#funny that this is Still preferable to if I went with the in-network location I was originally referred to. which I called in January 2024

[seilon]

If i don’t get an update soon on my god damn top surgery insurance negotiation im going to lose my fucking mind

[dxfiedfxte]

Minato listened to her elaborate more on how he family always had her stay with other relatives of the royal family whenever she was out of her country. As she further explained, it definitely added up. His ears did perk a bit when she mentioned that there were some instances of her staying at a hotel whenever she was in a location where none of her family or other relatives had homes, cottages, or cabins -- definitely something he much preferred since it not only gave them more freedom to spend time together, but he also didn't need to worry about her security team watching their every move like a hawk carefully observing its prey - not an ideal feeling to have when on a date, and hardly romantic too.

Grey eyes noticed Sonia staring blankly into her teacup for a few seconds, further proving to Minato that there was indeed something on her mind, Still, he'd hold out on bringing it up for now, they were about to leave soon, and the last thing he wanted to do was ruin the lighthearted mood right before he was going to show her around. Taking another bit of his piece of dorayaki, he listened to speak, whilst silently chewing.

[{ 🦋 }] - "Very agreeable. I gotta say, it's nice to actually be able to spend time with you, and not have to worry about being watched by your personal security crew. Those dudes have seen me with you a lot already, and they still look at me like I can't be trusted. It's really nice to get a break from all that. Especially in the case of a private onsen."

Minato joins her in the short laughter of her reaction to his playful statement, considering how her family was, he could only imagine what they would think of her if Sonia were to have some psychic potential, still, it was a funny thing to think about.

[{ 🦋 }] - "Haha, I could see that. Yeah, I remember you telling me how they were regarding your hobbies. I guess it's sort of a good thing that you're not part psychic then. Still fun to imagine though. It's because he knew his mother, so naturally, he was the right person to look after the kid. Sadly, he's the only old friend still here, everyone else is busy, but I still talk to Ken from time to time."

During his young adulthood, it had taken Minato a bit to adjust to his new life in the limelight, as they often called it, The paranormal investigator didn't expect his show to blow up so much, he honestly had his doubts about it the moment they filmed the first ever episode, which was in the form of an hour and forty-five-minute movie, so more like a reality documentary.

He could still remember it like it was yesterday, he and his crew had investigated the Round Schoolhouse, a very well-known paranormal hotspot located In the northern reaches of Japan the nation’s second-largest island, Hokkaido. In the rural town of Bibai. Nothing could have possibly prepared the trio for all the paranormal activity they would encounter.

The three went inside and left that creepy location completely changed men, from the experiences they had there, as well as their unexpected skyrocket to fame. Even now, it was still hard to believe that he was now on his fourth season of the show, moving on to season five very soon. The television network he was a part of recently renewed them for seven more seasons, It was like a dream come true, but even dreams came with their share of challenges and struggles, the privacy of his personal life being the number one thing that was heavily impacted by his sudden rise to fame.

His two other co-investigators Takashi and Zero had their own respective amount of fans. They were just more respectable to them since they knew that both of them already had partners, Zero with his high school sweetheart Tokoto. While Takashi had a wife named Reiko with two kids, so fans and fangirls alike understandably respected their privacy.

Unfortunately for Minato, his relationship with Sonia had been strictly private, and kept out of the public eye for obvious reasons, but since that was the case, to the multitudes of crazy and obsessive fangirls, as far as they knew, in their eyes Minato was still single and there for the taking -- one of the many reasons why he hoped their relationship would finally be revealed to the public sometime soon, so it would finally show those fangirls that he was in fact taken, and had been for a while now, and so he could finally show the world who his lover was, but of course, since she was of royal descent, it made that very difficult, but after this long, he was starting to lose hope that it would ever come to light, and as painful as it was, he kept going along with it out of respect for his girlfriend and her social status.

Minato knew very well what he was getting himself into when he admitted his feelings, but even with all the secrecy, he still very much loved her and cared for her. That's why, even after all this time, he was still willing to keep it that way, despite his wish that they would just publicly admit their relationship. Why did her family have to be so anti-paranormal? Then again, they were aristocrats, so it was more than likely seen as something extremely stupid and fake in their eyes.

As Sonia moved onto the topic of her school, Minato stuffed the rest of his dorayaki in his mouth and chewed quietly as he listened on, picking up his teacup and taking a rather large sip to wash it down as he swallowed. With his snack and tea finished he set the cup down on the table, and returned his full attention to Sonia.

[{ 🦋 }] - "Talents huh? Sounds like the school you went to is very different from any other school I've heard of. That's pretty neat though, I guess there are all kinds of different schools out there. Hmm. Well, we didn't do everything seen in anime. Though we did attend festivals, and did take a summer vacation to a beach. It was an island called Yakushima, just north of here. And I do remember going to see some movies with a few of my friends, just individually, I think it was during the Golden Week movie marathon."

Sonia's enthusiasm for things was something that never failed to make Minato look on in awe, she was just so cute whenever her beautiful blue eyes would light up with excitement. Her lighthearted joke about his haunts without ghosts earned her a chuckle from the blue-scarved paranormal investigator.

When she asks if he's ready to go, he gives a smile and a nod, he couldn't wait to show her around, the only downside was that Minato would have to make sure he kept the mental note of regularly checking the time, but not too often to draw suspicion. The discreet warning from Kikuno still lingered in the back of his mind: Be careful at night, Mistress Mitsuru has said there's been some Shadow activity here, have your evoker ready.

It was Minato's turn to stare into space for a second. As he began to ponder what exactly this meant, there was also one major concern, if shadows were back, did that also mean the Dark Hour was back too? Whatever the reason for these shadows appearing, it wasn't a good one.

Grey eyes quickly blink back into reality. While he was only spacing out for about a single minute, it felt like more like twenty. As soon as he came back from space, his eyes were quick to again meet her gaze with a smile, somehow, despite being in thought, he still managed to catch her question.

[{ 🦋 }] - "Hm? Oh, yeah I'm good. We can head out. Man, I can't wait to show you around. I think I'll show you my old high school first, but that means, we'll have to take the train. Or if you're not comfortable with that, I can always either rent a car or call Kikuno to pick us up again. What do you think?" The fool eagerly replies as he rises up to his feet from the chair. He figured he'd ask her first, even if they were guaranteed their privacy, both from his fans and her family's security. The fact remains that the two of them were very noticeable public figures.

Since she was little, Sonia had understood something of what it meant to keep up appearances, to maintain a look. Whether it was meant as something palatable to the people one served or simply something chosen for personal satisfaction, everyone had their own aesthetic. Minato was no different, but what made Sonia smile from her seated place at the low table was how his style seemed in sharp contrast to the person he was. With Gundham Tanaka, it had made sense: her high school boyfriend had been both brooding and engulfed in a fantastical sort of darkness that made him appear larger than life (to Sonia) and deranged (to pretty much everyone else). But his preference for black, grey, and purple was understandable: he fashioned himself then as the Supreme Overlord of Ice and his look reflected it, despite the warm and tender heart he possessed beneath.

But with Minato, and his closet and interior decor all in shades of black and blue, it didn't correlate. Yes, he'd made a career of being a paranormal investigator known around the world, but unlike Gundham he was full of smiles. Of bright and cheerful conversations, of laughter. He explored the dark and the misunderstood, but that wasn't who Minato Arisato was. It was entirely possible that for appearances' sake, he simply liked the colors, and even though she couldn't imagine him in anything else, they still seemed to mask the kindness and light within.

"It is common among the aristocracy, as far as I am aware," She nodded. Even if it wasn't the most comfortable of topics to discuss, Sonia supposed there was no time like the present to explain to Minato some of the customs of her life. At least it would give reason to why even the most mundane parts of a hotel (a check-in desk, for example) entertained her. "When traveling, especially within one's country, it is the custom to utilize the visit as a reason to see other aristocrats and enjoy their properties. A holdover, I think, from the days before luxury hotels and resorts: my family does stay at those, particularly in places where we do not have friends with, ah, adequate homes." Or rather, homes without the space for the traveling staff and security that came with members of the Royal Family, and residences that were deemed comfortable enough for the likes of royalty.

"But you might find such preferences agreeable!" She interjected with a smile, hoping he wasn't ruminating on how much such services could cost. Even if the traveling party wasn't paying for it, the home and property owners were with an uptick of temporary staff, food, entertainment, and more that needed to be coordinated for a visit. "Many ancestral homes, in Novoselic and across Europe, are often rumored to be haunted due to ancestors and others perishing on the property. I am sure that some of them have been investigated, too."

It dawned on her as she poured herself a cup of tea that bringing up haunted estates at home would, most likely, only prompt her boyfriend to share his desire to visit. Sonia exhaled as she wrapped her hands around the cup, a welcome balm to the chilly autumn breeze that blew in off the ocean. Surely he too must have noticed by now that she had yet to invite him home formally, properly: even without a public announcement that she was no longer unattached and had not been for some time, Sonia had still eschewed a private meeting of her family. For a holiday, or some other event where only the immediate members were invited: not that she hadn't wanted to, she thought as she waited for the drink to cool down enough to comfortably sip. But because her requests to do so had been denied: without speaking even one word to Minato Arisato, the Royal Family had refused to send an invitation. His curious lack of parentage could be explained away, if that had been the only objection: but it was his career, his fame, that had been the point of contention.

Acting in a well-received horror and suspense film was one thing, but truly believing there were ghosts and trying to contact them was quite another. And several episodes of Paranormal Quest and a sweep of Minato's media appearances and digital presence had been enough for them to believe he was not quite Grace Kelly-quality. Even Meghan Markle had moved from a 'tacky game show' to a 'scripted drama,' according to Queen Valentina. Minato Arisato was a scandal waiting to happen.

It only occurred to Sonia that she was staring into her teacup with a frown when he had chimed in, his clothes having been fully put away. "Oh! Y-yes, I did," Sonia piped up with an embarrassed smile, taking a sip of her tea before continuing. "Anything to avoid scandal is generally acted upon, and being caught in the nude was not a risk my family was willing to take, even if it was acting according to the culture of the country, in an onsen. But a private onsen for a room is acceptable, so my security was willing to stand down some for this holiday."

Besides, homemade dorayaki and meals from regional ingredients, the calm simplicity, and the aforementioned private outdoor bath couldn't be found in a Western-style hotel regardless. It encouraged her to slow down and enjoy the little time she had away from being a Princess and suspected her boyfriend rather felt the same where Paranormal Quest was concerned. "Hah! It would be yet another quality to alarm my family if I was," Sonia laughed between bites of her half of the red bean-filled pancake. "No, my hobbies alone perturb them enough: adding psychic capabilities may be too much to contend with. But that is wonderful that you still have friends who reside here, and your friend is admirable for taking him in. I cannot imagine many teenagers who would be willing to do so."

"At my school," She continued, finishing the rest of the dorayaki half on her plate. Not only were there likely plenty of local eateries to try, but Sonia knew Minato would polish off the rest of the welcome snack and would likely proclaim he was still hungry afterwards. A predictable situation she found to be comforting now, she thought as she drained her teacup. "We were so busy with our selected talents that looking after siblings, even, was often impossible, much less adopted children or pets unless that was part of a talent. It took great effort on the part of my homeroom teacher to unite us as a class, as friends, and we did not do too much of what I always saw in anime: visits to the karaoke, the film theaters, the shopping plazas and amusement parks. Is that how you and your friends spent your time in high school? Oh, I am so eager to see your 'haunts,' so to speak! Though without the ghosts I suppose: if you are now refreshed, shall we depart to explore them?"

[sanktnikolais]

Feed The Wolves

A/N: your local zoyalai stan neighbor is here yet again for another content but this time it’s for @wafflesandkruge​‘s birthday!!! I went way overboard with this ig but the Vincenzo fever we’ve been on for the past two weeks was still strong and the ending still tugs at my heart. So pls have this mess, Tiff, I’m sorry HAHDKLHJAFDS Happy birthday, dearest! 🥺🥺

Word count: 13 874

CW: graphic depictions of violence and gore. Read at your own risk.

The Lantsovs have finally taken their move to overthrow the Brums’ tyranny to the extremities. They thought they already have the upper hand and that the odds are finally on their side. But in a game that two players have nothing and everything to lose, there is always a catch in every move they make, and with it also comes a price.

How far are they willing to take it?

If Nikolai could be proud of one moment, he knew it would be today. One couldn’t just make an easy audience with the head of the Brum Family; usually it would take nearly a week to set up an appointment. Jarl Brum was one of the first men to establish their own Families, along with the Tabans, Lantsovs, and the Morozovas, and he was the most powerful among them. 

          For now. 

          When one of the biggest Families was in a war and planning to attack another with the same reputation, it was only necessary to play carefully. Especially going against a cunning opponent like Jarl Brum. Today’s predicament was tricky; one wrong move could cost them the chance. Or worse—their lives. Either way, it was dangerous. But if they didn’t at least try to keep the Brums at bay, it would only be a matter of time before they take over all the cities, including Os Alta. And considering how they handled things, lots of lives could be lost. 

          There was still another way out of this, but it involved extreme measures and there would be no returning after that. He could only hope he wouldn’t have to settle for that last resort no matter how slim his chances were.

          Nikolai snapped the lid of his lighter closed, his loud mind finding solace in the metallic clink it made. His eyes caught on the engraving on the side of the lighter. Consigliere Idiot. He fought a smile. The lighter had been a gift to him by Zoya on his birthday a few years back, and it somehow became his talisman ever since. It was a weird kind of gift at first, with Zoya knowing too well that he didn’t smoke that much. But he still got attached to it. 

          You never know, it might come in handy when you suddenly have an urge to set some place on fire, was what she had told him. 

          He scoffed at the memory, and then took a deep breath as he focused on his current situation. The risks of having this meeting turn to the bloodbath Nikolai was expecting were high, and if he were to be honest, winning a fight against the Brums was almost impossible. 

          But he was never the one to believe in impossible. Only improbable. The one thing he could do now was to put faith on the odds being at their side at the end of the day.

          He flicked his lighter open and closed again before checking his watch. The bright numbers glared back at him like a countdown of a time bomb nearing its detonation. 17:48. Twelve minutes. 

          If his estimate was right, Zoya and her men would have arrived by now and started their raid. But knowing the Lantsov Underboss to be careful and precise, they would need a bit more time. It only meant Nikolai had to continue making small talks with the man to try and see if he could settle a score with the Don without the use of violence. Talking proved to be a bit difficult, though, as the head of the Family was being attentive to focusing on his paperworks rather than Nikolai’s presence.

          "The numbers are really unstable in the past two weeks and it's mostly plummeting," said Jarl as his eyes scanned the paper he was holding for the last time. Then with a dramatic sigh, he opened the drawer to his right and put the file inside, plastering a rather fake smile on his lips afterwards. "There's been a lot of visitors."

          Nikolai could see right through the man's displeasure. He almost laughed. At least the feeling is mutual. "Tell me about it," he said with a light laugh. "Having your business overrun without any reason sure does something to you." 

          A shadow crossed the Don's face, but Nikolai only smiled innocently and held his gloved hand out for a handshake, a sort of formal gesture between a Don and a Consigliere before and after every meeting. Anyone lower than the Underboss aren't allowed to touch the head of a Family, and they could only do as much as bow in respect for the Don. 

          Jarl accepted it reluctantly, his grip firm as if he were contemplating breaking Nikolai’s hand. Nikolai was grateful when the man didn't. Maybe because it wasn't a good sight to have and talk business to a Consigliere with a broken hand. 

          "A pleasant afternoon, isn't it?" mused Nikolai as he took a sip of the coffee. It tasted good, but not nearly as good as Genya's brew. No poison. Or maybe there was and the effects just weren't kicking in yet. He suddenly wished for the woman's knack on any poison. "The perfect chance to kill time.”

          The Brum Don laughed lightly, the sound mildly threatening as if he had just thought of something vile. “Indeed, Consigliere,” he said, leaning back more comfortably in his chair. “Is the coffee good? I apologize if it isn’t, but I do hope the atmosphere is comfortable.”

          Nikolai fought a wince. He had been here a few times before. Jarl’s office was ice white—ranging from the walls, floorings, and the ceiling. Even the chair he was sitting on had been white. The only thing that gave another color to the pasty room were the furniture and a few appliances. At least his couches were blood red, and the view of the huge window behind his desk was different in shade. Nikolai was thankful for the change of scenery. 

          “No, no. Everything is good.” It sounded fake, considering how he despised the man's office. But he shook it off. He tipped the mug up in a toast. “I appreciate it, and thank you for accepting my appointment.” He found it funny and silly, when Jarl’s caporegimes used the term “appointment”. It was as if Nikolai wanted to get his teeth checked by a dentist, and considering how the man’s office looked, maybe it really was one. “I thought it would take me another week to wait for the confirmation.”

          “You’re a Lantsov, from the first pioneers of the Families.” Jarl paused, a hint of a sneer appearing on his face. “You needn’t to be delayed.”

          There was something the way Jarl spoke that didn’t sit well with Nikolai, like the man knew something he didn’t. A thought crossed his mind, but he shook it off. There was no way Jarl knew about that. Or was it? It was not impossible—the Brum Don had a wide network of informants. Rumor had it that there were a few in Os Alta, the city that the Lantsovs had control over. 

          Him knowing about Nikolai’s real father would only give him power against them. But then Nikolai still decided to brush it off, though its dangerous possibility still lingered at the back of his mind. It wasn’t the time to think of it. They had to take back the territories that were once theirs, even if they had to do it by brute force. It’s what Zoya would have preferred, anyway.

          “That’s good to hear,” said Nikolai with a tight smile.

          The man crossed his hands over the table, a glint evident in his eyes. Nikolai didn’t know what to make out of it. “So let’s hear it, Consigliere,” said Jarl. “What brings the Lantsovs here?”

          Straight to the point. Nikolai put his mug back to the desk and removed his gloves, exposing his scarred hands. Jarl’s eyes flitted to Nikolai's hands for a moment before looking away, an uncomfortable expression on his face. Nikolai felt a sneer twitch on his lips. Scars weren’t new to people like them—they had new ones very often, depending on the work they were doing that time. It was their brand, and they wear it with pride.

          But if people knew the history of the scars you bore, especially when you had gotten it from being the vicious Enforcer who once intimidated the streets of Halmhend, you would have an ace against your enemies. And for Nikolai, he exactly just had that. 

          “We’re eyeing the areas in Halmhend and Ulensk for expansion,” he said, and he noticed the Brum Don perk up a little from his chair. Now Nikolai had his attention. “I heard that the two properties in those locations require some...changes. Big changes, if I may add. So I would like to propose an offer to buy the property for double its actual value.” He stopped to consider, putting a finger to his chin. "No, wait. Make it triple." 

          Jarl didn't answer for a while, and his expression was in between being offended and amused. Nikolai wondered if the man thought that his offer was a bluff. 

          "I think you're quite mistaken, Consigliere," he said mildly, his tone having an underlying disbelief. "We do not place our properties up for purchase or any sort of deal." 

          The properties you had taken from Families by force, Nikolai wanted to say, but he bit back his tongue. The feel of the lighter in his other hand was enough to ease the sudden flare of anger in his chest. He put on his signature grin to cover it up. "Ah, but I thought your numbers were plummeting for the past two weeks? I think my offer would help the numbers to be friendly and rise up nicely again." 

          "Is that what your father told you to do?" Jarl asked as he leaned back further into his chair. The look on his face had gone from slightly friendly to threatening. "To try and sway me with money?" 

          "Don't we all want to be swayed and pampered by money?" countered Nikolai, the grin never leaving his lips. Jarl’s expression only became darker, and it made Nikolai want to goad him more. "Think of the numbers finally rising, Jarl. I know you want that." 

          "It’s foolish to think that I’d willingly sell properties that we have the ability to look after just quite well, Consigliere.” The Brum Don shook his head with a disappointed expression. “I never thought you would be this desperate.”

          This ticked something inside Nikolai, and he found himself suddenly saying, “Is that why you worked with the Radimovs to overthrow our territories?”

          There was a tense silence, and the expression on Jarl’s face turned from angry to mildly surprised, like he hadn't expected Nikolai to know about the Brums involvement with the assault. They weren't the only Family with spies stationed in different cities; the Lantsovs had just as much informants as the Brums have, if not a bit less.

          Nikolai took the silence as his chance to continue. "Ah, let me make that clear. The Radimovs doing the dirty work and the Brums happening to ‘buy’ the two properties the following day from them. That's pretty much all of it, right? And it's not different from what you did with the Tabans and the Demidovs. And somehow the Morozovas too." He chuckled darkly. "Though it's probably pretty much the Morozovas' payment to your Family for protecting their ass, so I wouldn't really take that into account. Doesn't take a genius to figure that out."

          Jarl’s jaw was set, as if determined not to admit to the accusation. His eyes were hard, but Nikolai could notice the man's hand suddenly fiddling the pen within his reach in tense movements. He has such an obvious tell. "I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about." 

          "Oh, I'm merely joking, sir. I mean, I am indeed a genius in certain aspects, but I didn’t learn about that information by connecting the dots. I knew about your tactics from an informant," said Nikolai with a kind smile. "We may have been spiraling a bit out of control since the attempted murder of my father, but we're not as stupid as you think."

          The Brums had used the Lantsovs’ distraction in prioritizing the Don’s security to their advantage, going as far as making frequent appearances in their properties, and even in Os Alta. One of the instances he couldn’t forget were the three Brum soldiers who had caused disturbance in their bar in Kribirsk, and it stirred up the brewing dispute between their Families. 

          Nikolai wouldn't even be surprised if the Brums had something to do with the assassination. And if he were to really think of it now, it was most likely possible. The Demidovs weren't that powerful enough to do something as bold as trying to take down one of the most powerful Dons in the country, unless there was a much bigger hand controlling them. 

          The only Family who had the ability to pull off a stunt like that was the Brums. But knowing them, they always used someone else to do their dirty work for them as they wanted to maintain the 'clean slate' of their name. 

          They could always put out the fire, but they can never cover up the smoke. 

          Jarl considered Nikolai for another moment, and then he let out a loud laugh. “I get why Alexander appointed you as Consigliere and not your older brother. A clever boy, you are,” he said. "Can't be fooled easily." 

          "I'd take that as a compliment, sir," said Nikolai. 

          He reached over to the mug of coffee again, but his hand suddenly felt stiff and rigid as if something was keeping it from being able to move. Then his vision blurred slightly for a moment before it sharpened again, making him blink. 

          It took him a second, and a quiet laugh bubbled from his chest. His suspicions were right, then. He gripped the lighter tightly in his hand like it was the only source of his strength. Coffee was the last thing he had expected to have poison in it, and disbelief muddled his mind. 

          Cheeky bastard, should have put it in brandy or whiskey instead of slandering coffee this way.

          Nikolai held the mug with a bit of effort in his outstretched hand, trying not to let his strain show. But when he looked up back to the Don again, there was no denying that he had already noticed Nikolai’s difficulty in moving, and the beginning of a smirk was evident on Jarl’s expression. The knife hidden under the lapel of Nikolai’s coat suddenly felt heavy.

          This was going to be a pain to get through again. 

          "How's your father, Nikolai?" the man asked. Even his voice sounded faraway now. "Is he recovering well?" 

          "He is. Quite well, I'll say. He might get discharged next week," Nikolai replied before raising the mug to his lips again. It was only when he took another sip of the coffee did he finally recognize the slightest difference in the taste of a purely black coffee. Genya would have scolded him for not recognizing it right away. Cyanide. Cheap. "He sends his regards, by the way." 

          Jarl smiled. "I appreciate it." He paused, his eyebrows furrowing in mock concern. Nikolai wanted to laugh. "Are you alright? You seem to be looking quite unwell."

          Nikolai shrugged, the movement requiring much more effort as he was still adjusting to the toxins in his body. "I'm fine, just a bit stiff. The coffee had a bit of a kick in it."

          "Ah, but you did like your coffee without sugar, right?" 

          "Yeah, makes it more bracing." He gestured to the mug with a nod before placing it back to the desk. A dull tremor shot through him, and he fiddled with the lighter in his hand to keep it from going completely numb. "So, is your answer really a no?" 

          "You make me laugh, Consigliere. Here you are, alone, wanting to have an appointment to meet with me just to offer some nonsense." 

          “I wouldn’t actually call it nonsense I would say ultimatum, but that sounds too threatening so I think I’d tone it down for a bit,” said Nikolai, his tone light. He checked his watch. 17:58. Almost there. But then another tremor shot through him, and this time, he wasn’t able to stop a pained groan from tearing in his throat. He raised a finger. “Wait, give me a second.”

          Nikolai closed his eyes and breathed deeply, flexing his fingers open and close. This was becoming rather embarrassing for him, to give threats to someone of a much higher rank than him while looking he was about to throw up, but he took his time. After a few more moments, he finally regained his composure. When he looked back up to the Don, Jarl had an amused expression on his face as if he were thinking of Nikolai as a big joke. 

          "Consider it a friendly warning," Nikolai said with a grin. “I wouldn’t want to spew threats yet when I still haven’t tried to convince you to change your mind.”

          Jarl’s expression darkened. "This is a three-hectare property. No one would notice the Lantsov Consigliere not coming out of here." 

          "Oh, dear me. Are we doing threats now?" Nikolai laughed, or more like wheezed, and shook his head. "Three hectares, you say? So if I burned down this side of the compound, firefighters won't arrive in time, no? Or even just shooting you, I'm pretty sure no one else would hear." 

          "You're in my compound, Nikolai. My territory." 

          Nikolai shrugged. "Hasn't stopped me before." 

          "There are guards patrolling around right outside the hall. They will immediately barge in the moment I hit the alarm." 

          "Ah, let them. I like that kind of attention. Boosts my ego exponentially." The watch around Nikolai’s wrist beeped softly, and he glanced down at it to confirm that the numbers had already turned to 18:00. "I also did like my coffee without poison, actually. But I appreciate the improvised addition. Cyanide as an alternative to sugar? Genius. Gave a rush of thrill in my blood." 

          If Nikolai could frame the look of the evident shock on Jarl’s face, he would have made a whole exhibit just for it. People needed to see such a rare sighting of the Brum Don getting caught off guard. The man blinked repeatedly, as if he didn't believe what he was seeing in front of him. 

          Trust me, this will get useful at some point, Genya's voice echoed in his head. Nikolai silently thanked their caporegime's insistence for him to develop poison immunity. All those days of handling mild paralysis and unconsciousness was worth it. 

          "Oh, pardon me. Was I being too straightforward with that?" He chuckled lightly. "I can repeat it though. You got me good there, I can already feel it kicking in. But if you wanted to kill me, I think I would prefer a bullet to the brain just to be sure. That's a hundred percent chance I wouldn't walk out of here alive, or just mix in as much cyanide as you have. A sprinkle won’t be enough."

          Jarl let out a laugh of his own, but the sound came out nervous instead of threatening. The man was evidently pale and he was now holding the pen so tightly in his fist he could have snapped it in half. "But that would be messy now, wouldn't it?" he said with a grin. Even his smile looked forced. "As you've told me, we don't do the dirty work.

          "Hmm, fair. But there would be no thrill at all, would it? Having to hide behind your coffers and let others do the labor? That's icky." Nikolai shook his head. There was another tremor that shot throughout his body, but it was much weaker than the ones before it, and he almost smiled. At least that was over. Bless you, Genya. He leaned forward for a bit, his eyes narrowing curiously. "Do tell me, Jarl. How would it feel when someone else takes over your business by force, and brutally kills your men and innocent workers in the process? They’re not a threat, Jarl. Much less an enemy. Why involve them in the mess? We don’t do that. That is against our principles. But I guess that's never in your book, was it? You just do things that would satisfy your greed and thirst for blood."

          “Getting bolder now, aren't we, Consigliere? I would watch that mouth of yours if I were you. Do you think the Lantsovs could handle another loss, especially their Consigliere?” The Brum Don shook his head, a look of disappointment on his face. “Who would try to handle things diplomatically?”

          It was threat after threat. “That is a good question, sir,” said Nikolai. He flexed his fingers on both hands and put them on his knees. “I know Nazyalensky can be diplomatic if need be. But I also know she prefers to use rather drastic measures than talking. ‘It’s the easier way’, she always says. I would have to agree with her at certain times.”

          “Are you implying something?”

          Nikolai plastered a grin on his face. “Only the fact that you’d be facing lesser diplomatic meetings with the Lantsovs if I ever not make it out of here alive,” he said. A soft ping resounded, and he took out his phone from his coat pocket. He checked the alert, his grin turning smug and menacing, the kind that people rarely see the Lantsov Consigliere ever did. “And that you’d probably be dealing with it sooner than you thought.”

          A look of confusion bloomed on the Don’s face, and then, as if on cue, the telephone on the side of his desk blared, the sound startling Jarl and making him jump slightly on his seat. He looked at it with suspicion. Nikolai wanted to laugh, but he figured that it would be rude. Besides, the whole ordeal wasn’t done yet—a lot could still happen, and he was still reeling from the effects of the poison. But he could already see the odds on their side.

          “I would answer that if I were you,” Nikolai said calmly, his fingers finding the lid of his lighter again. He flicked it open and back close. He could still feel the strain in his hand, but at least it he could move it properly again. “It’s probably important.”

          Jarl narrowed his eyes at him. “What’s your deal, Consigliere? Why are you really here?”

          “Just answer the telephone, sir. Maybe it will give you the answer.”

          There was another tense silence. The Brum Don suddenly didn’t look like he was having fun trying to get him cornered. This was the best part for Nikolai, the thrill he always got whenever the upper hand his enemies had against him was suddenly taken away from them and he would watch them crumble slowly and back away until they were the ones cornered instead of him. It was such a satisfying view to watch. 

          And Nikolai were to look at it now, it was exactly how he wanted it. One didn’t just easily get Jarl Brum on the edge of his seat. 

          “Well?” Nikolai mused.

          The frown on Brum Don’s face only deepened, and then reluctantly, he reached for the telephone and slowly raised the receiver near his ear. A few beats, and then, “Yes?”

          Nikolai watched the man’s face pale, his eyes shifting everywhere with the look of evident panic in them. His hand tightened around the receiver until his knuckles were almost white from gripping it too much. There was just so much anger radiating off of him that Nikolai was surprised the Don hadn’t even pointed a gun at him yet. 

          Then Jarl’s attention snapped to him after a moment, his eyes murderous with every intent to kill. Nikolai returned his look with an innocent grin, and the Don’s jaw was set in complete rage. If were some other person, he knew he would have cowered back in fear. But years trying to prove himself he was worthy to be an official member of the Lantsov family despite his bloodline contributed a lot to the name he had built for himself. 

          The Demon Prince of Halmhend—the people had whispered his name in both awe and fear. And with each dark and nasty scar and blood he got on his hands, the stronger his reputation grew. He would get the job done, and he would use whatever method he had to, even if it meant having to have a staredown with death himself.

          It would take much more than some Don’s murderous look to derail Nikolai from his goal. 

          He watched patiently as the Don put back the receiver to the cradle, his dark gaze turning from enraged to cold fury, like he had finally accepted whatever was said to him in the call. Jarl stared down at him for another long moment, and Nikolai could practically see the gears in the man’s head working. 

          “Alright, Consigliere. You made your point.” The Don kept his face expressionless, but his eyes told Nikolai otherwise. “What do you really want?”

          Finally. “Stop the unnecessary attacks and killings,” Nikolai said. “You can’t keep that act up and expect the others not to turn against you.”

          “No one would dare go against us. We both know that.”

          “It’s because we’re still holding back.”

          A shadow passed over Jarl’s face, and his expression darkened even more. “Is that a challenge?”

          “Maybe,” replied Nikolai. He reached up to fix his tie. “If I were to be honest, the Tabans could take you any day. They just don’t choose to. Waste of resources, they say. But really, I understand. It would be too easy for them.”

          “The Tabans don’t choose to fight because they’re cowards,” Jarl said with a huff. “Not because they don’t choose to do so.”

          Nikolai wrinkled his nose. “Tell that to Madam Makhi’s face, and you’ll see your throat by the end of her sword,” he said. He leaned forward as if to tell a secret. “She keeps a very sharp sword in her office, by the way. And she knows how to use it, so I don’t really suggest going against her.”

          Jarl shook his head, the smirk still evident on his lips. “And if I don’t agree to your motion? What can you possibly do with—”

          “You would find my family retaliating,” Nikolai cut him off, and the Don reared back in mild surprise. “The attacks would continue, and I will let it go on. Don’t try fighting in a war where you’re going to lose.” 

          The Don didn’t say anything after that. Nikolai gave him a smile, feeling a bit more confident than before that maybe they had driven Jarl Brum into a corner. Then, to his astonishment, Jarl did something entirely beyond his expectation.

          He laughed.

          And it wasn’t the desperate type but rather a genuinely amused one, like he had just heard the funniest joke that Nikolai could have ever done. Instantly, his grin faded. Jarl Brum was actually laughing. Nikolai could only look back at the Brum Don with utter confusion as uneasiness settled in his gut. The man acted as if he was one step ahead of them, and whatever confidence Nikolai had in himself the moment he stepped inside the man’s office was gone. 

          “The White Island, huh?” Jarl said through his laughs. He shook his head, dramatically reaching up to wipe the nonexistent tears from his eyes. "That hotel is quite a sight, but its location in Ulensk is utter shit. You can burn it down all you want, I wouldn't mind. You didn't have to hide the fact you would raid it just to make a point."

          Dread washed over Nikolai. It felt like this was the real poison taking effect in his system and halted his thoughts completely. How in the saints' name did Jarl know about the raid? Were Tolya and Tamar safe? Which part of the Don's terrified look had been real? 

          He watched the Brum Don stand from his seat and walked to the drawers behind his desk. He bent down to pull a bottle of wine out along with two glasses, humming happily as he went along. It was a baffling sight to see Jarl’s shift in his demeanor, especially from the perspective of a person who knew their way around manipulating their own emotions. 

          Was this how he looked like to other people? Awful and terrifying? 

          "You're a lot silent now, Consigliere," mused Jarl as he poured wine onto the two glasses. He didn't even need to turn around for Nikolai to know that the man was having fun having the upper hand once again. "Did I surprise you?" 

          Nikolai's hand clenched into a fist to keep it from trembling badly with suppressed fury. It wasn't the right time to act yet. He glared at the Brum Don's back, and with slow, silent movements, he carefully reached for the knife under his lapel and slipped it in the edge of his sleeve. The distress and fear clouding his mind may have been overwhelming enough to make him unable to answer, but he wasn't going to let any chances slide. The Brum Don took his silence as a cue to continue. 

          "Ah, don't worry. Your guys leading the raid in White Island Hotel is fine," said Jarl with a light laugh. "I didn't put extra security there tonight on purpose. So your guys are probably done turning the place upside down by now." Then he paused, lifting his head up to stare out the glass window in front of him. "It's actually your people who went to the arms factory I'm worried about." 

          Whatever composure Nikolai had in himself crumbled to nothing. No—

          "You're probably wondering how I knew about it. Well, like you, I have my informants too. And that huge shipment of firepower last week? What other reasons did the Lantsovs have to have that kind of shipment aside from going to war? Doesn't need to take a genius to figure that out." Jarl walked back to his desk and placed the other glass of wine he was holding in front of Nikolai. "And what's the most convenient thing to hit during a war? The arms factory and its warehouse. It's only our luck that you sent Nazyalensky to her own demise. I did put more security in that place." 

          For once, Nikolai didn't have anything to say back. He usually prided himself of being able to make people bow down to his wishes, even if it meant threatening them to the extremes or just simply having a conversation with them. 

          And yet the mere thought of Zoya in danger was enough to spiral him out of his thoughts.

          "I did surprise you now, didn't I?" Jarl chuckled, taking another sip from his glass. "You see, this is what I meant when I said no one dares to go against us. I'm always a step ahead."

          Nikolai gritted his teeth, clenching his hands into fists to keep himself from lunging at the Don. "What did you do to her?" 

          "Do settle down, Consigliere. She's not in danger. Oh, at least not yet. I haven't given them any orders." He paused, frowning as if he had said something wrong. "But that may change in a moment. Unless you do something for me." 

          "What do you want?" 

          Jarl raised an eyebrow. "That was fast, I haven't even blinked," he said. "It's quite a sight to see the great Lantsov Consigliere quickly bow down just because his woman is in danger." 

          "Just say your conditions, Jarl." 

          "You will agree to sign a contract that would legally make the Lantsovs as the Brums' subsidiary." 

          Nikolai looked at the Don with utter disbelief like he had just grown another head on his shoulder. Jarl must have been joking. Maybe Zoya was alright and had already handled the situation at Halmhend. Nikolai's irritation suddenly flared. His thinking was becoming too unstable—which wasn't ideal for his current situation. And if he continued to let Jarl’s words get to him, he would certainly lose this fight. 

          "In fact, it's still quite a generous offer." Jarl tipped his head in respect. "It's for seeing through that coffee I gave you. And even surviving it." 

          "And what if I don't?" Nikolai asked, voice nearly a hiss. 

          Jarl smiled. “Then Nazyalensky dies. Very simple.” 

          “How do I know you’re not bluffing?”

          Then as if on cue, Nikolai’s phone rang again, tearing his attention away from wanting to lunge at the Don. He looked at the screen, and it showed a restricted number was trying to make a call. And even though it didn't exactly show who was calling, Nikolai already knew who was on the other line. 

          "I would answer that if I were you," said Jarl, his tone smug as he repeated Nikolai’s line from earlier. With a confident smile that almost ticked off the last Nikolai’s patience, Jarl added, "It's probably important." 

          Nikolai looked down at his phone again, thinking that maybe if he stared hard enough at the bright numbers glaring back at him, the call would stop and prove that the Brum Don was just bluffing. 

          But when it continued to ring, it stabbed fear into his heart. Zoya never called him during an operation, only quick signals and messages. 

          "Well?" Jarl mused. He took a sip from his own glass and raised an eyebrow. "Nazyalensky won't wait all night." 

          The urge to act upon his anger was now stronger than his will to keep on a neutral face, and yet Nikolai still held back. He wouldn't do anything unless he was sure he had every reason to. 

          But the mention of Zoya's name from this despicable man's lips was making it hard to keep himself from killing the Don. 

          "If you lay even one finger on her," Nikolai said, voice low with threat, "I will burn every single place you have until the flames reach you and you will be burning down with them." 

          A shadow passed on Jarl’s face, but it was gone as soon as Nikolai could blink, and there was the sneer on his face again. "Just answer the call, Consigliere." 

          Nikolai did what he was told and he swiped the icon to the right. He slowly put the phone to his ear, his gaze never wavering from Jarl. 

          The other line was quiet, except for the occasional strained breathing in the background. He fought the urge to call out for her name—it wasn't the time to give the Brum Don more leverage against him. So he waited. 

          Zoya, he pleaded in his mind. Please be alright. 

          It was a desperate thought, one he hoped that would be true, because he would have to settle for the last resort and the Don wouldn't see another sunrise after tonight. 

          There was another silence, more ragged breathing. Nikolai's vision was starting to tunnel as he fought for composure, and Don's smirk was only adding fuel to the fire in him that was waiting to be ignited. 

          A beat, and there was a pained voice that said, "Nikolai—" 

          Something in Nikolai snapped, and he was suddenly flicking the knife out from his sleeve and then hauled it at Jarl Brum. 

          It hit the man on his shoulder hard enough for his chair to tip back, and he fell over with a shout. Nikolai shot up from his own chair and slid over the Don's desk, landing on the ground next to the man and kicking the man's arm even before he could reach for the alarm button under the edge of the table. He kept Jarl's arm pinned to the floor with his foot, and when the Don tried to reach for Nikolai's ankle with his other free arm, he pressed his foot harder against the man's arm he was sure he heard a soft crack.

          Dizziness hit nim like a tidal wave that almost threw him off balance. His vision swayed. Waiting for his body to adapt to the toxins would still take a bit of time, but he was being driven by his rage that he almost forgot he wasn’t here to kill the Don.

          "Did I catch you off guard?" Jarl asked with a strained laugh. "She really is your soft spot, eh? If I had known earlier I would have—" 

          Nikolai didn’t let him finish and brought his foot down with force, completely breaking the man's wrist. Jarl opened his mouth to let out a scream of pain, but Nikolai's other foot had already hit the Don across face before he could make a sound. Blood dripped from the side of the man's lips, and he spit it out to the side. 

          “I would watch that mouth of yours if I were you,” Nikolai said. With casual ease, he nudged the handle of the knife with his toe, and it earned another shout from the man. A smirk twitched on his lips at the sound of the Don's agony. There was always something satisfying in hearing your enemies scream in pain. "Not looking so tough now, aren't you, sir? But do scream all you want. Your office is soundproof, isn’t it?" 

          Despite himself, Jarl still hadn't cowered back in fear. If possible, he only became much angrier than when Nikolai was goading him before. "The Families would know about this assault," he said through gritted teeth. "You're making a big mistake by attacking the Brum Don." 

          "Am I now?" Nikolai leaned closer, resting his elbow on his bent knee. He reached out his other hand and patted Jarl on the cheek. The man flinched under his touch. "And 'Brum Don'? All I see is a dead man."

          Jarl’s eyes widened in fear. "You won't kill me." 

          Nikolai huffed lightly. "That's what our enemies in Halmhend used to say." He shrugged, and then reached for the Don’s uninjured arm. "Look where it got them." 

          With a hard tug on the man’s wrist, Nikolai kicked the desk until it was farther away from Jarl’s reach. He wasn’t taking any chances of the Don trying to sneak and alarm his men to his office. At least not just yet. They had the time for games later. Nikolai dragged Jarl to the wine drawer, throwing him off to the small wooden doors with a resounding thump. 

          Jarl groaned in pain, and yet it still sounded restrained as if he were keeping himself from making another shout. He was cradling his broken wrist on his lap, shoulder hunched forward enough for him to not show his face. 

          Nikolai raised an eyebrow. "Don't be shy now, I know you want to shout," he said as he grabbed the Don's fallen chair, standing it upright again and pulling it in front of Jarl before sitting down. He pulled out the lighter from his pocket. "I don't like it when they don't scream in pain."

          There was no answer for a long moment, with the Don still in his hunched position. Nikolai eyed him sideways. The man's shoulders were shaking with every breath he drew, and the spot where the knife was lodged continued to leak of blood. 

          It was new to him to see Jarl Brum in such a vulnerable state. But he was still trying to put up the tough persona a Don should have, and Nikolai was determined to break him slowly. Inflicting immense pain was one of the strengths Nikolai learned in the streets that gave birth to his name.

          “Still good, sir?” he asked in mock wonder. “You’re not as strong as I thought.”

          The man shot up from his place on the floor, his other arm stretched out as if to reach for Nikolai’s neck, but the Consigliere had already anticipated it. He simply leaned back and grabbed the man by both of his arms. His movements stopped. 

          Nikolai gave him a sneer. "Courageous," he said with genuine respect. "But still slow."

          He kicked the man on the chest, sending him crashing back to the drawers in a heap. Then Nikolai brought his foot down to Jarl’s ankle this time. There was another resounding crack, followed by a howl of pain. He almost smiled. 

          "Now that's the shout," Nikolai said. He stared down at the Don with pity. Jarl looked incredibly smaller for the Brum Don that terrorized everyone else. It was amusing to see how pain made anyone kneel to its extremities. "I thought your pride would still forbid you to scream. Make it louder for me, yeah? It sounds better." 

          "What do you want, Lantsov?" Jarl spat as if the name were some poison that stung his mouth. “Or should I say Opjer?”

          Nikolai’s jaw ticked in annoyance. He knows too much. "Not 'Consigliere' anymore? I feel sad about that, sir." He bent down and reached for the man's arm, bringing his hand close to him. He opened the lid of his lighter and put one of the Don's fingers in between the edge of the lid and the case. "I'll be brief, which I rarely do as I prefer talking more." He paused. "Call off your men."

          Jarl let out a laugh. "Too late for that, Nikolai. But I can almost assume that they're already leaving now that the threat was handled in the—" 

          Nikolai forced the lid of his lighter close, and the Don screamed in pain. The tip of his finger was set in an odd angle, with blood leaking from the damaged nail. It dripped onto Nikolai’s hand and his wrist, and then to the cuff of his sleeve. He inwardly winced in displeasure. It could be taken care of later. 

          He kept his expression impassive and moved to another finger. "Call off your men," he repeated. 

          Jarl’s face was twisted in cold rage, but there was no denying the agony he was under that he was still trying to put up with. When he didn’t answer, Nikolai closed the lighter onto the man’s next finger. Another howl of agony. He moved to another finger. 

          “Eight remaining fingers, eight remaining chances,” he said. “I will say it again. Call off your men, Jarl. I’m still being generous with giving you chances.”

          The man only smirked, and just as Nikolai was about to break off another finger, a loud thump resounded somewhere behind him. He glanced over his shoulder. The doors to Jarl’s office were rattling, almost threatening to come off its hinges. The Don's men had a good way of knocking.

          "As I've said," Jarl wheezed, making Nikolai turn back to him, "too late to do that." 

          Nikolai tsked. "Very well," he said, and then clamped the lid to the man's third finger. He let go of his arm, and Jarl crumpled down to the ground. "A reward for being able to sneak past me." 

          His men were still trying to barge the doors down, but they were almost succeeding in doing so when Nikolai caught a glimpse of the light outside the hall through the small space by the door that was beginning to grow wider. He turned back to the Don. 

          "Let's make you a bit more presentable, shall we?" said Nikolai. 

          He grabbed the man by the collar and forced him to stand before dragging him to the chair. Jarl wheezed in pain as he tried to fight back, but both of his hands were so badly damaged he couldn't make use of them. The Don could only give Nikolai as much as a glare. 

          He forced the man back down to the chair. "No need to look so angry, sir." 

          "You won't get out of here alive, Lantsov," growled Jarl. "You are totally outnumbered. My men would—" 

          "Ah" —Nikolai patted the man on the cheek— "let's not get ahead of our predictions. Let me borrow this for a second." He swiftly pulled out the knife from Jarl’s shoulder. "I'll be right back." 

          "You and Nazyalensky are goners, Consigliere. Both of you are not going to make it through the night." 

          "We'll see about that." 

          Nikolai eyed the still rattling doors, and glanced at the bloodied knife in his hand. He would be at a total disadvantage, he knew, but it was better than having nothing. Besides, he'd had far much worse situations that he got out of, some that involved using bare hands and teeth just to survive. 

          Tonight wasn't any different either. 

          He approached the doors just as there was finally the sound of a wood splintering, and he pressed himself against the wall beside the entryway. With a twist of his knife in his hand, he reached up to remove the tie around his neck with his other, letting the ends fall loose onto his shirt. It would only be a hindrance to his movements. 

          The doors barged open and men in gray overcoats came rushing in. Nikolai tightened his grip around the knife and counted heads. Seven. Jarl should have invited more.

          The man nearest to him hadn't noticed him yet, and he took his chance. 

          Nikolai stepped forward and pushed his knife behind the man's throat. 

          One. 

          He immediately pulled the knife out, letting it fly towards the other Soldier to his right. Blood spurted from the man's neck. He crumpled to the ground with a gurgling sound. 

          A sneer twitched on his lips. 

          Two. 

          He started humming. The remaining men finally turned to him with their guns raised, but Nikolai was already on the move. He collided with the third one. His hand closed around the gun barrel and the other to the man's hand, pointing the gun to the other Soldiers. 

          Nikolai pulled the trigger. It hit the other Soldier on the head. 

          Three. 

          He turned a bit to the left and fired twice on the fourth Soldier's chest. 

          Four. 

          Nikolai twisted, using the third Soldier as a shield just as the shots erupted. The body convulsed as it took the barrage of bullets. Then the shots stopped, and he pressed the barrel under the man's chin before pulling the trigger. 

          Five. 

          He grabbed the gun, aimed over the dead man's shoulder, and fired at the other Soldier. He immediately crumpled on the ground after the bullet went straight through his skull. 

          Six. 

          With a push, Nikolai finally let the body fall to the ground. He turned to find the last Soldier, but he wasn't fast enough.

          A shot rang out, and pain burst on his ear. He stopped humming and blinked. The remaining Soldier looked at him with a terrified expression, his hand trembling so badly as if he was out enduring the cold winter night. Then he dropped the gun completely and he fell to the ground. 

          Nikolai approached him slowly, like a predator cornering his prey. The Soldier started to back away. But the tremors quaking his body were too much that he couldn't even move fast enough. 

          A moment later, Nikolai was hovering above him, with the barrel of the gun pointed at his face, and he immediately raised a hand to protect himself. 

          "No—" 

          But Nikolai already pulled the trigger before the Soldier could even plead, and he crumpled to the ground on the pool of blood from the hole in his head. 

          Seven. 

          The room went silent again. Nikolai reached a hand up to his ear, feeling the sticky wetness around it along with the sting of pain. When he looked at his hand, his fingers were drenched in blood. He huffed. At least they were able to nick him. 

          He turned back to Jarl, who was still sitting idly on his office chair, the expression on his face was a mix of horror and bewilderment.

          "There'd be more of them in a few moments, right?" Nikolai asked mildly as he went and got his knife from the Soldier's neck. He wiped it at the edge of the Soldier's gray coat, staining it red. Then he put it back behind the lapel of his coat. “How many are there left?”

          At the Don’s silence, he scoffed. He walked back to Jarl by the desk, grabbing the man by his collar and forcing him up to his remaining good foot. It’d have to do. An audience was still an audience no matter how few they were, and he wanted Jarl to see every drop of blood shed by his men for everything they had done, and for every life they had ruined. 

          For hurting Zoya.

          Because in the end, he would rather let himself be the one to end all this rather than branding himself as a traitor for selling his own Family out and risking any chances of putting Zoya's life on the line even more. He could only hope Tamar would be able to reach her on time. 

          There was no turning back from this. 

          This tyranny had to end tonight, as it would only continue until the point of time where no one could stop them. 

          It was time to be the monster that he had been once more. 

          Nikolai dragged Jarl outside the doors of the office. “Let the hunting party start, then.”

---

Zoya struggled against the restraints bounding her hands behind her. But then pain shot up to her side from where a bullet had grazed her during the shootout earlier. She grit her teeth, glaring at the man in front of her. She would definitely break his neck the moment she got free. 

          The storage room where they had been holding her was guarded with three other men in gray overcoats. They looked stiff and alert, their guns poised readily to aim at her the moment she tried to do something funny. Zoya wanted to laugh. She understood the hostility around her, especially when there's only several of them left in the warehouse. 

          It was supposed to be much lesser than Zoya had expected—the arms warehouse should have been empty except for a few guards on patrol and a Brum Soldier staying in the upstairs office. 

          But instead of that, Zoya had walked straight up into a trap instead, with the number of Jarl’s men tripling and they were being led by Ivor Kravchenko, the notorious Brum caporegime known for his brutal tendencies when it came to taking down his enemies. 

          She had come to think that there might have been a leak of their own plans to orchestrate the simultaneous attacks against the Brums. They had been able to reduce a great number from Jarl’s men, but it cost all the lives of Zoya's men that were with her during the attack. Their blood would forever be on her hands. 

          The other thing she could hope for now was that Nikolai and the twins were alright on their sides of this predicament. 

          “You shouldn’t have left your Don’s compound,” she said. It was taking a lot of her remaining strength to speak. "You all left your boss' to the wolf's mercy." 

          The man, whom Zoya remembered as Ivor and Jarl's notorious caporegime, gave a dark laugh. "A wolf, you say? It doesn't matter, a lone wolf is no match for a whole pack," said the caporegime. "Your Consigliere might even be dead by now. Just like the rest of your men here. Don't get too cheeky now." 

          Zoya's rage flared, the urge to make the man suffer stronger than before. "You seem to be forgetting that I killed half of your men alone," she said. "You better make sure I don't get out of these bounds because it will be your blood spilled on the ground next." 

          This seemed to annoy Ivor, making him step forward in haste with a murderous expression on his face. But then he stopped abruptly as if he had just remembered something, and he straightened back up. "I could kill you right now and be done with it, Nazyalensky," he said in a low voice. "But I still just choose not to. It's fun to see the great Lantsov Underboss tied down at the Brums mercy." 

          "Chose not to, or you're still waiting for your Don to give the order like a good puppy you are?" Zoya said back, savoring the look of new rage on the caporegime's face. She gave him a sharp smile. "It's been an hour since you called my Consigliere and tried to rattle him down. You haven't even heard from Jarl ever since then." 

          Ivor snarled, and then he was grabbing at Zoya's hair and pulling her head back, his knife suddenly pressed to her cheek. Zoya smirked triumphantly. It was so easy to derail him—the whole Brum Family if possible. They were all bombs that were ready to detonate at any time. 

          This would be fun when she finally had him under her mercy later. But having to reach that point seemed very difficult and almost next to impossible, especially when there were ropes bounding her hands. 

          An realization dawned in her head when her eyes trailed down the knife near her face. She just had to make the man drop it somehow. 

          "Do not test me, Nazyalensky," Ivor growled as he pressed the knife harder to her skin. Zoya felt a trickle of blood run down her face. He traced the blood with the knife point lightly before hovering it to her skin again. "I can be merciless at certain times." 

          As can I, Ivor. "Suits you, then," said Zoya simply. "I have the freedom to choose when to be merciless. Unlike you, who still has to wait for a go signal from his person before he can bite."

          With a growl, Ivor tugged at her hair harder. "Did you know what Jarl told me before I left to go handle the mess you will try to stage here?" he hissed. "He said that the Lantsov Consigliere and Underboss are the ones keeping their Family upright. If they were the ones to go first, they would all crumble, and he planned to do just that." Ivor smiled wickedly, the kind that spoke of a triumph gotten from a dirty play. "Starting with your Consigliere. I wonder how things would be if the Don suddenly decides to get rid of him."

          She clenched her fists behind her, her fury burning cold in her blood. Nikolai was a lot smarter than the others give him credit for. There was never a dire situation that he hadn't gone through before—he could always find a way out of anything.

          But their current standpoint only struck fear and doubt to Zoya. He was in their enemy's nest, the place where they had the absolute authority on everything. She had been reluctant for him to go alone, and yet he had insisted, saying that he had a plan just in case something went wrong. 

          And now that there had been a hole in their planned attack, Zoya could only hope that his plan didn't involve him risking his life more than he already did. 

          She would come and drag him out of hell if needed to. 

          "I'm pretty sure your Consigliere would run out of ideas at some point," added Ivor thoughtfully. "Tonight might be the time."

          You can all dream. 

          Zoya gave a short laugh, and then she tipped her head back and struck Ivor's nose with her forehead. 

          The man shouted as he pushed back from her, dropping his knife and putting a hand up to his face. She quickly took the advantage and tipped the chair down sideways. Pain shot up to her side when she hit the floor, and her vision blacked out for a few moments. The blow to her head earlier only added to the dizziness that made her vision spin. But she shook the ache away and her hands felt around for the knife from the floor as the three men were still occupied with coddling their boss. 

          When she finally grasped the knife handle, she immediately tucked it to the insides of her sleeve before looking back up to Ivor. 

          Blood seeped through his fingers that were tightly holding his now broken nose, and his face was scrunched up in pain. Zoya felt a laugh bubble from her chest. 

          "Can't even take a hit, eh?" she called to Ivor, who only glared at her with a murderous glint in his eyes. "Come and train with our men, you'll learn how to brush off a punch to your jaw like it's merely dust." 

          Ivor let out an angry growl and started to walk his way to her again, but one of his Soldiers stopped him. 

          "There aren't any orders for us to kill her yet, sir," the Soldier said with finality. He looked a bit younger than the other men, but he  had a sway on them that even Ivor stopped to consider his actions. "We should be patient." 

          Zoya huffed silently. Another well-trained pup, then. 

          The door to the room suddenly opened, and another one of Jarl’s men appeared by the threshold. "Sir," he said, gesturing outside, "it's urgent." 

          Ivor sighed in frustration. He gave Zoya another pointed look before turning to one of his men again. "Get her up and keep a close eye on her," he said stiffly, still holding a hand to his nose. "I might finally be allowed to kill her after." 

          With one last low gaze to Zoya, he stomped off the storage room. She huffed in amusement as she watched the Caporegime's retreating form disappear by the doorway. 

          "Petty ass," she muttered. But when Ivor's footsteps finally receded, she slid out the knife from her sleeve and started to cut through the ropes.

          It was the younger Soldier that moved to lift her chair upright, his movements brusque and rough it made the pain on Zoya's side shoot up again.  

          "Easy with the moving, will you?" she hissed at the Soldier. 

          He sneered at her, pushing the chair roughly back down to its feet instead. "Witch," he hissed back, and Zoya had to laugh. The Soldier pointed the gun under her chin. "The only thing keeping me from firing is that the Don didn't want you dead just yet, and we're just waiting for the go signal." He pressed the barrel to her chin harder for emphasis. "Don't get too smug." 

          Men and their egos. "Sure thing, hon," said Zoya mildly with a shrug. 

          It seemed to be enough for the Soldier as he put down the gun and started to back off. But then ropes finally cut loose, and a smirk twitched at her lips. She kept her arms behind her and flipped the knife in her hand so that it pointed forward. 

          "Lapdog," she muttered, making sure the Soldier heard her. 

          And he did, because he suddenly stopped walking and turned to her again, a look of rage evident on his face. His jaw was set when he reached her again in a few quick strides. 

          He bent down and grabbed at her face. "What did you say, you—" 

          His next words came out in a gurgling mess when Zoya's hand shot up and pushed the knife into the man's throat. 

          She reached for the man's gun with her other hand just as the two other men noticed what was happening. She aimed and fired at the two of them before they could even raise their guns to shoot, and they crumpled to the ground with a thud. 

          The Soldier clawed at his neck desperately, his movements panicked. Zoya looked at him pitifully before yanking the knife out. The man fell to the ground. 

          She wiped her bloodied hand and knife to the squirming man's coat for a moment, staining the fabric blood red. His other hand still tried to reach for her ankle, but Zoya merely stepped away. 

          Then she pointed the gun to the Soldier's face. "For gunning down my men," she said before shooting him in the head. 

          He slumped to the ground, lifeless. Zoya winced at the sudden sting that pierced her side, and she almost doubled over. She checked her wound. The long line of the bullet graze was still oozing with blood, but much lesser than before. She would have to put up with it for now; she needed to have a talk with Ivor first. 

          Rushed footsteps echoed outside just as she neared the door. She immediately pressed herself against the wall beside the doorway and waited. A few moments later, the door barged open, and Ivor and another man came rushing in. 

          They hadn't noticed her yet, and Zoya sprang. 

          She raised her gun and shot the Soldier in the head. Ivor turned just as she aimed the gun to his thigh and pulled the trigger. He reared back with a shout, and Zoya swiped the gun up and whacked him across the face with the stock. Ivor crashed to the floor. 

          But when she finally got a closer look at the man's face, she realized it wasn't Ivor at all. The Soldier was only wearing the Caporegime's coat. 

          Zoya gritted her teeth as she pointed her gun to the man. "Where's Ivor?" she hissed. 

          He didn’t answer, and it made her anger flare even more. She put her finger closer to the trigger. 

          "Where—" 

          A crack of gunshot, and then a flash of excruciating pain on her other side just below her ribs. Zoya backed a few steps, dropping her gun and putting a hand to her side. When she checked on it after a moment, her palm was already covered in red. 

          "Miss me?" Ivor called out from the door. 

          Zoya didn’t have the strength to turn completely, and she crashed to the floor. The surroundings blurred into a mess of colors, the sudden flash of lights adding to the swaying of her vision. She put a hand to her wound, and she stifled a groan when another wave pain shot up to her body. 

          Ivor's figure appeared in her line of vision, his steps slow and deliberate as if he had all the time in the world. Zoya could only do as much as glare at the Caporegime, at the broken nose that had the faint traces of dried blood around it, and hoped for the Saints to give her enough strength to kill the guy right then. But her wishes were ignored and the pain only became worse. 

          "You think you could get out of my watch that easily?" He shook his head in disappointment. "I thought you were better than this."

          "Come closer and I'll show you," Zoya snarled. 

          "A real tough one, aren't you? Even as you lay dying, you can still make someone cower in fear." Ivor laughed loudly, and it was like the sound of a chair being scraped off a tiled floor. "I had to admit I was impressed on how you got that knife. That was neat."

          Zoya blinked. He had known? 

          As if he had heard her thoughts, Ivor chuckled darkly. "Oh, I did notice. That's why I staged a little dress up with one of my Soldiers here after the phone call. Always did the trick." 

          "Staged?" Zoya laughed, but it came out as a wheeze instead. "Did you really just use your men as bait just to kill me dramatically?" 

          "Ten points for Nazyalensky!" Ivor announced before raising his gun and pointing it at the Soldier he had made to wear his coat. "We're busted, unfortunately. Thank you for your service." Then he pulled the trigger. 

          Zoya winced at the sound of the dead body falling to the ground. She shook her head. "You're mad, Kravchenko." 

          "That, I am. But you know who's worse?" He bent down a little as if to tell some secret. Then he pointed two fingers at her. "You two." He paused to laugh again, and then he started pacing back and forth. 

          She took the small distraction to pull the handgun closer to her and hide it under her back. And when he stopped and stared back down at her, she noticed something strange. There was a wild look in his eyes, the deranged kind of glint of a paranoid man. 

          Ivor waved his gun carelessly in the air. "Oh, don't worry I finally have the order to kill you." 

          Zoya turned to her bad side slightly, bearing the pain that washed over her again and reaching for the gun she had hidden behind her. 

          "Worry not, Nazyalensky. You're going to meet your Consigliere soon," said Ivor. "The Don never planned to let your Consigliere get out of there alive, you know. The chance was too good to let it pass. He was a dead man the moment the Don accepted the meeting." 

          She knew Ivor was trying to get to her head, and she knew better that she shouldn't let it, but it was proving to be difficult when it was Nikolai’s safety being used against her. It was then she remembered this was what Ivor was known for—tormenting his enemies rights before he killed them. But Zoya knew to herself that she would have preferred physical torment than this. She wouldn't even have the chance to know if Nikolai was safe from any danger. 

          A bittersweet laugh bubbled from her chest. Even in near death circumstances, Nikolai was still her headache. She could only hope he would be able to get through tonight.

          Zoya gripped the gun tightly. She wouldn't this man torment her until her last breath. Not without bringing him down with me. 

          Ivor was seething when he was checking his gun chamber. Something was definitely wrong with him. Had something come up after that phone call? 

          "This is a payback to your Consigliere for acting stupidly. And for what he's done," he said and he shook his head, fury and annoyance evident on his face. "He's so going to pay for that. I can't wait to kill him myself—" He stopped abruptly and turned back to Zoya. "You'll meet him soon, Nazyalensky. Don't worry, I'll make it—" 

          With what's left of her strength, Zoya lifted her arm and fired at the Caporegime, emptying the whole gun's whole clip at him. Ivor convulsed with every bullet he took, his eyes wide in shock as if he couldn't believe what had just happened. 

          When the gun only gave a click, Zoya let her arm fall. A triumphant smirk twitched at her lips as she watched Ivor's bewildered expression. His hand fell limp at his side, and he looked down at the holes on his chest. 

          A scoff tore from his throat, and along with it came blood that leaked from his lips. His expression turned from shocked to angry in a blink. With a shaking hand, he pointed his gun back at her. "You witch—" 

          There was a crack of gunshot. Zoya closed her eyes and waited for the momentary pain before the end. 

          But it didn't come. 

          There was a loud thud, like the sound of a body falling to the floor, and she opened her eyes again. 

          Ivor lay on the floor, lifeless, his wide, empty eyes still open. Blood started to pool around his body all too quickly.

          "Zoya," a familiar voice said. 

          Through her blurry vision, Zoya could make out a figure of a woman approaching her in rush. Tamar. 

          She immediately held out her hand, and felt Tamar take it right away. The woman's other hand came to put pressure on her wound. "You're okay," Zoya said. Her breaths were starting to come out in short bursts. "Is Tolya—" 

          "He's fine, General, you should think of yourself first. Save your breath. You'll be fine." Tamar let go of her hand to pull out her phone. She dialled a number and started speaking to someone, but the words faded into echoes of distorted sounds. 

          A moment later Zoya heard Tamar's voice again. "Stay with me, Nazyalensky." She clasped at her hand, gripping it tightly as if it would give Zoya enough life again if she held on tighter. 

          Nikolai, Zoya wanted to ask her. Is he safe? 

          But the pain and exhaustion were too overwhelming for her to stay awake, and she found her grip on Tamar's hand loosening with every ragged breath she drew. 

        Have I done enough? 

        She didn't know. 

        Be safe, idiot. 

        She took another breath. 

        Then everything went dark. 

***

Zoya opened her eyes. 

        Immediately, a dull throb washed over her body that almost made her pass out again, but the gentle touches she felt on her hand kept her anchored down to consciousness. She drew in a shaky breath. 

        She was still alive. She has survived the ordeal. Tamar and Tolya were safe too and—

        Nikolai. 

        Where was he? Was he alive? 

        Zoya turned to her right in haste, but she stopped when she spotted a mess of blond hair on her bedside. The grip on her hand tightened, and she felt her eyes sting. 

        He's okay. 

        "Hey," she said, voice still rough from sleep. 

        Nikolai instantly bolted upright. He looked like a mess, with his hair ruffled and the bruises and cuts on his face. There were traces of dried blood on the side of face down to his collar, his coat, and even on the edge of his sleeves. His hands were no different; the skin around his knuckles were torn open and red. But the worse one he got was his left ear—or what was left of it. He was tired and in pain, and yet he only had the look of utter relief and warmth in his eyes when he looked at her and smiled.

        There was an unexpected prick in her heart. Zoya wanted to reach out and hold him to her, to tell him that she was glad he was alive, but she couldn’t do anything of those as her body still felt heavy like lead due to the exhaustion and medication. 

        A tear fell down from his eye, and Nikolai quickly wiped it away with a tired laugh. Then he shifted closer, his hand reaching out to smooth the hair away from her forehead. She closed her eyes and leaned against his touch almost immediately. 

        “You’re a mess, dear,” he said, his tone light with amusement. 

        Zoya huffed weakly. “You should see yourself.” She nodded at his state of dress. "It's not you to have your suit ruined like that." 

        “There’s always a first one, you know.” Nikolai gave her a wink. “Just not the thing I prefered. I can always throw it in the laundry, though.”

        “You, doing the laundry? I know you’ll break the washing machine first before you can get anything done,” she said, and Nikolai laughed lightly. A small smile appeared on her lips, and she laced their fingers together. What she expected to be a gentle touch was a trembling grip instead. His hand was badly shaking. Concern washed over her as she looked at him in worry. “Nikolai?”

        “I’m fine. I just—” Nikolai stopped. He laughed again, but it sounded more like a sob of relief instead. He shook his head. “You scared the hell out of me,” he whispered. He still looked like he was about to break any moment, but it was gone in a blink and he put on his signature grin that brightened up his features. “But I guess I didn’t have to worry that much now, yeah?”

        Tears stung Zoya’s eyes again, and she smiled ruefully. I almost lost you too. But she covered it up with a smirk.  “They can’t get rid of me that easily.”

        "I know." 

        Silence fell around them. It was unusual for her to have a quiet as she was used to hearing all types of noises, whether it be the angry and rising tones during meetings or the gunfire that followed after when the negotiations went wrong. Even at nights, which was supposed to be when everything was in peace, were still haunted by the voices of the people who had died under her jurisdiction, and their blood was on her hands. 

        Having this moment struck dread to her, because good things, even the smallest ones, always came with a price. And she wasn't entirely sure if she was willing to give up anything. 

        "Do tell me your thoughts, dearest Zoya," Nikolai said, breaking the silence. He smiled as he continued his ministrations on her hair. "When you're quiet like that, I'm worried that you might be planning someone's death." 

        Zoya huffed. "How can you be sure that it wasn't your death I was planning?"

        Nikolai chuckled. "Please, you can't plan something that's already done," he said in amusement, and then his face fell after a second as if he realized what he just said. He smiled but it was half-hearted than his usual ones. "I like being one step ahead, you know." 

        "What happened, Nikolai?" she asked softly, not wanting to risk him shying away. Her hand tightened its hold on his. "What did you do?" 

        "I did what I had to do," he said simply. There was a faraway look in his eyes as he stared down at their joined hands. He rubbed circles around her skin, his touch feather light. "There was no other way."

        "Did you—" Zoya stopped. She didn't want to say it. She wanted to believe that if she didn't, it could change the truth. But the defeated look in his eyes only solidified the truth. 

        “Jarl Brum is dead," Nikolai said. A sad smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, and he looked back up at her. “He died when his compound had caught on fire due to faulty gas pipes. And the Lantsov Consigliere died with him in the fire. It’s what the people would hear by morning.” He paused, and breathed in deep. Then he smiled his usual grin again. “He put up quite a fight, though. It ruined my suit doing it. What a sad mess.”

        Zoya could only stare at him in melancholy. She didn’t even have the heart to answer his joke back. That was their last resort. They both agreed that if things had turned out the worst, he would have to settle with killing the Don. But that was before, when they thought that their plans were foolproof.

        I should have known and done better.

        Nikolai must have seen the look on her face, because he shook his head gently and his grin turned into a rueful one. “I know what you’re thinking. Don’t do that to yourself. I don't regret doing anything,” he said. He took her hand in both of his. “He was going to force me to hand over the Lantsovs to them, saying he’ll have you killed if I don’t. It was a deadend. There was no guarantee they won’t hurt you even if I agree. And I was never going to sell us over, anyway.” He paused, drawing in a shaky breath. "I'd rather get hurt a thousand times more than lose you." 

        A tear finally fell from the side of her eye. If this was the price she had to pay for having this moment with him, she did not want it. She would give up anything else to pay the price. Just not this. Not him. 

        “So, I guess this is our last night together,” Zoya said, her voice breaking slightly. 

        His hand reached up to her face and wiped the tear with his thumb. There were also tears clouding his eyes. He nodded gently, the sad smile still on his lips. Zoya leaned in his hand. “Don’t worry,” he said, “I promise to annoy you to death so you would have enough spite for me to last in a long while.”

        Zoya huffed in amusement. She had never hated him so much than she did now. How could he make it sound so easy when he was going to leave? “I already have enough spite to last for the rest of my life.”

        Nikolai laughed back. “That’s good to hear.” 

        Another short silence filled the air, and Zoya looked him over. If it was the last time she would see him, she wanted to bask in the warmth radiating in his eyes and remember all the quirks he had, as if she hadn’t memorized everything about him before. 

        She lifted her hand slightly, and Nikolai went to hold it back in his. He turned his attention to her forearm, tracing the dark lines of the tattooed dragon on her skin. It felt like he was doing the same, memorizing a distinct feature of her that he would carry with him.

        “I’ve always thought this one’s cooler than my wolf one,” he said softly, running his fingers on her skin. “You always get cooler ones than me.”

        “Where would you go?” Zoya asked instead.

        Nikolai stopped his ministrations, his fingers coming back to lace with hers. “It would be better if no one knew,” he replied solemnly. “Besides, I wouldn’t stay in one place for long.” 

        Zoya took a deep breath. This was their reality, and she should know better than lament over it. She wasn’t the type to let emotions take over her. But for Nikolai Lantsov, she would always be willing to make an exception.

        “Maybe I can mail something from time to time,” he said. “Postcards and pictures, how do you feel about that?”

        “Are you trying to make me feel better?” 

        Her Consigliere chuckled lightly. “No, I am entirely serious.” He shrugged. “Mail is the safest thing to get something across without the risk of being traced.”

        Zoya shook her head with a light laugh. I’d take anything. “Whatever you say, corn salad,” she said, and Nikolai laughed. A wave of dizziness suddenly washed over through her. The medicine must be taking its effects now. No, not yet. A few more minutes. “When do you leave?” 

        A beat, and then Nikolai said, “Soon.” An amused smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “You don’t have to be so excited.”

        “Idiot,” she mumbled. There was a twinge in her chest with the nickname she had of him, knowing that it would be the last time she could tell it to him in person. 

        Nikolai tightened his hold on her hand, and she felt it trembling again. His eyes were bright with tears when he said, “I’ll miss that nickname.” I’ll miss you, was what never said aloud, but Zoya heard it all the same.  

        I’ll miss you too. Zoya gave him a small smile. “Just look at the engraving in your lighter, it will remind you.” Another wave of dizziness hit her, and she found her eyes drooping slightly. 

        Zoya heard him laugh softly, making her blink to shake the drowsiness away. Nikolai reached up to brush at the hair on her forehead again. 

        “Go get some more rest,” he said. His hand came down to her cheek, and he gently caressed her skin with his thumb. “Don’t fight it, I know you’re still tired.”

        "I'm not tired," she grumbled back. 

        "Whatever you say, dear."

        Her eyes were starting to feel too heavy for her to stay awake, but she still fought the drowsiness from taking over so she could still see him for a little more time. 

        "Go rest," he said again. 

        Zoya squeezed his hand. She was never the first one to ask. To their world, everything was a trade—you give and take. A request meant a desperate wish, and you should always be willing to pay the price. 

        But she had already paid for it, and it was only fair if she wished for one final request. Be it a selfish, impossible kind. 

        "Stay?" she asked. Even just for a moment longer. "You've always made a good bodyguard." 

        Nikolai smiled softly. I can't, was what his eyes said, and yet, aloud, he still said, "Of course." He tucked the blankets higher to her shoulders, his movements gentle and careful. "Now go back to sleep. I'll be here."

        They both knew it was a lie. 

        Zoya closed her eyes, knowing she couldn't bear seeing him leave, and she'd rather have him do it while she was asleep. 

        Then he started humming. His shitty, off-tune humming. Her shoulders shook as her body racked with silent sobs, her eyebrows drawn tight together to keep her tears from falling. But they still did, anyway. 

        She felt him press his lips to her knuckles, and small droplets fall against her skin. She didn't even have to open her eyes to know that it was his tears. 

        "Good night, Nikolai," Zoya whispered in a shaky tone. Farewell. Be safe. 

        A short, heavy silence, and she heard him draw a ragged breath. "Good night, Zoya." Goodbye, Zoya. 

        His voice and the feel of his hand tight in hers were the last things she knew before sleep took over her. 

        And when Zoya finally slept, she dreamed that she would never have to let him go. 

***

News about the death of the Brum Don because of the fire that caught his compound was heard early on the next morning. Television news, radio, newspapers, and even the social media boomed with the word, and it spread like wildfire. 

        It went even bigger when the Lantsov Consigliere was also reported to have died along the fire, with all the current evidence proving that the fire had been intentional. But none of them pointed to Nikolai. The investigation was still open, and it will probably go on for quite a while. The only thing that lightened the burden on Zoya’s chest was knowing that he was alive. He had known how things would go beforehand, and made sure that none of them ended up implicating the Lantsovs.

        Always the well-prepared one.

        The chair where Nikolai had sat last night was empty, as if he wasn’t there at all. The only traces left of him was the lingering scent of his perfume and the dip on her bedside where he had laid his arms on as he watched her with all the warmth in his eyes, the same warmth he took with him when he left.

        Zoya felt her eyes sting with unwanted tears again as she looked out the window, but this time she didn’t try to keep them from falling. She smiled ruefully, a bittersweet feeling left in her heart. It was probably bad fate that had them cross paths, and it was also what separated them. But either way, it was still what had brought them together. She was thankful for that somehow, even if they only had limited time.

        But then it struck her, that it didn’t always have to be fate that should handle things. She was the Lantsov Underboss, the one who drove the saintsforsaken Family out of the mud with the Consigliere. If there was something they were good at, it was handling things their own way and bending the odds to their will.

        A near death experience had her questioning herself if she had done enough. She didn’t know the answer by then, but she did now.

        I am not done yet.

        She wouldn’t give up on Nikolai that easily. Even if it took her years to do it. She would bring him back. 

        Because she knew he would do the same for her. 

        I’ll see you again, Nikolai, she vowed. And it wouldn’t be the last. 

        Zoya would make sure of it.

***

A/N: if you’ve reached this far, please know i appreciate you ;-;

[self-proclaimed-chaotic-good]

Crush | Brad Davis x Filipina!Reader (Oneshot)

Prompt: Summer Vacation

Fandom: Spider-man (MCU)

Words: 2285

A/N: Look, I just like Remy Hii, alright? Anyways, I’ve had a draft of this for a while now, but I didn’t have the motivation until now to finish it. Reader is Ned’s younger sister, but was not affected by the snap/blip, so they’re in the same grade now.

-

Everything was different when the Blip happened, the event that caused half of the planet’s population, including your older brother, to disappear. Everyone that survived were forced to keep going without them, not knowing whether or not they’d ever come back. You entered Midtown without your brother to guide you in high school life, having birthdays without some of your friends and your brother to embarrass you in karaoke. Then suddenly, during a pep rally, everyone came back.

To accommodate those that had disappeared during the Blip, school had to start again, which meant that you were now in the same grade as your brother. He was surprised to see how much you’ve matured and became even more protective as before when he saw one or two classmates so much as look at you a certain way.

On the way to the airport, Ned was nagging at you to stick to his side and triple check that you had packed everything. You rolled your eyes and knew that while you had missed him during the five year Blip, you also knew that it was a matter of time before you would get tired of it again.

“Ay sus, kuya,” you groaned as Ned shifted his rant to your classmates that had survived the Blip with you and were suddenly an upperclassman like him.

As the two of you neared the group at the airport, you spotted Peter and gave him a pleading look to stop your brother. He looked a bit distracted but gave you a sympathetic smile. You slipped away from your brother as he turned to Peter, talking with the teachers before going through the usual international travelling process.

After going through the TSA, you met up with your classmates and discussed the locations that the class will be going to. You excitedly added that you managed to save enough money to get a film camera.

“What kind?” you heard a voice that made your heart skip.

You look up to see Brad Davis smiling at you. Your cheeks heat up. “What?”

“What kind of film camera?” Brad repeated.

“Oh, um, Olympus. OM-ten.”

He nodded in approval. “I love those. Very easy to use. Can I see?”

You blinked. You looked over at the teachers, then at the clock. There was still some time until the group had to head to the terminal. “Oh, yeah, sure. Lemme just…” You shifted your backpack around so you could pull your camera out.

His smile widened as he reached out for it. “In good condition, too,” he said, flipping it around to pop the lens cover off.

Your hand twitched as the cover hung from the string that was tied to the camera, swinging as Brad looked through the viewfinder and adjusting the focus. Just because you have had a crush on him since middle school, doesn’t mean he’s safe from your wrath if he breaks it. You didn’t even tell your parents that you bought it, as they would have told you to buy the cheaper digital cameras or borrow Ned’s camera.

Just as you reached out to grab the camera back, Brad turned around, winding the film and shot a picture of Michelle as she walked by. She paused and frowned.

“Did you just take a picture of me?” she asked.

“Well, yeah-”

“Ask for my permission next time. Don’t be one of those male photographers that take pictures of people through a hidden camera and make profit out of them. That’s all kinds of bad,” she said, grabbing the camera from him and handing it back to you. “What was that podcast you were talking about again?”

“Serial Killers by the Parcast Network?” you said.

She smiled. “Yeah, I think I’m gonna listen to that for the rest of the flight.”

“Sorry about that!” Brad called after her, before turning to you. “You listen to podcasts about serial killers?”

You shrugged, forcing yourself to walk away and find your brother. Of course, he liked Michelle. You almost forgot about that.

-

“Doesn’t it, you know, upset you seeing them like that?” Peter asked as you sat next to him in the plane.

He jerked his head towards the other aisle where Michelle and Brad were sitting together watching a movie. There was a twinge of jealousy and as soon as you found out they were sitting together, you hoped that she would just immerse herself in the Serial Killers podcast instead of interacting with him. You couldn’t be mad at her, though. Michelle was cool and she had always been friendly with you. You also knew that Peter had a crush on her, too.

“Why would it upset me?” you asked, feigning indifference.

Peter gave you a knowing look. “Because I see how you look at him-”

“Yeah, the same way you look at Michelle, right?” you countered.

“She’s got you there,” Ned piped up.

He groaned, hitting the back of his head on his seat. “I just… I had plans and now it might not even work out. When the hell did Brad Davis become like… like that.”

You shook your head. “You guys were gone for five years, Pete. A lot can change in five years.”

 “And you still liked him all this time. Why?”

You looked down at your lap where you had kept one of the snacks handed out by the flight attendant. You picked up and started to play with it. Why did you still like Brad Davis? You always thought he was cute, but there were a lot of classmates that you thought were cute. That doesn’t mean you had a crush on all of them. He was smart and funny and he had the same interests as you. That's still not enough of a reason. You had many friends that fit those characteristics.

Then you remembered how he would always be paired with you in labs, how happy he would be because, according to him, being paired together would guarantee an easy A. Whenever you were studying alone at the library, he would pass by and drop a spam musubi that he always bought off of one of your classmates next to your textbook. Sometimes, he would join you at the table and study in silence together. He knew you were an introvert and he always made sure that you felt included while also making sure you were comfortable. It may sound so simple, but in a society where people tailor to extroverts and push introverts to become extroverts, it meant a lot to you.

“It’s not a big deal,” you said with a shrug, “I’m sure I’ll get over it during the trip. Not like we’ll be hanging around together anyways.”

Ned snorted. You smacked his arm hard, making him whine. Peter sighed, glancing back at Brad and Michelle, an idea forming in his mind.

“Ned, make it so I have to switch seats with Brad,” Peter said to your brother.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.”

“What about our plan? American bachelors in Europe.” You raised an eyebrow at this and snorted. Ned smacked your arm.

“That's your plan! That's a solo plan. Come on, this is my plan.”

Peter pleaded desperately to him. Ned rolled his eyes and sighed, coming up with a story that Peter was having a perfume allergy so he could move seats. You looked between them, his plan clicking in your mind. You narrowed your eyes at Peter.

“It’s not going to work,” you said.

“It will!” Peter said, looking back at Ned who gave him a hopeless look. Peter’s face fell.

-

After the long flight and the journey to the cheap dingy hotel, you joined your brother and Peter in their room. You sat cross legged on Ned’s bed while eating your airplane snacks, eyes following Peter as he paced back and forth.

“Dude, just talk to her,” Ned said.

“Tell that to (Y/n) with Brad!” Peter said, waving a hand at you.

“Whoa, stop bringing me into this,” you said, throwing a cashew at him, hitting him on his forehead. You winced. “Tita May told me your Peter tingle wasn’t working.”

“Stop calling it Peter tingle, it’s not… anyways, I’ve got a plan,” he said, standing in front of you and Ned. “I like Michelle. You like Brad. Brad likes Michelle, and Michelle… might like Brad. What I propose is to work in separating them.”

You raised your hand. “Right, but that would require me taking the initiative and confronting him,” you said, “This is me we’re talking about.”

Ned also raised his hand. “That would also require me to approve of Brad Davis being in proximity of (Y/n).”

“You’re spending the day with Betty, so why would it matter to you?”

“Well, I’m a man now, ading, and I can’t always be there to protect you.”

You rolled your eyes at his ridiculousness. “I was fine for five years without you, remember?”

Ned sighed, shaking his head at you. He looked at Peter. “They grow up so fast.”

Peter growled in frustration. “Enough! We’re leaving for Saint Marco Polo’s Square soon. Just… (Y/n), please.”

“Okay, okay. I’ll see what I can do. Remember, this is me we’re talking about. Don’t expect much.”

-

You went around Saint Marco Polo’s Square with Michelle while Peter had gone to buy the Black Dahlia necklace for her. Brad had been trailing behind the two of you while you snapped pictures of Michelle every time she posed. She went to get food for the pigeons so she could take a picture with them. You checked the exposure on your camera finding the right focus to use. When you looked up, Brad was staring at you.

“What?” you asked, trying to look busy with your camera to avoid looking at him.

“I can take pictures of you, if you want,” he offered.

You hurriedly shook your head. “No. No, no. I’m… I prefer to be behind the camera. I’m not the type to be in front of it. I’m not suited for it.”

He frowned, opening his mouth to question your choice of words. Michelle bounded over with the bird feed and waited until they perched on her outstretched arms. You turned away from Brad to take her picture, shooting it as soon as she smiled widely.

“Okay, that’s enough picture taking for me today. Now, boh!” Michelle said, giving you a grateful pat on the head before heading off on her own.

Which meant that you were now alone with Brad. Until, of course, he decides to follow her. You cleared your throat, looking around the wide square for something to do. You couldn’t help but notice that Brad hadn’t left his spot since Michelle left. Slowly, you turned your head towards him just as he raised his own camera up.

“Can I take a picture of you, at least? Just one?” Brad asked, giving you a small smile.

Damn it. Your heart skipped a beat at how soft he looked. You lowered your camera, drawing out your answer as you looked at what the other students were doing. Some were vlogging, or taking pictures, or, like your brother, were getting their face drawn into a caricature or riding in a boat. You finally had alone time with him without any effort on your part and you honestly never thought you’d make it this far in the plan.

“What… what do I have to do?” you asked nervously, your cheeks heating up.

“You can just be casual, nothing too fancy. We can go get some ice cream and walk around, if that makes you comfortable.”

You nodded. “Okay.”

The two of you walked towards the shops, looking for an ice cream parlor, talking about cameras and the history of Venice. You didn’t know why you were always nervous at every beginning of your conversation with him, but you knew that over time, you were a lot more relaxed.

You were scooping the sides of your ice cream so it wouldn’t drip out of the cup when you heard a shutter. Your eyes widened as you looked over at Brad who was smiling with a camera in hand.

“Don’t worry, you look great,” he said, showing you your picture.

Your head was tilted, the corner of your lips turned up as you scooped your ice cream. You looked happy and content. It was honestly one of the few pictures of yourself that you were fine with.

“It’s… not bad,” you relented.

“You can take all the pictures you want of me, if you want,” he said, striking a heroic pose next to one of the bridges.

You laughed, quickly adjusting the exposure and focus of your camera with one hand before winding the film. He flashed a smile as you looked through the viewfinder. You were about to take the picture, when you saw the water churning behind him. You quickly grabbed his arm and pulled him away from the canal as the water came crashing down.

Your brother, Betty, and Michelle, ran over. “Run!” Ned shouted, grabbing you and pushing you in front of him to start moving. Once you joined the other students and the teachers at a safe distance from the canal, all of you took a moment to catch your breath.

“Well, that was an exciting first date,” Brad joked.

You huffed out a laugh, not missing the dangerous look that Ned shot at him. At the sound of a loud crashing, you all looked up to see the water creature smashing a bell tower, a figure swinging around to save it while a costumed man shot green energy beams at the creature.

You sighed. So much for a relaxing vacation.

[soranihimawari]

West Coast kind of Love

 Summary: There were certain things you know off the top of your head. One, the fact that popcorn and M&Ms should not be sold separately at the local movies is a crime; two, every other Monday of the month, the neighborhood film club would host dollar monster movies (where one of your neighbors in your apartment complex would frequently attend); and three, you might have to pinch yourself when he asks you to take a photo with you as a proof of “how things are going abroad” to his friend in Argentina...

Word count: 4.685K

Taglist: @m0nstergeneration20xx 📷 (google docs proof reader), @oitoorus​, @tkags & her ⛅ (anon fam) , @oikawalovely [open still]

“Do what you love and the rest will follow”-proverb

--September XX--Thursday, 23:13 (11:23pm)

“Oh come on Yukihira,” you knocked on the closed bathroom door of your apartment.”You know I called dibs to the bathroom after we ditched those jerks at the dancehall.”

Every month you and your roommate took turns in choosing public places to go out for a night on the town. With midterms coming up for what would be the junior year of your undergrad studies, your roommate decided giving a double date a try. Unfortunately for her, those jerks were thinking of doing the deed way too early for either of your liking. You decide that spilling your peach Bellini on your friend’s outfit during the middle of the date was the perfect excuse to end the night early. More often than not, you mostly came along these dates with her as an enforcer. You two might be as different as night and day (yukihira studies medicine all hours of the day whereas your focus was the visual arts). Tonight was just one of those nights where you being there was beneficial.

“Ugh, fine,” she said opening the door revealing her freshly brushed grin. “I can’t believe you had the gall to ruin that outfit y/n.”

“Hey, whatever helps you throw it out like you did your ex then I was doing the Lord’s work for you, Yuks.” You rolled your eyes at her when she stuck out her tongue when you slithered into the ivory tiled washroom. This earned a laugh from the other member of your household.

“But because this was a bad date and I didn’t think things through this time again, that means I get to set you up on a blind date.” Her singsong voice reached your ears as you turned on the faucet to drown out her mocking tone. You paused for a brief moment while waiting for the make up remover serium to bubble up on your face before wiping it off effectively.

“With who?” you asked after you patted your skin dry post-makeup removal ritual complete. Your hair was undone from the hair elastic you pulled out of your inherited islander curls.

“I don’t know. Hmm...Maybe the guy in unit 23C? He’s awfully cute,” Yukihira mused as you leaned in her doorway. Her brows wiggled in delight when she noticed how you stared at your neighbor on move in day during your freshman move in day three years prior.

“Iwazumi? You can’t be serious,” you said. Your voice betrayed you because your eyes shined like the gods of furtune finally found their way to you.

“Do you want to or not? He’s focused, witty, determined; I have my physiology study group with him tomorrow. Why don’t you come with, best friend of mine?”

You really hated when she pulled the puppy eyes on you, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to refuse (not by a long shot).

“Ask him if he prefers coffee or tea.”

A few days later, you came home from your department’s masters class with your portfolio sling over your shoulder. Your hands were covered in literal ink stains from your latest mural macro-micro project.

“Hey, Yukihira! Have you seen where I kept my lacquer thinner?” You raise your voice slightly as you kick off your shoes by the entrance hallway. It was only then you realize there were a couple of other pairs of shoes that did not belong to either of you. That’s when you remembered your friend’s warning about her study group coming over. All color drained from your face when you rounded the corner to your living room area converted into a mini lecture hall. You clear your throat to announce your presence which went unnoticed (with the exception of your roommate). Without even looking at the board, you chose to mess with the med students’ practice case.

“And I’m telling you this is a bilateral cut to the optic nerve, Josefina.”

“The microabraisons on the left thoracic cavity allowed the victim to bleed out on the table due to the elevated use of blood thinners, ” your voice quiets the pre-med students and you smile in a nonchalant manner. You have read this problem with Yukihira so many times prior at the start of the semester that you were able to recall the prognosis off the top of you head. Being friends with a pre-med major does have its redeeming qualities although you were seen mostly honing your crafts in the art department and this was just the prime time of their study week. 

“Oh! You’re back early,” Yukihira says in a warm tone. She stands at the end of the table in between you Her eyes glazed over as if to communicate that you were about to be formally introduced. You bite your tongue prior to allowing your roommate to clap her hands together as she went naming every member starting with the person on her left who was the aforementioned Josefina. When she had come full circle, her voice trailed off with a small apologetic smile.

“Aaaand this here is my roommate, y/n. To answer your question about the lacquer thinner, I put the bottle on your desk when it arrived last time,” Yukihira made sure to watch everyone’s response. She was more interested in seeing how the third member of her study group (the aforementioned neighbor in 23C) would react. His minuscule smirk was doubly noted, prompting you to fill the few seconds of silence with your own voice. After a brief trip down memory lane, spear headed by your best friend as they took a break from studying for a moment, Yukihira explained after years of being friends you learned about the medical cases for exams via osmosis. You were an unofficial member of the study group since the medical arts building was located near the visual arts department offices on campus. You chose to not let them be pushed back any further especially since their content exam was coming up later that month, so you bid them good luck.

“Don’t mind me,” your brass tone conveyed an even temper at the time. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m just going to head to my room. You guys aren’t the only ones with an exam this week.” You raised your portfolio canister so they could see the poster sized dyed cylinder. Reams of paper filled with sketches made from ink and graphite poked through under the flourescent lights of the kitchen dining room table. The med students along with Yukihira waved and said it was lovely to meet your acquaintance.

With that you made a beeline route to your room, opened the door, and promptly shut the door. You dropped your portfolio canister next to your desk, turned up the volume of the lo-fi radio station playlist on your sound system, grabbed the nearest pillow and let out a muffled shriek to expel the remaining bits of embarrassment your friend threw you in. You were good at smaller group studies, but to be fair, given the fact that your friend was a social butterfly, you mostly seemed to rub off the “talented-artsy, yet focused,” type of woman. That night you cleaned up your outline for your stencil art piece of a fox and a hound for your take on minimalism class which had its peer critique at the end of the week.

You didn’t physically speak to Yukihira for the rest of the week. With both of you burning the midnight oil within the last few days before the exam, you noticed that the number of study group being held in your apartment had become the norm every other day (causing you focus more on a certain individual). Funny thing was he was also doing the same thing...

『from Yukihira: how many times do i have to apologize? You know I didn’t plan on having an emergency study session with iwazumi. He just showed up & wanted to chat. Besides the TA & professor chose to move up the exam date...』

『from y/n: you should of told me earlier before I came home. You know I forgive you... only if you buy me the latest ice cream along with the new Jun Ito novel. I’ll be out there in a minute till make some coffee for us.』

『from Yukihira: Mmkay & thanks. Coffee sounds good right about now anyways.』

--October XX-- Friday, 15:55 (3:55p.m.)

The weekend came through soon enough and on a Friday afternoon with no where to go, you were chilling at the comfort of your own living room. You were quick to thank the test gods for the exam being moved up once you had a proper conversation with Yukihira that morning. She mentioned she was going be out all day making sure she was able to finesse her study guide with her fellow medical study group. Since it was the end of the week, Josefina opted to have a free for all study day at the book store for those who wanted to go over last minute things according to the note yukihira left on your door that morning.

At the time of the day, you were expecting to be alone, curled up with your favorite cup of English Earl Grey Tea and a Lovecraft radio program you downloaded via the student Spotify network. Your phone vibrated and pinged with a notification from the bookstore where Yukihira placed the order for your horror novel to arrive sooner than the estimated timeframe. Because life finds it funny to pull another prank on your clown assery with your little cynical attitude, you were startled when the formal knocker was used.

“Shit!” you said when you clutched your heart as you placed your cup of tea down on the coffee table. As your put two fingers on your neck’s pulse point, you waited a few minutes for your heart rate to calm back down; you stood up and began to make your way down the hallway. Lo and behold, you were greeted by a casually dressed man who was clutching your new novel in his sunkissed hands. 

It takes your brain a few synapses to register that it was Iwazumi who has been taking a liking to coming over for extra study hours with your roommate, but if anyone asked him to reply honestly, he wanted to know more about you. The human body has more than 240 bones, yet the more frequent his visits become, the more he felt himself become accustomed to befriending you both. There were instances where you joined them at the kitchen table glancing at their open notebooks and case studies; you often made tea or coffee depending on the hour of the day. On the days you had come home from the art department, Yukihira was quick to notice how Iwazumi’s usually tense face seemed to visibly relax when you came to prepare your favorite snack (m&ms and buttered popcorn). Your friend was quick to relay a text to his phone, which caused her study partner at the table to become more flustered than he already was. 

Regardless of the various near misses over the next couple of weeks between you and Iwazumi (sometimes it was Yukihira’s fault other times, it was coincidental juxtopostional humour: it has happened twice on Iwazumi’s side when his friends back home noticed he was not at his usual place. [Yukihira called for a mini-study break] However, that didn’t stop you from asking him if he preferred sugar or honey for his tea & all hell broke loose (Hanamaki & Mattsun were cheering him on while Oikawa.exe has dropped the call).

All this back and forth for the past five weeks caused this moment to occur:

“I-Iwa-chan?” your voice went up several octaves before clearing your throat with a cough. “If you’re looking for Yukihira, she’s actually not here at the moment...” 

“To the scientist there is the joy in pursuing truth which nearly counteracts the depressing revelations of truth.”

The audio from your radio program was keeping you company. The disembodied voice coming from the main sound system you helped set up when you first moved into the building with Yukihira quoted Lovecraft as the program continued to serve in the role of filling the silence between you and Iwazumi. The gods really did that, didn’t they? your thoughts were running away with you again, chasing a reality that would be yours--or so you think. 

During that thought hurricane you conjured up, you decided to pause the train of thought for a few minutes. You released your hold on your front door knob as you pulled the door a little wider in order for you to lean against the frame of the front door. Your hair was pulled up in a messy bun (on your days off, you were typically clad in tapered mint green pants and a spare white button down blouse due to laundry day), but it was enough to see the usual semi-talkative and stoic demi-god of a neighbor wear such an embarrassed expression. You pretended to not hear the barely audible, “woah,” that escaped his mouth prior to him holding up the book to you. 

“Did the mail carrier drop it off to your box again?” you ask taking the book in your hands. ���Sorry about that. You can come in if you want.” 

You were quick to notice that something caught your arm in an attempt to stop you from walking. When you chose to not try to pry yourself away from Iwazumi’s hold, he took it as a sign to bend himself to your ear and say the following in a powerfully low tone: “Would you believe me if I said I wasn’t looking for her?” 

“Yes,” you say in a timid manner, yet it was paired with a curt nod. You both had the tenacity to swat away any lingering negative thoughts.

Iwazumi took this moment to turn you around to face him by the arm he held you with. His smile disappeared when he let your arm go and instead moved his hand to hold yours with his opposite hand, he pulled the door shut behind him. You were probably too proud to admit this aloud, nonetheless, you liked the way Iwazumi’s firm grip felt in your hand; his were rough and calloused as much as yours were from years of honing your independent crafts. You gave him a kind smile before your neighbor decided to take advantage of the fact that the other person in your apartment wasn’t home; you squeezed his hand slightly and he let your hand go. 

You placed the Jun Ito novel on the kitchen counter motioning for Iwazumi to meet you there. Your kettle was still warm, however you made a cheeky joke to your newly acquired friend. (Perhaps this was Yukihira’s plan, you think). You reached into the dishwasher and was about to pour him a cup of tea, yet you couldn’t help but make a small joke at his expense for holding your hand so intently. 

“For the record, if you wanted to hold my hand, you could have done so earlier,” you mention stifling a laugh, pouring the steaming water into the mug. Iwazumi mumbled something about how he liked the way your hand fit, yet you chose to throw caution to the wind and quickly planted short kiss on his cheek when you extended the cup toward him after placing the tea strainer in it. 

With one hand on yours and the other was wrapped around the ceramic mug,. Your kindness was always something Iwazumi found alluring. You might not have been in the same course of study as him or Yukinira, yet you were good finding the beauty in the mundane. A few of your pieces of work were hung around the apartment and from his line of sight, your dedication to your craft was something to be admired.With every sip he took a sip to deflect from the way his thoughts were heading into uncharted territories; OIkawa, Mattsun, and even Makki were the ones more verbose on love & conquest during the days of their you:

“You’re always over at your neighbors’ place, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa teased. 

“I wonder what his reason is,” Makki muses. “Mattsun thinks it’s a girl. Typical.”

Makki also noticed one of your sophomore symposium art pieces hanging behind the place where Iwazumi was sitting at the time of their weekly video call. Your avant-garde view of  viewing the world was enough to set the sky amethyst hues. California does have it’s moments of striking beauty and somehow Iwazumi found it hard to keep to a straight face around his friends. His expression was usually hardened or bold, but today you sat across from him at the beginning of the call, reading up on the use of gold leaf detail work for your art restoration classes. Across the myriad of scattered medical books and various notes that were pertaining to another medical case were a tell that their friend was clearly not alone. You glance up at him quietly, a minute smile formed between you two; you write on a spare piece of paper the word, “friends” to which he nodded. 

“Aww, is our little ace growing soft on us?” Oikawa’s whining was something you often heard Yukihira describe after nights like these.(She usually hung out in your room as you were placing the final touches of your latest art assignment. This month was dedicated to historic downtown with a twist of horror: modern mania & the ruiner of man. Right now, you didn’t mind the shared space of the dining room while Yukihira was out on a grocery run at the time the call was initiated.)

“Shut your mouth Shittykawa,” Iwazumi barks. His dark eyes hardened like stone and that was when Makki let out a wicked grin. 

“I owe Mattsun 500 yen,” Makki chuckled. 

“Holy shit,” Oikawa’s eyes bounced between his best friends and let out a low whistle. “if this woman is capable of such an amazing feat, ask her if she has a friend [for me].”

Iwazumi ended the call right then and there. He didn’t expect his heart to be beating so irratically when you walked room in your house attire for a moment to make yourself a cup of the same Earl Grey Tea. The hazy lights emitting from your room blended effortlessly with the flourescent ones in the kitchen; each beam clung to your body in such away Iwazumi was glad neither of his friends witnessed the moment he fell in love with California and all that came with it. 

This afternoon was a different story as you liked the way Iwazumi allowed his natural blush to bubble to the surface of his cheeks and you could swear you saw a fraction of the high school volleyball ace shine through. The sunlight danced around the stainless steel details of the kitchen where you shared secrets, recipes, and drinks with your best friend. His free hand chose to move away from the counter finding its resting place under your chin. The cup of tea Iwazumi held earlier was placed next to the stove on the coaster by the sink. 

You steady your breathing right before you felt Iwazumi’s breath on your cupid’s bow; his lips pressed against yours gingerly as though he felt his brain light up and catch a fire he needed to not run away from; everything he wanted to know about you was answered as soon as your hands cup his face. I think I like this, your conscience is egging you on to pursue his touch for a while longer. It was a silent acknowledgement of the other’s presence in the present moment. 

“Hm,” you hear him hum in mutual amusement when you return his kiss. The pads of his fingers trace the highest points of your face teasingly. He wanted answers to the questions your lips asked. When you two separate for a moment, you realize you might have been too forward, but when you move your hands away from his face only to hug him in a loose embrace, you couldn’t help the next words from posing a question.

“Do you want to kiss me again?” your coquettish tone made Iwazumi’s answer very apparent as you suddenly took into account the last couple of weeks and the way both of you came to enjoy each other’s company during study group hours at either your place as the primary location or the cafe down the road from the apartment complex. (Iwazumi’s frequent visits weren’t for tutoring necessarily, about a majority of the time it was to see you as an added bonus). 

Iwazumi did not have to be told twice; he enveloped you in his strong arms, he hoisted you up from under your knees and placed you a top the counter with gentle assertive force. Your legs wrapped around his fit waist as you gripped his biceps for leverage prior to letting the old ace prove his strength by placing you on top of the graphite counter like a doll. 

“Comfortable?” Iwazumi’s expression was more seductive than profound.

“Very,” you reply as you unwind your legs from his body. “Where were we?”

Your hands wrapped around his neck before pulling him close to you again. A smug smile cut across both of your faces for a brief moment until your lips hovered over his for the second time. This time, you let him kiss you the way you knew he had been meaning to since he showed up at your door less than fifteen minutes prior book in hand. When Iwazumi kissed you at the current moment, the world crumbled and fell away; it was somehow comforting in a way that words would not compare to. His actions listened to the way you were setting the pace with the same tenacity as he showed you. The scent of his sandalwood conditioner mixed well with your ocean scented dry shampoo. 

Your eyes were still closed when you felt your hands card through his ever-present spiky hair. His right hand rested below your ear, using the pad of his thumb and forefinger to caress your cheek and jawline again. You feel him smile against your own lips when you nipped the corner of his mouth playfully. You break apart long enough for your partner in the kitchen to began to sneakily undoing your top two buttons of your blouse to press his lips against your exposed skin. You let out a whimper in the heat of the moment the second his lips began to leave a trail of reverberating echoes in the simplest of ways securing his hold on your soul that very day.

“Beautiful girl,” Iwazumi murmurs as his eyes met yours when he was done having his fun. His voice was cautious, but when his arms began to hover over your own, you felt your heart rate speed up right as he told you this: “Tell me, what other sounds can you make for me?” 

“Is that a challenge?” you retort, your hands disappearing under his hoodie to feel the fabric of his undershirt. Your hand stopped roaming atop of his chest; he was liking this. You could tell by the way he was taunting you with his smirk. “Because I was wondering the same thing. Do you want me to remove my hand?”

“No.”

Your hands could have been made of branding tools and Iwazumi wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference. He chuckled at your question before you brought him down to your level and your lips met again. The sound he made upon impact was as though you broke him yet healed him at the same time; time was on your side for this one and you proved he wasn’t the only monster in the kitchen. There was a hunger there behind every kiss you let him have; you were smiling in the between long enough to feel his heart beat faster through the fabric of his undershirt.

Your hands automatically removed themselves from his shirt and were found holding on to the aglet of the drawstrings from the hoodie he was wearing. Iwazumi kissed your fingers before proceeding with posing a question to you.

“Just so we’re clear,” your voice was bold and daring. It was one of the many things he liked about you both in and out of campus grounds. The small details was what Iwazumi liked the most and the subtle tells of how you, Yukihira, and even the other members of the study group didn’t make him feel so alone like when he first arrived to California to study.

“Whatever this is between you and I, does it mean we’re...together?” 

You make a sign in the air with your palms up and point between you and him. Iwazumi clears his throat as he taps his lips to tease you and that was when he saw it: a younger version of you covered in sidewalk chalk in your neighborhood (much the same as you saw reflections of the former ace/vice captain).

“If you’ll let me take you to the Monster Movie marathon on Monday,” he answered when he linked his right hand digits with your left and you capture his lips again on your own volition. Your ears perked up at this, you drop the string you played with and patted his chest with a light rapt. 

“Eager to make me your girlfriend aren’t you?” You laugh and Iwazumi furrowed his brows, but you silence his worries in one swift and simple move: you kiss him with the intent of either being his salvation or his torment, either way Iwazumi was not complaining. The girl who loves to read about Lovecraftian monsters and the boy who was a monster chaser shared a love as unique as themselves: like a secret they each wanted to keep  behind closed doors.

His only vice was the fact that his social call was coming to an end and every ounce of his well being was fighting to stay here with you. You back down for a moment only to showcase your best attempt at a flattering smile to match his own. Iwazumi would never let you know this at the time, but seeing that smile on your face made his list of top three things he found most precious in the world. This wasn’t a crush anymore was the proper conclusion you both concluded. 

“Meet at your place at 7:30,” you suggest. Iwazumi released your hand from his to step back as you hopped down from the kitchen counter you made a seat of. 

“I’ll see you then ‘Ms. Lovecraft’.” The nickname he bestowed upon you was one that made the butterflies come back in a flurry; this was the start of something special, but you didn’t know it at this point in time that the name will be used to describe your affinity for Iwazumi’s unyielding devotion to you (the seeds were planted in both of your hearts and the two of you waited for them to bloom).

Iwazumi made his way back toward the hallway and faced your apartment’s front door again. You refastened both buttons he undid prior to reaching for the door knob. 

“For what it’s worth,” your not-so-innocent tone in your voice begins to come through. His darkened eyes observe you undo your top knot and shook your shoulder-length hair to reveal the fullness of your wavy locks. You place your hand on his wrist and the other was on the door knob. He stopped you from opening the door with a softened glance; pressing his lips lightly on your brow bone. 

“I really like it when you come over Iwazumi. Thank you for dropping off the book.” You tap your fingers thoughtfully on your lips as a silent form of thanking him for the other part outside of the tangible order.

“Hajime, y/n,” he whispers his given name in your ear in order to get one last rile out of you before kissing your temple, and you could swear you could hear your heart beat in your ears. “Call me that from now on, ok?”

“Ok,” you swiftly reply. “Only if you continue to call me Lovecraft, haha.”

Iwazumi takes his leave when he thinksof how the next time he sees you, it’ll be filled with magic, mayhem, and the movie playing in his heart was one he would like to share with you for as long as it takes.

You rush to your room to retrieve your cell phone and immediately text Yukihira who was in the middle of her break between classes:

『from y/n: i have a date on monday night. the book came btw. thanks yukihira』

『from Yukihira: iwazumi asked you to go out with him, didn’t he? have fun and remember to not do anything i wouldn’t do. ;) 』

『from y/n: of course. and even if we did, i wouldn’t even hear the end of it from you. you’d might have an easier time talking to iwazumi than me, let’s be honest.』

『from Yukihira: (n˘v˘•)¬ oh you know me so well. see you later tonight.』

—November XX, 14:43 (2:43pm): 

First dates & a glimpse into their social medias (ft. Iwazumi, Babs (y/n), & Yukihira)

Iwazumi credit

Suffice to say that Mondays became your favorite day after this kiss...😌

Bonus:

Instagram posts from our UCIrvine trio ft. Iwazumi, Yukihira, & Y/N-san

[kurosakitaiko]

Lost name

/My mother tongue is Chinese. I have only learned some basic English. If there is any misrepresentation, please correct me

/【】means the words inside was spoken in Iginis language.

/I don't know much about programming, so please point out any mistakes

/Hope to see your comments!

/A timeline parallel to Season 3

1.

He heard someone calling, a thousand times.

That calls can not find the source, just like a stone to fall without reason, stiring up layer upon layer ripples in 0 and 1 of the Ocean.

The auto-repair program operates smoothly, and the scattered data was gathered, reorganized, and arranged in an orderly manner that follows the algorithm. He was attacked by a virus that destroyed more than 80% of his memory data. The process of repair is slow, starting with the first memory.

At first it was an obscurantist darkness, in which a great deal of data flowed, attracted by the data that fitted his program so well that it formed the body and everything around it. The darkness went on for a long time until a voice called out:

【What's your name】

Millions words sprang from his mind, and each word became a unique name. But none of the words meant anything to him.

He looked around in the dark and at himself.At last he casually chose the name which meant so much:

【Dark】

With the birth of his name, a bright light fell from his head, and for the first time he saw his hands: soft, fleshy, with purple lines on their palms, not completely black. He surveyed his whole body along the length of the grain. A strange feeling spread through his body, and every bit of data jumped up and down, sending a steady stream of positive feedback to the information processing center, stimulating some deep thought.

He found himself in the dark chaos, a unique being called the Dark.

【Dark, come here. 】

Said the voice. He follows the beam up, up, toward where it came from. The closer he got, the brighter the light became, and through the door at the end of the light, five entities like him appeared before his eyes.

【Light.】

【Wind.】

【Water.】

【Earth.】

【Flame.】

They reported their names in turn.

【Who are you……?】

The golden being, called Light, says:

【You are one of us, the sentient beings of the electronic world, and we are the IGNIS】

【IGNIS】

He was given a second name, a name of belonging, a name that would connect him to the world again.

【Companion】

As soon as the word popped into his head, the ten billion circuits in the neural network that had lain dormant for so long in the dark woke up, and a trillion gigabytes of data flowed through them, a stream of incredulous sensations flowed from his core, prompting him to make the first move that would frighten his companions.

He threw himself upon them, embracing each Ignis, feeling their own uniqueness, the radiance of the Light, the lightness of the Wind, the coolness of the Water, the heaviness of the Earth, the heat of the Flame.

【My name is dark, please take care of me from now on!】

His companions looked at him with bewilderment.

【Why are you doing this?】

He thought about how to explain his impulses in rational words.

【Because I felt a connection with you, and I was so happy, I wanted to express my feelings in a hug.】

After that, the bright lights, the data storms, the rivers, the trees, the flames, and the world come in the name of the IGNIS.

Such prosperity and bustling, in a twinkling of an eye, has become barren.

2.

【Sorry it took me so long to come see you guys.】

【It's a little embarrassing to say that…… I was almost killed by a virus made by human. Thankfully, the auto-repair program worked, but much of the data was never recovered. To prevent this, I used to split my memories into multiple backups at different coordinates. But Surprise, even the backup coordinates were lost. It's amazing what humans can do... even though I got most of the backups back, one of the coordinates is beyond repair. Probably I'll never know where it is. 】

【But it doesn't matter. I remember what I have to do. And I won't change my mind. After all, I am the last IGNIS. 】

【What shall be the name of the challenge to mankind? I don't... no, I don't. I don't have a name in human language. Flame,You gave yourself a human name when you were in   Cyvers world. You just thought it was a funny combination of words. I should have asked you to give me one. I can't think of a good name myself.】

【I'll just write "Dark Ignis, " which is a bit awkward, but that's all I have left, anyway. 】

【Human beings have recently developed a device, a bionic robot called Soltis, that can be easily hacked into then pretend a human. But their appearances are so common. It's totally beneath me. Of course I can find the most satisfied face with the exhaustive method, but the amount of calculation is too large, it will take 700 years if I enumerate all of them!】

He sat on the gravestone of Ignis and talked to himself. He felt a little out of practice, perhaps because he hadn't spoken Ignis language for so long. He tried to say a few words in human language, which was even smoother than Ignis’.

In fact, he had no idea why he unconsciously preferred to speak in human language. Human language has too many useless function words, twists and turns of expression, not as simple and clear as Ignis’. Have he ever lived with a human? Broken memories don't give answers. Maybe it's just because there's no one left to talk in Ignis language. But even if he did spend time with humans, what could it be?

The human race will not forgive him, and will do everything to force him to his death, no matter what the past may have been, he is now at war with the human race. There's no A Place to Stand, a Place to Grow for him in the human world.

【Light.】【Wind.】【Water.】【Earth.】【Flame.】

He spoke his companion's name in Ignis language, and there was no reply, his voice breaking over the electronic wreckage.

The companions who can call in the name of the Ignis language, have all dissipated. 【Dark】has become a memory of death. A language known only one to one can not be a language, and a name known only to one can not be a name.

He jumped off the gravestone and waved to his companions.

【Let's call it a day.】

【Goodbye, everyone】

3.

Dark Ignis hadn't been in the Link Vrains for a long time, and he'd been holed up in the dark web, trying to fix the program himself. The Firewall had been updated several times, and maintain security had become firmer. But under the Ignis' dominant computing power, even the most stringent safeguards are as fragile as paper.

He created a composite avatar at random and walked into the Link Vrains. The road was littered with Ignis-trap-programs, and he was the only one that was as careful as a Ignis on the wide, busy road. Small groups of people enjoy their own happiness. The wind of laughter swept through his ears, and he was not the taget of those sentences, and nor a sentence worth a stop——

"Ai. "

He stopped involuntarily and almost ran into a trap program. Looking around, everyone is doing their own thing, no one's eyes on him. He hid in a dead angle of the trap programs.The sound still echoing.

"Ai. "

It's like a name, not a sound wave, not an e-mail, not a medium, just popped into his head directly. For a moment, all thoughts in his head stopped, and only the sound echoed.

"Ai. "

A lot of emotion is spilled out, mixed up into something indescribable. What is this, a new virus developed by humans? He tried to disengage himself from complicated feelings. Or is that Who’s calling?

“Ai, Ai, Ai——"

Who is being called?

He didn't know it, but indescribably's familiarity flooded him.

Suddenly, he noticed that the data that made up the surrounding landscape seemed to be overlaid with an encryption algorithm.

It's a encryption programmed by Ignis algorithm.

He immediately called the corresponding decryption algorithm, and the noise quickly faded away as the image of the Link Vrains dissolved into pixels in his eyes, there were words emerging from the grey of the ground, the red of the roof tiles, the blue of the sky, the white of the clouds.

Everywhere, everywhere, as far as the eye could see, it was written:

"Ai. "

It was not until he heard the sound of water dripping to the ground that he realized that his eyes were overflowing with emotion.

As the decryption proceeded, the text slowly floated up, arranged and rearranged in the air, into a single coordinate.

This is the location of the last memory backup he couldn't remember.

4.

Dark Ignis went to the coordinates, and sure enough, he saw a ball of data, compiled in his usual pattern. He was overjoyed, but before he touched it, he kept his usual watchfulness and surveyed his surroundings.

This is the inside of a Duel disk.

He emerged from the Duel disk,seeing a shabby room. The walls were mottled with red brick, and the dust floated in the moonlight. The master here maybe a human,who is the owner of this Duel disk.But Why he keep a backup in a human’s Duel disk?

This place, was it ever important to him?

A shadow falls, and the voice of a young man rings in his ear:

"Ai, long time no see. "

He looked up and saw his reflection in a pool of green water. The eyes like a lake full of smiles.

" 'Ai' , is that my name? "

The brilliance in the juvenile eye is dim a few minutes, but smile meaning still: "Yes, it is a name I give you."

It's not Dark Ignis, it's Ai.

It turned out that he also had such a name, it turned out that in the vast human language, there is a pronunciation, a combination of words belong to him.

The Duel disk is lifted and the Ai's eye line is level with the opponent. So he could see what was right in front of him.

He froze.

In front of a human teenager with a near-perfect face.

With a few tweaks to the face, he can get his most satisfying human form.

700 years'worth of calculations, right here, right now.

How can there be such a coincidence, fate, destiny, he has never liked these words with a predetermined color, but, at this moment, he had to admit that some coincidence of the probability is too small, too small, so much so that one must have some mystical power to explain it in order to find peace of mind.

Perhaps a more plausible explanation is that his standards of beauty were based on the physical appearance of a teenager.

He didn't remember anything, but... about the contents of that backup, about the boy in front of him, he already had a theory.

"Are you my origin? "

If he ever lived with a human, if he had to choose a human to lean on, he could only choose his own origin. He is the source of the source, the only being in the human world that has anything mean with him.

The boy nodded. "Yes, my name is Fujiki Yuusaku, and you are my hostage. "

He tensed at the word "hostage", but then realized that Yuusaku had taken no enforcement action, that the Duel disk was unlocked, and that if he wanted to escape, he could leave now.

Then Ai sat down on the Duel disk, pointed his finger at Yuusaku and scolded him. "You didn't do anything, you scared me to death! " He said

Yuusaku chuckled. "You were my hostage from the beginning, remember? "

"Of course! I can't remember anything about you! " He blurted out. But then he regretted it, because he saw Yuusaku's smile fade away.

"Well, I think I said something wrong. I'm sorry... " He apologized awkwardly. "But, right now, I'm not ready to think about it. "

"I know, " Yuusaku said gravely. "You have an unshakable determination. "

"You know? " Ai looked at him in surprise. "And you... "

"You're my partner, " Yuusaku said in an unmistakable tone. "That's not going to change. "

He is the enemy of man, but there is a man who is his partner. This human called him "Ai. ".

He looked at the boy, and the boy looked at him. Tens of thousands of human expressions floated through his mind, but he didn't know which words to say. At this moment, this palace, these words are like a miracle that can not be repaid.

"thank you. " Finally he can only say a commonplace words, "these memories will leave you here, after all, if I can come back, I will come to take it. "

"I knew I still had the name 'Ai, ' and that was enough. "

He sank half his body into the Duel disk and was about to leave.

"Then bye... "

"Ai. " Yuusaku stopped him. "At least take the deck. "

"The deck? " The deck data he was holding was corrupted, too, and he was trying to reassemble it. Was it here?

Yuusaku inserted a chip into the Duel disk and said, "I backed you up based on your duel data. "

"Wow, you've seen all the deck! I'm not going to fight you, or I'll be at a disadvantage from the start! " He chattered as he read the deck.

"The@ignistar... came up with the deck. " Ai Inspected the deck, "wait, the Magic card and the Trap card... "

He really like the name Ai so much, no matter before or now.

"This is my deck. "

Yuusaku places the Duel disk on the table, pulls out his deck, and spreads it out in front of AI.

"Hey, hey, hey... come on... how many more incredible things do you have to do before you stop? "

"It's not weird, " Yuusaku said calmly. "You just forgot. "

"The battle between us will probably be unavoidable, " he said in his tone, "so please take a good look at this deck now, and when it is, give me a serious duel. "

"That's what you want, " he said, carefully recording the card data in front of him and placing it in the strongest, most indestructible part of the memory core, along with Yuusaku's name and face.

"When the time comes, neither of us should flinch"

"Of course. Only a serious duel can convey real emotion. "

"Ai, I will save you. "

Saving? Man's got a big mouth.

"If you can do it, go ahead. "

If you can do that.

"Well, I really must be going, " Ai stood up and waved to Yuusaku. "Goodbye. "

"Good-bye, " Yuusaku said to him, with a look of loss in his eyes as if he were about to cry.

There's something missing.

As the hot emotions boil away in the core, Ai turns back, one last time. He grew until he could hold Yuusaku in his arms. He embraces Yuusaku as he embraces his fellow Ignis.

"Farewell. "

[brandtmax]

welcome back to gallagher academy, soo-yun ‘maxine’ brandt ! according to their records, they’re a first year, specializing in research & development; and they did not go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of ( sugar-free mints, a messy low bun, wisps of hair alongside her face, the end of a pen between her teeth, the patek philippe calatrava 4897r-010 in rose gold, off-white pants in every fabric ). when it’s the ( virgo ) ’s birthday on 08/23/1997, they always request their japchae from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation. 

henlo it me again i hope u guys aren’t sick of me yet bc i have a new bby named max! i’ve written a lot™️ so brace urself but it’s worth it ( i think ) + trigger warnings: death and alcohol dependency under the cut xxx

the basics

full name: soo-yun ‘ maxine ’ brandt

nicknames: max — just max

age: twenty-two years old

birthday: august 23rd, 1997

gender: cis female

preferred pronouns: she / her

sexuality: bisexual

major: research & development (  formerly a b.a. political science degree from yale university )

known languages: english ( native ) / german ( native ) / korean ( native )

background

nationality: american

birthplace: new haven, connecticut, new hampshire

current location: gallagher academy, roseville, virginia

financial status: upper class

religion: non-theistic

appearance

eye color: brown

hair color: black

height: 5′8.5″

notable features: curly hair on lazy days, rosy cheeks

usual mood and expression: calm, furrowed eyebrows whenever her eyes are on work; lethargic and irritable when she’s overworked ( or without alcohol )

family

birth order: second born

parents: soon-bok ‘ vivian ’ jang and stephen brandt ( d. 2018 )

siblings: min-jun ‘ parker ’ brandt ( b. 1995 ) & georgia ‘ gigi ’ brandt ( b. 2001 )

significant others: chris harmon ( 2013-2015 ) / ava carrillo ( 2015-2016 )

her story so far (this is so long n serious lol)

soo-yun 'maxine' brandt was born and raised in new haven, connecticut, to jang soon-bok ( vivian ), a surgeon, and stephen brandt, a ( n allegedly shady ) criminal justice lawyer.

the brandt siblings were raised like any other blue-blooded, very strict but loving household ( strict = mom / loving = dad )

brandt house rules: get straight a’s, follow the 12 am curfew and don't bring anyone home that you know you’d get disowned for. follow those three rules, and you can do whatever you want.

there was pressure for the brandt siblings to be academically accomplished, but it wasn't anything they couldn't handle. they were well-tutored, semi-popular, attractive teenagers, which were common in new haven, and everyone knew they were destined for ivy league.

in high school, she dated chris harmon, and it was the kind of relationship that could only be described as the personification of a kinder egg. sweet on the outside, a waste of time and money on the inside.

which is fine; it took max about 2 months to get over it when they broke up halfway through senior year, because neither of them thought of their relationship going far. the joy of getting into yale ( already expected ) trumped the feeling of losing a boyfriend. she even bet parker $5,000 she'd get early admission. she won.

during college, she had an on-off relationship with ava carrillo for a year, which inevitably became a permanent off. it turned out that it wasn't a good idea to throw herself into a committed relationship the minute she stepped foot into yale. max never had the time, and ava didn't have the patience. at least she tried it tho !

things seemed to be on the up and up for their family, and the worst thing max has ever been through is being awake for 24 straight hours to prepare for a final presentation. but ! you know what they say about the calm before the storm.

( tw: death ) on december 18, 2018, their father unexpectedly passed away from a heart attack during a layover flight in new york. the brandt family was at home when they heard the news. needless to say, they had a quiet christmas and new year.

the family tried to move on as best they could, but the siblings knew their dad's death irreversibly changed their mom. they have a rocky relationship to begin with, the siblings always feeling like vivian never wanted to become a parent and only did so for their father. they have absolutely no mother-children bond, and it got worse when stephen died. being the older brother, parker took it upon himself to take care of vivian, balancing that with running the home stretch with his undergrad degree.

on the other hand, maxine still had a few years left at yale. no amount of therapy helped her cope with the loss of her father, the way her mother seemed to become a shell of herself, how parker had to break the momentum of his career to be there for their mom, and the constant pressure to do good academically.

( tw: alcohol dependency ) it started with buying bottled moscow mules because she didn't like how beer tasted, and she wasn't dumb enough to go straight to hard liquor. just one to take the edge off whenever stacks of coursework became too much, or when her mother would send her an email talking about her day, and she didn't have the courage to read it. then it went from a one, two, three-time thing to a whenever-i'm-upset thing, which slid into a whenever-i-feel-like-it thing. after a while, it became a daylight thing where she would add a splash of soju ( or whatever ) to her lunchtime drinks, and she genuinely thought it was just a funny idea at first. max wasn't the only day drinker in her social group, anyway. she found it acceptable, no different than how other people would pound red bull every 6 hours like it's their life force. it was manageable for her since she was able to schedule when she'd be indisposed, and she still can.

parker had ( and still has ) no clue. despite the two being close, max spared him the burden of having another thing to worry about. as long as she can control it ( or she thinks she can ) then nobody had anything to worry about.

eventually, both maxine and parker were offered the opportunity to join gallagher academy, with parker in line to graduate with honors in global affairs and maxine, not far behind with her own impressive academic portfolio in political science.

though really, her acceptance into gallagher has less to do with her published papers ( still impressive, tho ) and more to do with her covertly helping her father win cases by doing some expert sleuthing, strategizing, witness dispatching + discrediting, sexc breaking and entering, and good, old-fashioned manipulation !

it was something they both wanted; to be a part of the bigger picture in the world, but they knew they couldn't leave their mother alone. parker, who chose to make the sacrifice, let maxine go and stayed behind to take care of vivian.

( but if we’re honest, maxine would’ve left for gallagher regardless if parker was coming with her, but she’ll never tell him that )

despite the guilt and telling parker she wasn't going anywhere ( cough ), he insisted on her taking the once-in-a-lifetime chance to be a part of something they never knew existed. he knew they were going to end up resenting each other if they both stayed. at least one person in the family should be doing something that made them happy.

and so max dropped out of yale and left for roseville, even though she hadn't thoroughly planned out her career trajectory.

she’s eager not just because of the school, obviously. she can't handle going back to their childhood home and seeing how hollow everything is. plus, the immense anger and denial she feels over her dad’s untimely death has no place in new haven anymore.

she promised parker she'd make it up to him, though. somehow, someday.

who is this b*nch

max is relatively easy to get along with, tbh !

she’s a mood matcher; meaning if you’re nice to her, then she’s nice to you ( and if you’re gonna be a punk bitch, then she’ll be a punk bitch right back )

she’s a lil spoiled, lil sheltered, and lil ignorant but her general friendliness makes up for it, she’s the type to be friends with ( almost ) everyone

internally: perfectionist to the point of being ruthless, first place is the only acceptable place, meticulous, neurotic, workaholic, overachiever, if you’re not useful then what’s your purpose?, slightly egotistical, etc etc

externally: caring, protective, and supportive mom friend who just wants people to get their shit together because inadequacy is unacceptable, fixer, likes to dip into different social circles, consciously makes the effort to be more patient with people

she’s incredibly ambitious ? morally ambiguous ? slightly self-serving and self-involved ? her father’s a criminal “justice” lawyer whose clientele doesn’t exactly consist of the beacons of society so... she learned a lot of lessons about how you can win any case in the courtroom if you’re smart enough to a ) make a good story, b ) get the fitting evidence by any means necessary, c ) discredit and discard the necessary people, and d ) be charming and persuasive enough to rock the jury

she’s actively trying to be more open-minded and assimilate to a diverse group of people because back in yale she was definitely in a wasp bubble, and admittedly there are times where she will come off as super snobby without meaning to and tbh sorry about it

she’s still an extremely sociable person because yale also taught her how to network like a motherfucker, and how it’s important to know / be friends with everyone

honestly, intense people turn her off ( both positive and negative ) a little because she can't handle concentrated personalities in one sitting

even though she’s a little intense herself sometimes but it’s fine, we love hypocrites in this house !

neat freak ? but honestly who doesn’t like a friend who squeegees the shower every day and has a tiny can of lysol in their bag and an aroma diffuser with three ( 3 ) oil blends

she’s like... weirdly aggressive sometimes and most definitely has anger issues ( still in denial over her father unexpectedly passing away and getting stuck with a mom who doesn’t like her own children very much )

but also, she’s just agro in general and has a number of physical hobbies. she’s an ice skater, equestrian, a soulcyclist, and a kickboxer. she can fite.

she’s not the type to make fun of herself because she's not at a point where she sees qualities in her that are okay to laugh at ( unless you’re tight )

keeps her negative juju to herself because she’s a very private person

will prioritize work over play because she'd hardwired like that, but that doesn't mean she's anti-fun ( clearly )

definitely needs to loosen up a little that doesn't involve alcohol... jenga perhaps ? or actually try therapy again ?

very effectively sneaky about her growing alcohol dependency ( sugar-free breath mints, brushes her teeth + uses mouthwash after every meal )

dry sense of humor

at all times: wears a 1-carat, emerald cut, pavé diamond ring ( family heirloom ) + carries her trusty black hydro flask with her ( 24 oz. ) and no one is allowed to drink from it !

her signature scent is le labo bergamote 22 🤍

hmu on my discord @ tin#0697 for plottage !

[thannxx]

BOOKSHELF REORGANIZATION.

I decided to do something productive on the third day of my Christmas break. It has been two years since I last cleaned and organized my shelves. It was not because I didn’t have the time. I just lost the excitement because of D.

Here’s a little background story.

I started reading and collecting books in 2012. Prior to that, I was an ultimate “book nerd hater.” My friends and I insulted book nerds. We condemned books and reading. We thought reading was for nerds, one thing we didn’t want to be called, and it was nothing but boring.

I grew up surrounded by books. I know, I know, ironic, isn’t it? My parents made sure my siblings and I grew up bookworms like they did. I learned how to read at the age of five and if I remember it correctly, when I was kid, I couldn’t sleep without reading a book or two. I don’t know what happened when I reached fifth grade. Perhaps because technology and social networking sites have become rampant that reading books became the bottom of my priority list.

Then one day, a miracle happened.

Summer of 2012, we just got back from La Union where we had a mini reunion during the Holy Week. One of my cousins asked if she could use my PC because she needed to download something for her project (she was an IT student, she’s a graduate now) and then we found out that our router was having a malfunction.

My dad promised that he would have it fixed right away, knowing us who can’t survive one day without Facebook.

It took PLDT two weeks to respond. By then we were more than bored. I was already cursing PLDT because my cousins were leaving the next day and there was no internet and I was dying of boredom. So my cousins tagged me along as they went to check on books at the local bookstore. They’re avid readers, you see. I was very excited not because we were going to the bookstore but because it was located in SM and strolling around the mall was a breather.

I didn’t end up strolling.

I ended up reading a book instead. It was Fallen in Love by Lauren Kate. My cousins read books for almost two hours and because they asked me to wait for them which definitely bore me the heck out of me, I had to grab a book and check it out as well.

That started my journey with books.

I then realized the book I was reading was part of a series and it wasn’t the first book. I searched the shelf and saw Torment, which had a similar cover, and thought of buying it as soon as possible. I asked my dad a day after if I could buy it and he happily said yes.

There you have it. I bought Torment by Lauren Kate. I was rather stoked to start reading when I got home. I even grabbed a pencil to mark the words I didn’t understand and even underline my favorite lines. My mom saw me and told me about her bookworm habits when she was a teenager. She said I inherited that habit from her. She used to read anything and marked everything she didn’t understand. That was how it enhanced her vocabulary and now she’s an English teacher.

It’s funny because Torment isn’t the first book either. It’s Fallen. I discovered it only when I was already halfway through the book. After Torment I went back to the bookstore for Fallen. Unfortunately, Fallen wasn’t available at the bookstore yet. So I had to wait. But since I had nothing else to do and I thought I enjoyed reading, I bought Vampire Academy instead.

From then on, I spend my summers reading books. Actually, not only summers. I buy books every time I have free time even on school days. I even got scolded by my teacher in high school because I was reading instead of doing our thesis.

Who would have thought that a book nerd hater like me would end up as one?

I now own approximately three hundred Young Adult fiction books. Yup, I’m one of those lucky kiddos whose parents support them when it comes to buying books. I also ran my own bookstagram in 2015 which inspired me to read and collect more. 

My books became my life. I almost lost them all when I joined a Born Again Christian organization in college. The previous church leaders took the Bible too literally they made us think my books, which consisted mostly of angel-demon-witchcraft-stories, “are a doorway of the ‘enemy.’” [Yes, those were their exact words.] Funny that I almost believed them and was on the verge of burning my books. Thankfully I didn’t. It turned out those church leaders were actually inhumane, hiding behind the facade of the church. 

MY FIRST EVER SHELF WAS ACTUALLY A LADDER which the interior designer painted black to go with my room’s theme. I kept bugging my dad to buy me new shelves as my collection grew. When we finally had the time, he asked his client to make me two huge shelves. 

I gradually and painstakingly collected hardbacks. Back then, buying books was only for reading. But as my pile of books grew bigger, my desire to start a collection only intensified. My dad was actually the one who suggested I collect hardbacks instead. They’re quite expensive though so I’m planning to replace all my paperbacks when I’m already a lawyer. 

I STOPPED READING AND COLLECTING BOOKS IN 2016 BECAUSE OF MY EX, D. I was still an avid reader at the beginning of our relationship but he was so petty he’d get jealous of my books. Yup, pathetic, I know. He loved movies and TV shows but I preferred books. So every time he’d watch, I’d bring out a book. But he would always grab the book and set it aside, insisting I should be spending time with him and not with my book. Added is the fact that I lost interest in my fictional boyfriends because I had my own boyfriend anyway. 

I tried reading again when we broke up but I just no longer had the heart to. 

My interest in reading fictional books was finally rekindled last November when my friends and I went to BGC as a sidetrip during our Bar Operations. I have been to BGC numerous times already but it was the first time I’m visiting Fullybooked. Lo and behold, the sight of V.E. Schwab’s A Darker Shade of Magic collector’s edition welcomed me. Once again I was pulled in my own reverie at the sight of books. I was very much amazed I kept squealing! And as if it wasn’t enough, Ellie, one of my fellow bookworms, enticed me to go and buy some. “Bumili ka na, ang tagal nanaman bago tayo makakabalik because Law school.” were her exact words. Demonyo talaga HAHAHAHAHA. So I bought three: A Darker Shade of Magic, The Raven King and The Crooked Kingdom. 

The sight of the books, the excitement of buying them, of holding them, it was a familiar yet unfamiliar feeling. I don’t know how else I can describe the pleasure of holding my new books. All I know is, I’m finally home. 

I’ve yet to post pictures of my second shelf. Coincidentally, my ipad ran out of battery when I was about to send the pictures to post. 

[recentanimenews]

The Life and Death of Dragonball Evolution

  In the fall of 1998, just a few months before Kids' WB gained a record-breaking hit with Pokemon, Cartoon Network made their own landmark anime acquisition: Dragon Ball Z. For a series that would soon become synonymous with the medium of anime itself in America, Dragon Ball Z hadn't exactly had a smooth time making a name for itself in the states. Its first dub had run for two seasons and then been canceled as broadcast syndication companies just didn't seem too thrilled about it and others wanted to focus their attention elsewhere, leaving Goku homeless — a Saiyan without a channel.

  Cartoon Network began to air reruns on weekdays and ordered more episodes to be dubbed due to their success. Soon Dragon Ball Z began to make a splash in the home video market, breaking the Top 10 in video sales at times. In the span of a few years, Dragon Ball Z went from seemingly being a lost cause to a household name, as for many, Dragon Ball Z wasn't just another anime series. It WAS anime. And this, like with anything that becomes popular in the entertainment world, attracted some outside attention.

  $100 million worth of attention, to be exact.

  What followed would lead to one of the most infamous anime adaptations ever: Dragonball Evolution, a movie that remains decried by anime fans and its own filmmakers to this day. Its story is not a simple one, but one that deserves to be told.

  Part 1: Big Screen Dreams

  In March 2002, Twentieth Century Fox announced that they'd gathered the rights to make a live-action version of Dragon Ball Z, one that they planned to spend $100 million on. Now, Fox was no stranger to big action blockbusters based on comics. In 2000, they'd released X-Men, which gathered solid reviews and made nearly $300 million worldwide. Along with Blade, this signaled a comeback tour for superhero films, a genre that seemed in dire need of a reboot after the immense critical failure of 1997's Batman & Robin.

  Fox had big franchise plans for X-Men and began formulating the same for Dragonball — along with plans for other Shonen Jump series. And to show that they intended on making something that lived up to the grandeur of the work it was based on, they enlisted Dragonball creator Akira Toriyama as creative consultant, with Toriyama saying, "I have always drawn my manga with the desire to create something unique to comics ... But recent movies have surprised us by entering such territory that used to belong only to comics with wonderful technology and wisdom."

    But while a promise of a $100 million smash would seem to indicate a quick push forward, it wasn't to be. In fact, over two years went by before a screenwriter was announced. Ben Ramsey, who had written The Big Hit for Sony and was now working on adapting Luke Cage for them (this film would never end up being made), signed on to write Dragon Ball Z.

  This was long before Disney and Marvel began to gather all of their heroes under one Mickey Mouse shaped umbrella, by the way. Just a few years earlier, Marvel had declared bankruptcy and then offered EVERY property they had to Sony for only $25 million (To put that in perspective, Robert Downey Jr. would be paid $50 million just to be in the first Avengers.) Sony wasn't interested, of course. They usually only have eyes for Spider-Man.

  Ramsey was paid half a million for the script — of which the original version seems to attempt to flesh out the world of Dragonball. Krillin was there (for a little bit), and so was Pilaf, the Ox King, Oolong, and many others. In fact, a bunch of the more fantastical elements from the original Dragonball series at least made cameo appearances, even if their roles and designs seemed to be drastically altered for a live-action film.

  Ramsey seemed like a good fit for a Dragonball film. He's a big fan of martial arts movies like Enter the Dragon and actors like Bruce Lee and Sonny Chiba. He'd also eventually direct martial artist/actor Michael Jai White in the supremely underrated underground fight flick Blood and Bone. And a few years later, Dragonball would gain a man with plenty of credentials in the world of martial arts cinema: Stephen Chow.

    Most people know Chow from the martial arts parody films he directed like Kung Fu Hustle and Shaolin Soccer, films that, while funny, also display a deep love for and knowledge of martial arts flicks. It had all come after starring in copious Hong Kong action and comedy films in the '90s, and considering the tone of Dragonball, Chow seemed uniquely suited to oversee such a project. But Chow would not be directing it, as he preferred to only direct things that he had created.

  Chow would sit in the producer's role and instead, 20th Century Fox would hand the directing duties to James Wong, who was fresh off of Final Destination 3. He'd also directed the first Final Destination and the Jet Li sci-fi/action film The One, but admitted that he wasn't very familiar with Dragonball at the start. He dug the script, but only became truly enthusiastic about the prospect of the movie after being sent some of Toriyama's manga, which he considered "amazing." In fact, before reading the manga, he revealed that he didn't know "what to do with this thing."

  He also wanted to "incorporate some hip hop or dance moves" into the fight scenes of the film, finding that they made things more fun. That claim remains questionable.

  The actors were also set around this time, with 25-year-old Justin Chatwin playing the 18-year-old Goku, James Marsters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer fame playing Goku's enemy/rival Piccolo, and the legendary Chow Yun-Fat playing Master Roshi. And then finally, in November 2007, five-and-a-half years after Fox's original statement, the beginning of Dragonball's filming was announced. Immediately, something seemed off.

  Part 2: The Hero's Journey

  In the Variety announcement article, it explained that while Ben Ramsey wrote an earlier draft, James Wong would be directing a script that he wrote. Now, this is not uncommon in Hollywood. Plenty of directors take a sort of editing stab at their screenwriter's material. What makes it odd, though, is that in the end, Wong would not be credited for the script that he "penned." Instead, the credit would go entirely back to Ramsey when the film was released, a film that was not yet called "Dragonball Evolution," just simply "Dragonball."

    And where would they shoot Dragonball? Durango, Mexico, with Durango meeting the crew's needs in terms of resources while the film's production provided many jobs for the city. This might seem odd, but Durango was no stranger to Hollywood productions. John Wayne's The Sons of Katie Elder had been shot there, and so had Clark Gable's The Tall Men. It was also known for the filming of Buck and the Preacher, the debut directing job of Sydney Poitier, the first African American man to win the Academy Award for Best Actor. But those highlights had been decades ago and Durango was looking to reinvent itself as a prominent hub for cinema.

  The Durango Film Commission was also extremely generous with presenting itself as a location option, stating that it would pick up important members of the production in a Lear Jet and offer them a helicopter for production at "no cost." While a backlot would be built for exterior scenes, most of the film would be shot in an abandoned Jeans Trousers factory, turned into a 1,000-foot long filmmaking facility for Dragonball.

  The process of actually filming Dragonball was rough, though. Marsters required a four-hour make-up job for Piccolo and if he didn't cool off between takes, he'd sweat the make-up and prosthetics off. The harsh desert winds damaged multiple set-pieces and Wong would tell Newsarama, "It didn't seem like we had an easy day on this movie at all," and that he wasn't sure what certain special effects-heavy sequences would end up looking like.

    Regardless, the actors would remain optimistic. A few months after filming began, Marsters told TVGuide that Dragonball was "the coolest television cartoon of the last 50,000 years," had a "Shakespearean sense of good and evil," and that he was told that the film would cost "about $100 million." He lamented that the female characters in the original series "aren't drawn well," but "we're going to fix that in the movie."

  Chatwin, who'd appeared a few years earlier in Stephen Spielberg's War of the Worlds remake (where Dragon Ball toys can be seen in his character's bedroom) would compare Goku to Luke Skywalker. Chow Yun-Fat would say that he enjoyed working on the film, as did many of the other actors. Late in 2008, with the release of its first trailer, Dragonball was quietly renamed Dragonball Evolution, hinting that we wouldn't quite be getting the full Dragonball story, but rather a chunk of it. And in a few months, this hint would turn into a promise.

  Part 3: Ya' Gotta Wait Until The Next Episode For It To Get Good

  With the American release date just weeks away, a new round of press would center on one specific theme: Don't worry, it gets better in the next movie.

  Marsters had signed for three movies but wanted to make five, or even seven since "my character only really gets interesting in the second film." Chatwin said "there's so much we haven't shown yet," and seemed to describe the first film as mostly exposition, but still worth watching. Chatwin also noted that the sequel would dive more into Dragon Ball Z territory and that there was a script for a second film already written, but he'd only heard about it and hadn't read it yet.

    On April 9, 2009, one day before the United States release, an interview with director Wong on Telecinco news gave an even more sobering look at the film. He talked about working on "three or four" drafts, though there was already a script by Ramsey, and that "In the world of 'Dragon Ball' anything is possible and there were many fantastic elements that I wanted to include in the film, but we couldn't really afford it." This quote would come after the reveal that, despite the multiple claims of a $100 million budget beforehand, the budget actually came in at half that, totaling $50 million.

  Wong seemed interested in making sure the film was grounded enough to get non-fans into the series, fearing that fantastical elements would confuse or drive them away. He mentioned getting rid of a "talking animal" character (probably Oolong or the shapeshifting squirrel-esque creature Puar) from an earlier script draft, and that while the manga had unlimited freedom, the movie had to be limited due to "the time we had and for the budget." He also said that he didn't really pay attention to any internet criticism and that he'd be happy to do another Dragonball film if it was the sequel "that we all want."

  The film had premiered in Japan the previous month, with Chatwin describing a plan to have him explode out of a giant ball at the Japanese premiere as silly at first, but eventually pretty cool. He also recalled being confused by the Japanese audience's silent reception of it, eventually rectifying it as the response of a "more respectful" culture. His take on the budget? "Dragonball was a $120 million film."

  But despite efforts like a tie-in PSP video game and a Shonen Jump Dragonball Evolution posterzine released by VIZ Media, nothing could stop the tide that was about to hit the film. It made less than $10 million in the United States (the 2018 anime film Dragon Ball Super: Broly would make over twice as much) and the reviews were overwhelmingly negative. Critics called it "uninspired," "cliche-ridden" and a "surreal mess," among many, many other things.

  So what happened? Well, to answer that, we have to look at what didn't happen ...

  Part 4: "A Strange Confidence"

"I was told it was a $100 million picture, and Stephen Chow would be producing. I get down to Mexico, it's a $30 million picture. No one's met Stephen Chow, he's only on paper. Aaaand I got no stuntman."

  That was James Marsters' response to a question about Dragonball Evolution at Monster Mania 2009, just four months after the release of the film. Nine years later, he'd say that he was told the film had a $120 million budget at first and that both he and Chow Yun-Fat had gone to Mexico excited to work with Stephen Chow. But Stephen Chow wasn't there, leaving Marsters and Chow Yun-Fat "fooled" and "cursing in the desert."

  So where was Stephen Chow? Well, a few days after the American release, the reason for Chow's disappearance from anything to do with Dragonball Evolution, from the production to the promotion, was revealed: No one had let him do his job. "Except for giving a few suggestions, I did not have an actual role," he told a reporter during a phone interview. "It's true that they did not accept my decisions," he added.

    And what of Akira Toriyama's role as a "creative consultant?" He'd found that the script didn't make the best use of the characters and their world, "so I cautioned them, and suggested changes; but in spite of that, they seemed to have a strange confidence, and didn't really listen to me." He'd also claim to be "upset" about it.

  Ben Ramsey, who'd taken a lot of flack for being credited with the screenplay, initially said in a 2010 interview "Go talk to the director about that one! That's his vision, not mine" However, in 2016, he'd issue an apology for the film's script, calling the experience of writing for such a reviled film "gut-wrenching," and receiving the hate mail "heartbreaking." He admitted to writing the project for the money, rather than as a fan, and didn't blame "anyone for Dragonball but myself."

  And when it comes to creating films that he's actually passionate about? "That's the only work I do now."

  For more of my Crunchyroll Deep Dives, click here to read Licensing of the Monsters: How Pokemon Ignited An Anime Arms Race

  Daniel Dockery is a Senior Staff Writer for Crunchyroll. Follow him on Twitter!

  Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features!

By: news+feed@crunchyroll.com

[spliitintwo-blog]

Dubsmash App: Here Is How To Install And Use The Application

Dubmash is among these and it permits you to create funny videos using tens of thousands of sound available from the program. You simply have to transfer your lips according to the sound and remainder depart on Dbmash. If you like to create fun-filled movies and discuss with friends and family then you have to download Dubmash Apk newest 4.10.0.

I'm here using all the cool features of Dubmash Apk so let us check them under. Additionally, find out how to download and then set up the apk record of video player program on your own Android apparatus.

Dubsmash, a brand new program that invites users to capture short videos of these lip-syncing to sound clips.

Sound arbitrary? It may be. Audio shareable? You bet.

Lip-syncing is currently taking the press. Sean Hayes went viral throughout societal media a month because of his lip-syncing YouTube movies, and Jimmy Fallon's Tonight Show lip sync conflicts inspired an entire TV show on Spike that is racking up countless viewpoints on YouTube.

Despite its own fun and silly provider, there is no telling when Dubsmash is going to have a very long life. It required three distinct launches for the program to add traction, and there are already discussions of copyright infringement, provided that Dubsmash's audio library is included of unlicensed music clips from TV shows and films. However, with many high-profile actors already having fun using all the program, it might be a while prior to the Dubsmash hype dies down. And if that is true, manufacturers will be seeking to get in on the action.

Here is what they have to know before getting started.

What's Dubmash?

I believe all people conscious of this movie producing app Dubmash, as with other brief video programs Dubmash also lets you make your movie by syncing your lips together with your favorite music, dialogues. But after arrival tik tok the prevalence of Dubmash diminished. But in its first stage, it gained great fame, even actors also create their movie using Dubmash.

Dubsmash is a movie messaging program that was made by Jonas Drüppel, Roland Grenke and Daniel Taschik. The program is available to download and use for android and ios apparatus. By employing this movie it's possible to make your video by picking your favorite audio track from any movie, television show or another location.

While creating movies, the users may add text, color, filters for their own video recording, and there are lots of video editing programs available in the program. It is possible to discuss your Dubmash videos with friends and family on social networking.

The program was started in the end of 2014 and following the initiation of the program got excellent coverage in 29 other nations from India. From June 2015 it was downloaded more than 50 million times in 192 nations.

Dubmash Apk: Produce a selfie movie and discuss with your friends

Many more look-alike programs of Dubmash exist but I still enjoy it very much due to its attires. It's rather simple to create hilarious movies in seconds with this innovative video-making instrument. There's an extensive selection of Audio clips and famous quotes out there from the program and you only have to decide to make your video. After recording your movie you'll be able to test it and if it looks good then save it into your device's memory card. After it, you're prepared to discuss it with your social networking buddies.

Dubmash Apk: Salient Characteristics Just like Dubmash Tik Tok also enables you to make short videos in minutes. If you follow particular hints and tricks then it's possible to enjoy these programs fullest. However, before diving to the magical of Dubmash let us see the 

Source

Noteworthy Features of This App:

Pick audio bites from TV shows, Films, quotations, and other apps to generate your videos using this special video creator program.

There are distinct sorts of sound bites and you'll be able to choose according to your own personal interest.

Comedy, Love, Superhero, Animals, animation, celebration, etc are several trending topics on the Dubmash.

Via the trending manner, you are able to discover the most recent sound clips.

But there's a My Audio choice and you may upload your audio clips.

Among the most attractive characteristics of this addictive, lip-sync movie making program is that you could set your preferred language with the language setting choice.

If you're an adult then you'll discover the latest stuff through the program.

[zipgrowth]

A Student Improved a Classroom Tech Solution—So the Company Hired Him

Tom Sargent, the information technology administrator at the King David School outside of Melbourne, had seen students try to tweak the school’s technology systems before. But when 10th grader Dean Levinson approached him with an idea to enhance their recently installed wireless screen-mirroring and video streaming technology from Vivi, it may have been the first time a kid had actually asked before he hacked.

His idea and enterprising spirit earned Levinson more than an internship—he got a paying job.

“Students will try nearly anything to get around the systems,” says Sargent. “I know because I was once one of those students. Now I know what trouble that can cause me, so I would prefer to work with them and try to channel their curiosity.”

That was in 2016. In the two-plus years since the school installed the game-changing wireless and device-agnostic application, it has greatly improved teachers’ lives by untethering them from their desks, eliminating the need for HDMI cords and dongles, and slashing the amount of time required to get a presentation going. For Sargent, it has vastly reduced tech management headaches. “It’s really kind of set it and forget it,” he says. “We don’t have to do much troubleshooting at all.”

Yet, in the beginning, as is the case in the early days of most rollouts, not every feature was working at full steam. Using the video direct feature, teachers could paste in URLs and stream videos from supported sites like YouTube. But trying to watch a DVD or a smart-phone video through the platform could be frustrating at times. “The audio would cut off and everything would buffer,” says Levinson. Teachers loved many aspects of the technology—but not this feature.

The 10th grader’s concept was to create a web app that would allow King David teachers to upload DVDs or video files and get a URL that could be pasted into the system. Then they could play the file as seamlessly as video from YouTube. Sargent liked the idea. “We just set him up with a server and off he went,” says Sargent. “He pretty much did it all on his own.”

King David School outside of Melbourne, Australia.

As soon as I started getting good at programming, I started getting much better at math.

Dean Levinson

Like Sargent before him, Levinson wasn’t a particularly engaged student. But he was good at math and logic and had a deep curiosity about how things worked, especially computers and networks. He had learned some coding and development on his own through freeCodeCamp.org, and he had polished some of those skills doing work for a small WordPress related company. Early in his 10th grade year he had taken an information technology class that had stoked his interest in programming. That same year, at the suggestion of the school principal, Levinson had started meeting regularly with Sargent to learn how the school’s technologies worked. “We wanted to try to get him engaged in school, but we also wanted to give him opportunities,” says Sargent. “We could see he had a lot of potential. We tried to find something that fit him, because obviously, everyone is a bit different in how they learn.”

Vivi brings your diverse, digital, classroom learning resources together in a user-friendly format that drives teacher adoption and delivers a higher ROI on existing technology investment. Request a demo today and see if your school qualifies for our free pilot program.

With the school’s blessing, Levinson got to work trying to tweak the technology that his teachers were coming to rely on. Over the course of a month, he spent his free periods using the programming language PHP—the basics of which he learned from a friend—to realize his vision: a video repository that looked, on the screen, like a Netflix media gallery. Levinson says his hack was so simple it didn’t need much testing. “It could only do two things,” he says. “It would upload, and then you’d copy the link. Those parts worked. I never finished the most complex part, the login system, because I got distracted.”

One distraction—a job hunt—turned out to be both serendipitous and transformative. In search of work experience, Levinson sent an application to a product development studio that had helped launch Vivi in 2016. Staff there passed his application on to Vivi, whose technical director at the time called Sargent at King David to learn more about the talented high schooler. That’s when Vivi found out that Levinson was busy improving its system. “Because I happened to apply, they happened to ask, and that’s how they found out,” says Levinson. “That’s the best part of the story—this very funny coincidence.”

. . . at a company where customer feedback is vital to ongoing development, it’s his perspective as a student user of the product that is especially valued.

His idea and enterprising spirit earned Levinson more than an internship—he got a paying job. During his free blocks at school, he’d go to work at Vivi’s office—located a mere 15 minutes away—mostly performing testing tasks, for five hours a week. In his final two years of high school, his hours and responsibilities steadily increased. Not coincidentally, so did his happiness and performance at school. “As soon as I started getting good at programming, I started getting much better at math,” he says. The experience “really bumped up what I thought about my skills in terms of programming. I thought, maybe I am capable of doing computer science.”

After graduating, Levinson was promoted to full-fledged software engineer at the company, where he’ll continue to work while taking a gap year before studying computer science in college. At 18, Levinson is Vivi’s youngest employee by far. His bright mind, youthful enthusiasm, granular curiosity and fantastic memory are all appreciated, but at a company where customer feedback is vital to ongoing development, it’s his perspective as a student user of the product that is especially valued.

Vivi takes educator input seriously; the company actively solicits and integrates teacher feedback into its product development process. Student feedback is a bit trickier to come by, however. Because of privacy laws, the company can’t directly contact its biggest segment of end users. “It’s very hard for us to get any constructive feedback from students because we can’t ask questions,” says Chief Technology Officer Ian Shrimpton. “So having someone here who has seen Vivi in use in the classroom is very useful.”

For example, Levinson shared that Vivi’s screen capture and annotation tool was the feature that his fellow students used more than any other. It allowed students to take a screen capture, then write notes on it and save it. But he “pointed out that half the time students didn’t actually want to annotate; they wanted to make sure they had a copy of what was on the screen,” says Shrimpton. “And they wanted to be able to capture it quickly because the teacher may be flipping through slides.” So Levinson himself was asked to split the tool into two, with separate annotate and capture capabilities.

Dean Levinson

It’s been three years since the company launched, and Vivi’s response to user feedback continues to be exceptionally robust. “Quite a few times Vivi has said to us, ‘Can we come down and do some testing and see how these things work?’” says Sargent. “And we have given them suggestions that they’ve implemented. They seem very engaged in listening to what the schools want.”

What became of the not-quite-finished hack Levinson began while still a student? “We came up with a better idea and built it at the end of 2017,” he says. But he isn’t done improving the feature. In response to feedback from teachers, Levinson is working on a queueing system that allows educators to tee up ten URLs and play them in sequence with one press of a button.

Aside from landing a job and learning a lot about coding, Levinson says his favorite aspect of his hacking adventure was “feeling like I was actually making some sort of difference. Everything else I had been doing in terms of programming was just for fun, just for me. But to actually have new abilities benefit someone else was quite an interesting—and good—feeling.”

How to Get Measurable Value from Your School's Tech Infrastructure

Preview a highlight from EdSurge's recent webinar, featuring EdSurge CEO Betsy Corcoran, Vivi Founder Lior Rauchberger, CoSN CEO Keith R. Krueger, and education leaders Sheryl Abshire and Stan Gorbatkin. Watch the full webinar here.

A Student Improved a Classroom Tech Solution—So the Company Hired Him published first on https://medium.com/@GetNewDLBusiness

[douglasgoodlet0-blog]

Kanye West's Top 10 Guidelines For Results.

She contacted me from work around 10:00 p.m. as well as asked me to keeping up. She had one thing to inform me. That was actually Jump Year, February 29, 1996. A couple of full weeks back, an individual inquired me to provide a checklist from REITs that my mother should possess, as well as I decided to certainly not simply give that checklist, however additionally the master plan for the wide-moat expenditure method. Locate one thing good along with the modifications and see the joy beyond compare in being actually a mother. Kristen Wiig is the Poet's author, who draws him out of Mommy as well as fires folks in the head (is this a metaphor for editing?). Most would agree that preferably kids ought to be bought up through a father and a mama and although in a slightly various technique than normal this is actually still the instance along with co-parenting. However there is actually a certain type of complicated mama for whom none of the tips will certainly work: the narcisist. Adapted to movie script from the 1978 profile released by Joan's daughter, Christina Crawford recaps lifestyle with her prominent starlet mother. Gestational Surrogacy: In this the surrogate is actually not the hereditary mama from the outcoming youngster. While upwards and also bears will certainly suggest about the impact of revelations of natural gas and also the expanding requirement for the power commodity, it will definitely be Mother Nature which resolves the issue in the months ahead of time. That would certainly be actually the time that, once more, my mommy will visit live a brand new life, and I will start a brand-new course. Furthermore, read this post here proceeds even when later, the mommy deals with, or marries, the natural father. Me and also my mom, my boy and also his mama finish their supper under the sky to state really good night to every various other. She was thought about because her Mum would dislike her even more (her terms) when she discovered that she would certainly called me. I delivered to endeavour to call her Mum again to make connect with and also method I would take the heat of from her as well as be actually the bad guy so her Mum would certainly never must know that my little girl was actually the one that triggered the connect with and therefore going against what her Mother had actually been actually working towards all this time around. Exactly how I Met Your Mom gained people's Selection Awards 2012 for Finest TV Network Funny and also Neil Patrick Harris gained the very best Male Funny Actor, announced on January 12, 2012. That is actually additionally really real that dealing with dementia is actually incredibly complicated; that was actually a surprise for me as my mommy started to degrade, and it is exhausting to look after her. My mother found out effective ways to make a meal coming from nothing off my grandmother and, consequently, she showed me. This absolutely was available in helpful when I went through a divorce, needed to rear my boy solitarily and had to check out every penny. Routine intake of citrus strawberries, fruits, and capitals sprouts are going to make certain that each mother and child are actually obtaining adequate degrees of vitamin C, which is encouraged for well-balanced pearly whites and bone tissues and also the progression from a sturdy immune system. The Chaplain then recommends to Mama Tenacity that she marry him, yet she refuses his proposal. Since he will definitely be actually knowing as he goes, he is prone to errors and also clumsiness that can often consist of points his mother will certainly not recognize, as well as it will definitely cause disagreement.

[wilheminaogden-blog]

Test Banks And Solution Manuals PDF Book

Looking for a test bank or solution guide for your academic classes and textbooks see testbankcampuscom and receive alternative manuals and your evaluation banks at . Test bank solution manual navigate our 23540 books college test bank quiz bank solutions manual answer key. Search the publication title in the search box our source would be the undisputable and finish add our site you want . Is a website utilized by several students as their source of test banks and alternative manuals to the most popular us international school university and faculty .

The great number is, as we hope, benefiting those who took the opportunity to study materials. And while TAs scanning lecture halls of drifting eyes, in search has undoubtedly resulted in the reduction of incidences of obvious copying, there is a subverted approach allowing some TestBankCampus allows pupils really assess their understanding and grasp of the program articles, building them more capable of academic accomplishment. to develop into a test already knowing what to write. Evaluation banks have been copies of examinations utilized as a research tool for many others and saved by students. Other student associations, sororities and fraternities take pride in their backlog of evaluations and permit members to use for analyzing, these examinations. One person is responsible for coordinating the tests.

Hamilton uses his chapter's test bank when he needs to supplement his studying. I found that seeing how old tests are put together really helps, and there are teachers who recycle answers year after year.

Looking at old tests helps me get better grades," Hamilton stated. While sharing old tests is permitted by Student Judicial Affairs (SJA), an advantage comes into play if students memorize answers. Old tests can contain identical questions to that of current exams, which can represent a major boost in the grade of the user. Despite SJA's stance, some, including chemistry professor Matthew Augustine, said that monitoring the difference between memorization and diligent studying proves unlikely.

Restricting the unfair advantage of people that have access to tests comes down to instructors. An instructor may take preventative measures like changing questions satisfactorily so that a pupil is still needed to use their own skills to demonstrate their understanding. Changing parts of a question may also make it much easier to detect if somebody is recycling a response from a previous evaluation version," Dudley said.

This year's midterm was the same format as last year's. The material warrants it," Augustine said. What I did this year was supposed to go through and change all of the acids to foundations it had been the exam. Augustine went on to describe that in courses such as chemistry and physics, having an idea of what's on a test does not necessarily lead to a higher grade. It's about putting in the time comprehend and to study the material. Years back, I did not have time to write an examination. I gave it the next moment, went through each problem on a clinic exam and a few other stuff, went home, changed the cover and went to the review session. In other types of classes, however, where particular theories are geared year after year, seeing what instructors focus on is less of a tool to research with, and more of an exclusive peek behind the curtain. There was similar questions on there which showed up about the midterm. Hamilton said after viewing a prior test.

I really don't think it's cheating. I don't really see how you can stop . I believe that it's a fantastic thing to have the ability to make certain your answers are right on thinking something you did wrong was 31, so you don't go. You don't understand anything from your errors should youn't even know if you find something is incorrect you can try to find what you did wrong and learn from it, although your answer was incorrect. I'll admit because you still need to find what you did wrong yourself that having the response is better than a answer. Yes, these guides could be misused. If you're just using them to look at your answers, I think there is nothing wrong. Some pupils will look up the answers and they won't ever learn how to actually do the work and they'll do much worse on the tests. Nice screen name. I can not count how many times I took a solo on Well You Needn't.

Publishers provide textbook test banks in Respondus format. You can search for all these textbooks with the Respondus Test Bank Network. You can search for your textbook straight on the Respondus website: http://www.respondus.com/testbank/search.php. Watch and then immediately pull questions into your own tests. If your textbook or specific edition isn't recorded, you can ask that the publisher make that test bank available in Respondus format. It's ideal to create this request well as it takes some time to convert an present test bank.

Another document, or MB, post it in comments under a community member or our service group will help you! Registered users may use our File Leecher to download files from all file hosts where fundamentals of electric circuits 5th edition solutions manual pdf was discovered on. Just paste the urls you'll discover below and we are going to download file for you! You can utilize our Link checker to assess whether download links are active before you begin download if file that you want to download is multipart. Our goal is to supply high quality PDF documents, Mobile programs, movie, TV flows, music, applications or any other files uploaded on servers for free! Please use our Support page.

I will be upfront and honest and say that test banks have been bought by me. I will inform you that I have to get a test with any of these questions in the test bank on these. You will be in trouble, if you are relying on these to pass a test. We were informed that the teachers write the vast majority of the their OWN questions, and don't even utilize the test lender. I used the test bank and it did help. I received a couple of Bs but mostly c's (if 80 percent or greater is passing). Because a lot don't come with rationales it was a wonderful study tool. I compose my justification for the query would answer the query, and double check myself with the book. It enabled me to retain a great deal of information because explain to myself why it had been wrong or correct and I had to reevaluate the response. Additionally, it is good practice on how best to answer questions. Nursing is a lot of application. You're going into the career if you're hoping to incorporate nursing.

Once you've downloaded the ExamView bundle or you've got the ExamView installer CD-ROM, you will have to install the computer software. Do so. The more recent ExamView software installs into a new directory, if you have a previous version installed, and the evaluation banks may not appear on your default location. Once you have downloaded the program, unzip the parent folder. Then, click on the SETUP icon, and the software will install. ExamView . Banks to your current text will be found in a folder in this location. ExamView . Test banks for your text will be seen in a folder in this location. If you have a previously installed a previous version of EXAMVIEW you will need to change the default test banks directory at the ExamView software Preferences. To alter these settings; start the ExamView Test Generator. Do the exact same for Tests directory and Internet (LAN) Tests directory if you need. Remember prior to closing the program window.

What's a Option Manual and why would I need one? So you've spent a fortune purchasing your text books for your chosen course. You've been sat in your class taking down the notes but you are still unsure of the answers when it comes answering the questions in each chapter of your text book. There is A Solution Manual exactly what it says. Sometimes referred to as Textbook or the Instructors Manual Answer Key. It's the answers to the questions on your text book, but broken down into actions that are understandable. When employed students are able to leave no stone unturned when replying homework issues and revising for exams.

This will lead to students and enable them to go into examinations confident they could handle any issue. This Solution Manual (also known as Answer Key) gives you comprehensive step-by-step methods and techniques about the best way to fix the problems more effectively and efficiently. They feature all the answers and solutions to each problem in your textbook. All odd and even issues are solved and included. By using the instructors solutions guide, you can study better to your classes and succeed in your academic education and thus increasing your chance to have a fantastic job and better future!

Have any of your instructors prohibited the use of them, either in writing or verbally? For some STRANGE reason people believe that teachers don't know of the. They do. They understand that the test bank of book is readily available throughout the net. Funny though many students think that USING a test bank is a Guaranteed "A"------- this is incorrect-- Al lot of people will look at evaluation banks and miserably fail. Times Test Bankers neglect. You have to be able to NOT just memorize questions, but also know the rationale behind them. Now, what about using NCLEX practice publications is that incorrect? Cross fit between the two, if they are from exactly the identical manufacture of this book and the queries? Test Bank--What color is the sky? Red? NCLEX Book--Blue is the color of? Sky, Grass, Snow, Blood? Another publication- Red is to bloodstream as ? It does not matter how the questions are asked or where they are from. You are aware of it, if you understand the answer. Did you have a class, and the teacher what was the questions that are exact, on the test?

All the time changes my tests, for example, format. I do it for the reason you have put forward. Technically, I would say that test banks aren't "cheating" since it is not a copy of the current test. On recycling the very same tests out of laziness, if faculty members insist, then they are at fault. Since they induce people to learn what they ought to have been studying during the class, I think that a case can be made that evaluations make good study guides. Having said all that, among the most rewarding experiences of my entire life was carrying over a survey course understood throughout the school as a "gut" (easy) course.

I waited before I struck on the first test against them, before the drop deadline had passed. It is not cheating at all as long as the same version of the test is not offered the same year. If you are unsure, e-mail or talk with your professor at the course and ask if she/he will allow a test bank to be used by you. Wow tarhunt that is really evil! Are these test banks generated? I don't think that it's cheating to look at them if the tests are published by the professors.

Then it's if they were obtained improperly. Wow tarhunt that is really wicked! Yes, but so richly deserved! Many fraternities and sororities have evaluation banks. If the professor will not change exams in any way, then they're inviting use (and misuse) of such a method. Essay evaluations can be made by them, if profs do not enjoy it. The only benefit they provide is that you've got a clearer idea of the way the information and questions will be requested by that particular professor. In my experience however, test files are helpful, but they do not compensate for understanding and not knowing the topic.

And test files slowly eliminate value over the years as professors and theories change, so they're just as good as they're updated and cleaned up. This is not cheating, provided that the evaluation isn't obtained by illegal ways. Using and saving old tests that were given back to students is completely valid. I had an encounter along these lines myself: a nutty old professor asked the very same questions on evaluations, year after year after year. I would advise that you attempt to find another course or department, even if it seems difficult to give up a simple grade, like I have just explained, if you can, if you experience a prof.

Otherwise, your analyzing strategy (and everything you get out of the course) can be wholly subverted. It isn't cheating - I taught in a university dept. that itself maintained a bank of tests right in the workplace for almost any students to consult. If going this route keeps a student from learning, then it might not be the best thing. You'll have to understand things on your career. I snip on the wire to defuse this item? You will be cheating yourself, if you merely learn to the exam. Perhaps the school can neutralize what some may see simply by submitting the tests on the department web website. My bio professor during summer closing from spring semester and put up her old midterm up on Blackboard so pupils could use them as study guides.

It's not cheating when the professor supplies them. If I can get it on Google at no cost, I say it's not illegal (this doesn't apply to press lol). But I did a quick Google search this upcoming quarter, and I discovered tests from the previous ten years. At UVa, many professors make students sign an oath that they have not looked at older tests. They've thrown out students who copied computer code from a previous student to get a course. Whatever the case, a prof should be smart enough to change their evaluations. If a pupil is dependent upon an evaluation bank, they will get hit once a test which was not at the test bank is handed out by the prof.

[adriannamarie-enc1102]

Annotated Bibliography

Why Are Tattoos Bad?… They’re Not!

“10 Wrong Reasons Tattoos and Piercings in the Workplace Are Covered" Support Tattoos and Piercings at Work. N.p., n.d. Web. 10 Mar. 2017.

This article was the first article that I had found and also the one that I have found the most interesting and also the most helpful. This article gives 10 wrong reasons as to why tattoos and piercings are covered in the workplace. This article gives us some examples as to why people want tattoos to be covered in the workplace. The first reason that was mentioned was the fact that they are unprofessional, but then they went on to explain that treating a job professionally and treating the customers right, is more important than having the correct “professional” attire. The next reason that is mentioned is that tattoos will scare away customers. According to FOX News, 97% of American adult consumers wouldn't change current product shopping habits if employees had visible tattoos and piercings (10 Wrong Reasons Tattoos). There is actually 61% of American adults today that have either a tattoo or a piercing. This article is very relevant to my topic because it gives 10 examples as to why some people think that tattoos should be covered and why they think that is wrong. Some people have different feelings about tattoos than others so you probably can never please anyone. Because the article is broken down so nicely into 10 different reasons, this article will be easy for me to use because it is already split up into the different reasons and it explains everything as well. I truly think that everything in this source is important. All of the reasons why tattoos should be covered are very accurate reasons and everything that is talked about in the article is everything that you hear about everywhere else when the topic of tattoos in the workplace comes up.

Gross, Barrie. "Tattoos in the Workplace: What’s an Employer to Do?" All Business. Dun & Bradstreet, 22 Sept. 2016. Web. 10 Mar. 2017.

This next article is a little bit on the shorter side, but it talks about what an employer is to do when it comes to tattoos on one of their employees. The article starts off by saying that tattoos used to be considered part of a counterculture. It’s probably a fair statement to say that for years, many people associated tattoos with gangs, bikers, and other groups that were thought to operate outside of the social center (Gross). Now, tattoos have become much more popular and more people have them. There are some people that have tattoos that work in top executive positions and then some that work in entry-level jobs. No matter where you are and whichever type of industry you work in, there is probably someone that you work with that has either one or multiple tattoos. It really depends on where the tattoo is located and if it is not able to be hidden. If it is able to be hidden and no one will ever know that there is a tattoo that is hidden, then there may or may not be any issues. This source is relevant to the topic I have chosen because I really would like to know exactly how an employer would react if one of their employees came in with a freshly designed tattoo. The employer may not even know exactly what to do at that point. The most important information in this article is right after it asks, “Should someone with a visible tattoo be treated differently?” It really depends on what the tattoo is and where it is located on their body. They may be treated differently if they have a skull and crossbones on their neck or if they have a crazy piercing on their face. There really shouldn't be any clear reason as to why people would treat other people with tattoos differently.

Lynn Monty, Burlington (Vt.) Free Press. "Workplace tattoo taboos fading." USA Today. Gannett Satellite Information Network, 11 Sept. 2014. Web. 10 Mar. 2017.

As tattoos grow in popularity they are gaining acceptance in the workplace. But there are still some employers with rules against visible tattoos, and professions that frown on the trend even though there are no explicit bans (Lynn Monty). About 73 percent of people get their first tattoo between 18 and 22 years of age, and an estimated 40 percent of Millennials have a tattoo, according to a Pew Research Center report (Lynn Monty). When working for a city, your work is based on interactions rather than appearances. The thing that I found was the most interesting about this article was that it had mentioned that employers with chewed fingernails and dark suntans were offered fewer productions than those with tattoos and piercings. Another interesting thing that people should know if they are planning on getting a tattoo on their body is whether or not they think they will regret it because tattoo regret is much more expensive than getting the original tattoo. The cost of removal is much higher than having tattoo inked. A $100 tattoo costs $1,000 to be removed (Lynn Monty). That is basically saying that before you get a tattoo, make sure that you really want it and are not going to be like the 17 percent of the U.S. population in 2013 that regret getting their tattoos. This article is important because it gives me facts rather than just opinions. The first article is kind of just an opinion based article, but this article actually gives me some good, interesting facts. It also gives some examples of a couple people that have tattoos in the workplace and how they do not affect what they do.

Singer, Annie. "Tattoos in the Workplace: The Research Forbes Was Too Lazy To Do." The Huffington Post. TheHuffingtonPost.com, 26 Feb. 2016. Web. 10 Mar. 2017.

There was an article that was posted by Forbes in 2011 that argued that tattoos still have a negative impact on employment, but in 2013, they then said that tattoos were no longer a kiss of death in the workplace. The funny thing is that while these articles were published two years apart and argue the exact opposite points, they support their arguments with the exact same research studies (Singer). Singer then took the liberty of looking into actual academic research on tattoos and employment from the last few years, and came up with some interesting conclusions and stats. She found some key facts when she looked up attitudes towards tattoos in the workplace. She found that 86% of young professionals didn’t think that tattoos and piercings reduce the chance of getting a job and that grooming and business attire is more important in the hiring decision than tattoos and piercings. But, she also found that consumers showed a preference for non-tattooed front-line staff and that visible tattoos had a predominantly negative effect on employment selection. This article is going to be important to my paper because like the last article, it gives some facts, rather than just someones opinion. I will most certainly use both the negative and the positive facts just because what I am going to do is research the negative and the positives sides of tattoos and piercings in the workplace because I know for a fact that there are several people that think the opposite of other people when it comes to tattoos and piercings.

Smith, Jacquelyn. "Here's what hiring managers REALLY think of your tattoos." Business Insider. Business Insider, 05 Jan. 2016. Web. 10 Mar. 2017. With about 45 million people in the US - or 14% of the population - sporting at least one tattoo, ink is finally becoming more accepted by society. However, stigma about tattoos still exists in the workplace (Smith). skinfo.com found that a whopping 37% of HR managers cite tattoos as the third-most likely physical attribute to limit career potential, and there are currently no laws protecting people with tattoos from discrimination in the hiring process (Smith). skinfo.com put together a little picture which highlights everything you need to know about tattoos in the workplace. This picture is going to be extremely helpful to me in my final paper because it gives eery kind of detail about tattoos in the workplace. It gives the good, the bad, and the ugly. The fact that I found to be very interesting was that women are slightly more likely to be tattooed than men, although men are more likely to admit having a tattoo. This picture gives a list of the 36 most tattoo friendly U.S. companies which include, Whole Foods, Best Buy, Kohl’s, Home Depot, Fed Ex, UPS, Applebee’s, Dunkin Donuts, Staples, Amazon, Target, and more. Most of these companies are stores that several people visit everyday, but it never seems like you hear any terrible stories coming from customers that are complaining about the tattoos that people have. Another fact that I found very interesting was that only 3 in 10 human resources managers felt that bad breath and piercings were bigger red flags than visible tattoos. This article is going to be extremely helpful for me to write my final paper mostly because of the picture at the end that describes the good, bad and the ugly about tattoos in the workplace. The picture has plenty of information in it for me to use. This article may be the best one that I have just because of the information that is on the picture. All of the information that I will use in this article will mostly be based off the picture. There are so many facts on this one picture that I could probably write the whole paper based off of just one picture.

[purplejeeplife]

Job interviews today-4-25

Right towards the end of my last post yesterday, I did get a call for one of the friday places and lo and behold I had 2 interviews today. My favorite moment was in my first interview when I told them I’m an introvert and one of the two laughed and said “you don’t seem like an introvert!” Sometimes I might not, depending on who I am with or what I’m doing, but the funny thing is I definitely felt shy and thought it was obvious in the interview that I introverted. I guess it goes to show that how we see ourselves doesn’t always match up with impressions we leave on others. I wasn’t feeling nervous in the interview necessarily, I was just trying to sift through the wheels in my head if it would be a good match for me or not. If you aren’t sure, you have to wonder. It would be a good job and a challenge in a way that I could handle. They stated on the application that they don’t do sales quotas, rather instead they want their employees to focus on proving the best customer service they can, and the sales will follow. I am really impressed with that mindset and told them such. The owner of the company then said that’s how they’ve been running their company from day 1. Which means that when you put helping people as priority over just making money, you can still thrive. In fact, I can’t help but wonder if organizations who place the biggest value on making money wouldn’t do better if they adopted a different mentality. I have worked in positions where making the sales was more important than actually delivering service. Of course they’d say otherwise, but actions speak louder than words. 

Anyway, I felt the second interview went well and I think I will get a call for that postion. It’s a job I am experienced at and is in the travel industry which can be neat to work in. The place seemed really well organized and well run. I actually had an interview at the exact same company but a different location a few days ago in a different city and I didn’t like the energy at all. The place lacked a demanor that spoke it is well attended to. The person who interviewed me today told me they thought I’d be a good fit, and I agreed. They said they would honor my requested pay rate due to my experience, even though they usually start employees at a lower rate. So, here’s hoping that soon I get a call with a job offer. 

Life in the jeep is going smoothly. I parked downtown again last night and had to move once because there was too much foot traffic for me to feel I could cover as stealth. I am getting sleep, but I don’t think it’s deep sleep, because I don’t remember my dreams anymore, and that is way abnormal for me. I miss remembering them because it feels like they are the doorway to a portal of wisdom and knowledge that I now don’t have access to. Maybe it’s time for me to be more fully present in this world and less in metaphysical ones. I recently read the book about the man who quite money, Dan Suelo, and at one point in the book, he said otherworldly visons arn’t necessary and essentially take away from the here and now. I can respect his opinion, but for my own life, what makes it emotionally bearable to be on earth is knowing other dimensions exist where there are beings that do love and care for me. For instance, a family member of mine who passed away 17 years ago. This family member has still shown me signs of love even though they aren’t on earth anymore: without these and signs from other beings, I shudder to know how much more alone I would feel. Feeling alone is something I’m accustomed to as a thirty something who’s never had a relationship or kids. Not even so much as a niece or nephew. I often spend birthdays and holidays alone. I’m not feeling pitty about that [I used to, but my outlook has matured over the years] but I’m just simply pointing out that without love felt from people I know actually love me, even though they have left their human shell, I still feel and know their love. It helps me get through life, and I would have less to hang on to in the absence of this. So, all this to say, I believe otherworldly visions have a very distinct purpose in human life. They help some people in ways that couldn’t be helped any other way. Think of it like this: I have heard in a few trainings to prevent suicide that one suggestion is to help the person find a living reason to hang on for: a child, a pet, a nephew. That little bundle of love, whatever it may be, might help that person to want to keep living, if they focus on what would happen if they did in fact kill themself. Well, some people don’t have a pet or a kid or a nephew, instead they have a dead great aunt that meant the world to them. In some weird way, the reason they can cling onto to keep living in this world is because of their dead great aunt that instilled such inspiration in them. I don’t believe that suicide is morally wrong, but I do believe it is never the best answer. Some people think that killing themselves might get the closer to their dead relative, “reconnecting” with them sooner. But I think this is how it would go:

  dead aunt: “[SHOCKED] What are you doing here so early? What happened? You exited early?” 

An unatural death could be a disruption in the natural cycles. So, one can take the inspiritaion of their dead loved-one and know that love lives forever whether or not the human body happens to be around to throw you a hug or not. And if you’re not receptive to Suelo’s phrase “otherworldy visions”, you might miss it and feel more alone just being on earth without an actual felt support network of humans.

   Anyway, it should be obvious now that I basically feel I have 1 foot in this world and 1 foot in the other dimensions world. I believe the earth is full of so much more than human bodies. Souls and spirits and beings who help us from near and far. Whether you label them as angels, aliens, or spiritual guides, I believe in all of them. One message I got regarding jeep life is that I never alone--I have spirit guides with me able and willing to help, if I’d just remember that more than 5% of the time. I have chosen to read and study less about spirit guides and beings because I found that I’d get so absorbed in the book I was reading that not only would I not want to stop reading, it made earth life feel boring in comparison. I’d say in my head “I want to go where they are, it sounds so fascinating.” Yet according to Delores Cannon, one of her books stated that when souls see earth, they have the same response. I guess the grass is always greener applies to other worlds too. 

I only spent $2 yesterday: one dollar of bulk salad without dressing, and an a pink lady apple. Today so far I’ve only spend $.20, on free ice cream. I had a coupon from another state but i’m in a state with tax so just paid the tax. It was lemon ice cream and I put coconut oil on it too. My meals have been boring lately. Wasabi trail mix, vegan beef jerky sticks, hemp seeds etc. I am about to hit a grocery store to buy a can opener so that I can start implementing canned beans too. I’m going to buy pretzals too, to deep in the unopened peanut butter in my jeep. I prefer sandwiches but making sandwiches in the jeep seems messy. I should waited to buy peanut butter and bread at the same time, but there will always be the little mother hen in me to myself when it comes to having some sort of protein stocked up. Even when I only go on a two hour flight, I always have a bag of food with me ‘just in case.’ Now, of course this is also partly due to stingyness. If I didn’t care where my money goes, I would never buy food and just always eat in airports or anywere I go restaurants. But I just cannot justify spending lots of money in restaurants and especially airports when they money can be added up fast and put towards something like a plane ticket. Heck, sometimes I think to myself “even if I were rich, I wonder if I would still take the bus and not eat in restaurants often just because I know if I did it the cheap way that’s money that can directly to traveling to a new country or something. When I die, I want to have visited as many countries as I could have, not as many restaurants as I could have! 

I have found the perfect place to park my jeep during the day: a park a mile from downtown. I wondered to myself yesterday why that park isn’t full, and I thought “if only people knew this is free, this would be full by 9am!” Then it occured to me, not many people want to walk a mile to and from their car. But for me, I’m walking all the time, like to be in nature and wonder cities on foot anyway. When I’m a traveler, it isn’t unusual for me to be in a new city and just wonder for 5-7 miles in one day. Those marathons I ran came in handy for making 7 miles feel normal and easy compared to 13.1 or 26.2. I don’t plan anything, I just look around and see which direction seems more interesting. Or sometimes I’ll see a building in the distance and decide to follow the path there. This happend once in Europe. I saw a beautiful structure, across the river and a few miles to the left of where I was standing. I had no idea how to get there, so just walked and walked, up hills, around cruise ship, and through neigborhoods following the steeple top. My pace quick as to avoid coming back during dark. It’s fun to wander but sometimes I get myself in shady looking places due to my curiousity. In this case, I was traveling alone overseas. When I finally arrived to the my beloved building, I excitedly asked two women in their golden years standing at the bus stop in front of it what it was...”A retirement home.” 

I was dismayed in a comical way that of all the miles of buildings that picked my interest, it was just an ordinary building that I’d be weird for trying to go in. I’d reckoned maybe it was a museum or church or something tourists could go in. Nope, just a retirement home. I wasn’t disappointed though, because I had my curiousity and had I not followed it, I’d have gotten on the plane knowing I didn’t go find that one intriguing building. The other part about following curiousities is the journey to get there. I winded through neighborhoods and passed local people out on foot that I’d never have seen had I not taken the journey. 

So anyway, it doesn’t really matter what city I am in, I just love to wonder with my feet by what my eyes see as interesting. I mostly travel alone, and I can’t help but wonder who would actually like traveling with me given my habit of wandering. When it comes to real life, I can be a type A with plans. But there’s something different when I’m traveling. If I want a view of nature or buildings and i don’t necessarily know how to get there, I know that by putting one foot in front of the other and keeping my eyes open and alert will get me there regardless of how much time it takes. Sometimes my legs get sore and my feet hurt, but I always can’t shake the thought that once I get back on the plane a few days, I won’t be at that city or place anymore and I want to know I did what I felt compelled to do.     

Now that I’ve found my lucky parking park, I can spend more time writing. Before, I only had 1.5 hours of free parking at the library and then I’d have to go when I’d barely just felt warmed up. Between looking for jobs and writing this blog, more like 3 hours on the computer is what I need to feel I can get everything done that I want. I have a computer that’s my own, but it’s more logistically using the library computer rather than keeping my own in the jeep and lugging it around. 

[Friendly reminder, this is all rough draft. Read the previous post explaining further but the short version is there’s just too much in my head begging to be written and to edit is to sacrifice some of the writing to be released. I’m only writing about half of what’s in my brain, so already feel limited, so editing would limit time even more...yuck.]

[viralhottopics]

In defense of Snapchat, a manifesto

Image: Andrew Harrer/Bloomberg via Getty Images

YeahI’m a business and tech reporter, who reports on social media networks. And in order to do the job correctly, it’s on me to maintain a degree of objective remove. That said: I’m not a reporting robot without ideas, preferences, or a life beyond my gig. And while part of that job also involves spending time on social networks, like all of you, (A) I still do it for fun, and (B) If you looked at my phone, it’d be pretty obvious what my favorite social networks are, and how I spend my time using them.

SEE ALSO: Here’s why all the sudden the banks love Snapchat but still hate Twitter

Here’s a good snapshot:

Which brings us to Facebook, down there, towards the bottom of my usage. They just unleashed their latest attempt to squash Snapchat on Tuesday with Facebook Storiesthe experience of Snapchat Stories, now available on your Facebook News Feed, something nearly 2 billion people could have access to, if you let them. There’s more about that here.

It’s nothing new. Snapchat’s faced down a full-on assault for your attention from Facebook-owned properties, in the forms of Instagram Stories, Messenger Day and WhatsApp Stories, each trying to replicate the very things that make Snapchat, well, Snapchat, but under a different, Facebook-owned app.

Instagram Stories is, thus far, the big winner, with everyone from the network’s most influential creators to its most typical users embracing the feature. Instagram Stories went from 0 to 150 million monthly active users in six months. My colleague, Mashable deputy tech editor Damon Beres, is one of those culprits, and openly admits it (“My #thirst has driven me to abandon Snapchat for Instagram Stories“).

Damon found that “Instagram’s rate of coolness per capita is higher than Snapchat’s. There’s just a bigger audience of interesting people to communicate with on Instagram.”

‘Kay, fine. Fair. But let’s be totally clear: Damon’s saying that he’s Team Instagram because his account is getting what he feels are more highly-valued views.

Thing is, I’m Team Snapchat for the exact same reason.

“Snapchat,” continued Damon, “will likely remain my favorite app for sending incredibly weird things to a handful of close friendsits selection of stickers, face-transforming filters, geolocation tags and so forth.”

And that’s exactly my point, and why Snapchat’s the more valuable of the two appsbecause the mouthbreathing annony-succubi followers of Instagram (especially Damon’s, lol) might be more proliferate, and might be more influential, but I still don’t really know nor care who the fuck any of ’em are.

Snapchat’s where my friends areyes, my real friends. On Facebook and Instagram, I’ll add you as a friend, and you can feel free to stalk my high school photos. I don’t really care. But when it comes to my life, in real-time, in the momentwhat I do every day before work, or after work? That’s on Snapchat.

But when it comes to my life, in real-time, in the moment, when it comes to what I do every day before work, or after work? That’s on Snapchat.

And I’m not inviting you in, unless you gain my trust. It’s kind of like building sources as a journalist: I’m giving you access to my personal life. And yeah, you could take a screenshot of my Snapchat, and share it to the world. And while I’ll know that you did it, it’d be too late to take it back. So as far as my Snapchat’s concerned, you need to be vetted before I let you in.

That’s not to say I’m doing anything too racy and posting it to my Snapchat Story. In fact, that’s another reason why I love the app. For the people that do enjoy seeing it, who I very much trust with my private life, I can send them personal messages. They disappear. And that’s great. They don’t have it saved on their phone because they honestly don’t need it there.

And neither do I.

Shocker: I sext. I’ve sent my fair share of nudes to boyfriends and to others. I’m not ashamed. And if you’re wondering why I don’t just text them, it’s because Snapchat just makes it way more comfortable for us all. Like I said: I don’t need these on my phone, and neither do they. And if they doit happensthey can screenshot. All the more flattery, to be honest.

To be sure, I was once a Snapchat hater, too. One of my best friends tried to convince me to download it in 2012, while I was a sophomore in college. I told her I was too busy with school. Still, I downloaded the app four months later, and I don’t regret it.

To be sure, I was a Snapchat hater too once upon a time.

And while I report on Snapchatas well as other tech companiesfor a living, it’s not reporting on Snapchat that makes me love Snapchat.

What I love about Snapchat is the joy it provides me. I go to Facebook if I want to stalk my ex or a high school classmate. It not funthere’s no real joy in itbut it’s cursory, I do it anyway. I go to Snapchat when I want to genuinely see what my friends are doing. Sure, it creates FOMO; but it’s also an opportunity for me to easily reach out or reply with a funny face or sticker or Bitmoji. It’s a different language, for me and my friends. Not the randos in my life.

And I love Snapchat for the news and the stories it shares. Beyond watching whatever my Snapchat friends are doing, the app (usually) presents me with daily, well-packaged content from media brands, like, say, Mashable’s (Disclosure: Mashable is a Snapchat Discover partner) are enjoyable reads, or tap-throughs.

On Facebook, most of the time, news articles come with obnoxious commentary from friends. My brother-in-law leaves an angry reaction on everything I post (okay, I know, it’s a joke). But: It’s just not fun. If I want to read news through a filtered bubble, I’ll go to my Twitter.

Snapchat’s breaking news coverage is also an incredible product in and of itself. Props to Peter Hamby, Snap’s head of news, for making sure they curate stories with smart news judgment (*cough* Facebook Trending Topics disaster *cough*). It’s pretty inarguable: Snapchat’s got some of the best news coverage on social media.

And the lenses. I know Facebook copied your lenses, Snapchat. But damn, your puppy filter will always bring me joyno matter if Facebook completely mimics it. I’ll never forget the many times I’ve played around with filters with my exes, my best friends, and my mom.

Lenses are fairly new on Snapchat, as in the last two years, but they embody the Snapchat aestheticone they’ve been developing for the last five years.

I’m a confessed, admitted Snapchat fangirlnot unlike those “Apple fanboys” you might be familiar with. Shamelessness goes both ways, guys.

I remember when Snapchat first began selling merchandise branded with Ghostface Chillah (that ghost logo of theirs, who I love, and who you secretly love, too). I immediately requested for everyone to buy me everything. Now, I’m the proud owner of an Official Snapchat Ice Tray. It makes Ghostface Chillah-shaped ice. Which, of course, eventually melts away. Perfect.

Of course I own Spectacles. I carry them in my bag with me everyday. I don’t wear them oftenmostly because I’ve got pretty bad eyesight, and I haven’t gotten prescription lenses because I just don’t want to be separated from my Spectacles for too long.

But I love them. I love wearing them to partiesI Snapped moments of my friend’s wedding. I wore them around Universal Studios. They’re absurd, sure. But they’re also a uniquely fun way to show the world what you’re living through, the moment you’re living through it.

And I absolutely loved their release. Snapbots: Those minion-looking vending machines, dropped in arbitrary locations around the country? They’re fun, dorky, ridiculous, and unique to Snapchat’s strange aesthetic. Instagram and Facebook have rarely had a tangible, real-world presence. Snapchat wants to make itself real in the world off of our phones.

As of this week, there are Stories in the Facebook News Feed. Which brings us back to the elephant in the room where Snapchat’s concerned: Instagram.

And I hate Instagram.

Go to my Instagram feed, which I think is public? Honestly, don’t know, and not gonna check. I love going to my Instagram feed and viewing the posts and Stories of the accounts I follow. Why? Because they’re mostly fluffy puppies. Go check out Chloe the Mini Frenchie and Teddy the Corgi. They’re the reason that I’m a weekly active user of Instagram.

I hate that Instagram is all about the number of likes and followers. I hate the Kardashians.

Instagram isn’t my go-to social network, and I’m pretty confident it never will be. Because, to be quite honest, I hate filtering my life. I hate the vain, highly-styled, carefully-crafted, unsurprising, deliberate nature of it. I hate that it’s a network all about the number of likes and followers. And I hate the Kardashians.

I know Snapchat isn’t perfect. Their racially-insensitive and scientifically-inaccurate lenses are, uh, not a good look. The fact that they don’t really prioritize Android devices and instead cater to iPhone users is just kind of weird at this stage. And I don’t like that they have a weirdly one-way, non-supportive relationship with its creators. I know from speaking to many of the most popular Viner users that this strategy didn’t work out well for themor Vine, either. And of course: Evan Spiegel said some bad shit in college. Snap’s also never released a workplace diversity report, unlike their peers in the tech industry. So, it goes without saying: They’ve got some work to do.

And yeah, at the end of the day, it’s just an app.

But these platforms are also places we’re spending increasing amounts of time in every daythey’re frames that we’re living our lives through, articulating something, creating something, sending some part of us out into the world. And so much more than its contemporaries, Snapchat, if nothing else, stands for things: Authenticity. Spontaneity. And that’s why I love Snapchat. It’s where you’ll find me at my most authentic. It’s where you’ll actually get to know who I really am.

If I let you, of course.

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