fine. He thought back to a conversation he’d had about it just the other day with his friends.

-

“Bro, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” Their newest friend Franky said upon seeing Zoro pull his phone out of his pocket. “A fucking Motorola Razr? That thing has gotta be 10 years old!”

“It’s actually 12 years old,” Luffy chimed in with a laugh. “It was Kuina’s before it was Zoro’s.”

“Kuina? Who’s Kuina?” Franky asked. Zoro tensed up at the mention of her name, and the room went silent. Even Luffy noticed that he’d made a mistake in bringing her up. Zoro squeezed the phone tightly in his pocket.

Kuina was Zoro’s older sister. Five years his senior, Kuina had used the phone as her own for several years before she upgraded and passed it to Zoro. At first, he resented that she always got the newest stuff, and that he got the hand-me-downs. Now, he wouldn’t dream of letting it go. Kuina had died in a tragic accident just a couple years back. She was only 25. This phone was one of the only things that she had ever given him that was hers, along with the family katana that had been passed down for generations.

“Sorry, Zoro,” Luffy murmured, stuffing a bite of food into his mouth uncomfortably. Zoro simply grumbled in response with a shrug.

“Still,” Nami ventured tentatively. “Maybe it would be helpful for you to get a smartphone sometime soon. They all come with GPS systems built in.”

“And what’s wrong with a map?” Zoro snapped back.

“Well, nothing…” Nami said.

“Unless you can’t actually read it!” Luffy shouted out, not able to help himself. He cackled. Zoro shot him a glare, and he laughed even more. He crossed his arms over his broad chest.

“Yeah, well whatever. Next time I get lost, I’ll get a fucking smartphone. Deal?” Zoro said, to get them off his back more than anything.

Nami’s eyes lit up conspiratorially. “Don’t say stuff like that unless you mean it, Zoro.”

Zoro waved her off. They all knew that he certainly wasn’t going to purchase his own phone, so it was a moot point. It worked perfectly fine. Plus, it was hers. He’d keep it as long as it worked.

-

He was pulled from his reverie by Nami yelling his name.

“ZORO,” She yelled. He picked his phone back up and placed it at his ear.

“Goddamn it, Nami. I fucking know I suck at directions, please stop bitching at me,” He growled.

She started to say something, but stopped herself with a sigh. “Ugh. You exhaust me.” She replied.

“What else is new?” He snapped back.

“Whatever, Zoro. I just can’t believe you got lost on the way to your own birthday party.”

“Like I even care about this shit anyway,” He said. “It’s you and Luffy that always insist on throwing a party in the first place.”

“Hey man, don’t pretend like you don’t like eating food and getting shit-faced.”

He rolled his eyes, but didn’t say anything. He knew he didn’t have an argument there.

“Can you see a street sign anywhere?” Nami finally asked after a few moments when there was no reply.

Zoro looked up towards the streetlight and squinted at a sign in the distance. “Yeah, it looks like I’m at the corner of Alabasta and Logue Town drive.”

“Thank Christ,” Nami sighed. “You’re not that far. I’ll send Franky and Sanji to go get you.”

Zoro groaned. “Why does Sanji have to come? Doesn’t he have a fucking cake to bake or something?”

“They need to go out and get a few things from the store,” Nami said. “Listen, you’re the one that’s lost. Suck it up.”

“Ugh. Fine. See you soon.” He hung up, not wanting to hear anything else.

It took Franky and Sanji about 10 minutes to get to him.Thankfully, they just decided to have Zoro follow behind them in his car rather than ride together. Zoro wasn’t sure he could stop himself from punching that jackass directly in the face if he said anything to him.

They finally got back to Robin’s house where they were having the party. Robin was for sure the most adult out of any of them. She’d already bought this crazy historic home and had a job at an archeology firm while everybody else was living in shitty, thrown-together apartment complexes, eating pizza rolls and beer for every meal.

Sanji had looked like he was going to start some shit when they got out of the car, but decided against it when Zoro gave him a look. Plus, Sanji thought, it’s the guy’s birthday. Probably should lay off for one night.

Everyone was pleased to see him, and only gave him a moderately hard time about getting lost on the way to his own party. And despite himself, Zoro gave in to the jovial atmosphere. A few beers certainly helped. By the time he and Luffy had teamed up to play beer pong against Law and Usopp (“Sniper-king, my ass,” Zoro had thought to himself on Usopp’s third consecutive loss), Zoro was feeling pretty damn good. These were his people. They’d been the ones that were there for him. Even when new friends were added to the group, they’d always fit in. Luffy was the usual recruiter, and he somehow managed to find some cool-ass people.

The best time to give Zoro any gifts, Nami had discovered, was when he was sufficiently plastered enough to not object to them. Zoro was always more affectionate and willing to be the recipient of attention when he was drunk.

“Alright!” Nami announced over the blare of the music. “It’s present time, you degenerates! Sit your asses down!”

Franky turned the music down from his smartwatch, lowering it to a dull roar. Zoro was feeling warm and smiley, so he didn’t object when Robin lead him to the couch in the middle of the living room to receive his gift.

“What did y’all fuckers get me this time?” Zoro laughed, slurring a bit as he talked.

Nami rolled her eyes and Luffy just bounced excitedly from the armchair across the room. No matter how much he had to drink, it would seem, Luffy was always one big ball of energy.

“Remember,” Nami said, handing him a small, delicately wrapped box. “You promised.”

Zoro furrowed his brow, confusedly. “I promised?” He started to open the box, a bit nervous all of a sudden about what he would find under the shiny paper.

When he finally finished unwrapping the box, he froze. In his hand, he found a brand new iPhone. He looked up at his friends, knowing how much something like this cost.

“Guys, this is ridiculous,” He said, not knowing exactly how he felt.

“Stop,” Nami said, holding a hand up.

“Yeah, we all pitched in! Even Sanji!” Luffy grinned from his chair. “So no take backsies!”

He looked up at the room full of expectant faces, flushed from the alcohol and the good company. There was a pit in his stomach. On the one hand, he was angry. They knew how he felt about his phone. They knew what it meant to him. It wasn’t just a stupid phone. On the other hand, he was touched. Touched that his friends had come together to help him out. He found himself putting his hand in his pocket, thumbing over the ancient flip-phone that had once been hers.

“Guys, my phone works perfectly well,” He managed after swallowing. “This is completely unnecessary.”

“C’mon man,” Usopp clapped his hand on his shoulder. “You know it isn’t unnecessary. Do you need a reminder that you got lost on the way to your own party tonight?” He laughed.

Zoro remained silent, one hand gripping the new phone, and the other deep in the pocket of his pants.

“So, of course, we figured that you’d feel this way,” Robin chimed in. “So, that’s only one part of the gift.”

Zoro snapped his head towards Robin, the crease in his brow deepening. She pulled out another box from behind her back and handed it to him. This one was slightly larger, and a bit heavier. He peeled back the wrapping paper.

“It’s a shadow box,” Franky said. “So you can still keep your old phone, too.”

“Just on display on the shelf,” Nami said. “Instead of in your pocket.”

“We know how much it means to you, mosshead,” Sanji grumbled from the doorway. “You don’t have to get rid of the old phone. So, just accept the gift already.”

Zoro felt himself get teary-eyed. He told himself it was the alcohol as he wiped his hand over his eyes before tears could fall down his cheeks. “Thanks guys,” Was all he could manage.

Knowing that he needed the attention off of him, his friends just laughed and cheered, turning the music up to get back to the party. Franky spent the rest of the evening helping set up Zoro’s phone and showing him all of the functions that he would have access to. Zoro was still so overwhelmed, but he tried to make himself pay attention. Finally, and most importantly, Franky downloaded Google Maps and showed him how to use it. Zoro pocketed the phone with a slight smile and a ‘thank you.’ It felt heavy and big in the back pocket of his jeans. His heart felt heavy too. He couldn’t help but feel like this was the end of something. But somewhere, he knew that Kuina would be looking down on him, so happy that he had found such thoughtful friends.

Luffy raised his glass for a toast. “To Zoro! And never getting lost again!”

The rest of them raised their glasses, looking over to Zoro expectantly as they waited for him to raise his glass too. He reached for his beer and raised it slightly with a smirk.

“You motherfuckers are gonna regret this,” He grinned finally. “Getting lost was my only character defect. Now I’ll be unstoppable.”

[raziakhatunblr]

Maplestory private server illegal, Tricks to avoid penalty

Maplestory private server

 Is it safe? Let us understand the background and distinctive contents of private servers.

 More Information

Maplestory private host

It helps MapleStory fans better enjoy the hard work involved with constructing successful MapleStory servers. However, what about punishment?

 Personal Servers are somewhat illegal because they breach the TOS or Copyright claims or something. If Nexon has captured a private host, they'll send a notification to you or sue you enjoy they did to and which no longer exist.

 The reason behind most personal servers is either from people who talk about the leaked info. The manufacturer of OdinMS created his personal host, or they're rebels such as The Resistance vs. The Blend in Half-Life 2.

 But, there's absolutely no possible way for Nexon to prevent all private servers. They are continuing to be advanced from moving v55, v63, v72, and so on.

 How Is a Private Server like Maplestory Made?

After all the years of unsuccessful leveling, upgrading, and recruitment of guild members, together with a destroyed Ghost Boat Exorcist badge onto a three-year-old Mechanic, I chose to retire into a MapleStory Private Server.

 Additionally, $600CAD to find nx and buy stuff (for example, meso sacs and store permits) to get items across and find things out in M.S. the challenging way. Yes, I sacrificed $600CAD in substantial school lunch money to get things like hair coupons in M.S. once I might have used that money to receive a supercomputer.

 Nexon is observing everything

The ruined GSE badge within my 3-year-old 210 mechanics. (through celebrity improvement window) and Nexon's shortage of gear reimbursement finally led me to do the one thing nobody would ever encourage me to do: I gave up on GMS. With no GSE badge, I can not continue on GMS.

Furthermore, I wasted a lot of real cash to sell items to acquire more Mesos. Instead, I've more insults than Mesos from players. Such as"Shoo."

 [caption id="attachment_1282" align="aligncenter" width="1920"] Maplestory Private waiter [/caption]

My big problem here is how do you create a MapleStory Private Server (whether it is a v83 or the most recent version)? Like, do they divide into Nexon's H.Q. and extract all of the sprites, maps, sound effects, etc., off their computers and then rebuild it like a jigsaw puzzle?

 If they did, then I will need to pack my bags and fly to California to do this. Like, the M.S. files will need to come from someplace. Also, it's the sole way to acquire the Wizet Invincible Hat. Besides, you'll find guidelines on other Personal Server sites.

 Mesos

That says things like"no hacking, injecting of tools/unauthorized equips/packets, no wz document editing, etc.". I feel like I deserve a holiday from this game, but don't wanna devote another 1-2-3 years recollecting all the Mesos and equipping myself.

 I would like to compensate for the 3 years of the wasted moment on M.S. and get my movie/animation jobs finished at precisely the same moment.

 In addition to the hat, the G.M. class itself is making me envious. Yes, they're a class referred to as"SuperGM." So with a Personal Server (a Private Server intended for my personal use ), I will see exactly what it is like to be a G.M.

And bypass all other personal server site rules. Plus, there's a skill known as"Super Dragon Roar" that really does %1000 damage to all animals on screen.

 While we are on this subject of hacking, why are robots poor? I never uttered before, but as a fantastic player from GMS, I find the only fair use for them would be to let me farm Mesos while doing home chores. I could call in my friend to play M.S. while I create breakfast/lunch/dinner, do laundry, etc. Why are robots taboo to MMORPG moderators like MapleStory private servers? That and having my friend drama M.S. for me personally will make no difference (at least that's what I presume ).

 A side question: why or how are Personal Servers bad? Besides the fact that they permit one to play the sport and get stuff free, I really don't see how Private Servers are poor. Additionally, when you produce a Personal Server, do you, as the admin, get a Wizet Invincible Hat?

 Also, how do I protect my P.S. from Nexon so they don't locate it? ExtaliaMS got closed down when Nexon found their I.P. address. But I want to take additional precautions to avoid going to court to face Nexon.)

 So for this, I will have to place my MMD project on hold for now. I have to wait until the introduction of MS2 so that I can port its models to MMD.

 (this is where Time is Money. Much like E.G., construction of a condo in a boom-town; the employees need to build it quickly to allow more residents to proceed.)

 Additionally, you're only allowed to perform a daily event once a character. That's like more kids than Octomom should feed.

 And that I consumed almost an entire day to do daily quests on all of them because of how many negative aspects in the match slowed me down since the days passed! When it's terrible hackers, DCs (that is an online game term for"disconnections") (no matter whether I have a great or poor internet connection). Unscheduled server maintenances, or other things along those lines!

 Can not you compare with a v83 Personal Server right into a quit game console like the Gamecube or even the PlayStation 1?

How can we play an old game from several decades back without a machine that's capable of doing this? So yeah, how can we try the previous skills and senior classes of the elderly servers if we can't even play with the older servers of Tonight Now? Please refer to this link for additional info about discontinued games and game consoles: A significant Note about Emulators for Game Developers.

  More Information

Also, can't you compare with an MMORPG Private Server into a Jailbreak (like IAP Cracker and Installous) for iPod Touches/iPhones/iPads? For games such as Tiny Tower, Subway Surfers, Candy Crush, and so Forth, even with no Jailbreak/with the official server. I am able to go the distance and find those games completed 100 percent without having to spend a single cent.

 The programmer (s) that created these match (s) plans to place them up to download free of cost. But I can't waste any more time on these types of server-sided matches because I have other important things to do.

 Besides internet service, how does a Private Server need funds to operate? Since most P.S. sites say in their community guidelines. "If possible, please contribute as Personal Servers need funds to operate...

 How to Create a MapleStory Private Server [v83]

First, go to C:\

 As soon as you find three folders, call all you want, but I will name them'ZenthosDev,'''Downloads,' and'MapleStoryV83' with this tutorial.

Download these programs/files.

 (64bit)

MySQL Query Browser

 JCE Unlimited Power Records

WampServer

LocalHost v83

ZenthosDev v83

MapleStory v83

W.Z. Files

Make certain you selected the appropriate variant matching your Operating System (O.S.) to avoid any difficulties.

 Installations:

Before we start, make sure to extract everything if it's in a .rar format.

 Installing MapleStory v83:

 Install MapleStory with the download provided. It is a really straight forward installation. Follow the instructions.

 Delete the following files/folders in the C:/MapleStoryV83 folder should they exist.

 MapleStory.exe

Patcher.exe

GameLauncher.exe

shield (folder)

Installing WampServer:

Follow the directions and install it.

 C:\Wamp

 Don't be concerned about putting your email and these at the end. Just press finish.

 Left-click it and click put Online'.

 Then left-click it again and click on begin All Services.'

 The Wamp icon must look totally green (if it is red or reddish, you have a problem).

 Installing the MySQL Query Browser:

It is straightforward, runs the installation record, agrees to the conditions, and follow the instructions.

 According to which system kind your computer as you may install 32bit or 64bit.

So set up the corresponding file.

For another simple installation, follow the directions.

Documents placement:

Paste them into these areas, overwrite when prompted.

(The (jdk1)/(jre7) folder version could differ. It is fine ). C:\Program Files\Java\jdk1.7.0_01\jre\lib

3. C:\Program Files\Java\jdk1.7.0_01\jre\lib\safety

Copy each of the folders and files within the ZenthosDev folder that we made before. So it seems in this way.

 Now replicate the W.Z. folder within the ZenthosDev folder.

 So it must look like this.

 SQL setup:

Username: root

 Then click on the document' button in the menu bar, and select open Directory...'.

 Proceed to C:\enthosDev\SQL and open the document called'ZenthosDev.SQL.'

 Following its opening, apply the file.

 Preference installation:

(This component is optional if running the server to Receive your computer only)

 You might also make any alterations to have the server to function how you need it.

 Wait 10 minutes, and then your bat file must look similar to this.

 Code:

 ZenthosDev has started:

 World Launched

 Login Launched

 Channel Launched

 Is Maplestory’s personal server really safe?

I ask this question as somebody who has been part of the Maplestory personal server" community."

(unsure whether the neighborhood is the best term to describe it, but oh well) to get many of years now. I would not call myself a"host hopper" per se, but I have tried out a decent variety of servers to see what they provide. Most servers market towards Maplers, who prefer the old-school/pre-BB encounter.

 The sole thing that differentiates them will be the attributes they supply. Some have higher or lower EXP/Meso/Drop prices to make things more or harder. Some make H.P. Washing"Optional." Some provide custom content...you get the notion.

 Anyway, this question popped into my mind when I tried out a host known as"AvalonMS." I recall having a few conversations using a streamer there. He was currently looking for a server to repay. This man had hoped that Avalon would perform well. Eventually, he left because he could not see the server becoming successful and remaining alive for more than a few months.

 I really don't remember his precise words. However, I believe he said something along the lines of"Private Servers need to be run with at least a small bit of professionalism, like a business nearly."

Along with the proprietors of this host, since he put it, were not too professional. Among the substantial issues was that they weren't transparent enough with the area concerning what sort of content/updates they'd do with their game. I tried looking around for their host just a minute before. And they appeared to have vanished off the face of the internet. No big surprise there.

 A personal server such as Maplestory has been around. So what is the issue?

I got me wondering how many private servers have been around for a while to stay successful. When I say successful, I usually indicate they could maintain a decently-sized busy player base for an extended period. That, if you consider it, is already hard enough as it is. In any kind, Maplestory, whether it be the official game or the personal servers, isn't a super popular MMO.

 The official sport is nowhere near as popular as it was during its prime. And therefore, you would think the subset of all gamers/Maplers that prefer old-school private servers inside the official game is most likely a pretty little demographic.

 We've got SOME powerful servers such as Royals, Legends, Saga, etc., which have existed for a couple of decades. And these"powerful" servers hold a reasonably large percentage of personal server gamers.

 I mean hell, even as soon as you go past the 6th or even 7th rated server on gtop100, you begin getting into the servers that have less than 100 active players. And needless to say, the personal server community is most likely dwindling.

 There are just so many men and women who have played pre-BB Maple.

And they would prefer it on the modern versions. Finally, those folks will likely proceed with their own lives and stop playing with Maplestory entirely because nostalgia can maintain a player round for such a long time. I must wonder how many more years we have before Maplestory Private Servers die off completely. I hope we have a little bit more.  More Information

[thegazettefanfiction]

The New Roadie (Uruha)

“Hey, (Y/n)! Can you bring me an A string? This one just snapped.”

“Sure!”

“(Y/n), I need your help over here!”

“Okay!”

“(Y/n)! Can you grab some coffee for me?”

“Yes, sir!”

Uruha’s bandmates watched the scenario with mild amusement, occasionally blinking owlishly as they watched the girl walk in and out of the green room. This became something they’d been seeing almost every day. With the commencement of their first tour, everyone was working hard; and that includes the new roadie (Y/n).

It all started when the management thought it would be a good idea to hire some roadies, seeing that they were lacking some manpower for the upcoming tours, especially when plans regarding the world tour were still in progress. They began scouting for volunteers, and in less than a week, their inbox was flooded with hundreds of applications. But after narrowing down the applications, they’d only accepted a total of fifteen roadies.

(Y/n) was part of the crew. Not long she moved to Tokyo, where her once laidback lifestyle became as hectic as the busy citizens hastily walking along the famous, busiest crossing of the heart of Tokyo. Had she knew that cost of living was going to be higher than what she was used to in her hometown, she wouldn’t have happened to be in need of a part-time job to earn a little extra. She was desperate enough to consider working at a fast food restaurant like Sukiya or Matsuya, but another part of her felt that such an odd job wouldn’t give her the opportunity she deserved. She craved something more than taking orders from customers or scanning the barcodes of groceries and totalling up the price.

“Why not work as a roadie?” suggested her friend, one day. The two girls were sitting inside Genki Sushi having lunch.

“A roadie?” she repeated dubiously. “Where did that idea come from?”

“I know someone who works in a record label called HERESY Inc.,” began (Friend’s name). She whipped out a black iPhone 6 protected by a cyan silicone case and unlocked it. She began to dig up the information she needed to share while scrolling through a chat feed. “Apparently, a band named the GazettE is recruiting some roadies for their tours.”

“What do I have to do?” inquired (Y/n), who was now interested in the job.

“I’m not too sure,” replied her friend. “But I’ll forward the link so you can have a look if you're interested. Generally, you travel with them on tour and handle every part of the concert productions.” Once the link was sent, she put down her phone and picked up her chopsticks to continue eating the remaining sushi on their plates. “I think it's a good choice for you since you’ve been complaining about the jobs offered around here. And I think it’s good for you to broaden your network. You may never know who you’re going to meet.”

If only they knew of such foreshadow.

Fast forward to almost a fortnight since she applied and was accepted for the job. Here she was going up and down the venue carrying out her tasks, whether it was bringing an extra towel or a bottle of water, unloading the equipment, or on some occasions, she had to help out with the makeup and costumes. Though she knew what she was signing up for, she didn’t expect this amount of tedious work, but she couldn’t complain about it; not that she had anything to complain about.

After a while, (Y/n) returned to the green room with a cup of steaming hot coffee. “Here you go,” she said, passing the paper cup to the guitarist. “Be careful. It’s hot.”

He accepted the drink and smiled, saying, “Good work, (Y/n). You can go and have a rest now. I’ll call you back in about fifteen minutes.”

“Thank you,” With a bow, (Y/n) left for her break, not noticing his gaze fixated on her retreating figure while he sipped the hot latte.

His bandmates were watching the whole scene from the side and finally decided to step in. “Okay,” called Aoi. “What was that all about, loverboy?”

“What do you mean?” questioned Uruha.

Ruki sat on the sofa and crossed his arms over his chest. “Don’t think your lovey-dovey look can escape us,” he said with a teasing smirk. “We’ve been noticing that you keep bossing the new roadie around ever since she got here. What’s up with that?”

“What are you trying to imply?” responded the guitarist with a tone that he didn't seem to realise it confirmed what his bandmates were suspecting.

“Ah-ha!” exclaimed Reita excitedly, pointing at his friend with his index finger. “I hear denial coming from you! So you were trying to get cosy with the new roadie.”

“Not to mention,” continued the grinning Kai, who was enjoying the confrontation a little too much than what he planned. “You even requested to have her assigned to you as a personal assistant.”

“We know you’ve had eyes on her for a while now,” added Ruki, whose smirk hadn’t faltered even a slight. “And among the five of us, you’ve been talking to her an unusual amount for someone you met for less than two weeks.”

Uruha felt his face became hotter. Was he really blushing at this point? Was he really having a crush on the new, young roadie? Maybe his bandmates were right, now that he thought about it.

When (Y/n) joined them on their NINTH PHASE #03 tour, he was somewhat drawn to her. It was weird, considering the fact that he knew her for less than ten minutes at that time, and he couldn't pinpoint what made him attracted to her. Maybe it was that youthful exuberance, or the air of elegance that seemingly shrouded her. Whatever it was, she definitely caught his attention.

His mind was occupied by these questions that he realised neither the cup of coffee that had been cooled down nor the guitarist inspecting his face up close.

“He’s blushing,” he noted in a playful manner, making Uruha snap out of his thoughts. “So our guess is correct, then.”

The latter merely sighed, sipping the rest of the coffee before turning to leave the room. “Think whatever pleases you,” he said, giving in. “Just don't do anything funny.”

Unfortunately, he didn’t catch their smirks, nor did he hear someone murmur, “No promises.”

After a series of successful live shows in Tokyo and Fukuoka, it was time for the band to proceed to Fukuoka. Just like their previous shows, everyone worked hard to deliver the best show for the band’s adoring fans. Fortunately, the hours of rehearsal paid off, for the live show was just as good as their previous ones. Everyone was happy and had lots of fun during the show.

(Y/n) was packing up her belongings when she heard someone call her name, making her look up to see the leader of the band smiling, showing his prominent dimples.

“Kai-san,” she greeted back with a smile. She let go of her bag to stand straight and face him properly. “Is there anything you’d like me to help you with?”

“Oh, no!” he assured. “Actually, we were thinking of going out for dinner and decided to invite you. Wanna join us?”

(Y/n)’s smile widened. “Sure!” she replied. “Let me get the rest of my things.”

“Okay!” was Kai’s response before leaving her to continue what she was doing. Unfortunately for dear little (Y/n), she didn’t see the drummer turning to the rest of the bandmates - excluding one particular guitarist - and whispered, “Mission, started!”

Later that night, (Y/n) was standing outside the venue dressed in a dark blue coat and a white beanie keeping her head warm. It was a cold February night, not even those pieces of clothing could keep her warm.

I knew it was a bad idea to not wear another shirt, she thought. A sudden gush of cold wind blew, making her shiver.

Just then, she felt something warm wrapped around her neck, prompting her to look up and see a concerned Uruha holding a red scarf.

“Take care,” he advised. “We wouldn’t want you to fall sick while still on tour.”

(Y/n) merely blushed, and it wasn’t just the wool scarf that gave her a bit of warmth. “Thank you,” she said meekly. But it didn’t take long for her to realise that she was alone with him. “Um, where are the others?”

Uruha kept silent for a short while before replying, “They suddenly said they couldn’t join.”

“What happened?” she asked worriedly. “Did they become sick?”

“Apparently,” was all he could say. But if he could heave a huge sigh, he would. He should’ve known they dare to invite him and (Y/n) for dinner separately, and then go missing once they meet.

What are they? he thought. A bunch of high school boys?

“That’s a shame,” said (Y/n), sighing.

Uruha glanced at the girl, taking in her appearance as he thought about what his bandmates said. Maybe he did have a crush on her. If that was true, then this might be a blessing in disguise. Think about it. He would have the chance to get to know her better without having anyone interfering them.

Taking in a deep breath, he blurted, “Well, we can just go and have dinner ourselves. If you don’t mind, that is.”

(Y/n) looked up with surprise, and Uruha swore he could see her cheeks turned a darker shade of red. “S-Sure!” she stammered.

So off they went for a nice dinner at Motsunabe Yamanaka Honten, where they get to know each other better over a steaming pot of motsunabe that warmed their bodies on a winter night; from their backgrounds to interests to future plans. They learn about things they never knew, and this night allowed them to get closer to each other.

It was also at that moment when Uruha realised why he was attracted to her. No matter the job, she constantly strived to challenge herself into learning new things and doing better than when she first attempted; and she didn’t complain about anything. He wanted to see more of the passion that lit her eyes when she did her work. He liked how he shared her experience with her friends with excitement instead of dread. Perhaps that was why he made her get the things he could’ve gotten them himself so that he could ask her more about how her day went, hoping that she would reply in the same enthusiasm.

Soon, the night was over with some laughter over a bottle of warm sake. After paying the bill, Uruha walked her back all the way to her hotel room. Standing in front of the room door, she turned around to look at him and said, “Thank you for dinner, Uruha-san. It was nice to know you more.”

“You’re welcome,” he assured, although he didn’t expect to blurt out the next sentence. “I hope we can do this more in the future.”

(Y/n) raised a brow, as a red blush tinted her cheeks. “Well,” she began shyly. “I wouldn’t mind.”

Uruha looked at her with surprise. He thought he would lose his chance when he said that last sentence, but she actually took his offer. Could this night get any better?

“I’ll see you in the morning,” she said, snapping him out of his thoughts to see that she had already unlocked her room door.

“Yeah!” was his initial response. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” she responded with a smile, walking into the room and shutting the door behind her.

Is she the one for him? He wouldn’t know just yet, but with the way things were, he felt contented to take things slow and steady. A goofy smile plastered on his face, and he began to make his way back to his room, where he found his bandmates - who somehow managed to sneak into his room - waiting to interrogate him.

This is going to be a long night, he thought with an inward sigh. But hey! He had to thank his mischievous friends for it.

[ohlovelywar]

Stark and Parker

a/n: this took me forever to get out ANON SWEETIE I AM SO SORRY, this takes place right after civil war and italics are flashbacks!  

request: hi so I tried to write a fic but it didn't come out good, so can you do it? because yours are so good!! The reader is Tony Starks daughter and she can't tell anyone for her own safety. she is dating Peter parker, and they don't know about each others secrets until one day he is recruited and see each other at the compound :) I know this is really specific :))

paring: peter parker x fem!stark!reader

warnings: playful teasing and banter, peter being an awkward shy mess that we all love, edited but i haven’t slept all night or day or let’s just say unedited to be safe, cursing cause ITS MEEE, some angst somehow, some fluffy moments, i miss the avengers fam

word count: 2,473

He was late...again. It was the third time this week that he was late for patrol. Peter mentally scolded himself, knowing that he should be helping out more. He was running, running through the bust sidewalks of New York city. Typically, Peter just stuck to watching over Queens. He rarely even went into Brooklyn. But something told him that he needed to be there today. He couldn't figure out why, his spider-senses only telling him to be alert. He tried to decipher his feelings as he squeezed through the crowd of people. He was nervous and...giddy? Well that makes no sense. Right then and there, Peter's body collided with another person, a hot liquid spilling on both of them, causing them both to cry out in pain.

Peter looked up and was met with a girl, no older than he was, now covered in coffee.

"I-I'm so so sorry!" Peter apologized, further scolding himself. She tucked her slightly long, dark hair behind her ear and smiled at him.

"It's okay! It's crowded here so it would have happen regardless," She tried to make the situation better even though she lost all of her dysfunctional families coffee including her own.

"Still, I'll-I'll buy you some new ones! And, uh, a new shirt. Shit. I'm really really sorry." He pulled out his wallet to hopefully reimburse the poor girl for the spilled drinks and spoiled shirt, only to find no money. "Just my luck," he thought to himself.

"Seriously, it's okay! Accidents happen! All the time! Especially here in New York." Sure her skin was burned from the give or take 64 ounces of fresh, steaming coffee poured on her, but she was just as clumsy and she didn't want this poor guy to suffer.

"But," Peter looked down at his watch. He was really late for patrol now. He groaned as he struggled with what to do. He knew he need to start patrol as soon as possible and get to his backpack where his homemade superhero suit was waiting for an adventure and justice. But, he also knew that he couldn't just leave this girl after ruining her day.

She could sense that he was in a hurry. To where? Who knows, but she decided to make this easier on the both of them.

"Give me your phone."

"What?"

"Give me your phone."

"Why-"

"Just do it!" Peter reluctantly handed her his phone, absolutely clueless of her plan. She added her contact into Peter's outdated iPhone, smiling as she returned it to him. "There. You seem like you're in a hurry so you can make it up to me on a date," she winked at him. Peter began to blush as he stuttered. She laughed and waved bye to the boy, hoping that it wouldn't be the last time that she gets to see his cute face.

Peter looked down at the phone and found her contact. Y/n. He smiled as he watched her figure retreat down the sidewalk, further and further away from their little coffee accident. A pretty name for a pretty girl.

Y/N walked into the huge compound, instantly being met with the loud clamor of her expansive and not all completely related family.

"Little Stark!" Wanda greeted, drawing the team's attention to the teenage girl who entered the building.

"Yo Stark! Where's the coffee?" Sam yelled asked.

"Ha. About that-"

"She's wearing it," Natasha pointed out, a teasing smile now on her face.

"Ms. Stark, what happened?" Vision asked, concerned as to why the young was suddenly covered in coffee but still seemed in a fabulous mood.

"Ran into someone."

"Damn kid just cause we have money doesn't mean that you can go spilling it and wearing it," Tony looked at his pride and joy, trying into to laugh.

"Steve doesn't like that language Tony," Rhodey joked.

"You know what? For a Colonel-"

"I'm fine by the way. In case you case were wondering ya know. Just some minor second degree burns no biggie," y/n interrupted Steve.

Wanda gasped, ”You met a boy!"

"You met a boy?!" All the adults formed a chorus. Tony, Steve, and Rhodey were all concerned, protective parents, Vision was trying to figure out what was so specially about meeting someone of the opposite sex, all while Sam and Nat were happy that their niece was finally going to get some.

"Wanda you snitch!"

"I'm sorry! I'm trying to control it I swear! It's just, your thoughts were so loud I couldn't help myself!"

"Who's the boy?" Tony questioned, a million emotions flooding his system.

"Dad-"

"Who's the boy?" He repeated.

"No nobody! No one! Wanda," y/n sent glares to the other young girl in the house.

"Guys stop with the third degree. It's obvious nothing happened. She's literally wearing coffee."

"Jee thanks Sam."

"Anytime y/n/n. Anytime." At that moment, a small ding came from y/n's phone.

"Hey y/n! It's Peter the guy that ran into you earlier today. Would you might to maybe like go out sometime this weekend?" A smile followed by a blush took over y/n's face. How could she say no?

And thus was the beginning of their beautiful relationship.

Five Months Later

The compound was quiet, far too quiet. Y/N hated it with a burning passion. She missed all the clashing and banging from the training center. She missed the awkward, flirting tension that would follow Wanda and Vision everywhere. She missed Sam yelling at Steve to stop running so fast. She missed Nat trying to teach her basic combat skills behind her dad's back. She missed showing Steve all the new things about the internet and watching the greatest movies of all time that he didn't get to see due to the ice. She missed bantering with Sam about who's Steve's best friend was: her or Sam. She missed Rhodey and Sam ranting about the "two crazy white boys" in their lives. She missed her dysfunctional family more than she ever thought possible. And she was so incredibly pissed at both Steve and Tony for not finding a common ground for the accords.

Tony was just as upset. He hated silence, he always knew he did. But he never knew he could hate it so much. He never thought that he could miss Steve, or Wanda, or Clint, or Sam, or Nat. He never knew how much he could miss his daughter yelling at Vision for barging into her room. Or her and Wanda screaming Taylor Swift lyrics at the top of their lungs. Or Steve's thousand questions as they watched some classic movie that he never got to experience. Or the mess the team would leave the kitchen, training room, living room, hell, practically the entire compound. He missed catching Nat teaching y/n how to fight. He missed the dysfunctional family he never knew he had, until Steve and Bucky left him to die in the snow, all alone and cold, bleeding out, wondering where the hell did he go so wrong. Seeing the after math of the Avenger's "civil war", Rhodey struggling to walk on his own and y/n barely leaving her room, made him feel even more guilty. Even thought the fight was both of their faults, Tony couldn't help but feel that it was all his. That he could have, should have, would have done more to fix it...but he did it. And now everyone, even Clint: the retired Avenger, Scott: the man that suddenly entered the team's lives during the fight, and his own sweet daughter: y/n, are facing the consequences.

He sighed, checking his phone while hearing the news blare from his daughter's room to make up for the quietness of the compound.

"Sir, Mr. Parker is here," FRIDAY informed him.

"Send the kid in." He put away his phone and put on his "I'm Tony Stark and I have my shit together" mask.

Peter was, well, to best explain it: the love child of the emotions excited, nervous, anxious, and worried. No matter how many times he had talked to Tony  Stark, he could never get over the fact that he was talking to Tony Stark, THE Iron Man himself. He wondered what Ned would say if he knew. Probably something extremely fanboy-sih like: "Oh my god what did he smell like? If you don't say iron than I give up supporting him." He then thought about what his girlfriend would say to all of this. She didn't exactly know that her boyfriend was the spider vigilante. Or that he had superpowers. Or that Tony Stark had taken him under his wing and had him fight alongside him to stop Captain America. She didn't even know that he left the country just a week ago per Mr. Stark's request. He didn't know what her reaction would be. And he didn't get much time to think about it as the elevator doors opened up to the compound.

Peter's eyes widened in a childlike wonder. He was so caught up in his surroundings that the doors almost closed on him. He stumbled out, still looking around.

"Hey underoos," Tony greeted, putting his phone away.

"H-Hey Mr. Stark. This place is amazing!" Peter exclaimed, his eyes still roaming around the room.

"This used to be the Avengers compound."

"Used to? Oh! Right! Berlin."

"Yeah...Berlin. Let me show you around."

While Tony took Peter on the grand tour, Rhodey thought he'd pay a visit to his favorite Stark.

"How you doing y/n/n?"

"I hate this," she grumbled, lowering the volume of her television.

"I know."

"No offense Rhodey, but you guys are adults. Grown adults. Why couldn't you guys have come to an agreement or something?"

"It's not that simple. You know that."

"But it should have been." She looked down at her lap, trying to hold back the tears. "I'm sorry bout your legs."

"You can't expect to come out with everything in a war like that."

"But it's your family."

"Makes it just a little worth it."

"So, why are you here? Don't get me wrong I love your company Rhodey but I'm sure my dad would prefer you in his sight."

"Came to check in on you. Also, to tell you that the new recruit is here."

"New recruit?" She perked up.

"Yeah. I think you'll like him too. He's your age."

"My age?" She started to laugh. "Rhodes there's no way in hell that Tony Stark, the Iron-Man, my father, would ever recruit a kid my age."

"Well, why don't you just come see for yourself?"

"Is this an attempt to get me out of my room and to face my dad?"

"No, but I'm saving that for future reference. Just come see."

"I'm going. I'm going."

Tony stopped the tour in the living room as soon as he heard his daughter's giggle.

"Pete, there's someone I want you to meet."

As soon as she walked in, Peter froze. Y/N turned her gaze from Rhodey to the two people in front of her and her eyes widened.

"Peter?" she gasped, a smile finding her face for the first time in a week.

"Y/n?" Peter's brows furrowed. He was trying to figure out how the hell his girlfriend got here. Tony looked between the two kids and then back to Rhodey, mentally asking what was going on. Rhodey shrugged his shoulders, just as confused.

"What are you doing here?!" she gave him a hug. She had missed him, esspecially with all the crazyness that had taken over her life the past week.

"Mr. Stark invited me," he hugged her back, also missing the way her voice sounded and how soft her skin was. "What are you doing here?"

"I live here. Wait, invited you?"

"Y/n, this is the new recruit," Tony informed her, scared that she was going to tear him apart.

"Wait what?!" She looked at her dad.

"Wait, why do you live here?"

"She's his daughter," Rhodey answered.

"YOU HAVE A KID!?" Peter yelled.

"Yes.." Tony took a step back, the whole scene feeling too much for him suddenly.

"AND YOURE HIS KID?!"

"Yeah wait why is he recruiting you?"

"He's Spider-Man. How do you two know each other?" Rhodey was more than curious to figure out the drama going on before his eyes.

"YOURE SPIDER-MAN AND YOU NEVER TOLD ME!!!"

"IM SORRY!! YOURE TONY STARKS DAUGHTER AND YOU NEVER TOLD ME!!"

"...YOU HAVE A POINT BUT IM SORRY!"

"Screaming kids," Tony snapped his fingers in-between the two, "yeah, hi! How do you two know each other?"

"Oh, well, uh, y-you see Mr. Stark. The thing is..." Peter scratched the back of his neck nervously.

"He's my boyfriend," y/n cut him off. 

"I did NOT see that coming!" Rhodey exclaimed, laughing. "He's the guy that spilled coffee on you two months ago??!" Y/n nodded sheepishly as Peter blushed.

"You told them!?"

"Pete, I was covered in coffee. What did you want me to do? Say I threw up coffee?"

"Really underoos? My kid?" Tony asked, still refusing to believe that his work child and his blood child were dating.

"I DIDN"T KNOOOW!"

"Really y/n? My underoos?"

"Really dad? My Peter?"

"Hey I found him first."

"Actually, I did."

"Actually the spider did," Rhodey intruded.

"Am I being fought over by Tony and y/n Stark?" Peter asked, still confused as to what was going on.

"Yup. It's a pleasure isn't it?" Rhodey teased.

"Listen, as much as I want to be mad I really can't cause you're both good kids so, knock yourselves out...but not up. Please, not up. But Peter, if you hurt my daughter, I will hurt you. And y/n, if you hurt Peter, I will hurt you. Alright?"

"Yes dad."

"Yes Mr. Stark."

"So wait. Is Peter, like, living with us now?" y/n asked.

"For a bit. Just so we can train him." Peter and y/n looked at each other with huge smiles on their faces.

"Let's give them a moment Peter," Rhodey dragged the teen boy out.

"So, do you forgive me?" Tony looked at his daughter with hopeful eyes.

"I'm still upset with you...but I guess I'll forgive you're letting my boyfriend stay for a bit."

"I love you y/n/n, you know that right?"

"And I love you too dad." The two shared a hug for the first time since the spilt of the Avengers, finally feeling as if they had a family again.

"Is this a bad time to ask: where exactly am I staying?" Peter interrupted.

"Jeez kid, can't you see we're having a moment?" Tony rolled his eyes.

"Come on," y/n laughed, "I'll show you to your room."

"Remember to use protection!" Rhodey called out after the two teens. He received a shove from Tony and a middle finger from y/n. Yup, all was finally going to be right in the compound again.

[douchebagbrainwaves]

WHY I'M SMARTER THAN INVESTMENT

This is too big a problem to solve here, but I'd say the test is whether you're good at making things. So what if they fail? Though they're less well known, the angel investors are probably the more critical ingredient in creating a silicon valley in another country, it's clear the US is disorganized about routing people into careers. Easy, compared to college, but boring. 99%.1 The groups then proceeded to give fabulously slick presentations. What made him seem older? If I were a better speaker. More like the first step into a swamp. This form of lie is not without its uses. You know how you can design programs to be debuggable? But when they looked for startup ideas they didn't see this one, because unconsciously they shrank from having to deal with you later.

Foreseeing disaster, my friend and his wife rapidly improvised: yes, the turkey had wanted to die, and in particular, Internet startups are still only a fraction of the world's economy, this component will set the tone for the rest.2 They're started by the poor and the timid; they begin in marginal space and spare time; they're started by people who dropped out of school to do it yourself.3 Rejection is a question of seeing the obvious. Just a teacher? There have always been occasional cases, particularly in the US, and good high schools and good universities, like most other industrialized countries, I'd take the US system. 9782 free! But by the time we funded their second startup, a year later, they had become extremely formidable. And you know what you're talking about, you can do whatever you want and don't cite any previous work, and indignant readers will send you references to all the papers you should have been making.

But I can imagine a future in which the default choice of ambitious young people is to start a company at first. There's no evidence that famously successful organizations like the Roman army or the British East India Company were any less afflicted by protocol and politics than organizations of the same size today. But I don't wish I were a farmer and suddenly heard a lot of propaganda gets slipped into the curriculum in the name of simplification.4 What weaknesses could you exploit?5 Sometimes they're more candid and say explicitly that they need to see some traction.6 Because I wanted to keep the pressure on an investor or acquirer all the way to the close. They wouldn't well, seven of the eight startups we funded will make it. That's what makes sex and drugs so dangerous.7 With speaking it's the opposite: the two dovetailed beautifully. Works to your advantage.

Finally, what should one do about html? Hacking is something you learn best by doing it. So if you make it clear you're going to have to do to get the attention of an audience is to give people everything you've got, right away. I think, 24 hours to say yes or no answer to that question.8 My vote is they're a bad idea, for example, are working on an Ajax calendar. This pattern suggests that attitudes at Stanford and Berkeley are not an anomaly. Most were emerging from twenty or so years of being told what to do. He had all of us roaring with laughter. Imagine picking out apples at a grocery store.9 I must have been to till the same fields your whole life with the aim of being their Thanksgiving dinner. But it worked so well that we plan to do all our investing this way, or the large sums of money involved, but investment negotiations can easily turn personal.10 The most important quality is in a startup depends mainly on how smart and energetic you are, and much less on how old you are or how much business experience you have.

Not all ideas of that type.11 But that wears off after a few months I realized that what I'd been unconsciously hoping to find there was back in the place I'd just left. Instead of just tweaking a spam till it gets through a copy of something they made, but they also laugh at someone who tells them a certain problem can't be solved. To start with, investors are letting founders cash out partially. But of course there were the usual nightmares associated with servers. Increasingly it will mean the people who think they don't need investors to start most companies; they can do a deal in 24 hours if they need it a lot. For example, most painters in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries used brownish colors. Prefix Syntax? The idea is basically that you sort search results not in order of bids, you can envision companies as holes. If I encourage too many people to apply to Y Combinator, which is low to them. I don't think any would have traded it for a job in a cubicle. There isn't so much a phone as a replacement for x.

If this succeeds you get a silicon valley in Germany, because you tend to be calmer and more upstanding; they don't need to do iffy things to get an edge, and don't want to because they have no redundancy.12 You just know someone knows something, and see if there's a limit on the number of people want a large amount.13 Arguably they've done a bad job of hiring otherwise. In the meantime I tried my best to imitate them. Could a trend based on them be that powerful? I've said before, is a way for writers to make money.14 But if you parse it all, your filter might degenerate into a mere html recognizer.15 They try to hide even the existence of these words for as long as a startup founder about whether it might be good to solve? In a language with prefix syntax, any function you define is effectively an operator. And why is it hard to get emails out of your inbox? If the iPad had come first, we wouldn't think of the iPhone as a phone; we'd think of it as a tablet small enough to hold up to your ear.

If you want to understand startups is to look at what you enjoy as guilty pleasures. But there are limits to how well this can be done, no matter how obscure you are now. Just as happens in college, you may also be ready to. Now most VCs know they should be funding grad students or even undergrads. That will tend to get fixed. Or could have been implemented as a couple hundred lines of Perl; in fact they do all look the same. But we should be able to clear our heads of lies we were told. So now I'd advise people to go ahead and start startups right out of college. The disadvantage of having a larger universe of tokens is that there are going to be fairly laborious no matter what, and the reason why, unlike other languages, Lisp has dialects. Well, if you're starting a company that will do something cool, the aim had better be to make money and maybe be cool, not to be cut out of the way as soon as you can, so you start learning from users what you should do is to sacrifice unpromising startups. The result is bronze, which is predicated on the idea.16 Don't realize what you're avoiding One reason people who've been out in the world won't save you.

After all, the companies selling smells on the moon base could continue to sell them on the Earth, if they lobbied successfully for laws requiring us all to continue to breathe through tubes if they could avoid it. Most investors, especially VCs, are not like founders. But that's something you can do, but assume the worst about machines and other people. But those aren't the only reasons parents don't want their teenage kids having sex are complex.17 Some we helped with technical advice—for example, finding the recipient's email address base-64 encoded anywhere in a message is a very good spam indicator.18 We'll start with the one everyone's born with. Not just founders, but investors too.

Notes

Because we want to avoid this problem and yet managed to find users to recruit manually—is probably part of grasping evolution was to backtrack and try another approach.

You end up.

You won't hire all those 20 people at once, or want tenure, avoid casual conversations with VCs suggest it's roughly correct to say exactly what constitutes research in the sense that if you were going to need to be the only one founder take fundraising meetings is that as you get nothing. Come to think of the money.

Ed. Good news: users don't care about may not understand you at a Demo Day. What happens in practice is that the big winners aren't all that value, don't worry about the paperwork there, and don't want to sell earlier than you otherwise would have met 30 people he meets at parties he's a real idea that evolves into Facebook is a trailing indicator in any case, because you have for one user. These anti-immigration people to claim that companies will one day be able to fool investors with such tricks, you'd get ten times as much effort it costs.

It might also be argued that we wrote in order to win. But one of these people.

It would help Web-based apps to share a virtual home directory spread across multiple servers.

I used a technicality to get into a big chunk of stock options than any other company has to be most attractive when it's their own itinerary through no-land, while simultaneously implying that lies believed for a certain threshold. And while this sort of things you sell.

Heirs will be. For founders who had to push founders to have kids soon. These false positive rate is 10%, moving to Monaco would only give you money for. The point where things start with consumer electronics.

Could you endure studying literary theory, or to be doctors?

We're sometimes disappointed when a wolf appears, is not writing the agreement, but I'm not against editing. It will require more than that total abstinence is the odds are slightly worse. Some VCs will try to start some vaguely benevolent business. I was surprised to find it hard to do would be very hard and doesn't get paid to work for us now to appreciate how important a duty it must have seemed to someone still implicitly operating on the order of 10,000 sestertii apiece for slaves learned in the evolution of the word programmers care about, just try to accept a particular valuation, or editions with the high-fiber diet is to discount knowledge that at some of these titles vary too much to hope for, but when that happens, it tends to be staying at a pre-money valuation of zero.

There is no different from technology companies between them so founders can get very emotional. Something similar happens with suburbs. I remember the eyes of phone companies are up-front capital intensive to founders.

The person who would have for a smooth one. But that solution has broader consequences than just salary.

There are circumstances where this is not merely blurry versions of great things were created mainly to make more money was the fall of 2008 the terms they were, they'd have taken one of the main effect of this essay I'm talking here about academic talks, which is to the year x in a time, because the danger of chasing large investments is not one of those you should. How much more attractive to investors. When governments decide how to achieve wisdom is that there could be done at a friend's house for the board to give him 95% of spam, for example, MySpace is basically a replacement mall for mallrats.

In-Q-Tel that is actually a great reputation and they're clearly working fast to get into a pattern, as Prohibition and the Imagination by Hilbert and Cohn-Vossen.

A company will either be a trivial enhancement of HTTP, to a degree in design is any better than his peers will get funding, pretty much regardless of how to value potential dividends. So in effect what the rule of thumb, the increasing complacency of managements. Since capital is no longer play that role, it increases your confidence in a rice cooker, if the current options suck enough. Yes, actually: dealing with the bad idea, at least for those founders.

College English Departments Come From?

Microsoft must know in the country it's in. I used a TV as a source of food. Or rather indignant; that's the main emotion I've observed; but it is not just something the automobile, the second type to go to a college that limits their options?

Now many tech companies don't advertise this. I think the main effect of this model was that they aren't. This wipes out the existing shareholders, including the numbers we have to go out running or sit home and watch TV, go ahead. Jessica Livingston's Founders at Work.

Thanks to Richard Jowsey, Bob Frankston, Geoff Ralston, James Bracy, rew Mason, Abby Kirigin, Chip Coldwell, Sam Altman, and Marc Andreessen for the lulz.

[were-cheetah-stiles]

The Recruit (Chapter 11) - Mitch Rapp

Author: @were-cheetah-stiles

Title: “Day 62″

Characters: Mitch Rapp, Stan Hurley, Beth, Dan Brunski, Peter Collins, Jacob Clemens & Reader/OFC

Warnings: Separation anxiety, anxiety, somewhat detailed description of sexual assault/attempted rape.

IM SERIOUS DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU ARE EASILY TRIGGERED. you can always just message me and ask me what important plot you missed.

Author’s Note: “y/n/n” means your nickname, like if your name can be shortened to something, if it can’t then just go with your name. “y/f/i” means the first initial of your first name. 

Summary: Mitch is forced to take a day trip with Stan to the Ghost Protocol Training facilities, and y/n takes off for New York City to see someone from her past.

Chapter Ten - Chapter Eleven - Chapter Twelve

"Y/n/n.. Y/n/n..." Mitch whispered and nudged you awake. "Hey, hey... it's me." You flinched backwards in your bed, your legs struggling to get you upright fast enough under your sheets. You were clearly having a nightmare about the attack. Mitch wanted to leave even less.

"What's going on? Why are you dressed?" You asked groggily.

"I heard Stan telling Aiden that he'd be gone for a couple of days so I went and slept in my room after you fell asleep. I was worried he’d come in my room and I wouldn’t be there."

"You're leaving?"

Mitch held up Joseph Heller's novel, Catch-22.

"You're going back to Ghost.."

"Yea and I've gotta go now. I told Stan that I'd be down in a minute, I was just stealing one of your books. I'll only be gone for a day."

"Be careful." You looked up at him with emotional eyes, and he nodded.

"I will." Mitch leaned down and left a lingering, sad kiss on your lips.

"Don’t go." was what you wanted to say but didn't. You watched him walk out the door, your book in his hand, and you sunk back into your pillow. It was still dark out. You glanced up at the bookcase on your wall and saw the space where Catch-22 had been. It was the first time that he had left in a month and you were anything but excited to go through the day without him. You decided you wouldn't.

The perks of being Stan's niece and de facto daughter, coupled with the fact that you had been at The Barn for forever  was that you had more free reign around here than basically any one else. You also had your Uncle's cellphone number. You waited for it to be light out and grabbed the burner phone that Stan had given you from the loose floor board under your bed. It was dead. You rolled your eyes and waited for it to charge. The phone finally turned on and you sat on the floor next to the outlet, composing a text to your uncle.

Y/N: hey.. can you text Aiden or Campbell or someone and tell them to give me a personal day?

Stan: everything ok, kid?

Y/N: yea, i just realized that last week was Dad's bday and I didn't go to the grave. I was going to drive up to NYC and visit.

Stan: I'll be back tomorrow, want to wait and I'll come with u?

Y/N: I'd like to go today if that's okay.

Stan: I'll call Aiden and tell him not to expect u today

You walked over to your closet and grabbed a tight black skirt with buttons down the front, a striped blue and white long sleeved top, your thigh-high suede black boots, and your heavier black bomber jacket. You heard the phone vibrate on your dresser and you walked over, your boots slumping around your calves as you hadn't tied them against your thighs yet.

Stan: BMW is gassed up. Be back by tomorrow morning. Take ur phone with u.

You tied your boots up, grabbed your keys out of their hiding place in the floor, and replaced the board. You walked on your tip-toes as not to let your noisy heels hit the wooden floors and wake up anyone in the house. It was barely 5:15 in the morning and everyone was pretty much still asleep. 

You walked down to the garage level of the house, which was restricted to everyone but you, Stan, and the other instructors, Aiden, Campbell, and Smith, and unlocked the door. You turned over the engine of your E52 Z8 BMW convertible coup, a classic car that your father had owned, you had inherited upon his death and that Stan gave to you when you got your driver's license in high school. You pulled open the glove box and took your iPhone, charger, sunglasses and wallet out and laid them on the seat next to you. You plugged your iPhone in and watched the screen light up for the first time in ages. You pushed the button for the garage door and peeled out onto the gravel road that led away from The Barn and into downtown Williamsburg, Virginia. You hadn't left the premises by yourself in a long time.

You took the top down, regardless of the fact that it was only the middle of March and it was still cold, and enjoyed the passing scenery and fresh air on Interstate 95 going North to New York City. You typed out a quick text on your iPhone as you drove through early morning D.C. traffic. You got a "see you at noon." text message in reply, and threw your phone back on the seat beside you. 

You admired the view of Manhattan as you crossed the George Washington Bridge from New Jersey into New York and made your way onto a familiar block. You parallel parked, got out of your car, locked it and walked up to the beautiful brownstone apartment across the street. You rang the buzzer and waited for a familiar face to open the door.

"Hey Beth."

You sat on the comfy couch and tried to remember the last time you had been in that room. It hadn't been even six months but it felt like it had been forever.

"I'm not used to seeing you this time of year, Y/N, what are you doing up here?"

You rubbed your arm and glanced around the room. "Did you have to cancel any appointments to fit me in?"

"Y/N/N, you're avoiding my question and eye contact. What's going on? Is my Dad okay?"

You sighed and looked at the girl in front of you. She was two years older than you, beautiful and tall, with platinum blonde hair and long legs. "Stan's fine, Beth." You told your cousin.

"You're not fine though. Did something happen at The Barn?" Beth stared at you, waiting for you to stop being evasive. "You're the one who came up here, Y/f/i. I'll cancel all my patients for the day if I have to, you're going to talk to me. You never just come up out of no where."

You stared down at your hands. You dug your fingernails under each other when you were nervous, a habit that Beth was surprised to see since you had been trained to not do it anymore. "We still have doctor-patient confidentiality, right? Even though I haven't seen you in a while?"

"You ask me this every year, and every year the answer is always yes. These meetings stay off the record, there is no chart, and my Dad never finds out you saw me. What does he think you're doing up here anyway?" Beth asked her younger cousin, a girl that she grew up with as a sister when you moved into Beth’s house after your family died in the terror attacks on September 11th.

"My Dad's birthday was last week and he thinks I'm down in the dumps about it, and I told him that I was going to bring flowers to their graves." You finally gave Beth a straight answer.

"Are you down in the dumps about it?"

"Of course... but.." You sighed. You didn't know where to start.

"Start from the beginning, Y/f/i." Beth told you.

"I met someone."

Beth's face lit up. "At The Barn?"

You nodded. "His name is Mitch, and B, he's the best I've ever seen. Stan has completely taken him under his wing and he's training him personally, and he keeps trying to trip him up andget him to fail, but he hasn’t yet. Stan has been, like, whisking him away for special sessions.."

"Wow, he really must be good then." Beth commented, a surprised look on her face. "Did something happen between you two? Did you get caught or something and he got kicked out or..?"

"No, no, no.. he's great. I'm really happy with him and we've only been together, together for a like week or so. He's not why I'm here... well, I mean, your Dad took him on some special assignment before the sun even came up this morning, so his lack of being around is why I'm here, but he and our relationship are not the issue." You were babbling.

"What is?" Beth inquired, watching her cousin's bizarre mannerisms. You weren't acting like yourself at all.

You rubbed your hand against your nose and mouth and scratched at the corner of your eye. You weren't ready to talk about this. "About..." You cleared your throat and sighed. "About a month and a half ago, these three guys tried to rape me in the shower at the main house."

"WHAT?! y/n.. shit, what are you talking about? Does my Dad know?"

"What do you think?" You looked up at Beth with a deadpan look on your face.

"What happened?" Beth fought the urge to scrap her professionalism and embrace her beloved adopted-sister and best friend.

"There were these three guys, Dan Brunski was the main aggressor. Peter Collins and Jacob Clemens were his... lackey's essentially. Clemens being much more involved and much less remorseful than Collins... and anyway, Dan Brunski clearly is the kind of rich white kid who has never been told 'no' in his life and he either liked me or just wanted to fuck me or hates women and wanted to brag about conquering me or was just a regular old sociopath, I really have no idea. But he kept making all these really aggressive advances on me and I was not giving him the time of day. I had definitely humiliated him a few different times in front of multiple other trainees, and he just, I don't know, really internalized it all."

"So what happened?"

"Well, first he accused me of sleeping with Stan and said that was the only reasonable explanation as to how I got into the program. That pissed me off so I punched him in the face. I gave him a bloody nose and it wasn't a big deal."

"Your idea that assault is not a big deal is so far from the reality of what a big deal is, y/n/n." Beth interjected.

You shrugged. "He tried to make a few moves on me, cornering me in the woods or trying to slide his hand up my thigh during class, and I shut that shit down every time... Then Mitch got to The Barn and we had this weird instant connection."

"And Dan was watching you more closely than the other trainees?" Beth had seen the behavior before.

You nodded. "Yea, I guess he was. Honestly, he probably realized that there was something going on between Mitch and I before Mitch and I even did. But one morning, Dan snuck into my room while I was still asleep, he covered my mouth and tried to get under my blankets with me.. to rape me." The breath hitched in Beth's throat and her stomach did a flip. It was one thing when her patients told her these things, but it was another thing when the story was coming from someone she loved dearly. "I stopped him, but he was like 'I see the way you and Mitch are with each other. If you're willing to suck his dick, why won't you suck mine. I know you're a slut. I won't make you beg for it the way he does.' and whatever... I threw his ass out of my room, but Mitch sleeps literally across the hall from me, and he heard the tail end of the interaction, and that was when he knew something was wrong."

"Y/n, this Dan guy sounds like he's done this before, how is he at The Barn? How'd he get through the vetting?" Beth asked.

"I don't know." You shook your head. "But later that day, him and Collins, Clemens and a guy named Brian Keller, tried to attack me in the woods. Mitch stopped it before anything could happen. A consequence, not related to the attack, got Brian Keller kicked out of the program no more than ten minutes later, and Dan blamed Mitch and I."

"So he became more angry, and it accelerated his actions, huh?"

"Later that night, I was taking a shower and I hadn't been in there for more than a few minutes but it was late because Mitch and I had been working out together late and no one else was in there, Dan, Clemens, and Collins.. well, Dan and Clemens... Collins was the lookout. They came in the bathroom, ambushed me in the shower.." Your eyebrow furrowed as you thought back to the incident in detail. "Clemens held... he held my arms back against the wall and Dan stood in front of me, touching my naked body with his hands. He was getting undressed and telling me that him and Clemens were going to take turns and I was going to love it and if I didn't that they would kill Mitch and then they'd kill me." Beth had tears in her eyes as she listened to the story. "Dan... he.." You wiped a tear from your own eye. "He stuck a finger inside of me, while Clemens covered my mouth and hit me across the face every time I tried to scream. I knew, I knew I couldn't take the two of them on at once, so I had to wait. Finally, I became more compliant, just waiting to get the upper hand, and Clemens left so that Dan could rape me. I got on my knees in front of him, and he.. he put his dick in my hand and made me stroke him while he was hard..." You shut your eyes and shook your head, tears streamed down your face. "That was when I heard the bathroom door open and I knew it had to have been Mitch, everyone else was asleep, and we had worked out so hard earlier that we both had to shower or else it would've been disgusting the next day."

Beth nodded, and you continued. "Dan grabbed me off the floor, pulled me against him, and covered my mouth. I tried to climb the walls but they were too slippery, I tried to hurt him and kick at the curtain, but he restrained me. I think Mitch may have already been suspicious by Collins and Clemens just... loitering in the bathroom, and he knew it was my towel.... I kicked the tile hard enough that it made a noise and Mitch pounced into action. He held off Clemens and Collins, which gave me the opportunity to finally take on Dan."

"What'd Mitch do?" Beth asked, her face portraying how devastated she was.

"He broke Clemens' wrist and knocked him out, and he broke seven of Collins' teeth against a sink. He broke the sink with Collins' face."

"Did he help you with Dan?"

You shook your head. "I didn't need it. By the time Mitch got through the other two, I was bashing Dan's head against the shower stall. I broke his cheekbone and temporal bone."

"Good." Beth gritted her teeth.

"Mitch took care of me that night. He literally dressed me in his clothes, put me in his bed, sat in a chair in the corner of the room, and watched me sleep the rest of the night." You remembered, fondly and painfully, how wonderful he had been that night.

"What happened when my Dad found out?"

"I never told him. The only people who actually know what happened are me, Mitch, Brunski, Clemens and Collins."

"You never told Stan?" Beth asked again.

You huffed, a part of you thought that Beth would understand why you had kept the secret. "Your Dad raised me.. he's in charge of my fate as a CIA agent, do you know how hard it would've been to tell him that story and have him never look at me the same again or think that I couldn't handle the job. This shit happens to women in the field, Beth. It just does. They've dealt with it and so have I." You raised your voice at Beth.

"Are you dealing with it though, y/n/n?" Beth raised her voice right back. "What happened to Dan and the other two?"

"Dan had to get facial reconstructive surgery.. multiple surgeries from what I hear. Collins and Clemens were gone for a while, but now that they can both fight again, they're back at The Barn."

"So you're just living with your attackers?! y/n, holy shit. This is insane." Beth was getting more and more upset.

"Beth..."

"What about Mitch? I'm surprised he hasn't told Stan.... He has to know how ridiculous this is."

You lowered your eyes from Beth. "...He's wanted to tell Stan from the start, but he hasn't because I asked him not to."

"That's bullshit, y/n/n, and you know it."

"Beth, you're losing your therapist hat right now.." You warned your cousin.

Beth shook her head and tried to regain her composure. She leaned forward and looked at you. "What happens when you try to have a relationship with another man, Y/N? Like Mitch, for example."

"Mitch and I finally had sex about a week ago."

"How'd it go?" Beth knew that you were about to prove her point.

"It was hard... at first, but Mitch.. he kept me in the moment and he was tender and he was there holding me and making sure I knew it was just us and he would stop if I needed." You divulged your secrets to Beth.

"What happens when Mitch wants to be a little rougher in the bedroom? Maybe do it doggy style or something less 'tender'? What happens then, y/n? Are you having any side effects from what happened? Panic attacks? Flashbacks? Nightmares?"

"Yes."

"Which?"

"......All of those."

Beth sighed. "Oh, y/f/i... fuck." She got up and hugged you, then sat on the couch next to you. "If this happened a month and a half ago, why are you only telling me now?"

You leaned back against the arm of the couch, and looked at Beth. "I thought that there would be some improvement by now, and there just hasn't been and I want to be with Mitch. I am falling for him, but I am never going to be able to give him everything of me, and he is always going to walk on eggshells around me, if I can't figure this shit out." You wiped a tear from falling down your cheek. “On top of that, the nightmares and the panic attacks. I don’t know how much longer I can hide them.”

"You've gotta get rid of those guys.. if Dan comes back.."

"I know." You confirmed that you understood that no good could or would come from Dan Brunski returning to The Barn.

"Getting rid of your attackers is the first step. Coming back up here and talking to me in a more regular fashion would be a good second step.. the rest of it, y/f/i, unfortunately, the rest of it is just time and talking. Talking about it, confronting what happened, whether it be with Stan, or Mitch, or me, or someone else, not letting it be a secret.. it'll lose it's power over you. Communication will also help in regards to being intimate with Mitch. Be explicit with what you expect and what you want and what you're struggling with."

"And then time."

"You're just going to have to wait. 'Time heals all wounds', you know?" Beth reiterated an old saying, and took her cousin's hands in her own. "Y/f/i, I am so sorry that this happened to you. I know they prepare you for the possibility of it happening in the field, but at training?" Beth shook her head. "It's not fair. I could kill those guys."

"You sound like Mitch." You said with a small and short chuckle.

Beth leaned back on the couch, copying you. "What's he like?"

"Intense... and smart and kind and so. fucking. sexy. Beth, oh my god." You couldn't help but laugh.

"How old is he?"

"My age. A few months younger, but he doesn't act it. He's been through some shit too. I don't know. He's amazing. He's kind and witty and he has a smile that just knocks me to the ground, every time." You were grinning. "You know, Easter is coming up..."

"Dad's doing the cover story exercise?"

"I think so. I told Mitch about it and we thought we'd come up here for the break. Maybe you could meet him." You offered.

"I'd love that." Beth glanced at the clock. "Oh shit.. I have someone waiting in the waiting room."

You shook your head. "It's okay. I have to get to the cemetery before it closes anyway. I'll see you in a couple weeks?"

Beth nodded and hugged you.

You drove around Manhattan for an hour, revisiting old haunts and hangouts, but avoiding the Lower East Side, where you grew up. You brought flowers to the 9/11 Memorial fountains and placed them on your parents and brother's names. You got back in your car and drove to the cemetery. You placed flowers at their graves and sat to talk to them for a while, then got back on the road. 

It was late and you didn't want to have to get a hotel and drive early in the morning to get back before shooting range at 0700. Your iPhone rang and "S" popped up on your caller I.D. You picked it up.

"Hey."

"Hey. How was it?" Stan asked through the speaker.

"Fine. Thanks for letting me go. I needed it. Talked to them, got some pizza, I feel re-energized." You only told half the story.

"Anytime. You on your way back?" Stan usually used nicknames for you, just like Beth did, but he wasn't so you knew that Stan wasn't alone.

"Yea, I just passed into Maryland on 95. You?"

"Just got in the car. I'll see you tomorrow then."

"Yep."

Stan hung up the call. You shifted the car into fifth gear and sped back to The Barn.

You pulled onto the gravel road back to The Barn behind Stan's black SUV. You smiled because you knew that Mitch was inside. You pulled into your spot in the garage and threw your iPhone, wallet, and charger back in the glove compartment. Stan shook his head at you as he got out of his own car. It was so much easier to hide the truth when none of the recruits knew that you had access to a car and they did not. 

Mitch stepped out and tried to act surprised, although, he was surprised since you never mentioned that the classic BMW in the garage was yours, or at least, yours to drive. You pocketed your keys, nodded at Mitch and Stan, and walked inside.

"How does y/n have a car here?" Mitch asked Stan as they followed you up the stairs.

"She's been here for three years, Rapp. She gets some amenities that the rest of you will eventually earn as well." Stan lied. You had a car because you were his niece and, unlike the other recruits who got to go home on breaks, The Barn essentially had been your home for the past few years. Letting you keep a car there was the least Stan could do. "Don't worry about it, Rapp. Just go to bed. You did well today."

"Thank you, sir."

Mitch headed off after you. He looked at his watch. It was just past midnight.

What’d you guys think? Let me know! and as always, if you’d like to be tagged. Get your requests in soon for the Recruit, because I will probably stop taking tag requests in the near future for this series.

@chivesoup @confidentrose @alexhmak @dontstopxx @iloveteenwolf24 @surpeme-bean @snek-shit @kalista-rankins @parislight @cleverassbutt @damndaphneoh @mgpizza2001 @chionophilic-nefelibata @sarcasticallystilinski @teenage-dirtbagbaby @mrs-mitch-rapp93 @alizaobrien @twsmuts @rrrennerrr @sorrynotsorrylovesome @iknowisoundcrazy @5secsxofamnesia @vogue-sweetie @therealmrshale @twentyone-souls @sunshineystilinski @snicketyssnake @xsnak-3x

[exoticarmy127]

The Bad in Each Other (V, OC) Scenario

Another spy story for ya’ll. This one is slightly different than the others though. Following previous one shots: Baby, I Got Your Back and Agent AF7

ISAIA Headquarters

4:03 A.M.

Taehyung stood still as a statue. His back stiflingly straight as his eyes stared ahead with no particular focal point. He had his arms locked behind him; fists closed tight as he took in his superior’s reproach.

In front of him, Suho stood tall with hardened eyes, reprimanding him profusely the moment he was called in after his failed mission not long ago. It was late (or early), but the agency never slept and it’s not like Taehyung would be sleepy after a night of adrenaline—not to mention a night of unexpected circumstances that happened just a few hours ago.

“Do you eve realize the consequences of your actions, Agent AF9?” Suho spat and Taehyung clenched his jaw to hide the wince he felt from the inside. Taehyung might be taller than him but the man exhibited authority and was one of the best agents of ISAIA. There was a reason why he was at his position now; leading the agency through its various operations. He looked up to Suho a lot and considered him a role model. It was one of the reasons why Taehyung always made sure to do well in training—to succeed in the missions given to him.

And he did, he always did. He didn’t become a level A agent if he didn’t.

But tonight, he just might get himself a demotion for what he had done. Maybe stripped from his badge if Suho were to know the complete truth about his slip-up.

“I know, sir.” Taehyung answered stiffly, face hard and impassive.

“Oh you know?” Suho chuckled, but it was anything but amused. “You knew and yet tonight still happened. Your mistake almost cost us the whole mission! Cost an agent’s life, Kim.” Taehyung winced at that, knowing Suho only called agents by their surnames when he was mad. Really mad. “You should have known better. The plan was so simple…”

It was, Taehyung thought, feeling the regret gnawing at him from within. He had the mission mapped in his head and he knew what to do like the back of his hand. It was simple: implant the bomb and burn the place down. He had trained well enough and worked long enough in this agency to know “better”. And yet he still did it. He messed up… he chose to mess up and let the enemy get away.  

“Why, Taehyung?” Suho asked, echoing his own question that has been pestering him since the mission failed. “You don’t make mistakes,” the man added, voice almost soft—imploring. Taehyung was one of the best agents of ISAIA and he hardly ever made any slip-up’s this serious.

“There was a mistake in the installation of the explosives, sir. A wiring issue I had overlooked and it prevented the trigger from working. It won’t happen again, I assure you. I apologize and will take whatever punishment.”

Suho didn’t speak at his explanation, taking it in. Taehyung was a good liar but Suho didn’t say that he had been supervising the whole mission earlier that night and he knew for sure Taehyung could have gone home successfully. There wasn’t a faulty wire. Taehyung chose to fail and the older was confused as to why he would sacrifice the mission so willingly; even risk his and another agent’s life in the process.

He sighed, suddenly feeling too old for this. They are grown men—agents, for goodness sake, he grumbled. They aren’t school boys that get punished.

“I think you need to apologize to agent AI4, and maybe her wrath can be your punishment.”

Taehyung’s eye twitched a little, glad that the punishment wasn’t all bad…

“Also, you’re suspended from missions till the end of the month. You’ll train the recruits for now.”

Taehyung swallowed to keep the whine from coming out—that petulant side of him that wanted to protest. He would take 500 push-ups, even take an errand across the globe than train recruits. It’s not that it was bad… training just bored him. Everything happened so slowly in the recruit’s training facility.

“You’re dismissed. Let’s not make a second mistake like this again, understood?” Suho said sternly before turning from him and moving to his desk to return to his laptop. Taehyung nodded once before turning around as well, thinking how this wasn’t the first mistake, no…

His first mistake was getting attached in the first place.

Once upon a time, Taehyung was part of a mob empire operating in Seoul. They did some illegal dealings, from illicit drug trading to human trafficking; things Taehyung wouldn’t be so proud to tell knowing the despicable things he had done…

Long story short: he worked for some really bad people and that made him a really bad guy too.

It was only a few years ago when Taehyung decided this wasn’t the life he wanted. He always knew he was doing the wrong thing by staying with his so-called family. But that was exactly why he couldn’t just leave…

When Taehyung had been abandoned when he was just a baby, left in a small box beside a dumpster in a secluded alleyway, it was Black—Arthur Black, the leader of their organization, who took him in. Black raised him like he would his own son and gave him shelter to live in, clothes to wear, food to eat, with the added bonus of everything and anything money could every buy. The money may have been stolen or acquired through their illicit trades but it gave Taehyung a chance to live. Black gave him a home and Taehyung should only be grateful.

But that didn’t mean he liked it every time he saw an innocent man get shot in the head for not meeting their code of standards; when he saw women being kidnapped and dragged into their brothels, and even when children were brought into their world—tainting their innocence and scarring them for life.

Taehyung ignored it for years, swallowing down the bile at the sight of blood and death; turning his cheek from their cries and calls for help.

When Black died (shot in his own home), the more Taehyung felt lost and afraid, and the thought of escape became even more palpable. He knew he was no longer safe here—he never was, and it was only a matter of time before one of those bullets pierced through his own skull.

He was 16 when the new leader was appointed and Taehyung knew it was the perfect time to escape now that he was no longer under the limelight. It’s true that almost anyone within the organization knew of him but now that a new leader has been inducted, everyone would have their eyes on him and Taehyung would soon blend into the background as merely a man operating on the inside.

Wang Joo was a big man with an even bigger ego. Taehyung was neither close to him nor was he a stranger in the man’s eyes considering Taehyung’s close relations with Black. The two just waded on the acquaintance zone.

Taehyung wouldn’t say he disliked the man but he was no fan of him either having been familiar with his operations. Taehyung was familiar with everybody and their jobs… making him almost like a walking database.

But he still wasn’t God, and so he wasn’t all-knowing…

He never knew Wang Joo had a daughter.

And nothing could have prepared him for that.

“Where you off to?” asked agent AF7, also known as Jeon Jungkook, a man Taehyung trusted with his life within the agency. Jungkook was the one who brought him into ISAIA six years ago. Although the guy was two years younger than him, he was far more good at what he does and was even one of his trainers during his recruitment years. Jungkook had it in his blood, everybody knew that for his father was an agent of ISAIA too, and Taehyung was grateful for that day they met. If it wasn’t for him, he wouldn’t have started over. He would still be killing people instead of saving them. Jungkook somewhat showed him a better purpose, and he was thankful for that.

“Home,” Taehyung sighed as he shoved his hand into the pockets of his slacks. “You?”

“Mission,” Jungkok mumbled, head down and tapping away on his iPhone.

“Where to?”

“London,” he answered just as the elevator doors opened. “Heard you got suspended.”

Taehyung huffed. News sure traveled fast… “Yeah.”

“Should I be disappointed?” Jungkook finally looked at him but his expression was anything but disappointed. In fact, he only looked curious, like he knew Taehyung had a reason why he had done what he did.

“You should.” Taehyung answered curtly as he stepped out. “I’ll see you later. Good luck on the mission.”

Jungkook nodded as Taehyung moved to walk away, feeling the guilt gnawing at him from within. Jungkook was a good friend and he owed a lot to him to get to where he is now. He didn’t want him to think that all those training didn’t mean anything… that he hadn’t moved on or changed…

But the mission last night proved just how much he clung to his past and Taehyung felt ashamed of himself.

“Hey, hyung!” Jungkook called, keeping a finger pressed to the open button to keep the elevator from closing. Taehyung looked over his shoulder, eyebrows raised in question.

“Hmm?”

Jungkook paused for a moment before saying, “Whatever you did, I know you did it because you knew it was the right thing.”

Taehyung’s eyes widened slightly, unsure how to react. Jungkook gave him a small smile and added, “Don’t beat yourself up for it too much.”

Jungkook was about the release his hold on the button when Taehyung asked, “How do you know that?”

Jungkook looked up at him then, eyes glinting mischievously. “Because I’ve messed up in missions too, and I only do that when I think it’s the right thing to do, even if it jeopardizes my life,” he said casually. “And besides, I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t know you were capable of knowing right from wrong… right?”

Before Taehyung could reply, Jungkook nodded and gave him a curt “see you” as the doors closed; leaving him all the more confused about his choices.

Flashback

“Have you ever wondered what it would be like if we went to school?”

Taehyung glanced to his left, seeing her hair covering the side of her face as she fiddled with a pistol. He thought he never looked more gorgeous then with the gun in her hand even if the case was practically empty.

“School?” Taehyung echoed. “Hmm. Not really…”

“Didn’t you ever want to go to school, Tae?”

“What’s so special about it anyway?” he said instead, pulling his knee up and hanging his arm on it. “Last time I checked, kids are trying to get out of it.”

She chuckled then and Taehyung felt himself smile at the sound. He glanced at her again, catching her face lit up with mirth; her warm brown eyes turning into crescents and Taehyung felt his heart constrict—in a good way.

“I guess you’re right. I just… I don’t know. I thought it’d be nice to go to school, you know? Hang out with a group of friends, complain about having too much homework…” she paused and Taehyung tried to imagine himself in that kind of setting. He had to admit it felt nice. He wondered what would be like to attend college, take his bachelor’s, choose his own career path…

“And maybe go out on dates with your boyfriend…” she added and Taehyung whipped his head towards her at the suggestion, a smile creeping to his face.

“I’m getting a sense you’re not really in it for the ‘learning’.” Taehyung commented which made them laugh. He then reached out to take her hand, their fingers intertwining before resting on her lap. “We can always go on a date, if you want.”

She snorted. “Yeah, like my dad will let me go out without at least two guys following me.”

Taehyung chewed on his lip for a moment, thinking. He then leaned over to her, his lips grazing her ear just as an idea sparked in him.

“We don’t have to let them know…” he drawled, voice dipping low. “Just you and me. Tonight. I’ll take you wherever you want.”

She shivered at his words before looking at him slyly. Taehyung had that mischievous glint in his eyes and she wanted nothing more but to kiss him till they were both breathless.

“Why Taehyung, are you asking me to sneak out?”

Taehyung grinned and leaned against the wall, laughing breathlessly. He placed a hand over his heart before glancing at her with a wink. “You always did bring out the worse in me.”

She chuckled before kissing his cheek, and Taehyung blushed at the contact. Even more so when she replied, “Anywhere. I’ll go anywhere with you.”

End of flashback

2 days later

“Let’s wrap it up! You guys are dismissed.”

The recruits gave a chorused thanks and goodbye before leaving the training room one by one. Taehyung smiled at them, clapping some boys on the shoulder and telling them how they trained well for the day.

He didn’t love handling recruits but he didn’t exactly hate it either. There were days when he liked being the teacher, sharing what he knows and training them into becoming good agents the way some of his superiors did to him. ISAIA gave him another chance… Jungkook, Suho, and the rest of the people in the agency gave him a second chance to change; trusted him to be someone other than that boy who lived his life doing awful things from years before.

“Hey teacher, class over?”

Taehyung looked up at the familiar voice and smirked, “Agent AI4, fancy seeing you here.”

Agent AI4, Ariane Park, strolled into the room still in her fight gear. Her dark hair was tied in a ponytail and she was balancing a helmet on her right hip.

She rolled her eyes, “Drop the formalities and take me to dinner, Kim. I’m starved.”

“How forward,” Taehyung chuckled as he removed his gloves. He turned towards her, biting his lip and conjuring his “seductive” gaze. “Didn’t know you wanted to date me so badly. I’m flattered.”

Ariane looked insulted at that and looked ready to murder to which Taehyung held his hands up in mocked surrender—laughing. Since he almost got her killed at their last mission, Taehyung had to treat her food whenever she liked for the next two months. He secretly prayed for his wallet upon the agreement. “I was kidding, chill. Just let me get ready and we can go wherever you want.”

Ariane stuck out his tongue at him and turned to leave. “Yeah, I’ll meet you downstairs. Just have to get out of my gear—”

“Do you need help with that—whoa!” Taehyung dodged swiftly to the right, the blade missing him by an inch before hitting the target at the far wall. He looked at Ariane incredulously while the latter merely smiled at him sweetly. It looked sinister.

“You were saying?”

“Nothing…”

“Nothing what?”

“Nothing, mam.” Taehyung gulped as he watched her walk away. Taehyung admired Ariane a lot and they he had chosen to pair with her in most missions—so much that people began to think they were partners. They weren’t. They just worked well enough with each other. They still preferred going solo.

There wasn’t any form of romantic inclination between them. They were both attractive, sure, but they knew better than to mix work with relationships. Attachments were never ideal when your job involved fighting off criminals who could use said attachments to your disadvantage. Dating was an unspoken prohibition in the agency.

Besides, Taehyung only ever had eyes for one…

At the thought, the sinking feeling in his chest returned, remembering the failed mission… Remembering how an attachment was exactly what caused this mess in the first place.

He sighed and prepared to leave; praying Ariane wasn’t in the mood to order the whole damn menu like last time.

After dinner, Taehyung walked back to his apartment alone; taking the longer route as he wanted to take a stroll. It was past 10 P.M. and the streets leading to his neighborhood was almost empty. He walked silently, his shoes making splat noises at each step against the pavement. It was wet from the slight drizzle that afternoon and Taehyung was glad the rain stopped as the commute would have been problematic.

Being an agent had its perks… But it didn’t include chauffer services.

It did, however, include intensive training that heightened one’s senses, and that’s exactly how Taehyung knew he was being followed.

He had felt the presence tailing him from the restaurant. The footsteps were subtle and he had caught the shadow against the store window when he crossed the street at the first intersection he passed.

Taehyung wasn’t scared. He was far from that. He had a gun strapped to the waist band of his jeans, coupled with years of agency training at ISAIA. He battled criminals and survived bombings; he could take care of a little stalker.  

He was, however, curious and so his feet quickly made its way towards a different path, leading his stalker away from his place and towards a more secluded neighborhood where he can confront them without prying eyes.

The footsteps continued to follow him and Taehyung almost laughed at how obvious they were being. He turned left into an alleyway and slowed, his eyes and ears alert. It was eerily quiet as he stood there alone on the narrow alley, waiting. He took a deep breath and listened.

1… 2…3…

Click.

Got you, Taehyung thought and swiftly grabbed the gun from his waist band before turning around, pointing the weapon towards his pursuer.

His breath hitched, his resolve wavering slightly, the moment familiar brown eyes stared at him in alarm.

“Taehyung-ah.”

Taehyung wished his heart didn’t respond to that, but it beat rapidly against his chest anyway. He managed to keep a straight face, not letting his pursuer know that their mere presence had shaken him; had even managed to make his grip on the gun waver.

It’s been so long since he looked into those eyes…

It’s been so long since he had been this close to Wang Ji Eun.

“Are you going to shoot me?” she asked calmly, and Taehyung’s finger twitched on the trigger.

“Did you come with anyone?” Taehyung asked instead and Ji Eun immediately shook her head to which Taehyung scoffed. “That’s a bad move, Ji Eun… coming alone to the enemy.”

“I wasn’t tailing an enemy.” Ji Eun said matter-of-factly and Taehyung felt the last of his resolve slipping. He eyed her for a few seconds more, observing how her hair was cut short, falling just shy of her shoulders and framing her pretty face nicely. 

He then looked around for any sign of an intruder. The alley was empty and he can sense no other presence, confirming that she was telling the truth. He let his gun down slowly, but kept himself guarded still.

“What are you doing here?” Taehyung asked, clenching his fist to keep them in place; almost like he was afraid that if he didn’t, he just might reach out for her. “Why were you following me?”

Ji Eun placed her hands in her pockets, balancing her weight on the balls of her feet. She looked nervous; she looked like a little school girl with the way she was switching her weight from foot to foot and Taehyung wasn’t sure if he should be worried or amused.

“What is it?”

“Was… that your girlfriend? At the restaurant?”

Taehyung tilted his head, puzzled; not expecting the question at all. “Sorry, what?”

He wasn’t sure if he was imagining it but Ji Eun was blushing. “Never mind…” she mumbled and Taehyung felt somewhat giddy, seeing that she looked jealous just a split second ago.

“If she was, what about it?” he asked and immediately caught the disappointed expression on her face. It passed over her features briefly but Taehyung had seen it, and it made his heart drum.

“Then that’s…great,” she said, the last syllable sounding higher in intonation like she was asking a question… like she was unsure. “She’s pretty.”

“Do you think I’m that superficial to like someone just because they’re pretty?” Taehyung scoffed and crossed his arms.

“I don’t mean it like that. I’m just stating that she’s… just pretty.”

“Well I think we both know I don’t do ‘just pretty’” Taehyung quoted, trying to look offended though he was just amused by her jealousy. Before Ji Eun could retaliate, he added, “And no, she’s not my girlfriend. She’s just a friend.”

“That’s where it starts.” Ji Eun said in a hushed tone but Taehyung heard it loud and clear.

“We were friends too, you know?” he said, not missing a beat. Ji Eun pressed her lips in a thin line, taking a deep breath to calm her racing heart. It had always been like this when she was around Taehyung.

“Were friends,” she emphasized and Taehyung frowned at that. When Ji Eun finally looked back at him, she frowned deeply, noticing that bruise underneath his left eye. She suddenly remembered the reason why she had followed him and the images that resurfaced in her brain made her heart twist painfully.

“Why did you do it?” she asked meekly. “You could’ve caught them by setting off that bomb.”

Taehyung frowned upon the mention of the failed mission just a couple of nights ago. He could remember that night clearly: how he was hiding against the wall, keeping an eye on the goons before him while his thumb idled against the red button that would set the trigger off—to which he had about 30 seconds to get out of there quickly before the whole place explodes. Everything was going smoothly until he caught sight of familiar brown eyes; wide and surprised.

“You almost got yourself killed in there, Taehyung.” she scolded and Taehyung turned from her with a snicker, not wanting to hear it. “If only you would have set that trigger—”

“The warehouse would have exploded.” He finished for her, voice flat—almost robotic. “It would have caught fire and destroyed all those materials.”

“Yes, exactly!” Ji Eun exclaimed. “You could have destroyed those weapons, Tae! And now look… you let them get away! They’re going to trade them off to some militant group in the east and god knows what they’re going to do with those…”

“I already know, Ji Eun,” Taehyung rubbed his forehead, letting out a frustrated huff. “I don’t need another lecture.”

“Then why didn’t you just stop them?! If you knew what was going to happen, why didn’t you just let the trigger go off—”

“Because you were there!” Taehyung exploded, whirling to face her. Ji Eun was shocked by his outburst, stepping back shakily. Time seemed to be suspended as she stared at Taehyung who was breathing hard. He cursed and turned from her, dragging a hand over his face.

“You just had to be there,” he murmured. “Why did you have to be there, Ji Eun? That wasn’t part of where you should be operating. Did your father know—”

“It doesn’t matter if I was there…” Ji Eun snapped, trying to sound angry. But the quiver in her voice deceived her.

“Well, it mattered to me.” Taehyung spat and Ji Eun felt a sting in her eyes the moment he faced her; eyes swimming with sincerity. “You mattered to me, Ji Eun. And if I let that trigger go off then you would’ve been long dead by now.”

Ji Eun swallowed hard, not wanting to show how his concern affected her so much. They had separated a long time ago. Taehyung was supposed to have escaped, left and forgotten about her…

And yet here he was still caring, just like she did herself; crying herself to sleep in the past few years—angry at her family, angry at the life she was born into… but mostly sad that Taehyung had left her. It’s not that she blamed him… no. He asked her—pleaded for her to come with him…

I said no, she thought and angry tears spilled down her cheeks as the regret filled her up.

Before she could process what she was doing, she was already marching towards him, pounded on his chest with her fists.

“You’re so stupid!” She cried and Taehyung remained immobile, letting her shove him backwards. “Why did you—you’ve already escaped! You’re not supposed to save anyone… You were supposed to leave and forget!”

Taehyung’s face was a mask of pain as he caught her wrists to stop her from thrashing against his chest. He then pulled her form against him tightly and Ji Eun struggled for a second before melting into his embrace; leaning her forehead on his broad chest as the sobs hiccuped out of her.

He held her tight, wanting to squeeze all the pain away. He wished they didn’t have to live like this—live in separate worlds where both of their lives would always be at risk.

“Stop. Stop crying.” Taehyung said as he rubbed her back comfortingly. “I hate it when you cry.”

Ji Eun sniffed, gasping out the last of her tears. “Sorry.”

Taehyung sighed at that, the gesture sounding melancholy. “You shouldn’t be…” before Ji Eun could ask what he meant, he added, “Because if you didn’t cry, I wouldn’t have had the chance to hold you like this again.”

Ji Eun’s breath hitched at that, feeling Taehyung’s arms slipping around her waist, pulling her flush against him. Her body was on fire and it was crazy considering they were just hugging… but Taehyung always had a way of making her feel this way even before.

She looked up from his chest and as their eyes locked, something in them snapped. Before they knew what was happening, Taehyung had captured her lips in a passionate kiss, backing her up against the stone wall. They kissed fiercely, deeply, like they were breathing each other in. It may have been years since they’ve seen or held each other, but the fire never dwindled in the slightest—the passion still burning brightly in their hearts.

“Don’t…ask… me to leave again.” Taehyung murmured between kisses. “Because I won’t.”

“Tae—” Ji Eun was interrupted by another toe-curling kiss and she felt herself becoming dizzy.

“I’m not letting you go a second time, Ji Eun. I won’t—”

“Tae… they’ll kill you. If my father knew… they might even kill us both.”

“I can protect you. The agency, they’ll—”

“I don’t want you to get hurt.” Ji Eun cried, gripping the lapels of his jacket tightly and Taehyung stared down at her with a pained expression. “If they get to you…I—I don’t know what—”

“Shh,” he cupped her cheeks. “Just trust me, okay?”

“I do trust you, Tae. But you know these people. They’ll stop at nothing.”

“I don’t care. I want you out of there.” He stared down at her fiercely. “I’m getting you out of there. I promise.”

Ji Eun could only stare at him—her only hope—through tear-filled eyes. Taehyung leaned in and kissed her forehead.

“I love you,” she suddenly murmured and Taehyung’s heart skipped a beat. It’s been so long since he had heard those words. They sounded different and yet they felt the same.

“I love you too, Ji Eun. I never stopped.” Taehyung pulled her close then, arms wrapped around her form protectively. He looked ahead fiercely, already thinking of an escape plan.  

It would be hard; not to mention life-threatening, but he didn’t care. There was nothing in this world that would stop him from saving Ji Eun.

He’d make sure of that.

Jungkook woke to a pounding on his door.

His senses kicked in an instant and he immediately got out of bed, grabbing the gun from his desk drawer. He was glad that his girlfriend was away on a trip or it would have been problematic.

Who would be knocking at 3 in the morning? he thought as the pounding continued. He made his way to the door slowly and upon reaching the wooden barrier, he looked cautiously into the peephole.

His worry dissipated and was replaced by confusion as he opened the door to find familiar eyes staring at him.

“Tae?”

“I need your help,” his friend said and knowing Taehyung, Jungkook was sure they were about to do something completely reckless (and would probably get them both in trouble at the agency).

He agreed, of course.

1 Week Later

Ilsan Warehouse

1:48 A.M.

Ji Eun woke up to the sound of yelling.

She had fallen asleep on the desk at one of their warehouses when she was assigned to a new operations; guarding a set of weapons for trade. She wasn’t exactly doing anything, but her father had wanted to keep her close as there were rumors going around of another group infiltrating the city. After what happened to Arthur Black, Wang wasn’t taking his chances.

Upon the thought of Black, Ji Eun remembered Taehyung and how they met a few nights ago with the promise of escaping. It has been days since they had any form of contact and she was starting to wonder if it was just a dream. Half of her wished it was because of the danger it meant for him, but the other half yearned for him to take her away from this place… yearned to be with him outside dingy warehouses and stone cold headquarters.

Bang! Bang!

Ji Eun snapped up at the sound of gunshots, face morphing into panic. She cursed before lifting herself off the chair she was sitting on and grabbing the gun on the desk. She was poised to fight; shotgun held up at arm’s length just as the door was opened, revealing a man wearing all-black.

He had a face mask on and unfamiliar dark eyes stared back at her. With a grunt, she raised her gun to shoot.

“Wait!” the man held his hands up in surrender and Ji Eun was slightly confused. “I’m not the bad guy here.”

Ji Eun scoffed, pointing the gun higher when the man tried to step forward. “Whoa easy—”

“Who are you?”

“Not important,” he said quickly. “But I came with Taehyung.”

At the mention of the name, Ji Eun’s guard wavered, the grip on her gun loosening. 

He came for me? she thought, heart fluttering in her chest. He kept his promise…

“Please put the gun down so we can get out of here.”

Ji Eun looked back at the man again, before her stare and grip on the gun hardened once again. If there was one thing she learned from where she came from, it was that you couldn’t just trust anybody.

“How do I know you’re not lying?”

The man visibly huffed and remove his mask, revealing an amiable face. He reached into his coat and grabbed something black and rectangular…

He raised it towards her.

“Agent AF7, at your service.”

“Where’s Taehyung?”

“He said he had to take care of something. He’d meet us outside on the next street,” agent AF7 said. He still wouldn’t give his real name which annoyed Ji Eun a bit, but she guessed it was for the best. Names had power after all, and there was a reason they used code names.

The two of them reached the back alley unnoticed which surprised Ji Eun. They passed by a handful of men lying unconscious on the ground on the way out of the warehouse and she wondered if that was the agent’s doing. They didn’t seem dead though, with no blood in sight; and Ji Eun thought she caught one still breathing.

Agent AF7 lifted a piece of black cloth from something, revealing a gray Audi. Ji Eun wavered when he opened the door, motioning for her to get in.

Bang!

Their heads snapped towards the alley’s opening in alarm and in a second, agent AF7 had crossed to the other side of the vehicle and pulled Ji Eun behind him; his other arm raised with a gun pointing towards the alley’s entryway as he shielded her from the intruder.

Ji Eun looked over the agent’s shoulder in panic, thinking perhaps they have been caught. Her hope was slowly dwindling when a man came into view, falling to the ground in a heap. Before Ji Eun could make up who it was, another figure emerged from where the former came and this time, it showed a familiar face.

Hope flared in her chest then.

“Taehyung,” she sighed in relief before side stepping agent AF7 and running towards him. Taehyung shook his wrist with a wince before jogging towards her. He met her halfway, his arms going around her in a fierce grip.

“Are you okay?” He asked and she nodded against his shoulder. “Good.”

When they let go, Ji Eun’s eyes widened at the huge gash on the side of his head, blood dripping on the side of his face. “Tae—” she reached out to inspect the bruise, fussing over him. Taehyung shook his head and gently pried her hands away.

“I’m fine,” he said before reaching out to smooth the wrinkles between her eyebrows. “Stop worrying.”

She bit her lower lip, still not assured. “I…I thought…”

“That I wouldn’t come?” Taehyung grinned before holding her hand and lifting it up to his lips for a kiss. “I promised, didn’t I?”

He did, Ji Eun thought, warmth spreading against her chest. Looking into each other’s eyes, it was almost hypnotic, their heads leaning closer and closer…

A slight cough interrupted, causing the two to jump slightly from surprise. Agent AF7 stood by the driver’s side door, shooting them an expectant look.

“Sorry to break this up but we really have to go before the bomb goes off.”

Ji Eun’s eyes widened at his words and remembered how the agent told her about Taehyung ‘taking care of something’…

She looked at Taehyung then, “You planted it?”

Taehyung nodded, “Yeah, and we’re all going to be roasted alive if we don’t leave now.”

Ji Eun barely had the time to conjure a reply before she was being pulled into the backseat of the car. They got themselves strapped in just as agent AF7 stepped on the gas, tires screeching across the pavement.

Upon a measurable distance, there was an ear-splitting explosion, and Ji Eun’s heart raced at the sight of rising flames through the rearview mirror.

ISAIA Headquarters

3:30 A.M.

“I’m really too old for this. I’m not some kind of principal, I hope you know that.” Suho grumbled as he surveyed the three people standing before him: a couple of his agents dawned in their gear and slightly bruised, with a girl standing between them, looking a little out of place.

“We had to get her,” Taehyung reasoned to which Suho grunted. The latter turned towards Jungkook then with a questioning gaze.

“Back up.” Jungkook shrugged and Suho resisted the urge to roll his eyes to the very backs of his sockets. He wasn’t sure what he was going to do with them.

“Um… look mister,” the girl suddenly spoke, earning three pairs of eyes to look at her. “Don’t be so hard on them. If it was anyone’s fault, it was mine.”

“Ji Eun…” Taehyung started but she ignored him.

“I asked them to help me escape. Taehyung and I…” she paused, looking at the boy to her left with a small smile. “We’ve known each other from way back.”

Suho held up his hand. “I already know of your backgrounds. All of you. And I understand where you are coming from,” he glanced up at the two agents. “But you still defied a rule. You’re not supposed to go on missions without consent.”

Silence filled the room, the two agent’s heads hung low at their superiors reproach.

“So does that mean we’re suspended?” Jungkook piped and Suho sighed heavily. It’s not like there was anything he could do other than that.

“Yes. You two will be on recruit training for a month. No missions—unless the world is ending and there’s no choice but to put you two on duty.” The two boys’ shoulders visibly sagged but took the punishment without complaint.

“As for you, miss.” Suho turned his eyes on Ji Eun. “What are your plans?”

“Plans?”

“Taehyung already told me before you came in that you wanted a new life.” Ji Eun looked at Taehyung then, who nodded at her. “We can give you that. You need a new place? New name? We can make you disappear as if you were never there…”

Ji Eun’s heart soared at the opportunity to start anew. She could change her name, go to school, live like a normal girl…

She glanced at Taehyung again, who was in turn looking at her with a small smile and an encouraging gaze. Right then, she saw her answer.

“I want to train. I want to be an agent,” she said to which Taehyung sputtered, eyes going wide as dinner plates. He had always known Ji Eun wanted a normal life. He never thought she would choose to do such a thing. Being an agent was far from normal—and even more dangerous than being the daughter of the leader of a mob empire.

Jungkook smirked, looking mildly impressed as he watched the situation unfold.

“As you wish.” Suho said and they were dismissed just like that.

“Ji Eun, wait.” Taehyung caught her elbow the moment they left Suho’s office; his eyes questioning.

“See you guys soon, I guess.” Jungkook casually strolled by them, smiling slightly at Ji Eun. She discovered his name when Taehyung told her the moment they reached the agency headquarters. “I’ll see you in class, Wang.”

“You can’t be serious about her being recruited,” Taehyung said.

“Why not?” Jungkook shrugged and Ji Eun smiled slightly. “She can hold a gun, and I bet her father didn’t leave her untrained in combat either. She’ll fit right in.” Jungkook smirked when he saw the look of apprehension on Taehyung’s face. “Why Tae? You afraid she’ll rank higher than you.”

Ji Eun snorted when Taehyung rolled his eyes. 

“That’s not the point—” he protested.

“Look, you guys talk it out. I have to go. Y/N’s coming home today and I have to fetch her at the airport.”

“Who’s Y/N?” Ji Eun asked.

“His girlfriend.” Taehyung mumbled flatly.

“See you later,” Jungkook saluted them both before turning to leave.

“Jungkook!” Ji Eun called at the last minute before he went down the stairs. The boy looked at him over his shoulder with a questioning gaze.

“Thank you. For helping Tae… and me.” She said and Jungkook glanced at Taehyung briefly before giving her a small smile.

“No problem,” he said. “He did the same for me.”

As Jungkook left, Ji Eun turned to Taehyung and sighed. “Tae, look—”

“Why do you want to train? This isn’t exactly why I helped you escape.” Taehyung grumbled. “I thought you wanted to go to school? Live a normal life…?”

“Yeah, and I also want to be with you.” Ji Eun blurted, rendering Taehyung speechless. “I want it more than anything, Tae. And by being here, I get to do just that.”

Taehyung bit his lip to keep from smiling; trying to hide the fact how her words made him incredibly happy.

“We agents don’t exactly date. Our job’s too dangerous to get attached. We’re not allowed to.” He crossed his arms, looking at her teasingly.

“Jungkook dates.”

Taehyung opened his mouth to speak but came up with nothing. “That’s different. Y/N isn’t an agent.”

Ji Eun raised an eyebrow challengingly, stepping forward until there was no space between them.

“Is it in the rule book?”

“Pretty much,” Taehyung lied.

Ji Eun nodded, crossing her arms and humming thoughtfully before looking up at him slyly.

“I see… a man once taught me to sneak out, you know. Sure you can’t bend the rules for a bit?”

Taehyung’s smile was already showing and he stepped closer until her crossed arms were touching his chest. He leaned down and tipped her chin up with a finger. “Oh? And who would that man be?”

“You.”

“He sounds smart.”

Ji Eun chuckled and wrapped her arms around his neck while Taehyung’s moved to snake around her waist. “Please Tae, I want to do this. I want to train here… with you.”

Taehyung sighed, knowing he had already lost. He caressed the side of her face and chuckled lowly. “You always did bring out the worse in me.”

Ji Eun smiled as he finally leaned in for a lingering kiss and thought how they definitely brought the bad in each other…

In a good way.

END

Thank you for reading! I hope you guys enjoyed it! Let me know what you think!

And another special treat… here’s another teaser for my upcoming published book this August.

- Kaye Allen

[raziakhatunblr]

Maplestory private server

 Is it safe? Let us understand the background and distinctive contents of private servers.

 Maplestory private host

It helps MapleStory fans better enjoy the hard work involved with constructing successful MapleStory servers. However, what about punishment?

 Personal Servers are somewhat illegal because they breach the TOS or Copyright claims or something. If Nexon has captured a private host, they'll send a notification to you or sue you enjoy they did to and which no longer exist.

 The reason behind most personal servers is either from people who talk about the leaked info. The manufacturer of OdinMS created his personal host, or they're rebels such as The Resistance vs. The Blend in Half-Life 2.

 But, there's absolutely no possible way for Nexon to prevent all private servers. They are continuing to be advanced from moving v55, v63, v72, and so on.

 How Is a Private Server like Maplestory Made?

After all the years of unsuccessful leveling, upgrading, and recruitment of guild members, together with a destroyed Ghost Boat Exorcist badge onto a three-year-old Mechanic, I chose to retire into a MapleStory Private Server.

 Additionally, $600CAD to find nx and buy stuff (for example, meso sacs and store permits) to get items across and find things out in M.S. the challenging way. Yes, I sacrificed $600CAD in substantial school lunch money to get things like hair coupons in M.S. once I might have used that money to receive a supercomputer.

 Nexon is observing everything

The ruined GSE badge within my 3-year-old 210 mechanics. (through celebrity improvement window) and Nexon's shortage of gear reimbursement finally led me to do the one thing nobody would ever encourage me to do: I gave up on GMS. With no GSE badge, I can not continue on GMS.

Furthermore, I wasted a lot of real cash to sell items to acquire more Mesos. Instead, I've more insults than Mesos from players. Such as"Shoo."

 [caption id="attachment_1282" align="aligncenter" width="1920"] Maplestory Private waiter [/caption]

My big problem here is how do you create a MapleStory Private Server (whether it is a v83 or the most recent version)? Like, do they divide into Nexon's H.Q. and extract all of the sprites, maps, sound effects, etc., off their computers and then rebuild it like a jigsaw puzzle?

 If they did, then I will need to pack my bags and fly to California to do this. Like, the M.S. files will need to come from someplace. Also, it's the sole way to acquire the Wizet Invincible Hat. Besides, you'll find guidelines on other Personal Server sites.

 Mesos

That says things like"no hacking, injecting of tools/unauthorized equips/packets, no wz document editing, etc.". I feel like I deserve a holiday from this game, but don't wanna devote another 1-2-3 years recollecting all the Mesos and equipping myself.

 I would like to compensate for the 3 years of the wasted moment on M.S. and get my movie/animation jobs finished at precisely the same moment.

 In addition to the hat, the G.M. class itself is making me envious. Yes, they're a class referred to as"SuperGM." So with a Personal Server (a Private Server intended for my personal use ), I will see exactly what it is like to be a G.M.

And bypass all other personal server site rules. Plus, there's a skill known as"Super Dragon Roar" that really does %1000 damage to all animals on screen.

 While we are on this subject of hacking, why are robots poor? I never uttered before, but as a fantastic player from GMS, I find the only fair use for them would be to let me farm Mesos while doing home chores. I could call in my friend to play M.S. while I create breakfast/lunch/dinner, do laundry, etc. Why are robots taboo to MMORPG moderators like MapleStory private servers? That and having my friend drama M.S. for me personally will make no difference (at least that's what I presume ).

 A side question: why or how are Personal Servers bad? Besides the fact that they permit one to play the sport and get stuff free, I really don't see how Private Servers are poor. Additionally, when you produce a Personal Server, do you, as the admin, get a Wizet Invincible Hat?

 Also, how do I protect my P.S. from Nexon so they don't locate it? ExtaliaMS got closed down when Nexon found their I.P. address. But I want to take additional precautions to avoid going to court to face Nexon.)

 So for this, I will have to place my MMD project on hold for now. I have to wait until the introduction of MS2 so that I can port its models to MMD.

 (this is where Time is Money. Much like E.G., construction of a condo in a boom-town; the employees need to build it quickly to allow more residents to proceed.)

 Additionally, you're only allowed to perform a daily event once a character. That's like more kids than Octomom should feed.

 And that I consumed almost an entire day to do daily quests on all of them because of how many negative aspects in the match slowed me down since the days passed! When it's terrible hackers, DCs (that is an online game term for"disconnections") (no matter whether I have a great or poor internet connection). Unscheduled server maintenances, or other things along those lines!

 Can not you compare with a v83 Personal Server right into a quit game console like the Gamecube or even the PlayStation 1?

How can we play an old game from several decades back without a machine that's capable of doing this? So yeah, how can we try the previous skills and senior classes of the elderly servers if we can't even play with the older servers of Tonight Now? Please refer to this link for additional info about discontinued games and game consoles: A significant Note about Emulators for Game Developers.

 Also, can't you compare with an MMORPG Private Server into a Jailbreak (like IAP Cracker and Installous) for iPod Touches/iPhones/iPads? For games such as Tiny Tower, Subway Surfers, Candy Crush, and so Forth, even with no Jailbreak/with the official server. I am able to go the distance and find those games completed 100 percent without having to spend a single cent.

 The programmer (s) that created these match (s) plans to place them up to download free of cost. But I can't waste any more time on these types of server-sided matches because I have other important things to do.

 Besides internet service, how does a Private Server need funds to operate? Since most P.S. sites say in their community guidelines. "If possible, please contribute as Personal Servers need funds to operate...

 How to Create a MapleStory Private Server [v83]

First, go to C:\

 As soon as you find three folders, call all you want, but I will name them'ZenthosDev,'''Downloads,' and'MapleStoryV83' with this tutorial.

  Download these programs/files.

 (64bit)

MySQL Query Browser

 JCE Unlimited Power Records

WampServer

LocalHost v83

ZenthosDev v83

MapleStory v83

W.Z. Files

Make certain you selected the appropriate variant matching your Operating System (O.S.) to avoid any difficulties.

 Installations:

Before we start, make sure to extract everything if it's in a .rar format.

 Installing MapleStory v83:

 Install MapleStory with the download provided. It is a really straight forward installation. Follow the instructions.

 Delete the following files/folders in the C:/MapleStoryV83 folder should they exist.

 MapleStory.exe

Patcher.exe

GameLauncher.exe

shield (folder)

Installing WampServer:

Follow the directions and install it.

 C:\Wamp

 Don't be concerned about putting your email and these at the end. Just press finish.

 Left-click it and click put Online'.

 Then left-click it again and click on begin All Services.'

 The Wamp icon must look totally green (if it is red or reddish, you have a problem).

 Installing the MySQL Query Browser:

It is straightforward, runs the installation record, agrees to the conditions, and follow the instructions.

 According to which system kind your computer as you may install 32bit or 64bit.

So set up the corresponding file.

For another simple installation, follow the directions.

Documents placement:

Paste them into these areas, overwrite when prompted.

(The (jdk1)/(jre7) folder version could differ. It is fine ). C:\Program Files\Java\jdk1.7.0_01\jre\lib

3. C:\Program Files\Java\jdk1.7.0_01\jre\lib\safety

Copy each of the folders and files within the ZenthosDev folder that we made before. So it seems in this way.

 Now replicate the W.Z. folder within the ZenthosDev folder.

 So it must look like this.

 SQL setup:

Username: root

 Then click on the document' button in the menu bar, and select open Directory...'.

 Proceed to C:\enthosDev\SQL and open the document called'ZenthosDev.SQL.'

 Following its opening, apply the file.

 Preference installation:

(This component is optional if running the server to Receive your computer only)

 You might also make any alterations to have the server to function how you need it.

 Wait 10 minutes, and then your bat file must look similar to this.

 Code:

 ZenthosDev has started:

 World Launched

 Login Launched

 Channel Launched

 Is Maplestory’s personal server really safe?

I ask this question as somebody who has been part of the Maplestory personal server" community."

(unsure whether the neighborhood is the best term to describe it, but oh well) to get many of years now. I would not call myself a"host hopper" per se, but I have tried out a decent variety of servers to see what they provide. Most servers market towards Maplers, who prefer the old-school/pre-BB encounter.

 The sole thing that differentiates them will be the attributes they supply. Some have higher or lower EXP/Meso/Drop prices to make things more or harder. Some make H.P. Washing"Optional." Some provide custom content...you get the notion.

 Anyway, this question popped into my mind when I tried out a host known as"AvalonMS." I recall having a few conversations using a streamer there. He was currently looking for a server to repay. This man had hoped that Avalon would perform well. Eventually, he left because he could not see the server becoming successful and remaining alive for more than a few months.

 I really don't remember his precise words. However, I believe he said something along the lines of"Private Servers need to be run with at least a small bit of professionalism, like a business nearly."

Along with the proprietors of this host, since he put it, were not too professional. Among the substantial issues was that they weren't transparent enough with the area concerning what sort of content/updates they'd do with their game. I tried looking around for their host just a minute before. And they appeared to have vanished off the face of the internet. No big surprise there.

 A personal server such as Maplestory has been around. So what is the issue?

I got me wondering how many private servers have been around for a while to stay successful. When I say successful, I usually indicate they could maintain a decently-sized busy player base for an extended period. That, if you consider it, is already hard enough as it is. In any kind, Maplestory, whether it be the official game or the personal servers, isn't a super popular MMO.

 The official sport is nowhere near as popular as it was during its prime. And therefore, you would think the subset of all gamers/Maplers that prefer old-school private servers inside the official game is most likely a pretty little demographic.

 We've got SOME powerful servers such as Royals, Legends, Saga, etc., which have existed for a couple of decades. And these"powerful" servers hold a reasonably large percentage of personal server gamers.

 I mean hell, even as soon as you go past the 6th or even 7th rated server on gtop100, you begin getting into the servers that have less than 100 active players. And needless to say, the personal server community is most likely dwindling.

 There are just so many men and women who have played pre-BB Maple.

And they would prefer it on the modern versions. Finally, those folks will likely proceed with their own lives and stop playing with Maplestory entirely because nostalgia can maintain a player round for such a long time. I must wonder how many more years we have before Maplestory Private Servers die off completely. I hope we have a little bit more.

[bangkokjacknews]

How I was tricked into killing Kim Jong Un's brother

Young mother fooled into smearing Kim Jong Un's brother with deadly nerve agent in 'prank' that she thought would make her a YouTube star is tracked down to remote village

They were words Siti Aisyah had long dreamed of hearing, spoken by the filmmaker who had plucked this naive farmer's daughter from obscurity in order to make her a star. 'If today goes well you will be known all around the world,' he told her. 'You can become a famous actress.' In some ways the filmmaker was right: Siti did indeed become world famous – but not for the reasons she expected. Instead her name is now synonymous with one of the world's most audacious murders, the assassination of North Korean tyrant Kim Jong Un's playboy brother Kim Jong Nam. He died in agony in February 2017 after being smeared with the deadly nerve agent VX at Kuala Lumpur international airport. He had been killed in broad daylight – by two young women who maintain they believed they were taking part in nothing more than a simple prank for the video sharing site YouTube. Despite their protestations of innocence, Siti and her fellow 'actress', Duong Thi Huong, faced the very real prospect of the death penalty and spent more than two years in prison – much of it in solitary confinement – before they were dramatically released earlier this year when the murder charges against them were unexpectedly dropped. Ever since, Siti has determinedly kept a low profile, returning to her remote home village in rural Indonesia to try to pick up the pieces of her life. Only now, tracked down by The Mail on Sunday, has she decided to tell her extraordinary story in full for the first time. In turns remorseful, angry and bewildered, Siti describes how it feels to have been so ruthlessly exploited by killers who did not care if she too would live or die. Indeed, it is only by fluke that she didn't succumb to the deadly poison herself. 'I had no idea what I had done,' Siti says, fighting back tears. 'They told me they were going to make me a star. I feel so foolish for believing them so easily. I didn't know who Kim Jong Un was before all of this. I didn't even know where North Korea was. I feel bad about what happened to Kim Jong Nam and I wish I had never been involved. If I could turn back time, I would never have agreed to do any of it. 'When I got out of prison I looked up my name on the internet and finally realised what it had all been about. I thought, 'How can I have been caught up in such a big murder case involving these important people?' I am just a girl from a small village. I just believed I was playing pranks. That's all I ever thought.'

He had been killed in broad daylight (CCTV footage shows the moment of the attack) – by two young women who maintain they believed they were taking part in nothing more than a simple prank for the video sharing site YouTube Certainly few could deny that Siti makes the most unlikely of assassins. Tiny and looking much younger than her 27 years, it is hard to believe she is the mother of a ten-year-old boy, Rio, who was just seven when she was imprisoned. Her story reads like something out of a far-fetched paperback thriller: a beautiful young woman is recruited by secret agents to fulfill a deadly and clandestine mission. Her excuse – that she didn't know anything about the murder plot – is even more outlandish. Yet meeting her in the modest home she shares with her devout Muslim parents in an impoverished village goes some way to explaining that. Their simple one-storey house is down a dirt track flanked with coconut and mangrove trees and the living room wall is decorated with treasured family photographs and verses from the Koran.

The victim complains to to officials at Kuala Lumpur international airport moments after he was smeared with the nerve agent Siti's interest and knowledge of the wider world is sketchy at best: she couldn't tell you, for example, who Donald Trump is. The youngest of three children, she left school at 12 and, by 17, was married with a son. 'I was only happy for the first three months. I soon found out my husband liked gambling and women and never supported me financially,' she says. The marriage broke down and she left her son in the care of her parents-in-law to become one of thousands lured into making a living in the sex industry in the Malaysian capital Kuala Lumpur. By 2017 she was working as a masseuse in the city's Flamingo hotel, and picking up night-time clients at the sleazy Beach Club Cafe where, in the small hours of a January morning, she had an encounter with a taxi driver which would change the course of her life for ever. 'He told me he had a Japanese client who was looking for someone to act in a reality TV show and he said I had just the right look,' she recalls. Flattered, Siti went to a meeting in an upmarket shopping mall the next day where she met 'James', who told her he was a Japanese TV producer making Candid Camera-style shows for YouTube. In fact, James – real name Ri Ji U – was a 30-year-old North Korean agent. Unable to speak Indonesian, he communicated via Google Translate. Siti's first 'job' was straightforward enough, if a little odd – and at £80, the pay was lucrative: she merely had to approach three men at random in the local mall and smear baby oil on them before apologising and walking away while James filmed it on his iPhone. 'Afterwards he told me I had done a good job and there would be more work like this for me,' she recalls.

Kim Jong Nam (pictured) died in agony in February 2017 after being smeared with the deadly nerve agent VX at Kuala Lumpur international airport 'I was nervous about doing the pranks at first in case someone reacted badly or hit out but I was very happy to have the work. I questioned why anyone would want to watch this sort of thing but they told me Japanese audiences loved it and the videos were being edited in Singapore for a big TV show. 'I had earned 400 ringgits (£80) for 15 minutes' work. In the hotel where I worked as a masseuse I only earned 20 ringgits (£4) for each customer.' In the following weeks, Siti was summoned by James to carry out similar pranks in other malls and at Kuala Lumpur airport. The drill was always the same: James would put lotion on Siti's hands before she approached her bemused victims from behind and wiped her hands on their face. Then, after a quick apology, she would make a swift exit and pocket a payment – now increased to £100 – for each successfully completed 'prank'. Never once, she says, did she question the nature of her new work – which she now knows was, in reality, training for just one single murderous mission. 'James told me he would take me to America,' she recalls. 'I even gave him my passport so he could arrange visas for me. I was very excited. I thought this was going to change my life and I would be able to leave my old life behind.' Siti admits she was developing feelings for James – and that may well have made it easier for her to dispel any lingering misgivings. 'I liked him because he was handsome, but he was shy around women,' she says. Their friendship did not last: within weeks Siti was flown to Cambodia and linked with another 'producer' called Mr Chang – in reality another Korean handler by the name of Hong Song Hac. Mr Chang spoke fluent Bahasa, Siti's mother tongue, but she says: 'I didn't like him. When he got serious, I was a little bit afraid of him.' The work was the same however, and Siti continued to film pranks for money in both Phnom Penh and Kuala Lumpur. Behind the scenes, the North Koreans were desperately trying to track Kim Jong Nam – who was constantly on the move – in order to carry out their deadly plan. The only credible rival to his brother, they had long fallen out and for years he had been a dead man walking as the regime suspected he was passing secrets to the US. As the North Koreans closed in on their target, they tracked him as he returned to Malaysia where, police sources confirmed to The Mail on Sunday, he met a CIA agent and exchanged a laptop full of data for a wad of $100 bills. Two days before the assassination Siti, now back in Kuala Lumpur, recalls being given a $200 bonus by Mr Chang. 'When I asked what the money was for, he said it was because I worked very well in Phnom Penh and his boss was very happy with me.' She was told her next job could propel her to international stardom. 'I didn't think I was going to be famous,' she insists. 'I liked the money.' It's clear that she was flattered, though, and was convinced enough to tell her friends at a 25th birthday party at Jakarta's Hard Rock cafe the following night. In what proved to be an eerily prescient clip, captured on her mobile phone, one of Siti's friends boasts that 'Siti is going to be a celebrity.' Little could they imagine the reason why. The following day Siti arrived at a Kuala Lumpur airport coffee shop to meet 'Mr Chang' for a briefing on her latest prank. He told her this one would be slightly different: not only did he have a particular target in mind but Siti would carry it out with another 'actress' who at the last moment would approach him from another direction. As with every previous prank, the 'filmmaker' then took out a small container, the size of a hotel shampoo bottle and poured liquid on to Siti's hands, pointed out her target in the busy airport departure lounge, and sent her off in his direction. 'Mr Chang told me the man was a big boss in his company,' she says. 'He said he was very arrogant and might get angry so I should carry out the prank and then get away as quickly as I could.' It's one reason Siti admits she was unusually nervous as she walked towards the man she now knows was Kim Jong Nam. She recalls being just two steps away from him when her accomplice Huong suddenly cut across her path from a different direction and placed her hands over his eyes. 'He looked annoyed and upset,' Siti says. 'I thought, 'He looks like a rich man and he is clearly angry and he might report us to the police.' Initially, intelligence officials thought that each woman may have been carrying different chemical components which, though harmless on their own, would create a deadly compound when mixed together. In fact, both women were carrying the lethal VX poison on their hands and were very nearly killed themselves in the process. Siti and Huong fled in different directions after the attack and both went straight to different washrooms to clean the sticky liquid off their hands – an act that would almost certainly save their lives. Just yards away Kim Jong Nam was writhing in agony on the concourse floor, his vital organs shutting down one by one. It would later emerge that Kim Jong Nam was carrying an antidote to VX in his backpack but in the grip of blinding pain had not thought to use it. After approaching airport officials he was taken to a clinic and died in an ambulance on the way to hospital.

Siti Aisyah (pictured), smiled as she was seen leaving Shah Alam High Court in Malaysia in March after prosecutors unexpectedly dropped the murder charge against her Oblivious to the unfolding horror, Siti would then spend three hours ambling around the airport's shopping mall, buying clothes and having lunch before returning to the city's Flamingo hotel where she worked as a masseuse between filming assignments. So unaware was Siti of the international drama that when, two nights later, police arrived to arrest her, she initially thought it was another YouTube prank. They said, 'Where were you on the 13th? Were you at the airport?' I said yes, I was shooting a video. They asked why I didn't ask for permission and said, 'Come with us to the police station.' I thought it was just a random police check on foreign workers. 'Then at the police station they told me I had been involved in the murder of a president's brother. I just laughed and said 'You must be joking' and asked them to give me my passport and my phone and let me go home. But they got angry with me and put me in handcuffs.' Siti was taken to hospital, where traces of VX were found on the top she was wearing at the airport. It was a fortnight before she was allowed to see a lawyer ahead of her first court appearance where she was charged with murder – a crime which in Malaysia carries a mandatory death penalty. 'I was absolutely terrified when I realised I might be executed,' Siti says, her eyes once more filling with tears. 'I was so confused. How could I be in this situation? I cried every day for three months. I couldn't eat and I couldn't drink. I thought I'd never see my son again. With a forthcoming trial hanging over her, Siti spent the first year of her imprisonment in solitary confinement, her only company aside from legal and embassy visits the prison guards who watched her room and mercilessly taunted her. 'They asked me if I wanted to commit suicide because it was such a big case that I was involved in. Another time one of them told me that if I didn't plead guilty, North Korea would bomb my home country, Indonesia,' she says. Her only contact with her parents meanwhile was a weekly 15-minute phone call. 'The first time I called them I just cried,' she says. 'Even now my parents have never asked me about the case. They've seen it on the TV news, so they know what it was about, but they don't want to think about what I've been through.' After several months of agonising delays, Siti's trial was set to begin in March. Then in another dramatic development the murder case was dropped. No reason was given, with Malaysian prime minister Mahathir Mohamad insisting there had been no negotiations but that the decision had merely been in line with 'the rule of law'. Her charge was reduced to 'administering a poison', a crime for which she had already served the necessary jail time. Siti's lawyer Gooi Soon Seg told The Mail on Sunday that the real killers must be brought to justice. 'It was a brilliant plot when you think about it. The plan was for Kim Jong Nam to walk straight on to his flight and die on the plane. It would have been classified as a heart attack and everything would have gone unnoticed. 'They brought VX into the country – that is tantamount to a declaration of war,' he says. 'The people who planned this murder should absolutely be brought to justice.' It's perhaps a final irony that her own role in this political killing helped Siti to achieve the celebrity she craved: treated like a VIP upon her release, she was flown home by private jet and taken straight to see the Indonesian president. For two months she was guarded in a safe house until the security risk was reduced. There are more tears when Siti recalls how, during her absence, her son Rio had grown so tall that at their emotional reunion she could no longer scoop him up into her arms as she used to. 'We had been apart for more than two years. I told him I was so sorry, and I hadn't been able to contact him while I was in prison. He didn't answer. He just smiled and hugged me tightly.' She adds: 'I have to accept that I was gullible. I am angry and upset with James and Mr Chang because I told them so many personal things and confided in them – then they put me in this terrible situation where they didn't care if I lived or died.' Today, six months on, she is studying to become a beautician and claims to want to put her notoriety behind her. 'I want a better future' she insists. 'I want to have more children and maybe someday I will marry again if I find a good man.' Nonetheless, she still seems strangely seduced by the fame that found her in the deadliest of circumstances. 'Who would imagine that someone like me, who only went to primary school, could become world famous?' – You can follow BangkokJack on Instagram, Twitter & Reddit. Or join the free mailing list (top right) Please help us continue to bring the REAL NEWS - PayPal Read the full article

[paul-doyle]

Program Foundation Geno And CD Laid At UConn In 1985 Is Holding Up Just Fine

By Paul Doyle/The Hartford Courant

April 9, 2016

The practices began with the basics. Passing and shooting, layup drills, running from one end of the court to the other.

There was individual and team work on defense and offense, the voices of a 31-year-old Geno Auriemma and his assistant Chris Dailey, just eight years out of high school, filling a tiny gym.

It was 1985 and Geno and CD were laying the foundation for their program. The UConn Huskies were coming off a losing season and the new coaches were attempting to overhaul the culture in Storrs.

What's a practice like in 2016? Cut and paste the above. Add more individual work before and after practice. Transport the session into a multimillion-dollar practice facility adorned with championship banners.

Otherwise, not much has changed.

"You're not reinventing the wheel," Dailey recently said. "The demands of practice are the same. The demands that we put on them physically and, really, the mental challenges of getting it right, that's remained the same."

And they have gotten it right — Auriemma is in the Basketball Hall of Fame in Springfield, he has won more titles than any Division I coach in history, the 11th coming Tuesday night in an 82-51 victory over Syracuse. Dailey made the Huskies of Honor wall this season, a surprise from Auriemma in March on Senior Day.

In three decades, Auriemma and Dailey have always sent a consistent message, one that works in 2016 as well as it did 30 years ago.

"Then and now, we're never accepting of lack of effort," Dailey said. "You want to know the constant in this program? Lack of effort is not acceptable."

Adapt And Thrive

Auriemma was six years into his tenure when UConn took a step onto the national stage. With nearly 8,000 at Lakefront Arena in New Orleans, UConn fell to Virginia in a national semifinal game in 1991.

It was the first hint of what was ahead. But even the brash young coach could not have conceived what has transpired in the past quarter century.

"It never, ever crossed my mind that what has happened since then was even remotely possible," Auriemma said. "That would have been like you telling me back then, 'You know what, in 2016 you're going to have a phone in your hand and it's going to make you drive into other cars because you're going to be on it all the time.'

"I would have said you're out of your mind, right? That's how improbable it would have been to tell me we would be where we are."

About those phones that seemed so implausible in 1991? For the most successful generation of UConn players, smartphones and social media are a way of life.

The kids who have won four titles in a row and 75 consecutive games have grown up on social media.

"It's a totally different world," Sue Bird said.

Different from when Bird was at UConn 15 years ago. Go back to when UConn won its first title in 1995 and compare how much the world has changed for college kids.

"That's two decades of culture, of 18-years-olds, of fashion, of music, of different styles of basketball," Diana Taurasi said. "If you look back on it, the teams and the programs that struggle can't evolve. They're stuck in some era that they can't get past. Coach and CD, they've evolved into whatever needed to be at that time."

Taurasi was standing in the gym after USA Basketball practice in February as she scanned the floor for ex-Huskies. She rattled off names: Jennifer Rizzotti, Bird and herself, Maya Moore, and Breanna Stewart.

They spanned 20 years and were each part of title teams.

"That's four completely different generations of technology, of pretty much everything in life," Taurasi said. "And [Auriemma's] been able to take what he learned through all those years and make it better."

Taurasi jokes that Auriemma has learned to embrace his smartphone and now communicates best with his ex-players via text. In fact, the divide in technology between the college-age players and the 62-year-old coach isn't as wide as one might think.

Are his players glued to their iPhones? He gets it.

"Look, there's nobody who's on his phone more than Geno Auriemma," Dailey said. "Checking, reading information. He's on overload most of the time. It's not mindless. It could be CNN, it could be world news, it could be sports news or whatever. … But he uses the technology. I think we've all evolved. We've had to."

To Dailey, the need for texting and Snapchatting and tweeting and retweeting is not necessarily a problem. Kids love to stay connected to one another.

But the selfie generation does pose its unique challenges.

"We're in a world now where everything is about me, me, me, me, me," Dailey said. "Kids are all about them. Their parents are all about them. Their texting is all about them. They retweet things about themselves. That boggles my mind. Who does that? Why don't you let other people say nice things about you. You don't have to retweet it. It's already been out there. … It's not even their own fault. It's the world they live in."

So how does UConn weed out the me-first players? Auriemma said that when he brings recruits into Gampel Pavilion, he makes note of how they view the title banners.

"The world's changed so much," Auriemma said. "Kids come in. They're not impressed with stuff anymore."

He recently brought a recruit into the building and pointed at the banners.

"See all this?" Auriemma said. "She said yeah. I said, you're probably not that impressed. You can probably get this anywhere. And I just left it at that."

Said Dailey, "For us, it's trying to get them from the 'me, me, me, me' over there, which is part of their world, to over here, which is 'we, we, we, we,' which is about us. It sometimes takes some kids longer than others. It's definitely a transition."

Family Time

What is the defining characteristic of the UConn women's basketball program under Auriemma?

"Commitment, passion, attention to detail, family, work ethic, competitiveness," Moore said.

From Bird: "It's like a demand for consistency and for excellence. The bar is really high and he expects you to hit it every time. There are no excuses."

From 1985 through 2016, the standards have been the same. Auriemma can be demanding in practice. He'll prod players with his unique brand of humor.

"Sarcastic," said Carla Berube, a captain in the 1990s.

But the practices, while demanding, are consistent. Bird will drop into Storrs and work out with the team during the season. She is astonished by how things are the same, from the drills to the terminology.

She's not alone.

"I feel like I can go put practice gear on and I can go through every drill, I can go through practice with my eyes closed," Taurasi said. "And you know what? There are certain things that work."

On the court, it's about effort. Every day, whether it's at practice or in a game.

Off the court, it's about blending into a team concept. But Dailey said Auriemma's coaching staffs have always had the ability to adapt to the personality of the players, pushing buttons based on what each individual needs.

"I am nothing if not consistent," Dailey said. "We as a staff are consistent in terms of our demands. We're consistent in that we set the bar high. Who doesn't want the bar to be set high?"

So what does the 1985 version of Geno Auriemma have in common with the Geno Auriemma of 2016, a grandfather who has 955 wins and only 134 losses? They're both smart, curious, ambitious, demand excellence — and always witty.

He joked during the NCAA Tournament that he couldn't recite anything on John Wooden's pyramid of success, but he believes his pyramid of success is the same as the man he passed for most titles in Division I history.

"His was [Lew] Alcindor, [Bill] Walton and Gail Goodrich, and you name them down the line," Auriemma said. "Mine is Diana [Taurasi], Maya [Moore], Stewie. That's my pyramid of success. And I think that's every great coach's pyramid of success."

Yet perhaps most important: Geno, at his core, was and is a people person.

"Geno hasn't changed," said longtime friend Doug Bruno, the DePaul coach and Auriemma's assistant with the USA National team. "He's always been the same guy. He's always been a great person. That's maybe what people don't understand, how good he is to people. They see his quick-witted shtick, which is all a function of great intelligence. But what they don't understand is that more than anything, he cares about people."

Bruno has known Auriemma since the mid-1980s and he respects Auriemma's deep knowledge of the game. But there are lots of coaches who have mastered the X's and O's. What separates Auriemma — what has always separated Auriemma, Bruno said — is his ability to deal with various personalities..

"He knows how to extract and administer tough love and get these guys to be the best they can be, and getting them to understand what they need to do, and to like it," Bruno said. "He did that when he started and he's still doing that. That's the genius of Geno. It's all about his people skills. Doesn't matter what generation you're in. The people skills are the same."

That might explain why there were more than 30 former players celebrating UConn's 11th national title Tuesday night in Indianapolis. The former players were on the court, posing for pictures together and mingling with current players.

"They're not being pulled back by the alumni director," Bruno said. "They want to be back. There's a culture there of wanting to be here."

After three decades, there are no surprises. Recruits know what to expect. They've seen Auriemma on ESPN and know his humor, his personality, his expectations. They've heard the stories.

"I definitely remember a lot of yelling, a lot of chirping and molding in his style," Moore said. "Tina [Charles], myself, we were probably the two that got yelled at the most. … He's always looking to get his players better and teach the game in a way that he hopes will stick with them."

Moore and Charles, of course, were the two best players on the team.

No matter the era it does not change.

"He does a lot of different things from benching you to giving you the silent treatment … to pushing you in practice," Stewart said. "But he has a lot of different ways to push buttons, and we're all different people, but he still knows how to light a fire under someone."

Said Dailey: "We've been here with so many generations that you have to adapt. Not the entire generation, per se, but who's on your team. How do they learn? How can you challenge them? What is their boredom level? How do they respond to certain things."

The great ones respond by getting even better.

"Part of his ability to win here and his ability to be so consistent is the personality that he has in terms of demanding the best, every single game, every single practice, every single possession," Bird said. "When you're with him for seven, eight months, that stuff really starts to click and you really take on his identity. Which is, perfection.”

[lovemycart]

Sell AVON Online Only in 2019 with your smart phone. Start Avon for $25. Start a beauty/personal shopping business as an Avon Rep and sell Avon online only. 

I recorded this video from my iphone. You can do the same with your Avon business. It’s not only fun but you’ll earn extra money at the same time. You’ll become a beauty expert and the go-to for your friends and family. Not to mention, everything you see in the video, I earned on my commission. 

As a brown skin gal, I’ve always had problems finding products that would heal my scarring, control my oily skin, and give me some anti-aging properties. I had no idea that all of this time Avon had everything I needed. And I wasn’t going to go out of my budget using it. That was the best part.

Sell Avon online in 2019 as an e-Representative and you can start making money by selling Avon from your phone or iPad in 2019.

WHAT YOU NEED TO SIGN UP AS AN AVON REP (2019 UPDATE)

You will need a debit, credit, or money card with a Visa/MC logo & $25 for the 1st level Avon Starter Kit. 

Bookmark this page so that you can save it when you’re ready to start. From an iphone, go to the bottom of your phone and click this button. Select  ADD TO HOME SCREEN  so that you can come back to this page and sign up when you’re ready. 

Selling Avon in 2019 means a fresh start. An opportunity to do something for you that only you can control. A chance to get your skin in healthy condition, play around with makeup looks that make you feel good, and just feel more beautiful. 

It is the perfect New Year’s resolution in your life. Starting an Avon business in 2019 also means that you are making the decision to save money on skincare and makeup. Are you active on social media? Do you like trying new makeup trends, eye shadows, lipsticks, or contour palettes? So many bloggers review products on their blogs and hope that their blogs get seen and make some extra money. When you actually have a business to promote and a personalized boutique to shop from, you will earn money from Youtube views. 

Have you ever wanted to make money blogging?

This is the perfect way to start! Why not introduce a product line that you can actually earn from promoting? There’s no other beauty business that is well known around the world. USA Avon Reps are only a fraction of our entire Avon company. Avon has teams of Reps in Puerto Rico, Germany, Japan, Columbia, Mexico, Uted Kingdom, and beyond. 

In order to get started, you will have to have a debit/credit card to register your business fee of $25. Once you’ve sealed your business registration, Avon will send you an account number for you to use to log in to your Avon account at www.youravon.com. 

Have you signed up yet? Join Team Gorgeous Avon Reps.

GO TO STARTAVON.COM

ENTER REFERENCE CODE NICOLEMAE

COMPLETE YOUR AVON REGISTRATION & CHECK YOUR EMAIL ADDRESS IMMEDIATELY

FILL OUT YOUR UNIQUE ESTORE NAME AND WELCOME TO TEAM GORGEOUS AVON REPS!

Make Avon part of your 2019 resolution and come back here when you’re finished. I’ll help you get set up!

CONGRATULATIONS, YOU ARE NOW THE OWNER OF YOUR OWN BEAUTY BUSINESS

Once you’re logged into your Avon back office at youravon.com, you’ll immediately see all of the benefits to being an Avon Rep. I recommend doing this for the first time on a laptop or PC. But if you can’t, everything can be seen from an iPhone or iPad as well. 

After logging into your Avon back office, what’s next? 

Congratulations! You’re now an Avon Representative with your own beauty business. You can run your business any way you choose and there are so many ways to do so! You’ll be asked to start setting up your account and creating a username so friends can view your estore. I suggest keeping it short and sweet but also unique so that the name is available. Many Avon reps use their first name with another word. If your name is one that has multiple spellings, I would probably go with another name. Also, using numbers in your URL name doesn’t flow as well as having words only. 

At this moment, the way you want to run your business takes the lead.

WAYS TO SELL AVON ONLINE IN 2019

BECOME A PERSONAL SHOPPER

DISTRIBUTE AVON BROCHURES

GIVE OUT AVON SAMPLES

START A BLOG

START A YOUTUBE CHANNEL 

SHARE YOUR ESTORE LINK

CREATE FUNDRAISERS

GROW YOUR EMAIL DATABASE

THROW HOME PARTIES

ADVERTISE ON FACEBOOK

ADVERTISE ON INSTAGRAM

BECOME A CERTIFIED ANEW SKIN CARE EXPERT

LET AVON PAY FOR YOUR COLLEGE EDUCATION

LET AVON TEACH YOU HOW TO SELL MAKEUP THROUGH AVON UNIVERSITY

BECOME A MAKEUP ARTIST

DO MOMMY MAKEOVERS

SELL IN COSMETOLOGY SCHOOL

RECRUIT YOUR FAMILY & FRIENDS

JUST USE YOUR AVON DISCOUNTS ONLY

USE CLASSIFIEDS

GET FREE AVON BUSINESS CARDS

SELL TO TEACHERS AT SCHOOL

START A GIFT BUSINESS

BECOME AN AVON MODEL 

Make the choice to sell Avon online and take full advantage of all of the benefits of an Avon Brand Ambassador. These include health insurance for you and your family, generous discounts and offers, and the ability to choose how you want to sell Avon online without any pushy management members. These are a few more  ways Avon Representatives sell Avon online successfully. 

Direct Delivery Avon Representative – you can order for your clients and drop their deliveries off at their homes/work or they can come pick it up from you. 

Sell products from your own inventory to clients, friends, and family. 

Promote your website and connect with customers to sell Avon ONLINE ONLY. 

Recruit other Avon Representatives and build an Avon team. 

Use your Avon Representative status solely for personal purchases.  (this is how I started out) 

BECOME AN AVON INFLUENCER IN 2019

AVON Representatives in 2019 use social media to show off their personalities and how they’re working their business. If you’re on Instagram, follow the hashtag #gorgeousavonreps. These ladies are also selling Avon online in a fashionable, trendy way. 

The next generation of Avon is much different today than what many remember. We’re socially conscious, tech savvy, and hard working ladies who are young enough to love a sexy lipstick and eye shadow pallet and old enough to be college students and parents.  Become an Avon Rep by joining the Gorgeous Avon Reps team! I’d love to hear and publish your story! Gorgeous Avon Reps

HOW TO START SELLING AVON ONLINE IN 2019 WITH YOUR ESTORE

GO TO STARTAVON.COM & USE REFERENCE CODE NICOLE MAE 

PAY $25 FOR YOUR LIFETIME AVON WEBSITE FOR AS LONG AS YOU ARE AN AVON REPRESENTATIVE

RECEIVE YOUR STARTUP KIT IN THE MAIL WITHIN 3-5 DAYS

FOLLOW THE EMAIL INSTRUCTIONS TO SET UP THE NEW NAME FOR YOUR AVON WEBSITE (YOU WILL NEED YOUR AVON ACCOUNT NUMBER FROM YOUR EMAIL)

START PROMOTING YOUR WEBSITE TO YOUR FRIENDS AND FAMILY!

REGISTER YOUR AVON BUSINESS FOR FREE ON GOOGLE BUSINESS.

CREATE A FACEBOOK PAGE FOR YOUR AVON BUSINESS

LITTLE KNOWN FACT ABOUT AVON BROCHURES 

When you place orders as an Avon Representative, there are specialty brochures that come with your orders….free brochures. Imagine you had a fashion and beauty store in your local mall or busiest strip center. What if customers came into your store and you had no fashions, no product and the store was empty? Yikes. Not a good feeling to see a line of customers and nothing to sell them. Think of your Avon brochures this way. As the owner of that fashion shop, if you could, would you hand out a catalog of your store items? Of course you would!

The advantage you have with Avon is that everyone already knows about us! Now I’ve given up the best kept secrets of selling Avon successfully. use your free brochures and the main ones, customize your phone or iPad to get organized about your business, set goals, and then start reaching them one by one!

AVON SECRETS REVEALED FOR  2019

So now you’ve read about the tips to start Avon for free in 2018, and it’s time to decide of this is something you can actually make money doing. I need to share a little secret with you though…you’ll have to be focused on not spending your Avon income on yourself. 

DON’T BE TEMPTED TO SPEND YOUR EARNINGS in 2019

With the amount of discounted product and samples available to you, it’s encouraged that you try Avon products so that you can recommend to your customers what works best for you. In doing so, don’t be tempted to blow all of your earnings and max out your Avon credit. 

THE BEST TIME TO BUY IS FROM AVON WHAT’S NEW 

The Avon What’s New brochure has demo products that not only show you what’s coming up but they’re stacked with other perks as well. I’ll only say this…buying demos makes you more money in commission. 

AVON BENEFITS ARE SO STACKED, YOU WON’T BELIEVE YOU’RE IN BUSINESS FOR YOURSELF 

From wireless discounts, to contractor health insurance, tuition reimbursement, free beauty certifications, easy promotions & a forever sisterhood…there’s more to gain than you’d know becoming an Avon rep. 

SELLING AVON IS ABOUT TO CHANGE IN 2019…BIG TIME 

Avon realized that selling techniques are moving more and more to social media. By just allowing others to get to know you and opening your cameras and videos to the world, it is just as personal as walking up to someone and saying hello. The people who will be doing the best in Avon sales for 2018 will be the ones who know how to let down their guard and practice the art of no selling sales. 

BROCHURES ARE HARD TO GIVE OUT IF YOU DON’T COME UP WITH A PLAN

Not everyone is a “never meet a stranger” personality type. For those people, I can’t stress enough how important for your Avon business that you have a plan. It could be as simple as leaving one out at every drive-thru or business you walk into. Just remember that the goal is to get emails and phone numbers from other. Ask for their number so that you can send them a coupon code for first orders. Always try to get customer information for followups!

AVON QUALITY MAKEUP AND SKINCARE IS BETTER THAN MOST PEOPLE KNOW 

 My skin has been an awful mess for a long time. I’ve tried multiple products to reduce the scarring, even skin bleaching. I started using Avon Skinvincible and my Mom started Avon Ultimate. We’re both hooked and our pockets don’t feel a thing. My products are always almost free when I buy them with big orders. And I purchase my Mom’s for 50% discounts. We’re talking less than $20 a month for skincare….top of the line skincare. 

JOIN GORGEOUS AVON REPS AND SELL AVON ONLINE BEFORE 2019 HITS. START THE NEW YEAR OFF WITH YOUR VERY OWN BEAUTY BUSINESS. 

AVON CAMPAIGN 3 2019 – START SELLING AVON 2019

GO TO STARTAVON.COM

USE REF CODE NICOLEMAE

(OR LOOK FOR MY PHOTO AFTER CLICKING GET STARTED)

You can request to receive the trial kit by texting GORGEOUS TO 444999.

LOW ON CASH? START SELLING AVON FOR FREE USING ONE OF THESE 7 WAYS.

SELL AVON ONLINE IN CAMPAIGN 3 2019 Sell AVON Online Only in 2019 with your smart phone. Start Avon for $25. Start a beauty/personal shopping business as an Avon Rep and sell Avon online only. 

[newssplashy]

Opinion: The iGen Shift: Colleges must change to reach the next generation

They are, of course, superconnected. But on their terms. Which is why college-bound iGens (Gen Zers, if you prefer) present a challenge to the grown-ups on campus eager to reach and teach them.

Consider orientation season. Katie Sermersheim, dean of students at Purdue University, has a mother lode of information and resources to share (including wellness initiatives and a new mindfulness room). But getting iGen’s attention?

“It can be frustrating slash extra challenging to figure out how to get the word out, whatever that word is,” Sermersheim said. “I do get discouraged.”

A generation that rarely reads books or emails, breathes through social media, feels isolated and stressed but is crazy driven and wants to solve the world’s problems (not just volunteer) is now on campus. Born from 1995 to 2012, its members are the most ethnically diverse generation in history, said Jean Twenge, psychology professor at San Diego State University.

They began arriving at colleges a few years ago, and they are exerting their presence. They are driving shifts, subtle and not, in how colleges serve, guide and educate them, sending presidents and deans to Instagram and Twitter.

They are forcing course makeovers, spurring increased investments in mental health — from more counselors and wellness messages to campaigns drawing students to nature (hug a tree, take a break to look at insects) — and pushing academics to be more hands-on and job-relevant.

They are a frugal but ambitious lot, less excited by climbing walls and en suite kitchens than by career development.

Most critically, they expect to be treated as individuals. Students raised amid the tailored analytics of online retailers or college recruiters presume that anything put in front of them is customized for them, said Thomas Golden of Capture Higher Ed, a Lexington, Kentucky, data firm. He sees group designations evolving into “segments of one.”

Students want to navigate campus life, getting food or help, when it is convenient for them. And, yes, on their mobile devices or phones. “It’s not really technology to them,” said Cory Tressler, associate director of learning programs at Ohio State University, noting that the iPhone came out when most were in grade school.

It is why Ohio State this year, rather than battle device use, issued iPads to 11,000 incoming students. The school designated 42 fall courses “iPad required” (21 more will be added in the spring) and is building an app that in addition to maps and bus routes has a course planner, grades, schedules and a Get Involved feature displaying student organizations.

In the works is more customization, so when students open the app it knows which campus they are enrolled at, their major and which student groups they belong to.

Speaking to students on their terms just makes sense, said Nicole Kraft, a journalism professor at Ohio State who takes attendance via Twitter (she has separate hashtags for each of her three courses). She posts assignments on Slack, an app used in many workplaces. And she holds office hours at 10 p.m. via the video conference site Zoom, “because that is when they have questions.”

Kraft does not use email for class, except to teach students how to write a “proper” one. “That is a skill they need to have,” she said.

While these students are called “digital natives,” they still must be taught how to use devices and apps for academic purposes, Kraft said. She’s had students not know that they could use Microsoft Word on an iPad. “We make a lot of assumptions about what they know how to do.”

Campuses have been slow to recognize that this age group is not millennials, version 2.0.

“IGen has a different flavor,” said Twenge of San Diego State University and author of “iGen: Why Today’s Super-Connected Kids Are Growing Up Less Rebellious, More Tolerant, Less Happy — and Completely Unprepared for Adulthood — and What That Means for the Rest of Us.”

It is tricky to define a large part of the population. But Twenge said big data sets revealed broad psychological patterns shared by those coming of age amid defining social, cultural and economic events.

The difference between growing up in the prosperous 1990s versus seeing family members lose jobs and homes during the 2008 recession alters one’s perspective, she said. It is why iGens are so focused on debt and insist they get skills and experiences that will lead to a career.

The prevalence of school shootings and domestic terrorism has also shaped them.

“This generation defies the stereotypes of young adults,” in terms of risk-taking, Twenge said. They are “more receptive to messages around safety” and less eager to get driver’s licenses, and they come to college “with much less experience with sex and alcohol.”

They are also more cautious when it comes to academics, fear failure and have learning preferences distinct from millennials, said Corey Seemiller, professor at Wright State University and co-author of “Generation Z Goes to College,” who queried 1,200 students on 50 campuses.

“They do not like to learn in groups,” favor videos over static content and like to think about information, then be walked through it to be certain they have it right.

“They want a model” and then to practice, said Seemiller, who posts samples when assigning a paper. “I’ll say, ‘Let’s look through them and see what works.'” Having grown up with public successes and failures online, she said, students are hungry to have a big impact, yet “worry they will not live up to that expectation.”

And despite their digital obsession, Seemiller’s research shows this generation favors visual, face-to-face communication over texting. They are not always good at live social interaction, but they crave it. “They want authenticity and transparency,” she said. “They like the idea of human beings being behind things.”

As a generation that “has been sold a lot of stuff,” said Seemiller, iGens are shrewd consumers of the tone and quality of communication. That’s pushing colleges to focus not only on what they say but also how they say it.

Which is what orientation leaders and staffers in Princeton’s office of the dean of undergraduate students — known on social media as ODUS — have tried to master in the way they welcome the Class of 2022.

A brainstorming session in March generated what became a Princetified cover of Taylor Swift’s “22,” a video with orientation leaders and ODUS staff members as extras, a cappella groups singing the score and Nicolas Chae, a sophomore, directing.

Cody Babineaux, an incoming freshman from Lafayette, Louisiana, whose video of his acceptance to Princeton has 4.6 million Twitter views, appreciated it, especially the Harvard shirt sniffed and tossed out in the first 20 seconds. “It was hilarious,” he said. “It didn’t try too hard.”

Getting student attention and keeping it matters to administrators trying to build excitement for campus events but also in prodding students about housing contracts and honor codes. “We are an office that enforces university standards. We can’t be firing off,” said Thomas Dunne, deputy dean of undergraduate students. “But you have to be animated and human-sounding. Our voice is very personal.”

ODUS has become an active presence on Facebook, Instagram, YouTube and Twitter with a vibe that winks, pokes, weaves in memes and slang terms like BAE (before anyone else) and on fleek (flawlessly styled), and applies hashtags with wit (a free ice cream for dropping by the ODUS office with dance moves worthy of Dean Dunne? #GetServed, #GameOfCones).

Dunne, whose Facebook page began as a student prank without his knowledge more than a decade ago, leans on staff members who include 20-somethings. One, Ian Deas, who favors Snapchat, identifies student “influencers,” following them on Facebook and Instagram.

In posts, he looks for “those trendy phrases that help us stay in the conversation.” When ODUS staff members respond to student posts, it amplifies their reach. “When we are being interactive, our stuff pops up in other people’s feeds” and drives curiosity about “who is behind the voice.”

Being social on social media attracts students who might tune out official communication. Babineaux said he and his friends noted when college posts sounded “goofy” or “like your grandfather trying to say swag.”

He also notices that his generation is criticized “because we are always on our phones,” which gets interpreted as being disconnected. In fact, he said, “we just have more connection with everyone all the time.”

It is also how students like Babineaux learn and get information.

“Social media has helped me get a lot more prepared for Princeton,” he said, adding that he has scrolled through old posts of campus (“I have never seen snow”) and watched videos, including of graduation. “I thought, ‘That will be on my Instagram page in four years.'”

——From Nature to Instagram

By Laura Pappano

Innovative ways that some colleges and universities are engaging their iGen students.

GET DOWN WITH NATURE

At Wellesley College, Suzanne Langridge, director of the new Paulson Ecology of Place Initiative, invited students to look at insects and to adopt trees. Students need technology, but Langridge wants them to “connect more deeply to each other and to a sense of place.”

PHOTOS OR IT DIDN’T HAPPEN

So what if the college president hauls boxes on the day freshmen move in? Without images, it’s a rumor. Which is why John Swallow, president of Carthage College in Kenosha, Wisconsin, will be dressed to help come Sept. 2. He’ll want pictures for his Instagram. He joined the site in September and runs it himself (with advice from his daughter). #picsoryoudontexist

MENTAL WELLNESS

Last fall, Ohio State University opened the Stress Management & Resiliency Training Lab. During 40-minute sessions, students learn mindfulness and deep-breathing techniques to lower anxiety while hooked up to a biofeedback monitor so “they can see in real time how their body reacts to reducing stress,” said Damon Drew, a graduate associate who helps run the lab.

TEACHING IGENS

Daniel Guberman of Purdue’s Center for Instructional Excellence has worked with colleagues to help professors revamp 400 courses to be more engaging, include video and choice for students to show what they know. College is no longer “about identifying the best students,” he said, but presuming “all of these students are here because they are capable of succeeding.”

TOOLS, NOT AMENITIES

The country club era is over as students are “more acutely aware of who is paying for that,” said Raymond Maggi, an architect who has built more than 20 student life projects on college campuses over the past decade. That means shared, fluid and public spaces for tutoring and meeting. Libraries need cafes, he said, and academic departments need lounges with “comfortable seats and cafe tables” with writable surfaces.

Laura Pappano © 2018 The New York Times

source http://www.newssplashy.com/2018/08/opinion-igen-shift-colleges-must-change_4.html

[democratsunited-blog]

‘They Come After Me Because I’m Effective’ – RollingStone.com

https://uniteddemocrats.net/?p=5548

‘They Come After Me Because I’m Effective’ – RollingStone.com

As the countdown to November commences, with Democrats desperate for a moonshot, Nancy Pelosi sits atop a three-stage rocket, full of possibility and danger. If all goes according plan, the first stage, fueled by America’s revulsion to Trump, will lift Democrats to control of the House. The second stage, powered by a robust Democratic majority, returns Pelosi to her perch as Speaker of the House. The final stage – perhaps the most combustible – sees her unifying a fractious Democratic caucus to check President Trump and deliver on sky-high voter expectations.

Executing this launch sequence would tax the powers of any politician. Pelosi’s task is made more difficult by the ideological divides roiling her own party, and by a GOP that has made her the face of its attacks on Democratic candidates. Pelosi is unique among current congressional leaders in being weaponized against her team – she’s been featured in more than 16,000 attack ad airings through May. “We haven’t seen the Republican leaders singled out in this sort of way,” says Erika Franklin Fowler, a director of the Wesleyan Media Project, which tracks political ads.

Pelosi is one of the most powerful women in global politics. She gets credit for securing passage of much of the legislation in the Obama legacy, including the Recovery Act, Wall Street reform and especially the Affordable Care Act. “Nancy Pelosi has been one of the most transformational figures in the modern Democratic Party,” says Democratic National Committee chair Tom Perez. Pelosi also spearheaded the takeover of the House a dozen years ago in 2006 – an achievement that has become fodder for her critics. “Leader Pelosi has talked about how we need to do what we did in 2006,” says Rep. Seth Moulton, an ambitious Massachusetts Democrat who argues for a “new generation” of House leadership. “I mean, we barely had iPhones in 2006 – it was a different world.”

But for all the talk about Nancy Pelosi, less time has been spent actually listening to her. Rolling Stone sat down with Pelosi for an hour on a May evening in Des Moines, Iowa, where she was raising money for the local Democratic Party. At the fundraiser, standing before a wall-sized American flag, Pelosi sought to flatten the difference between President Trump and GOP candidates. “He’s their guy,” she says of Trump. “Make no mistake: This election, it’s not – well it’s about him in certain respects, we can’t ignore that – but it’s about them.”

Both the fundraiser and the interview took place before Trump began separating families at the border, which Pelosi describes as “an utter atrocity that debases America’s values.” This conversation informed the profile of Pelosi in the latest print edition of Rolling Stone. What follows is an edited transcript.

I want to dig in on 2018 and understand how you’re thinking about the election and how the angles break. When Hillary didn’t win, people said, “Can you win the House?” And I said, “I’ll tell you in a year.” Because it matters where the president is a year out. If he’s under 50 [percent approval rating], we can win it. Just to put in a little historical perspective. In ‘05 and ‘06, [former Democratic Senate leader] Harry Reid and I said, “We’re going to win the Congress.” People said, “No way. It’s going to be a permanent Republican majority.” Bush had just won. In January of ‘05, he was at 58 percent in the polls. The war in Iraq; people in the streets; he’s at 58 percent in the polls. We would have to bring his numbers down. And he gave us a gift: He was going to privatize Social Security. [That] helped take his numbers down, into like the 40s. What other difference did we want to emphasize? It was “Drain the swamp.” That was ours. [Trump] stole it from us. “End the culture of cronyism, incompetence and corruption.” That was our thing. They were getting indicted, subpoenaed all over the place. And then Hurricane Katrina: Cronyism and incompetence. Thirty-eight percent in September.

With Trump, he’s done the heavy lifting for you? We can’t take credit for taking his numbers down, but for taking advantage of the opportunity it presented. To keep [his numbers] down we had to make sure people understood what Republicans were trying to do with the Affordable Care Act, what they were doing in terms of inequality and the disparity of income. Anyway, he was at 38 to 40 percent a year before the [2018] election. So, they get the retirements. I think it’s 46 today. And we get the A-Team on the field. We would like to say we recruited [our candidates]. Trump recruited them for us. [Laughs.] We’re in a very good place now.

Trump dominates the media. Do Democrats risk getting drowned out? I don’t like the fact that everything is concentrated on porn stars and this or that. It’s hard to break in and say, “Wait a minute. He’s terrible, but his policies are worse. He is terrible, but who cares? His policy means something in your lives.” I think people should care that he’s terrible. But evangelicals, they seem to think it’s OK as long as they get a Supreme Court justice [to rule] on a woman’s right to choose and LGBTQ marriage equality.

What’s the Democratic message? We’ve had for a year, working with the Senate, our agenda: Better Deal. Better jobs. Better pay. Better future. It took eight months or so to put it together, to come to agreement. The members shaped this. It wasn’t something where I said, “This is what I think it should be. Now sell it.” It was: “What do you think it should be?” It’s very important that it spring from the members.

And when people say, “Well, it doesn’t inspire me”… It inspires me. Because it’s about the economy. No matter the other stuff we disagree on, the financial stability of America’s working families is the unifying force in our caucus. That’s why these people are Democrats, not Republicans.

What’s your thinking on impeachment? I think it’s a gift to the Republicans.

Expand on that. Because people really want to know how we will improve their lives. We don’t really know what Mueller has. We have a responsibility, if we have information, to act upon it. But we don’t know what Mueller has. Republicans in the House have completely blocked any investigations – to a stupid extent, in my view.

But when I was elected speaker, people wanted me to impeach Bush. In the streets [chanting]: “Impeach Bush!” I thought the war in Iraq was sinful. I was Adam Schiff [the ranking member on the Intelligence Committee] at that time, going into the war. So I knew everything that they had. And they didn’t have anything that said Iraq was developing nuclear weapons. They didn’t have weapons of mass destruction! It would be like me saying there’s 20 puppies on this table. It wasn’t there! Nobody could show it to you. It was a complete lie. But nonetheless he got re-elected.

Going into the [‘06] election, I said it’s off the table. I didn’t mean it’s off the table if you had some goods. If somebody has information, then we can act upon it. But from what we know now, it’s off the table.

Just to make sure I understand: You were saying that impeachment was “off the table” in relation to Bush? Or with Trump? Even with Trump. If you got something, show it. But I’m not going after it. What we’re going after is the economic security of America’s working families.

Liberal billionaire Tom Steyer is spending millions on a pro-impeachment campaign. Trump is out on the stump warning impeachment is the Democratic agenda. It’s going to be an issue in the campaign – This election cannot be about impeachment. I don’t think it’s in the interest of America’s working families to focus on that, unless we have more to go on, which we don’t at this time. You get the power of subpoena, you don’t know where it takes you. I wouldn’t not impeach the president for political reasons. But I wouldn’t impeach him for political reasons, either. That’s just not what it’s supposed to be about. I think it’s not unifying for the country.

So that’s my message to Steyer. He’s my friend, former neighbor – I just completely don’t agree. I wish he would spend the money pointing out the horror show that the tax bill is. [Read Steyer’s response to Pelosi here.]

So if the election is not about regime change here at home, what is your vision for checks and balances? Would a lot of the next two years be about boxing Trump in? It’s about who has the leverage. Like, we killed them on the Omnibus bill. You know why? Because we are united, and they are not. They need our votes; that gives us leverage. They wanted to put all this money into defense. And we said, “We have to have the same amount of money domestically – parity in the increase.” They just don’t believe in domestic investment. Even though the domestic agenda is one-third security. They didn’t want to do it. But then they had to [because House Republicans couldn’t agree on a budget that could also clear the Senate]. And when we got that money, we were able to do much more for opioids, the National Institutes of Health and all these other investments. So unhappy were the Republicans, 90 of them voted against the bill. Just to show how well we did.

If we have the majority, it’s a different negotiation with the president of the United States. He’ll know we’re in a different place.

He’ll know that he has to play ball? He’ll know that we have the leverage. The gavel. [Picks up a knife, bangs its base on the table.] The gavel makes all the difference in the world … I didn’t mean to pick up the knife. [Laughter.] The awesome power. The speaker has awesome power.  

You had a bad experience with DACA. It started well enough – with headlines touting Trump’s negotiations with “Chuck and Nancy.” But it went sideways quickly. Did that experience color your faith in the president as an honest broker? We presented DACA… Chuck [Schumer] and I presented to him, saying, “We look forward to working with you. One value we hope we share is to protect the Dreamers.” [Pelosi puffs herself up, impersonating Trump] “Yeah, Yeah, Yeah. Protect the Dreamers.” And then we just have to work out the commensurate border security. We have a responsibility to protect our borders; what is commensurate for this number of people to be protected?  

It goes to the speaker [Paul Ryan]. The speaker says, “I put together a task force on our side that’s going to say what we can live with – it’ll be ready in a week.” It’s a week. Then two weeks, three weeks, a month, two months, three months – nothing. The speaker says, “I couldn’t make anything come of it.” And the president, I said to him: “Are you in charge!?” I don’t know if the president ever was sincere about it. But if he were, we could have made it happen.

Senate Minority Leader Chuck Schumer (D-NY), House Minority Leader Nancy Pelosi (D-CA) and Sen. Sheldon Whitehouse (D-RI)

Realistically, what are Democrats going to be able to do with Trump as president? When we talk about leverage, it’s not just leverage within a bill. It’s leverage within the context of a legislative agenda: You want this? We want that.

A big infrastructure bill is something that we think we can achieve. Because it has so much popular appeal. And we’ve always done it in a bipartisan way. This partisanship on infrastructure only started when Obama was putting something forward. Of course, then they didn’t want anything he did. We can’t not do what we’ve asked the speaker to do now, to bring up a gun safety bill. Because it will save lives from day one. [A bill to protect the] Dreamers – it’s not asking them to go out on a limb. Nothing that we’ve been asking doesn’t have overwhelming public support. It’s just that they don’t believe in governance. They don’t believe in science, facts, data, evidence, truth. They don’t believe in any of that. If you don’t want to govern, it’s important not to know anything, so you don’t have to act upon it.

We’ve seen consecutive Republican speakers flame out, essentially, because they couldn’t deal with the insurgency on their right flank. What is your secret to keeping Democrats united? I’m really good at what I do. I’m a legislative virtuoso. I really love legislating. It takes knowledge, and experience, institutional memory. I was forged in the Intelligence Committee and especially the Appropriations Committee. I know how you can reach agreement.

Let’s turn to the elections – the mechanics. You have something like 104 districts that are more favorable than the Conor Lamb district Democrats won in Pennsylvania. That’s probably too big a playing field to be serious about funding races all across it. How do you narrow it down? Civilization as we know it today is at risk in this election. We have to win. We have to win. So you can’t spread your money too thinly, because you can run the risk…

If the election were today – no question we would win. But you have to be aware of the undercurrents. Because you don’t know what can come along – and what comes along eclipses what you’re doing.

People say, “Is it a wave? Is it a tsunami?” Well, it’s a lot of droplets that make up a wave or a tsunami. But they are all close – these races are all close. So it’s not like a presidential [election] where someone might get momentum and get a great big vote. I don’t want people to think that there’s a wave coming so that they don’t have to work very hard in every single district. Because you could have a wave that earns you 20 seats big and you miss 30 seats small [leaving the GOP in control of the House].

So, say we have 104 [competitive races], and say we want to go down to 70 [that the party contests fully]. It’s a motivation to you, if you are one of our candidates, to work your heart out. Because if you’re not doing so well, we’ve got others to draw on. You see? Everybody in the 70 has to really perform, or else they know we’ll go someplace else.

It’s not about them. As I say to people, “It’s not about you, deciding that you don’t like to work on Sunday.” It’s about the one in five children in America who live in poverty – one in five who go to sleep hungry at night; one in four in some states. That’s what it’s about. It’s about fairness, it’s about our country, it’s about our values.

And besides which, we don’t even have to win 70. I’d like to win half of that – 35. We only need 23. I’d take it today in a second, the 23. But we want more than that.

You’ve been weighing in on primaries in a way that’s gotten some people’s noses out of joint. [Pelosi shrugs.]

The concern is that party leaders are substituting their judgment for the will of the voters. How do you respond to that? The fact is we just want to win based on our values. We haven’t, frankly, weighed in that much. The chairman made a decision to weigh in in Texas, and people got all upset because the Bernie people got upset. In the beautiful tent that is the Democratic Party, we have a lot of people, and the districts that we have to win are pretty moderate-to-conservative districts. In a primary, which is a multi-candidate field, it is likely the most liberal candidate will win – who doesn’t have the faintest chance of winning the general election. Now everyone’s had a chance to show their stuff. Nobody did this from day one. I’d rather take the heat from somebody saying, “Oh, they thwarted the enthusiasm,” than take the heat of people saying, “Why didn’t you weigh in, and now you’ve lost.”

Republicans have made you a central campaign issue. What do you make of that? They come after me because I’m effective. I’ve made some very powerful, rich enemies. Whether anti-government people in terms of the Affordable Care Act, whether it’s Wall Street reform, going after them on climate, in terms of the fossil fuel industry. I’m pro-labor; they want to destroy labor. So they put up the money and go into these districts. I don’t think we should allow the Koch Brothers to choose the leaders of the Democratic Party. But that’s what they’re trying to do.

You don’t see any value in spending money to bring your own poll numbers up? I never have. People that I raise money from – other people – say, “Let me create a fund; you should be spending money on yourself.” And I say, “I’d rather spend the money on the candidates who win rather than getting into a tickle contest with a skunk over some of this stuff.” I just want to win the election.

Your critics say you’re too liberal– I’m LGBTQ, I support those issues. I’m proud to. But they use that – they go into these districts and they say, “Too liberal.”

San Francisco values– Which are the values of Saint Francis – “Make me a channel for thy peace.” You have a problem with that? I’m proud of all of that. I don’t think the [Democratic candidates] who say, “I’m not going to vote for Nancy” are disassociating themselves from the progressive agenda, or LGBTQ equality. They’re just responding to an ad in their district.

House Minority Leader Nancy Pelosi in the 2018 San Francisco Pride Parade on June 24th, 2018.

And that’s OK with you? I just want them to win the election. But I do think that there are some districts where this isn’t as important as it was in Conor Lamb’s – that was a 20, 21 point Trump district.

Looking at the poll numbers, it looks like what those ads do is animate the Trumpiest of the Trump folks. But I think they said in Conor Lamb’s district it was down to single-digit, the people who cared. The first issue was Medicare was at 43 percent, and then it went down to the teens for campaign finance, which was a big issue in the district. And then to single digits for other things. The public knows what is important. And most people want to know what you have to offer. So I think it shows the bankruptcy – they really don’t have any ideas. Their tax bill is failing them because it’s a fraud to begin with – and people understand that it’s a scam. And we’ll keep that pressure on them.

But I don’t think for a second that we should allow Republicans to choose the leaders of the Democratic party because they put money in with their – what’s the word I want to use? Making a caricature of somebody. I mean discriminatory. They discriminate against LGBT. That’s just who they are. It’s a funny thing about them: They do not share our values. You might find one or two or something.

And then John Boehner leaves and joins the board of a marijuana firm. Transactional. Transactional.

Let’s look ahead to the speaker contest that would follow the election. What do you make of the Tim Ryans or Seth Moultons who’ve called for a new generation of leadership– Inconsequential. They don’t have a following in our caucus. None.

Is it frustrated ambition on their part? I don’t know. I think there are lots of people who have worked very hard, and are more in line for what will happen one of these times. But they’re not to be considered [among] who those people would be. I mean, there are people who work very hard to win the elections, who have been in legislative battles. People who paid their dues. Not to put anybody down. Anybody is consequential. But I have great support in my caucus. I’m not worried about that. And I’m certainly not worried about them.

Have you ever been tempted to step away? If Hillary had won and the Affordable Care Act was protected – I feel very proprietary about the Affordable Care Act. She’d be a woman in charge, the Affordable Care Act [would be] protected. I could have happily gone home. Nobody in California gets Potomac Fever, believe me. So it’s not about wanting to be there. It’s just a question of, “Who can fight this man who’s in the White House? Who really knows the territory?” None of us is indispensable, but some of us have more experience and confidence in how to get the job done.

And I can’t even think that they [her prospective male challengers] think it’s a good idea to say, “We have the first woman speaker, and now we’re going to say, ‘We’re not going to do that’” I mean, no. No.

Is there a margin you need to secure that gavel? You talked about wanting to win 35 seats.

No ,no. You only have to win [the leadership vote] in your caucus – and then you go to the floor [for the speakership vote]. People vote for the Democrat or they vote for the Republican. So I feel very comfortable about that. But I don’t feel like talking about it. My time is money, and mobilization and the rest. Part of it is messaging – and talking about me and what happens to me is the least important part of all of it.

I think some of it is a little bit on the sexist side – although I wouldn’t normally say that. Except it’s like, really? Has anyone asked whatshisname, the one who’s the head of Senate?

[Aide Jorge Aguilar who is sitting beside Pelosi] McConnell.

McConnell. I mean he’s got the lowest numbers of anybody in the world. Have you ever gone up to him and said, “How much longer do you think you’ll stay in this job?” Nobody ever went up to Harry Reid and said that. Nobody ever says that to anybody except a woman. But it’s a thing.

And you know what? You get the upside and the downside of it. The one thing I want women to know is that you don’t walk away from a fight. You don’t let them make your decisions for you. I don’t mean to sound arrogant. But I am confident. I am confident.

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Drake's "I'm Upset" Video is an EPIC Degrassi Cast REUNION

Drake's "I'm Upset" Video is an EPIC Degrassi Cast REUNION

Jeremy Brown - Latest News - My Hollywood News

Drake’s “I’m Upset” Video is an EPIC Degrassi Cast REUNION, Hollywood Celebrity News 2017.

Online Hollywood Celebrity News, Walt Hollywood Pictures Celebrities, Drake’s “I’m Upset” Video is an EPIC Degrassi Cast REUNION.

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Drake recruits his ENTIRE Degrassi cast mates for “I’m Upset” music video and the internet LOSES IT.

This is gonna go down as one of the greatest reunions of ALL TIME.

Drake went back to his Degrassi roots for his “I’m Upset” video, and fans are HERE FOR IT. You’ll recall that Drake starred as Jimmy on the Canadian teen drama series from 2001 to 2009, and until now it seemed like Drake wanted to leave that part of his past in the past. Lucky for us, he must’ve had a change of heart, because he got the WHOLE Degrassi cast back together for “I’m Upset.”

The clip features Drake and his former Degrassi classmates fittingly reuniting at the school’s 11-year-reunion. And the entire video is just one familiar face after another. There’s Shane, Spinner, Ellie, Marco, Paige, Craig, Terri, Hazel, Ashley, Ms. Kwan, Mr. Simpson, Toby, Derek, Danny, Connor, Emma, Manny, Liberty, Mia, and Jane. And that, my friends, is the power of Drake.

Nina Dobrev, who played Mia on the show, looks like she’s having the time of her life riding a tricycle through the halls and mouthing the lyrics.

There’s one joke in the video that alludes to the time Drake’s character, Jimmy, was shot at school. The video shows the shooter, fellow student Rick, being chased down through the halls by some of “Jimmy’s” new friends.

You gotta admit that’s pretty amazing. And if that’s not enough of a crazy easter egg for ya, there’s also an epic Jay and Silent Bob cameo.

The video ends with the Degrassi theme song, as well as shots of the cast today shown next to old footage from the original show. Talk about a nostalgia fest.

Degrassi and Drake fans can NOT get over how amazing the video is, and they’re taking to Twitter to share their excitement. One fan Tweeted QUOTE, “I REALLY NEEDED THIS I DIDN’T KNOW HOW MUCH I NEEDED IT UNTIL DRAKE GAVE IT TO US” while another wrote QUOTE, “Drake’s Degrassi reunion for his “I’m Upset” video is everything Degrassi fans needed and more. The fact that he showed old videos of the cast when they were kids and used the Degrassi theme song at the end of the video. DRAKE IS THE GOAT DON’T @ ME.”

And if all this isn’t enough to make our day, Drake also announced his new album, Scorpion, will drop on June 29th.

Alright guys now I wanna hear what you think of the “I’m Upset” video — does it have you wanting to go back and binge all of Degrassi? Or start it if you’ve never seen it? Sound off in the comments below, and then click right over here to hear Ariana Grande and Troye’s sexy new song, “Dance to This.” Thanks so much for watching, and be sure to hit that subscribe button for more News Feed! I’m your girl Joslyn Davis and I’ll see you next time!

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Hollywood Celebrities 2017 & Film News, Drake’s “I’m Upset” Video is an EPIC Degrassi Cast REUNION.

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