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dark-infatuation · 5 years ago

Note

...you know exactly what we came here to ask. - X, Gem & Mun

Yes dear, I am well aware~

1. What’s one animal you wish you could have as a pet but can’t?

Once upon a time, I would’ve said a dragon~ Now, I suppose any sort of big cat. A melanistic lion would be quite magnificent, don’t you think?

2. Favorite thing to wear to sleep?

Usually, it ends up being flannel pajama pants, with or without a shirt, doesn’t matter. But, I do have a set of silk pajamas that feel rather nice

3. What song really gets you going?

That’s a good question. I’m not very up to date with modern music. But the song ‘Endgame’ from the musical Chess is very good.

4. Where do you usually eat your meals?

Preferably, at the kitchen table. Though I do admit I have a habit of sitting on the kitchen island to eat

5. Favorite meal: breakfast, lunch, or dinner?

Breakfast

6. Most embarrassing habit?

Uh, yes, well, I have been disconnected from society for quite some time, and I’m afraid my slang isn’t very up to date. I try not use slang as a general rule, but there are occasions where I can slip and say something that truly shows my age

7. Chocolate or fruity candy?

Chocolate, no question

8. Soft or hard tacos?

Soft

9. Worst way to break up a fight?

Participating in said fight, solves nothing

10. Best thing to say in an elevator of strangers?

Shift a pair of demon horns onto my head and boom “Going down?”

11. What color/design are your bedsheets?

Plain black, though the comforter has a nice black and white patterning I’m not sure how to describe. Swirls mixed with paisley?

12. Any hidden talents?

I don’t think it’s hidden anymore, but I can play the piano quite well

13. Favorite thing to drink out of (mug, glass, etc.)?

Mug

14. Socks or bare feet around the house?

Bare feet

15. Favorite board game?

Monopoly

16. Do you sleep with the fan on or off?

Off, I’m cold enough as is

17. Heat on or keep it cold with lots of layers?

Depends on my mood, but usually ends up being both with how big the manor is

18. Do you sing in the shower?

Yes

19. Favorite song to belt out at the top of your lungs when you’re alone?

......‘Poor Unfortunate Souls’

20. Last thing you cried about?

.....Everything, really. Everything that happened that night.

21. At what age did you first have alcohol?

When we were 7, but it was also a very different time back then.

22. Relationship status?

I’d say I’m taken, wouldn’t you, Xanthias~?

23. What’s the most amount of money you’ve spent on a single item of clothing?

Oh I can end up spending quite a lot on my suits. I think my most expensive one was...somewhere in the $30,000 range?

24. What do you typically wear to formal events?

Suits

25. Favorite memory?

............I’d rather not say. Time has made the moment bitter, but...it had been quite beautiful while it lasted

26. Gum or breath mints?

Mints

27. Favorite shoes?

I don’t have a favorite. I have very few pairs, and all of them are the same.

28. If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be?

The list, my dear, is longer than I’d ever care to admit

29. What is the natural state of your hair?

Usually in my eyes, which is quite annoying

30. Have you ever had braces?

31. Most dangerous thing you’ve ever done?

Go to that stupid party

32. Most embarrassing thing your parents have caught you doing?

Our parents were never around to catch us doing anything

33. Last time you had an orgasm?

This morning, isn’t that right, Xanthias~

34. Celebrity crush(es)?

None, I’m not sure who the modern celebrities are

35. Windows or Mac?

......Pardon?

36. How old were you when you learned to ride a bike?

...I’ll be honest, neither of us ever learned

37. Makeup or natural?

I’ll always prefer a little makeup, no matter the body

38. What color do you wear the most?

Black

39. Favorite season?

Spring

40. Umbrella or rain coat?

Umbrella

41. Have you ever fallen out of a tree?

Yes, quite a few times as a child

42. First car you ever owned?

A Ford Model T

43. What time do you usually go to bed?

That relative

44. Are you a competitive person?

Yes

45. Least favorite color?

I’m not sure I dislike any color, though perhaps yellow

46. First pet you’ve ever owned?

Does Samuel count?

47. Sweet or salty?

Sweet

48. Favorite pasta dish?

Chicken and broccoli alfredo

49. Favorite kind of chips?

Are Pringles still around? I like those

50. Talk about something you’re passionate about.

I -- suppose I’m rather fond of music. I used to hoard records, still do, actually. And I used to write my own songs, for the piano. Never wrote any of them down, however. I didn’t like them to feel so concrete. I liked to experiment with my music

51. What are some of your hobbies?

I...I’m afraid I haven’t allowed any to flourish.

52. Caffeine? If so, what kind?

Coffee or tea

53. Favorite kind of pizza?

I don’t believe I’ve ever had it...?

54. Fast food or sit-down restaurant?

A sit-down restaurant

55. Lots of acquaintances or a handful of close friends?

Close friends

56. Something that ruins your appetite?

In terms of food? Or mannerisms? For food, any type of squash I dislike, and in terms of mannerisms, open-mouthed chewing tends to repulse me

57. Favorite labels about you?

‘Mysterious’, ‘terrifying’, ‘attractive’. I’m aware that’s not the intention of the question, but those are still labels

58. Are you a religious person?

59. Night out with a bunch of friends in public or night in with one friend having deep conversations?

Deep conversations with a friend

60. What size shoe do you wear?

How is this relevant...?

61. Favorite thing about yourself?

I...suppose my charm. It can be quite useful

62. Have you ever told someone you loved them first?

Yes

63. Have you ever had sex on the first date?

Yes

64. Heroes or villains?

Villains

65. Favorite fruit?

Pomegranate

66. Least favorite fruit?

Plum

67. Favorite vegetable?

Broccoli

68. Least favorite vegetable?

...Is squash a vegetable?

69. How many plates can you eat at a buffet?

Usually just one or two, plus a dessert

70. Favorite dessert?

......Admittedly, I will eat virtually anything with chocolate, though those dark chocolates filled with raspberry creme are divine

71. Do you play any sports?

Not at all

72. Age you learned how to swim?

I can’t remember my exact age, but we were children

73. Tell a funny story.

You’ve never seen Damien pine, when we were kids, he had a crush on a boy. His face would get so red whenever he could so much as see this boy, and he’d get that dreamy look on his face, and not watch where he was going, so one tiiiIIIIIIII -- THAT’S ENOUGH

74. What’s one interesting thing about your culture?

My culture? I don’t -- I’m not sure -- I don’t know all that’s happened in the world, I don’t know how culture has possibly changed over the years, I can’t confidently say what would be ‘interesting’ about modern culture

75. What’s one annoying thing about your culture?

......One thing I have a feeling hasn’t changed is that we claim to be inclusive, yet racism and homophobia and hate crimes prevail

76. What job would you be terrible at?

Anything that required a bedside manner

77. Would you rather watch a TV show or a movie?

A movie

78. What’s your favorite compliment to give?

My dear, I am not a pick-up line generator with a sole goal to get into someone’s pants. My compliments, when I give them, are sincere, and vary from person to person

79. What’s your favorite compliment to receive?

I can admit I can be rather vain. Anything complimenting my looks I enjoy

80. Has your opinion changed on something recently?

Technology. It really has come a long way, hasn’t it?

81. Do you always order the same thing at a restaurant or order something different each time?

I tend to be a creature of habit

82. What’s something you’ve always wanted to try but haven’t yet?

Hmm...I’ve always wanted to try and learn to draw. A friend of mine used to be quite good at it, and I’ve always been a little jealous of his seemingly innate skill

83. If you could learn to do anything right now, what would it be?

Switch between male and female bodies myself

84. Favorite physical feature about yourself?

My scar. As painful as it was, it’s quite beautiful, don’t you think?

85. Least favorite physical feature about yourself?

My dear, as a whole I despise this body. It’s not my own, it’s broken, but...it’s all I have

86. What’s one amazing thing you did that nobody was around to see?

I summoned the...thing, that’s in this body with us. Of course, only Damien was around to see it, and it...ended unpleasantly, but it was quite the feat.

87. If you could change your height, would you?

For my female body? Yes, I’d like to make myself a little taller in that form, but I’m quite content with the male body’s height

88. What’s something you would rate 10/10?

Music, any kind

89. Heels or flats?

Heels

90. What’s something you wish you had more knowledge about?

There’s a lot of things I wish I had more knowledge about, the list goes on

91. Would you want to be famous?

I used to be, in a sense. The public eye is quite taxing. Nowadays, I prefer the shadows

92. What’s something you would get arrested for?

Murder

93. What’s your spirit animal?

I’d like to think it’d be a lion

94. What’s the luckiest thing that’s ever happened to you?

You, Xanthias

95. Are you the type to have an organized mess, or no mess at all?

There’s a fine line between ‘organized’ and ‘organized chaos’. It depends which of us is doing the organizing

96. Do you tend to make decisions based on the past, present, or future?

I try to take all into account

97. Are you a planner or a more spontaneous person?

I’d like to say I’m a planner, but history tends to disagree

98. Thoughts on the oxford comma?

A needed grammatical tool

99. What do you hope never changes?

Having other people with me. After experiencing company for the first time in...60 years, I don’t think I could go back to isolation

100. How would you celebrate your 100th birthday?

I’m afraid that’s already come and passed. I can’t even remember my birthday, so undoubtedly it was uneventful, and spent alone.

#wraithik-vampire #Dark

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sign-from-god-complex · 6 years ago

Text

A Gift From Me To You - Chapter 8

Chapter Summary: Virgil works up the courage.

Warnings: Descriptions of bullying even though none is actually occurring, violence mention (though again, not occurring), anxiety attack and general anxious thoughts (this is Virgil after all).

A/N: Just the epilogue left to go!!!! I wrote 75% of this chapter all in one morning and honestly thank god I had cause I would not have been able to get it done otherwise, hahah. Honestly, thank you all so much for reading this fic. It’s been both a joy and a disaster at times, but I’m just so glad people are enjoying it.

AO3 Link // Link to Chapter One! // And Two! // And Three! // And Four! // And Five! // And Six! // And Seven!

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Virgil wandered the hall in an aimless haze. He had a free period last that day and it would be so easy just to go home early like he usually did, leave all this worry for another day, but something was stopping him. Virgil knew he wouldn’t get another chance like this for a week.

He knew where Roman was. And he had an excuse to be there.

Roman shared his last class with Remy—classics, because they’re both geeks, even if neither of them would ever admit it—and they frequently offer Virgil a ride home since he was too anxious to ever get his license. It wouldn’t really be that weird for Virgil to hang around outside the classroom under the guise of asking Remy for a ride and then…

Virgil exhaled sharply.

Then what? Just… go up and talk to him? Roman had never spoken to him before the hallway collision—it was unlikely he would know his name or even recognise him—why in the world would Roman want to talk to him? What if Virgil went up to him and he scowled in disgust? Or laughed in his face? What if he did recognise him and he demanded Virgil repay him somehow for knocking him over in the hallway? What if he got all his friends to force him to the ground and-

Virgil forcibly cut off his train of thought, counting through his quickening breaths. His hands went to tear at his hair but he stopped them halfway, bunching them up in the fabric of his hoodie instead.

Roman had no reason to do those things. Roman had never done those things before, and he had no reason to start now. Roman did not seem upset by Virgil running into him.

Roman was a nice person.

Or at least, for the first time, Virgil hoped he was.

Despite his insistent worries, Remy and Patton’s words were still echoing in his head, strengthening what little resolve he had. It wasn’t fair to keep things like this from his soulmate, no matter how much he wished he could.

He had a choice here, but he knew he had to at least make an effort. He had to try.

He was going to try.

Virgil marched his way down the corridor towards the classics room, hearing the bell echo through the halls as he approached. Kids rushed out of the classroom, pushing and shoving their way out the doors in a desperate attempt to escape and Virgil had to fight to not get swept away with the tide.

“Virge!”

Remy’s voice cut through the crowds of people and Virgil managed to force his way over to greet them, giving a nod to their knowing look.

“He’s still in the classroom. Hasn’t left yet,” Remy smirked, taking a sip of their coffee—and Virgil wasn’t exactly sure where they’d gotten that; the one from this morning must be cold by now—“Want me to introduce you? …Again?”

Virgil laughed but he knew Remy could tell he was losing more and more of his bravado the longer they both stood there. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, I think so.”

Remy grabbed his arm, dragging him into the classroom and Virgil actually felt his heart skip a beat when he caught sight of Roman. He was alone, which Virgil was thankful for. He leant against the edge of his desk as he saw them approach, cutting himself off mid-laugh and hurrying to put away his cellphone.

“Roman,” Remy announced, pulling Virgil to their side in front of him. Virgil had to remind himself to breathe because locking eyes with Roman was overwhelming and more than a little terrifying. “This is my friend Virgil. He has something he needs to talk to you about.”

Roman raised his eyebrows, nodding his head slowly. “Right, okay.”

Virgil cringed into himself, pulling at the sleeves of his hoodie again and ducking his head slightly. He felt a steady hand land on his shoulder and looked up to meet Remy’s gaze.

“Oh, V, you need a ride?”

The posed question seemed casual but Virgil knew it was anything but. This was Remy's way of asking whether he was good to do this alone or whether they needed to hang out with comfort and chocolate in case things went wrong. Virgil gave a small smile; he had such a good best friend.

He placed his hand on top of theirs for a brief moment, tapping his fingers against the back of their hand before pulling back. “Uh, could you maybe wait for like 10 minutes and I’ll let you know?”

“No prob, hon. I’d be happy to,” Remy smiled. It was a genuine one, void of its usual playful nature and filled instead with compassion. It wasn't a smile many got to see—pretty much just himself and Emile—so Roman should count himself lucky.

With one last squeeze of Virgil's shoulder, Remy pulled away, disappearing out the door with a subtle wink.

There was a long moment where neither of them said anything, Virgil fidgeting and averting his eyes and Roman watching him with what Virgil thought was a curious gaze. He hoped it was only curious anyway. He didn’t think too much about it—if he let his mind run away with all the possibilities of what else it could be, Virgil would never work up the courage to say anything.

“Hi…?”

At the words, Virgil looked up, taking in the comforting smile that had graced Roman's face. He tried to ignore the way it made him feel to have that smile directed at him, biting at the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing nervously.

“Uh, hey,” Virgil replied.

Roman's eyes narrowed for a brief moment, before returning to his regular expression. He glanced around the classroom awkwardly. Virgil realised Roman was waiting for him to say something but it was like he'd suddenly forgotten every word he'd ever learnt; he was sure that if he opened his mouth to speak it would have a disastrous outcome.

Clearly given up on waiting, Roman cleared his throat.

“Are you feeling better? You know, after the whole—” Roman waved his hand about generally—“bathroom thing.”

Virgil flushed bright red, panic seizing his chest and crushing all the confidence he had left.

Had Patton spoken to Roman about what Virgil had been freaking out over? Did Roman know that Virgil had his soulmark and hadn’t said anything because he didn't want him? Was he just humouring him now? Giving him hope before shooting him down?

At least this answered the question of whether or not Roman had remembered him, though he honestly wasn’t sure if this was the better of the two outcomes.

The fear must have been obvious on Virgil's face because Roman rushed to assuage him. “Oh! No! Patton didn't tell me what upset you, just that you were upset! He wouldn't do something like that, I swear.”

At the mention of Roman's boyfriend, Virgil felt a spike of guilt shoot through him, but he managed a tight smile nonetheless.

He felt like such an asshole. He was essentially telling someone, “The universe decided your relationship isn’t good enough and instead said you’re destined to spend the rest of your life with me! Someone you’ve spoken to a grand total of one time!”. Yes, Patton may have been the one who'd urged him to go ahead with this in the first place, but he still couldn’t help but feel like he was ruining everything.

Roman tilted his head as he watched Virgil compose himself, studying him, not necessarily unkindly, but still in a way that made Virgil feel vaguely uncomfortable. It was just a little too open for his liking and Virgil drew his hoodie tighter around his body.

“Um, if you don’t mind me asking, what was it that upset you so? It-” Roman scrunched up his face for a moment. “I just feel I made things worse somehow.”

“No!” Virgil yelled, before hesitating. He didn’t want to lie, but there was also no reason for Roman to feel guilt over Virgil’s own shortcomings—him being upset was certainly not his fault, even if he did technically make things worse. “Well, I mean, not… intentionally. Look, it’s complicated.”

Roman shoved himself back so he was sitting on his desk with his legs hanging off the side, swinging back-and-forth. “Well, I’ve got time. If you’re willing to tell me.”

“That was kinda the whole point of coming in the first place,” Virgil muttered under his breath.

Roman furrowed his brow. “What?”

“Nothing. Look, um… I was up… late, last night and something… happened… to me. And I heard—and I guess saw—that it… um, might have happened to you too?”

Okay, that was possibly the least descriptive Virgil had ever been in his life. He winced, pulling his eyes up from the floor to meet Roman’s confused gaze.

“I have no idea what you are talking about right now.”

Virgil deflated. Oh, what the hell. This whole carefully-explaining-every-aspect-of-what-led-you-here thing was agonising, he might as well just get to the point. Band-aid method. He could do this.

Virgil pulled his sleeve back, revealing his soulmark to the cool air of the room. He watched Roman’s eyes widen as his gaze traced over the skin, taking in the sight before him, and Virgil was sure he’d never felt more exposed in his life.

“This,” he admitted finally. He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for sharp words and denials.

But it didn’t happen.

Virgil cracked his eyes open a fraction, watching as Roman stood up from his desk and made his way over towards him. His motions were careful and deliberate as if he was afraid Virgil might run away if he moved too quickly—something he may not be entirely wrong about.

Reaching a point directly in front of him, Roman went to grab Virgil’s wrist and Virgil made no move to stop him. The emotion in his eyes was difficult for Virgil to place, Roman trailing his thumb along the mark, outlining thin borders and bright colours. He could feel his skin tingle at the contact and he tried his best to not let out a sigh. The hard part may be over, but they weren’t done yet.

A quiet, “Oh,” filled the air and that’s all Virgil was able to process before he was being dragged out the door of the classroom.

Shit.

Virgil’s mind immediately kicked into overdrive.

Roman hated him. Roman didn’t believe him. Roman was most definitely going to take him outside to where his friends would be waiting and they’d all laugh at the loser who faked his soulmark to get with his high school crush or worse they’d push him up against the brick wall and scrape his skin along it until he was raw and bleeding they would hurt him they would hurt him he’s in danger he’s in danger he’s in danger-

“This is Virgil.”

Roman’s voice cut through Virgil’s panic and he managed to open his eyes—and when did he close them?—enough to see the silhouettes of two people standing in a semi-circle in front of him. He didn’t recognise them, the sun too bright and his fear too large for him to process anything outside of they were people and they weren’t Remy.

As much as he could right now, Virgil readied himself for mocking words or harsh shoving.

But it didn’t happen.

Instead, he heard a voice say, “Roman! He’s having an anxiety attack!”

The voice sounded familiar but Virgil wasn’t really focusing on that right now because he knew with every fibre in his being that he had to get out of here. He had to find Remy. He had to go home. He couldn’t do this anymore, he couldn’t.

There was the sound of overlapping voices, apologies from Roman and chastisement from one of the others, but Virgil tried to focus on the voice directly in front of him. He could hear reassurances break through the arguing of the other two and although he wanted Remy or his mother or someone familiar, Virgil settled for this.

“You’re not in danger, Virgil,” The voice said softly, “No one’s going to hurt you. You’re safe, you’re alive and you’re okay. You’re okay, honey. It’s okay, I promise. Nothing bad is gonna happen.”

Virgil listened to the voice mutter on as he slowly opened his eyes. He still kept his gaze firmly directed to the ground though, avoiding the harsh or judging stares he was expecting to see. The voice may seem kind, but Virgil knew better than to make any assumption on its character based on that—lots of people he’d met had seemed nice at first, before they’d gotten to know him.

“You’re okay, sweetheart. Everything is okay.” The voice seemed to have a happier note to it now, something brighter, though Virgil didn’t necessarily understand why. “Am I allowed to touch you?”

Virgil thought back to the way Roman had traced over his soulmark, how his skin had prickled and heated at the contact and how he wasn’t sure if he could handle that again right now. He shook his head quickly.

The voice didn’t seem discouraged by that, continuing its whispering until Virgil could finally take a deep breath, look up, and lose all of it again.

Patton.

Of course, it was Patton. Virgil knew this was coming, he knew he’d have to face Patton and let him know that he was the one in the bathroom stall and he was the one who’s boyfriend had the same soulmark as the boy in the bathroom stall, but he wasn’t sure he was ready to do it right now.

Patton's eyes were kind as he recognised Virgil slip back under another wave of panic. “Hey, hey, hey. It’s alright. I promise you, it’s alright.”

And he looked so sincere that Virgil let himself believe it for a second.

He looked around himself properly, taking in the sight of Roman and Logan, who were still arguing. Patton spun around and glared at them for a moment before loudly clearing his throat, causing the two of them to freeze mid-sentence and look over at them.

“Roman,” Patton said, very reminiscent of a disapproving parent, “I think you have someone to apologise to?”

Roman’s reaction was immediate. He rushed his way over to Virgil, dropping to his knees in front of him, much to Virgil’s dismay. He didn’t really need an apology. It wasn’t Roman’s fault that Virgil freaked out, it was just how things were sometimes.

“I am so, so sorry that I didn’t pay enough attention to how you were feeling, my dear. I only hope you can forgive me.”

Virgil winced at the endearment coming out of Roman’s mouth. It sounded so natural—Virgil having heard it a dozen times directed to Patton and even a few jokingly directed to Logan—but at the same time, they’d barely discussed their relationship. Virgil wasn’t sure pet names were a step they’d reached yet.

“Don’t sweat it, Princey, it’s no big deal,” Virgil mumbled, “And do-”

Virgil was interrupted by a gasp from Patton, his eyes wide as he flung his hands up to his mouth in shock. “Anxiety?! Oh my goodness, I’m so proud of you!”

Virgil blinked.

“Proud of me?” he asked incredulously, “Patton, I essentially just told you I’ve had a crush on your boyfriend for years and you’re telling me that you’re proud of me? How can you be so happy about this?!”

“Oh, kiddo…” The look on Patton’s face was pitying, like he knew something Virgil didn’t, but it didn’t last long.

Patton drew the sleeve of his jumper back, revealing a bouquet of daisy-like flowers sitting right there on his wrist. Virgil froze, taking that in for a second, but was startled by Patton elbowing Logan in the side.

Logan scowled at him. “Alright, alright.”

He reached to pull back the sleeve of his button up and… They matched. They all matched.

“Oh.”

It wasn't love at first sight, because that doesn't exist. It wasn't as if Virgil saw the soulmarks on Patton and Logan's wrists and suddenly he realised he'd had feelings for them the whole time because he didn't. He respected them, it would even be fair to say he liked them from a distance, but he didn't feel the same way for them as he did for Roman—and even that he knew, wasn't really love.

But that was all okay.

Because now Virgil could imagine it.

What Virgil felt now wasn't love, but potential. He could imagine movie nights, curled up on the couch, bickering and snuggling and loving each other just the same. He could imagine Roman coming home from work and collapsing directly onto Logan, much to his loud protests, with Patton puttering around the kitchen making dinner. He could imagine date nights with Patton and Roman dragging him and Logan by the hand because "we've been waiting to see this new Disney movie forever".

He could imagine looking up one day—seeing Logan and Patton maneuver around each other as Patton made pancakes and Logan attempted to pour more coffee out of an empty pot, seeing Roman burst in through the door singing his good mornings—and realising he was in love.

He wasn't right now, but that was okay.

Because he could be.

Roman turned his head sharply to look between Patton and Virgil, the expression on his face half disbelieving and half cocky. “Wait, I’m sorry, did you say years?”

Virgil rolled his eyes.

“Yeah,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck, “Since the musical in our second year.”

Roman snapped his fingers and pointed at him, a bright smile on his face. “Oh! I knew you looked familiar! Virgil Moore, right? You ran backstage for a couple of my scenes! You did such a good job!”

Virgil bit his lip, feeling a bit taken aback. He hadn’t actually expected Roman to remember his involvement—it was such a different time.

The musical felt like decades ago, back when his moms weren’t even together yet and Remy was still going by he/him pronouns. So much had changed since then. He had changed so much since then and he wasn’t entirely sure that he wanted Roman remembering the way he had tripped and knocked over half of the set the same way Virgil did basically every time he closed his eyes to go to sleep.

“Uh, yeah-”

Logan interrupted his stuttering acknowledgement. “You are also situated behind me and slightly to the left in our shared chemistry class.”

He blinked. He’d be honest, he wasn’t really expecting some of the most popular people in the school to recognise who he was in almost any capacity. And, woah, his soulmates were some of the most popular people in the school. Virgil shut that train of thought down immediately.

“I, uh, didn’t think you’d noticed me,” he admitted.

Logan raised an eyebrow. “Why would I not have? You’re an incredibly competent individual, even if that friend of yours seems to have a hugely negative influence on your ability to actually pay attention to the lesson.”

Virgil didn’t even have time to process the compliment as at the reminder of his best friend, he blanched.

“Oh, shit! Remy! Can I…?” He gestured with his hand over to the parking lot. Patton must have realised they were waiting for him, despite not being there to witness the conversation, as he gave a bright smile.

“We’ll wait for you here,” he answered, “I can drive us all back to Roman’s after. I think we have a lot to talk about.”

Powerwalking his way over towards the parking lot, Virgil spotted Remy’s car stationed towards the front, eclipsed by the shade of the building. He pulled the door open and threw himself into the passenger seat, watching as Remy jumped so high they almost hit their head on the roof of the car.

“Jesus, fuck, Virge, you scared the everloving shit out of me!” they exclaimed, breathless.

Virgil just grinned, unable to hold back now that the reality of the situation was finally sinking in. He had 3 soulmates. They liked him. Holy shit, they actually liked him.

He had a future with them—a future where he didn’t have to worry about overstaying his welcome or overstating his importance, a future where he was accepted and loved for the person he was, a future where he truly was good enough.

There was still a voice in the back of his mind telling him it was too good to be true, but Virgil pushed it back. He wasn’t going to let any more anxiety ruin this day for him.

He could feel himself tearing up slightly as he spoke. “They’re all my soulmates, Rem. Roman, Logan and Patton. All of them.”

Remy’s eyes widened as they turned in their seat to face him. “Oh, holy shit, gurl! You hit the jackpot!”

Virgil laughed—he knew it sounded slightly hysterical but he was mostly past the point of caring.

“Yeah, I, uh-” He cut himself off with another laugh, launching himself across the middle of the car to wrap his arms around Remy’s shoulders. It was kind of uncomfortable but Virgil wasn’t focused on that, trying instead to somehow form a coherent thought among all of the chaos that filled his mind.

“Thank you.”

Remy shook their head, pulling back to look at him properly and it was so similar to that day all those years ago—Remy looking him firmly in the eyes and telling him everything his emotional mess of a self needed to hear.

“There’s no need to thank me, V. I might have given you a little push, but actually working up the courage to tell them? That was all you. You did it.”

Virgil beamed and he was definitely crying and it was so stupid but he was so happy.

“I did it.”

He took a moment to get himself together, trying to stop the tears that continued to make their way out, clinging to his eyelashes and dropping onto his shirt. Eventually, he managed to calm down enough to breathe properly again, giving Remy a small smile which they returned effortlessly.

“So, am I driving you home?” they asked, swinging their keys around their finger.

Virgil shook his head. “Nah, Patton said he’s gonna take us back to Roman’s so we can work some stuff out. But… thank you for staying.”

“Anytime, hon.”

Virgil took a steadying breath as he stepped out of the car, preparing himself to head back to his soulmates. Before he closed the door, however, Virgil leant down and poked his head in one last time.

“Remy?” They looked up from where they were inserting in their keys to glance over at him. “You are the best best friend that I could have ever had. And you might not be my soulmate, but you mean just as much to me as they do. You know that, right?”

“Yeah, V,” Remy smiled, “I love you too.”

————————————————

Epilogue

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Tag list: @bunny222 @jadedfantasies231 @221b-quote @reinefandoms @i-really-dig-the-purple @bionic-egypt @not-so-innocent-bi-sander @mistress-jinx09 @soijusthavetoask @marshmallow-the-panda @the-writersblock @theunoriginaldaisy @therubyjailcell @sandersfandersblog @hghrules @that-smol-tired-gay @sanders-sides-stuff @inan-sanders @frogdog145 @follow-pheonix-inside @forestwulf @coloursintheblur @cosmic-melodies

General tag list: @mutechild @super-magical-wizard <3

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #lamp/calm #virgil sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #ts sleep #platonic sleepxiety #lo can write

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madrut16 · 5 years ago

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Day 6: Inherited (July Fanfic Challenge)

Author’s Note: I was going to post this late last night but, I ended up losing a portion of what I’d written so, I had to redo it and this is the final product. I’m super excited to share my spin on Bloodkeepers and my ideal version of how Gaius would be defeated which will come as later fics.

Book/Pairing: Bloodbound (Adrian x MC)

Rating: PG

Summary: After escaping the Order, Isabel turns to her grandmother Ginny for a place for the three of them to stay and ends up learning that there’s more to being a Bloodkeeper than Jameson let on.

@endlesshero1122 @kinda-iconic @desiree-0816 @choicesfannatalie @krishu213 @choices97 @jlpplays1 @riseandshinelittleblossom @brightpinkpeppercorn @ladykateofhousebeaumont @shelley-parah @tabithacarlisle

“We’re almost there,” Isabel announced, turning onto the right street according to her hand-written directions.

The twinkling soft glow of the city lights had a calming effect on her as they made their way through Paris, and she desperately wanted to take her time, marveling at the blend of old and new being illuminated so beautifully. But, unlike the first night, there was no time for sightseeing now that the Order had made their presence known. They had narrowly escaped Seraphine's club and made a quick stop to the apartment where they were instructed to collect their things and find somewhere else for refuge.

"I wish you could stay here," she had told them, still traumatized from yet another raid that could have been fatal. "But, I can't have them track us here. Which with you three, it makes it so much harder. I'm sorry."

Adrian had given her a reassuring smile, but it didn't quite meet his eyes. They all wore a similar haunted expression. "It's alright. I know you need to look out for yourself. We'll find someplace to stay, right?"

He turned to Isabel who had a thoughtful look on her face. "What?"

"I know someone here. A human. We had been so busy, I didn't think we'd have time to stop and visit but now...she might be our only option. Do you have a phone that I can borrow?"

Seraphine nodded. "Yes, there's a burner phone I keep in here for that purpose."

She quickly gave her the flip phone and Isabel wasted no time dialing the right person.

"Ginny? Hi, it's Isabel. Yeah, actually I'm in Paris with Adrian and a friend of ours. It was last minute. Look, I need a favor. We're, um, in a bit of a situation and we need to lay low for a while, can we stay with you?"

She watched Adrian's eyes flicker in recognition at the name. From all of the stories she told him, it was practically etched into his mind now. Meanwhile, Jax looked on in confusion.

A relieved smile blossomed on her face. "It will be, thank you. You're sure it's okay? Well, we'll be over there shortly then. Let me write it down." She found a pen and a piece of paper where she hastily wrote down the address and directions. After a minute more of conversation, she hung up.

"Who was that?" Jax asked, his eyebrows knitted.

Isabel exchanged a look with Adrian. "My grandmother."

And that's how they found themselves cautiously walking through the streets to their next destination, hoping, praying that the Order wasn't close by.

“Are you sure we should do this?” Jax grumbled, folding his arms warily.

She noticed that he’d been particularly apprehensive ever since the Order had come through those doors. It would be strange if they weren't all untrusting at the moment. But it was even more severe for their cynical friend.

She gave him a confident nod. “Yes. We’ll be much safer staying with Ginny than in a hotel. Plus, it’ll be much less of a hassle if we’re here long term.”

“And you’re sure she’ll let us stay?” He raised an eyebrow skeptically.

“Positive. She already knows that we’re coming. She’s happy to host us for as long as we’re here.”

Adrian flashed her a tired smile. “Resourceful as ever.”

Even though he didn’t age, she could see that the return of Gaius had taken a toll on him. She knew that he still felt awful about losing the fight against him. But there would ultimately be another one, and hopefully, they would be more prepared when that time finally came.

“I just wasn’t comfortable staying anywhere else, with the Order having a lot of resources,” she told him with a shrug she didn’t really mean. "And...if Gaius's ambitions are as high as I think they are, he might try to find us here too."

Jax’s face visibly paled and he uttered a few curse words. “Great, as if we needed more to worry about."

They soon stopped in front of a plain looking brownstone, and Isabel let out an excited sigh. “It’s just like I pictured. Come on, she should be waiting up for us.”

With new energy, she climbed up the small set of stairs. Shortly after she knocked on the front door, it opened to reveal a curvy older woman, still dolled up in her colorful clothes and a natural makeup look that fit her nicely. Even though she was 75, she looked several years younger. The resemblance between her and Isabel was immediate. The main difference between them being the darker complexion and eye color she received from her father.

Upon seeing them, a luminous smile appeared on the woman’s aging features. “Isabel, my child!” she squished her into a loving hug. “How I’ve missed you.”

She let go when Isabel gasped from lack of air. However, she was used to her grandmother’s over the top affection by now and recovered almost immediately.

“I’ve missed you too. Sorry for the short notice but, we’re in quite a unique situation.”

“That’s alright, you’re my grandchild,” she gushed in her carefree manner. Her personality was definitely still as youthful and lively as ever. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. Besides, there’s more house than I know what to do with, so the more the merrier.”

They were swiftly shown inside the older home’s cozy living room. The place seemed small but its height made up for the lack of width.

Then, Isabel remembered that she still had introductions to make. “Oh! Before I forget, Jax, Adrian this is Ginny, my grandmother,” she said. “Jax is a friend of mine, he’s…an activist for some of the less fortunate in New York.”

“Is that so? How wonderful,” Ginny gushed.

He narrowed his eyes at her about the description and she shrugged. How else was she supposed to describe what he did without giving him away?

“That’s right,” he said, quickly rolling with it. “It’s, um, nice to meet you.”

Luckily for him, she didn’t seem to pick up on his hesitation, immediately shaking his hand. “And you too. You’ll have to tell me all about your work.”

With one person down, she turned to the one she'd been wanting to make for a few months. Granted, she didn't think it would be in this context.

"Moving on, I've already told you about Adrian," Isabel said. When she glanced over not hearing him, she paused once she saw his face frozen in surprise, almost spellbound. "Adrian?"

Finally, his shock was replaced with a warm, genuine smile. "Virginia Duplerier, well I'll be damned."

"I wasn't sure if you'd recognize me, it has been a while," Ginny responded.

Isabel blinked at them in confused shock. "Wait, you two know each other?!"

"She used to work for me as a secretary, back in the sixties when Raines' Corps was just starting to grow," Adrian answered with an amused chuckle. "And of course I remember you, even back then you were pretty hard to forget. I should've connected the dots sooner."

"You didn't know?" Jax whispered, not sure what to make of this development. Isabel shook her head.

She turned to Ginny. "Why didn't you say anything when I told you about us?" A surreal feeling overwhelmed her. It wasn't a common thing for your grandmother to have worked for the same person you do. Or currently dating. For it to be both was truly unthinkable.

The eclectic woman smiled at her cheekily. "I wanted it to be a surprise."

"You certainly love those." Another connection soon formed in Isabel's overachieving mind. "Wait, does that mean that you know that...he's…"

"A vampire yes," Ginny said with a laugh. "I see Adrian is still just as bad at keeping it a secret."

The skin between her granddaughter's brows creased. "I thought I was the first to decline being debriefed."

"You are," he told her. "Virginia was brought in the same way Nicole was. Deliberately. I thought that she could be useful and that she was ready to know our secrets. And like you, she certainly didn't disappoint."

"Well, I guess I should tell you that I'm one as well," Jax said hesitantly. "I was the Clanless leader until--"

He was interrupted by Ginny. "Oh yes, I know who you are. You're the one who replaced Vega, aren't you?"

"Wha--how do you know?"

Adrian was the one who answered. "She's always been rather perspective."

"Also, I help out the vampires here in Paris, keep them hidden from the Order. News from New York travels fast, even across the ocean," she elaborated. "I'm assuming you're on the run from them?"

Jax's mouth fell open in shock before he let out a long whistle. "Small world."

"Yes, indeed. Would you like to sit down and relax, have a drink?"

Isabel shared a knowing look with her vampire companions. They definitely didn't need any more alcohol, having just sobered up from their time in the club.

"Do you have coffee?" she asked instead as they sat on the couch.

"Of course darling. And you two?"

They both agreed to have the same. Once the hot beverages were served, the time seemed to fly by as the lighthearted conversation and storytelling flowed freely. Then, Adrian filled her in on the developments in New York.

“I can’t say I’m surprised. It’s a shame about Lester though, he wasn’t my favorite person but...at least he was loyal,” Ginny sighed, then her gaze fixed on Isabel’s, inquisitive and thoughtful.

"Something on your mind, Ginny?" she wondered out loud.

Her grandmother gave her a secretive half-smile. "Ah, I see you're perceptive as ever. I've just been thinking about you and you're natural...astuteness." She then posed a question of her own. "Tell me, has anything...weird happened to you lately?"

"Define weird…"

Ginny sighed, the wheels turning in her mind. Finally, she inquired, "Have you seen anything inside your mind, like a vision? Or are there any blank spots in your memory? Like you know you've seen something but you don't know what?"

Isabel was taken aback by the specificness of her questions.

Suddenly, her mind flashed back to when Jameson pulled that memory out of her in the museum and the search for the Book of the Blood in her mind. Those certainly seemed like they would count. She then recalled that he mentioned something about leaving fragments and she connected that to all of the instances she couldn't explain, like at Priya's club all those nights ago. How she was upright one minute and then something caught her eye and the next thing she knew, she was on the ground next to the bar feeling like she'd been drugged.

And then, she remembered the memory of the cabin and the pain it had caused, almost like electricity was inside of her. There was also the painting in the tomb earlier that night. Closing her eyes, the scene consumed her once more.

She came out of it with a violent jolt. “Actually, I have.” She relayed her thoughts to the group.

Adrian frowned in concern, placing a hand over hers. “You didn’t tell me about any fragments. And when I had found you in the club, you seemed fine to me.”

"I never noticed anything down in the ruins either," Jax added, also becoming slightly agitated.

Isabel shrugged. “With the paintings, the feeling wears off quickly and they didn’t hurt, not like the memory I saw of your family Adrian. The others are much less painful, only a weird tingling sensation.”

She looked over at Ginny whose expression was one of wonder and light, her blue eyes sparkling.

The elderly woman grasped her hand. "So it's what I thought. You are one of us," she murmured in excitement.

"What?"

Ginny stood up tugging on her arm. "Come, Isabel," she urged. "There's something I want to show you." She turned to the two men staring at her in shock. "You two can come too, I believe that this will be useful for all of you."

They look at each other in confusion and Isabel shrugged. “I can’t say I’m not curious.”

“So am I,” Adrian said, his lips turning up in amusement. “You weren’t exaggerating about her.”

Jax muttered in reluctance but stood up also. They followed her up the creaky stairs to the top floor, which had two rooms and one narrow hallway separating them.

“Ginny?” Isabel asked once they reached one of the closed doors.

“Remember the attic from my house in Georgia? This is where I'm keeping my special collection now. "

Her granddaughter's face lit up in recognition. "You never let us go in there. That was the one place that was off limits."

"I know. That’s because you weren’t ready yet. Now, darling, based on what you’ve told me, you definitely are.”

They followed her inside and Isabel gasped, stopping a few feet inside.

“Woah.”

Her curious gaze floated around the old-fashioned library appreciatively. However, she could immediately tell that this one was special.

"Are these all…?" Adrian asked, picking up on the peculiar content as well.

Ginny confirmed with a nod what they all saw. All of the books and objects were of the dark and supernatural variety.

“I knew you were into this stuff, but I didn’t know you were this obsessed,” she marveled.

Jax had already gravitated towards a particular corner. “Wait, you have a whole section on vampires?” he wondered in awed amazement.

He wasn't regretting coming up with them now.

“Yes,” Ginny replied. “I have the most information on your kind. Especially first-hand accounts I’ve collected over the years.”

Isabel felt a magnetic-like pull towards that part as well and she skimmed the rows of books and scrolls of centuries-old parchment, some may have been millennia old. "Are you documenting the entire history of vampires or something?"

Her question was meant to be a joke but, her surprise Ginny nodded.

"Trying to."

Several minutes later, her attention gravitated towards what appeared to be a closet in another corner of the room.

“What’s in here?”

“Ah, that, my darling, is what I’ve brought you here to see,” her grandmother replied, at her side impossibly fast. “Go inside.”

At her urging, Isabel turned the knob and as she entered, she stopped in her tracks. This wasn't a closet, but a secret room.

“Guys, come look at this!” she exclaimed, and Adrian and Jax quickly joined the two in the small space.

“This is…rather interesting.” Adrian mused.

It looked perfectly normal with a casual glance—just another array of bookshelves and a desk with a decade old computer. But then, as her eyes focused on the smaller details, she noticed that the room’s surface level appearance was deceiving.

Almost all of the titles on the shelves lining two of the walls are in Latin. Although she studied the language in high school, she could barely decipher it now. A particular set of thick volumes caught her attention and she walked over, picking one of them up and immediately groaning due to the weight.

“Whoa, these are heavy. Is this made of gold?” she joked, having to hold it with both hands. Then, her eyes drifted towards the title of the volume. “….Abscondita in lucem. What is this, an encyclopedia of some sort?”

Ginny was by her side in seconds. “Yes, my child. Of us, and our gift. I believe an acquaintance of yours might have said something about it already.”

Isabel looked at her in confusion until she quickly realized what she was alluding to. “Scholar Jameson?” she gaped, flicking a glance at an equally shocked Adrian.

“Oh yes, I know of him all too well. He was running that museum even back in the sixties and we had many encounters while I worked for Adrian,” her grandmother commented, with a frown. “I never liked him from the start, he was too charming, it was too much to be genuine. There had to be an ulterior motive. Oh, how right I was. He and his stupid fragments.”

Everything she said resonated with Isabel. Suddenly, she gasped, her eyes widening. “Wait, you're...you're a Bloodkeeper too?!”

“Yes, Isabel. In fact, it's a part of our DNA. We’re a part of a long line of them since ancient times. However, it’s very difficult to trace because it only passes through our maternal lines. Last names change, generations can skip. The lineages even split off into three distant branches around the 1600s. Every generation one is born from each, that’s one thing Jameson didn’t quite get right about us."

The large family tree hanging on the wall above the desk suddenly made a lot of sense now.

A sense of dread suddenly came over Isabel, reading her grandmother’s body language. "Wait, about Jameson, did he do something to you?"

A haunted expression clouded the woman's face, startling her. It was the first time she'd seen her grandmother unnerved by anything.

“Yes, he used me to get to those instructions for how to open the sarcophagus," Ginny sighed before her voice hardened. "Tried to get me to join their cause too, become a spy for them. He even offered to Turn me despite it being forbidden. I of course refused but, by then it was already too late. He already took what he wanted."

It was eerily similar to what he did to Isabel and she shuddered.

Meanwhile, a look of painful realization hit Adrian. "Wait, Ginny, was he the reason you quit? I had a feeling something had unnerved you."

She nodded after a brief pause. "I thought that was the only thing I could do. I couldn't control my memories or who could get a hold of them. I felt like I was a failure at my job because I couldn't stop him from using me. I was scared that he would keep doing it, that having me around was doing more harm than good. So, I left. I went to Georgia with Lori, your mother Isabel."

The account sank into all of them, the invisible weight thickening the air in the room.

"Why...why didn't you say anything? If I had known, I could've done something, prevented what's occurred now," Adrian wondered, this truth once again a painful one for him.

There was a dry scoff, the anger still palpable. "No, Jameson was a determined fellow. He would've found a way to get what he wanted, deliver for his master with or without my involuntary help. It just might have taken a little longer." She shook her head. "He told me all about the justification, how all humans were evil and inferior. But, they've become just as intolerable as the Order has."

"So, he wasn't telling the whole truth?" Isabel said, her voice rising. "The only information he gave me was the memories part and how weak and frail I was."

"Oh no, that was the same thing he told me. But, I had a feeling that it wasn't the full story. After about five years after leaving New York, I finally acted on my suspicions and guilt," Ginny explained. "I wanted to make sure that the generations after me learned to control and use it. Finished what I couldn't."

Her grandmother's message was well received. "Meaning...me."

She was met with another nod. "Ever since I've been collecting these, searching for the truth. And I've largely found it, thanks to my grandmother who was the one from our branch before us and to members of the others who had these."

"But, we're still human."

"Well yes." Then a knowing smile. "But so are vampires. It's funny how Gaius despises us and ordinary people so much but ignores the fact that he’s one too.”

This was news to both Isabel and the two vampires in the room.

"What?" Jax's eyes widened.

Ginny commented with a raised eyebrow. "I'm assuming Gaius and your maker never mentioned that detail."

He and Adrian confirmed this with their confused stares.

Then she explained, "Yes, vampires are all biologically human. You are, Gaius is, even Rheya was after her transformation. We're just different kinds of humans. While ordinary people and Bloodkeepers are born from life, you are created. When someone is Turned, it causes a permanent change in certain parts of their DNA."

"Adrian…" Isabel met his gaze. She knew how much this information would mean to him.

"Ginny, how--? You're serious?" He stammered in disbelief.

The woman's smile widened. "Of course I am Adrian. But don't take it from me, read it for yourself. One of the books in there is the Biology of Supernatural Humans. There's a whole chapter on vampires. Also, if Tony is still in charge of your lab, you can ask him. I had him confirm it for me back...oh...sometime in the nineties I believe?"

His open mouth quickly changed to a radiant smile. "I'll... I'll have to do that."

Ginny's inquisitive eyes flicked between him and Isabel, then they settled as if she had decided something. "Actually, you and Jax can have a look now while I take Isabel and show her the room across the hall."

Her granddaughter caught on to her motives somewhat. Whatever she wanted her to see or do, she didn't want them to know for some reason.

She gave Adrian a questioning look, a silent conversation between them.

"Go ahead," he told her with a smile.

She could tell he was curious about what they were about to do, but he wasn't going to act on it. With that, they walked out of the secret room and she followed Ginny out into the hall.

"What's this room for?" She asked.

Her question was answered while her grandmother unlocked the door. "This is completely dedicated to Bloodkeepers. Specifically, to learn about our powers and training to use them."

Stepping inside the larger space, Isabel could tell this purpose almost immediately, her mouth falling open in a silent gasp. The floor was covered in a wrestling mat and was mostly clear minus the fighting equipment and targets. Hugging the walls were several storage bins and shelves.

Then, her gaze fixed on a particular corner. Approaching it, her eyes widened looking in the canvas bins.

"What the--?" she exclaimed, taking in the various knives, daggers, and other weapons inside. "Is this for close combat?"

"Yes. You see, Isabel, our ability to see memories is only one of many abilities Bloodkeepers possess," Ginny said. She gestured to the volume of Arcana Imperii in her hands. "Open it to page 5, it lists them all."

Doing as she was told, Isabel frowned. "This is all in Latin. I can't read this!"

"I think you can. You just need to concentrate on the words. It should come to you."

She pursed her lips skeptically but followed her directions, staring at the fading black ink. After a few tries, the words were suddenly understandable. It was as if she had a built-in translator.

"How--? This is amazing?!"

"It's one of our active powers, meaning they're always present once you've come into contact with a vampire or you turn 25, whichever comes first. You should have experienced these by now."

Isabel read down the list and they all were familiar to her. Now her high intellect and intuition made much more sense, and why she was always so good at track and dance. There was one that confused her though.

"Enhanced senses?" she asked.

"You haven't smelled things really well? Heard things from far away?"

The feral attack. She had heard that woman scream from the edge of Central Park Adrian had. On the opposite end.

"Actually, I have. I just didn't think anything of it before," she replied. Then she saw the next subheading. "Dormant powers?"

"These aren't automatic, they need to be summoned or turned on and off with a Latin phrase: ab origine, ab antiquo, ab aeterno."

The translation immediately came to Isabel. From the origin, from the ancient, from the eternal.

She went through the list out loud. "Heightened speed and agility even more than active ability...increased strength...electricity attacks and white light manipulation?!"

Her breath caught at the last two, piquing her interest. "What are these?"

"They both come from the same concept and they have their own summon on top of the main one," Ginny answered. "We have this innate energy in us which comes from our original purpose. This manifests itself in these two power categories. White light is the use of the powers of light for good purposes, including healing abilities and negating mind control."

"And electricity attacks?"

"They're another power to be used while fighting. Methods include hand blasts, lightning projection, and the one way the purest of vampires can be slain, lightning infusion of these." She gestured to the bins in front of them.

"Wait," Isabel said, the underlying message becoming clear as day. "Are you saying that...I'm the only one who can kill Gaius now?"

"You are as far as I know," Ginny told her. "I'm far too old to use mine for more than training and research."

Her mind was reeling from the influx of information. But, she also was starting to feel elated, empowered. She wasn't a burden to the group after all. She belonged with them.

"Why can't the others know about this?" she wondered, referring to the men in the other room. "Wouldn't this be beneficial for them to hear too."

Her grandmother gave her a smile. "Jax as long as he's trustworthy I don't see a problem with you telling now. In fact, he could be very useful in helping with your physical training."

"What about Adrian?"

"I see the way he looks at you, I can tell how protective he is," Ginny admitted. "And while that's a good thing and I'm glad you're with him. I fear that he might not let you do this. The process is risky and in a stressful situation like a battle with Gaius, if you're not prepared, it could malfunction or not work, putting you in danger. Especially because the infusion needs close contact to be effective. But, there might not be another option now that he's consumed Rheya's blood. Adrian can find out eventually, but not before you're fully trained."

Isabel couldn't argue with that, remembering how she had to physically push him away from the battle back in New York.

She bit her lip. "What would...all of this training entail exactly?"

"Well, we would have to spend several hours each day to get you to full potential in such a short time. I will warn you it will be draining for you, it is a weakness that comes with our gift, especially since it won't be spread out like is recommended. That's why I won't make you do this if you don't want to, I'll help you three find another way. It's up to you."

Isabel closed her eyes and processed the choice in front of her. It would be dangerous and a lot of pressure placed upon her shoulders. She also hated the thought of keeping such a big thing hidden from Adrian. But, just like when she decided to keep her knowledge all those months ago, she felt a sense of purpose, a calling.

After all of the years of people telling her she wasn't good enough and that she had to depend on others, she had the chance to take control of her own story. To have the opportunity to fight herself, to be the one protecting others all while fulfilling her desire to do good, shape a better, peaceful world, it was liberating.

This is was something she was meant to do.

"I'll do it," she said decisively.

"You will?"

Isabel nodded, a smile forming. "I'm a fighter, Ginny, this is what I want. I can handle the responsibility."

Ginny looked at her granddaughter, a world of possibilities and hope in her eyes. "I was hoping you'd say that. We'll get started later this afternoon, I want you to get some sleep beforehand."

"Okay."

She knew that coming here would be the right decision, that Ginny would be helpful. She just hadn't anticipated that she would provide the answers Isabel needed the most. She wasn’t going to let her down.

#playchoices #choices stories you play #choices july challenge #bloodbound #adrian x mc #adrian x isabel #adrian raines #bloodbound 2

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crowkingwrites · 6 years ago

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Battle of the Bands (Ch.5)

Pairing: Robb Stark x Reader, Jon Snow x Reader, Viserys Targaryen x Reader, Ramsay Bolton X Reader

Summary: You just moved into the city for the first tie all by yourself. After you get your dream summer job working for a small magazine, you find yourself in the middle of the city’s rock festival: Battle of the Bands. Local rock bands throughout the city compete to win a record deal that could change their lives. Your job? Get close to them and write about them online.A single girl in the city surrounded by rocker boys during the summertime. What could possibly go wrong?

Words: 2714 // AO3 Link

Chapter One // Chapter Two // Chapter Three // Chapter Four

You stood in line for elephant ear, and the smell of the cinnamon and sugar were teasing you. Every time you stepped closer the smell grew stronger. As if the booth was giving you a preview of what was to come. You watched a teenage couple walk away with their own treat. You wished you were a worse person so you could steal theirs and feel no guilt about it.

Once you reached the front of the booth, you placed your order and within moments you had your own elephant ear in your hands. The dough was the size of a small country. The cinnamon and sugar left your mouth salivating. You tasted it. All of the sweetness melted in your mouth and you wondered why vegetables even existed. Why eat healthy when you could live off of elephant ears?

You heard music from both sides of the festival, but you didn’t feel like going to any concerts with your hands full of dough and sugar. That’s when the idea smacked you in the face.

Renly had spent last year writing about the music and bands. Some gained fame from his writings. But, there was also local food and local artists here as well. Selling their food and art to everyone. They equally sent their time working hard for this festival. They should be known too.

Everywhere around you had different booths filled with either food, art, or a charity or two who wanted to be known. Some had lines, others had one or two people wandering around. You stood in front of another menu staring at the chalk and the impressive handwriting you wouldn’t even try to copy. You ordered something more savory. A chicken parm sandwich warmed your hands and your heart while you ate it. You felt your phone vibrate, but you ignored it. Between bites, you wrote notes and possible questions to ask them later. As you took your last bite, your eyes glazed over two young men hovering next to a homemade lemonade booth.

As you got closer, one of them started to look familiar.

“Y/N? Y/N! Hey! Come here!” Viserys shouted out to you. His hand waved in the air, beckoning you to come to him. Once you reached him, he offered you his lemonade. You sipped it without question. After a big gulp, you cringed and stepped back.

“What is that?!” you exclaimed.

“It’s vodka. Vodka and lemonade.” Viserys chuckled. His friend started to laugh too. You took another look at him and recognized the dark curls, blue eyes, and cocky smile.

“You’re that guy. The Bastard guy.” You told him.

“Bastard guy,” Viserys chuckled. His friend pushed him.

“It’s Ramsay. I’m not a real bastard,” Ramsay explained. Viserys snorted and took another sip of his alcoholic concoction. “Some people claim I’m a bastard. I just think I’m an asshole.”

“It’s alright. I get along with both bastards and assholes.”

“She does,” Viserys added. He winked and then gave Ramsay a look.

“Wait, is this the girl you told me about?” Ramsay asked, pointing to you.

“What?” You reacted, smiling at Viserys. “You talking about me?”

“I may be talking about you. I told Ramsay I knew the girl he kissed the first night he performed.” Your face turned red.

“So that was you?” Ramsay smiled. After you nodded, Ramsay kept talking. “You’re a good kisser.”

“Thank you,” you smiled to yourself. If someone came to you last summer and told you that you’d be hanging out with two lead singers from rock bands and that you had kissed both of them, you would slap the shit out of that someone. But here you were. Standing in between them like you were the meat of the hottie sandwich.

“So, who are you interviewing today? Someone appropriate for the boss?” Viserys said. You shook your head.

“I told you. He doesn’t tell me what to do. Besides, I’m not interviewing. I’m eating.”

“What? Are you off today?”

“No,” you said. “I’m doing a piece on the fest’s food and art.” You felt your phone vibrate again, and you ignored it again.

“Wait,” Ramsay held his hands up. “You’re gonna spend all day eating and drinking and then write about it?”

“Basically yeah.”

Without another beat, Ramsay nodded his head. “I’m fucking in.”

“Me too,” Viserys quickly said afterward. He nodded his head to the lemonade booth. “They got different flavors here. Some with alcohol, some with actual fruit. You looked at the menu more, enticed by Viserys�� endorsement. The selection between fruit and alcohol and twists on normal lemonade made your decision overwhelming. Until you saw them making frozen strawberry lemonade.

You carried the cold drink in your hands while the boys and you wandered at different booths. The first booth carried homemade soaps and beauty products. The smells of oatmeal, lavender, and mint tickled your nose each time you smelled a different soap. You interviewed the owner who was more than happy to answer any question you had. He gave you and the boys free samples of new products he was going to try.

While you waited with Ramsay, Viserys went to the bathroom after the third alcoholic he had that day. Your phone vibrated again. This time you checked it. Robb’s name showed up. You explained your piece to him and put your phone away.

“He was like this on tour too,” Ramsay commented to you. “Drinking and then pissing. Drinking more. Pissing more. Then he would sing. Then drank and pissed more.”

“Well, at least he’s good at three things,” you shrugged and then laughed with Ramsay. His laughter faded while yours continued.

“You know you’re really cute,” Ramsay said. “I kind of regretted that kiss at first, but I really don’t now.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. What about you?”

You hadn’t really thought about it. It was a spontaneous kiss. You thought you would never see him again or know his name. Then again, you felt a pull to him. Like he was something terrible and you wanted more of it no matter how bad it was for you.

“If I had to be honest,” you started. “I think I’d like to kiss you more too.” “We can make that happen,” Ramsay winked. Viserys tucked in his 80s rock shirt into his black pants and sniffed the air as if he smelled something awful.

“What are you guys talking about?” His eyes squinted at both of you until he slid down his sunglasses.

“Nothing. I’m just winning a bet. That’s all.” Ramsay started to walk away without the two of you.

“Wait. What? What bet?” You asked Ramsay.

“The one where Viz thinks he can win you over. He told me about you two making out in the trailer.”

“You told him that?!” you pushed Viserys a bit.

“Yeah I did. I’m sorry, do you not brag to your friends about making out with hot boys?” Viserys said. You frowned at him. Viserys had a good fucking point and there was nothing you could do about it. That bastard. You told Margie about every by you’ve kissed, loved, hated, and punched. You remembered telling Margie about your prom sex and she was thrilled for you.

“Whatever,” you shook your head while laughing. “Too bad both of you have competition.” You thought you heard Viserys make a choking noise.

“What’s that supposed to mean, sweetheart?” Ramsay asked. His face turned from soft to hard.

“It means what it means. You two aren’t the only guys I’ve spent time with. Winning me over won’t be easy,” you shrugged, smiled and kept going, leaving them in the dust.

“It’s your boss isn’t it? I had a feeling he liked you,” Viserys was smart. You’ll give him that, but you didn’t satisfy him with an answer.

“Your boss? You’re a risky one, aren’t you?” Ramsay’s smile tried to hide itself, but you noticed it anyways. You felt a bit dangerous. As if you had Ramsay, Viserys, Jon, and Robb in the palm of your hands. Each of them interested in you. They couldn’t keep up with you. It was a powerful feeling, and a good one.

The day continued. Booth after booth you interviewed artist after artist, merchant after merchant, and even a street performer who was learning how to play with fire. Ramsay, Viserys, and you ate more food together. The sun was setting and your belly was full of empanadas, loaded fries, green tea ice cream, and more lemonade than you ever drank in your life.

Viserys moaned. “I have to go to sound check.” His voice dragged on every single word. His legs sprawled out on the grass. “I don’t want to go.”

“Well if you don’t go, there won’t be a show to go to,” you explained. “I’ll go if you promise to hang with me later,” Viserys winked at you. You rolled your eyes.

“I’ll hang, but don’t poison me like that again.”

“That’s how he is. He makes you three drinks and you don’t remember things,” Ramsay explained.

“I have a feeling that’s happened a lot.” You said as you watched Viserys stand up.

“I still don’t remember what happened on Halloween two years ago,” Ramsay stared off into the distance. “The only thing he’ll tell me is that I spent 75 dollars.”

“On what?” you looked to Viserys who was snickering.

“You don’t wanna know. You think you do, but you don’t.” Without another word, Viserys left you with the bastard alone again. Ramsay shifted closer to you.

“Do you have a show tonight?” you asked Ramsay who was watching his friend walk away into the crowd.

“No, I’m actually off tonight. The rest of the band will probably join us soon actually. We wanted to watch Blackfyre together. Do you wanna come? Or will your boss be mad that you haven’t written anything?”

You laughed. “Why do you and Viserys think that Robb Stark runs my life?”

“Robb Stark is your boss?” Ramsay snorted. “Oh yeah. He definitely runs your life.” Your felt your phone vibrate. As you check it, you caught Ramsay trying to read your messages. You kept your phone to yourself and finished your message before your attention returned to Ramsay.

“He doesn’t run my life.”

“Then who texted you?”

“That’s not relevant.”

“Is it now?” Ramsay challenged. His eyes held a dangerous idea and you were itching to know. “Prove it. Come hang with me tonight and don’t write that article.”

“It’s due tomorrow morning. I have to post it by 7am.”

Ramsay shrugged. “He runs your life.”

“No, he doesn’t.”

“Then come with me. Drink with me. Kiss me,” Ramsay inched closer to you.

“Are you trying to win the bet?” you asked before truly answering his request.

“I don’t need to win the bet,” Ramsay explained. “I could have you if I wanted to.”

“Oh? How so?” you chuckled. Ramsay’s hand wrapped around you and pulled you closer. His eyes were much bluer than you thought. Here you thought that only angels had blue eyes, then again, the devil was an angel too. His lips parted, and suddenly you felt a thirst you hadn’t felt with Viserys. Ramsay’s finger tucked itself under your chin.

“See? I don’t need to do much. I don’t need this bet. I already have you.”

You wanted to punch him for saying that, but you realized how close you were to him. For the second time today, he was right. He spoke as if his voice was laced with something dangerous. He smoked as if he didn’t care what happened to his body. His eye bags hung so low that you wondered if he ever slept.

“Let’s say I go somewhere with you, what would we do?”

“Are you asking me if we would play it safe or not?”

“I’m asking you what we would do,” you repeated your question. Ramsay shifted his weight and stared over at the main stage.

“I have an idea,” Ramsay smirked.

He did tell you his friends would want to watch the Blackfyre show. What Ramsay did not tell you is that his band had bought a large amount of weed with them. When you finished a smoking session with them, you felt so calm that anxiety was only a word in a dictionary. You could say you felt ‘funny’, but you also felt like yourself only happier. The loaded fries you shared with the bass player melted in your mouth along with the gravy that topped it. You made a mental note to include it in your food article.

Your backstage pass got you onto the stage with Blackfyre with Ramsay and the rest of his band. All of you stood stage left behind the scenes, watching Blackfyre set up their stage for the night. You felt arms wrapped themselves around your waist.

“Oh hello,” you giggled. You weren’t sure if you giggled because of the marijuana you smoked or because Ramsay’s fingers tickled your sides.

“Hello,” his voice purred into your ear. He held you there in that position while you both lost yourselves in listening to the sound check. You knew it wasn’t the actual show, but the random notes that played danced in your head. Ramsay and you tried to make a song out of it, but both of you laughed when Ramsay rhymed ‘stoop’ with ‘poop’.

When Viserys took the stage you perked up excited to finally watch him play. You had moved here from out of state, and everyone told you how good they were. Even Margaery.

The first guitar and drum notes started to play and you watched the audience get pumped up and scream as the first song started to roll out. Viserys started to sing. His dark and deep voice greeted your ears like a mysterious handsome stranger in the night asking to use your phone.

All we know that's time It's slipping from our lives I want to get the truth Hidden in the lies

The guitar swelled and you had the feeling this song would want to make you hack into the government and take them down or at least punch something in the name of anarchy. You started to stare at Viserys more. His tattered shirt showed off his body’s tattoos.

Standing on the stage Bleeding out out youth Create the holy one And sell it back to you

Ramsay’s arms tightened around you. “You like looking at him, huh? What about me?” He was playing a game. You didn’t need to be high to know that, but you did decide to play along.

“You’re hot too, but I think he’s the better kisser.” You shot back. You felt Ramsay squeeze your sides. His hot breath warmed your ear.

“Is that a challenge?”

You turned around and took the risk. Your hands wrapped around his neck. Your lips met his perfectly. You moved against him to see if he was bluffing, he wasn’t. Ramsay opened his mouth to let you in, but quickly took control soon after. His kiss was deep and mesmerizing. You forgot everyone around you and focused on his mouth. Your eyes opened slightly to see Ramsay was looking elsewhere.

You pulled away to see Viserys, still preforming, looking to both of you. His eyes narrowed and an angry frown found his face. Luckily, he was singing an angry song. He screamed into the mic while the mosh pit grew intense.

“You’re trying to make him jealous? Bold.” You commented. Ramsay grabbed your hand and pulled you away from the stage.

“Wanna go somewhere private? We could continue,” Ramsay’s voice trailed off. At that moment, you remembered your last mental note.

“Not tonight,” you winked. You gave Ramsay one last kiss before you left him in the dust. You could hear him calling after you, but you ignored it. A smile formed on your face. As you walked through the crowd, your mind was sobering up from the whole ordeal. You could say you weren’t paying attention or still just high off of Ramsay. You bumped into someone, and when you backed up you felt hairs on your skin rise.

“Where have you been?” Robb asked you. “Why haven’t you answered your phone?”

Note to Self: Answer your damn phone.

Taglist: @angelicshinigami @sugarwastaken @carilov09@disneyprincessbuffyannesummers @i-theredqueen @sleepylunarwolf @loki-0fasgard @boltonblade @affabletimelady@falling-stars-never-cry

(To be added to the taglist, only ask friend! I will happily add you. Or remove you. No questions asked.)

#battle of the bands #botb #jon snow #jon snow x reader #jon snow imagine #robb stark #robb stark imagine #robb stark x reader #viserys targaryen #viserys targaryen imagine #viserys targaryen x reader #ramsay #ramsay bolton imagine #ramsay bolton x reader #game of thrones #got #got imagine #got fanfic

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j-exclamationmark-l · 7 years ago

Text

BPM Scholarly Contest for the Front Page -Japanese- (English)

youtube

Translator’s note: Kanji in Japanese is complicated. Depending on how a character is used and in what context, it could be pronounced differently, and different kanji can be used to make different sounds. It’s rather inconsistent, and as you can see from this video, it’s hard even for Japanese people sometimes.

Teacher: Alright, everyone, let’s begin. Good job on completing the test.

Everyone: Thank you.

Teacher: In order to make this more exciting, I’ll be announcing the top three overall scores.

Everyone: Wow! Yes!

Teacher: First, number three… Codomo Dragon’s… Hayato.

Teacher: As for your score, out of a total of 100 possible points, and an average of 54, you received 71.

Voices: Wow! That’s incredible! You did well!

Number 3: Hayato Codomo Dragon (vocalist)

Average class score: 54

Japanese: 14 Math: 20 Science: 6 Social Studies: 15 English: 16 Total: 71

Teacher: This is of course based on 20 points per each of the five subjects with a total of 100.

Subaru: Oh, is that how this works?

Teacher: Continuing on, at number two… Kiryu…

Takemasa: OH! That’s one of us, one of us, one of us… Hey, the camera ain’t pointed at me…

Laughter.

Teacher: It’s Junji.

Teacher: Junji received a total score of 75.

Number 2: Tokai Junji Kiryu (Drummer)

Average class score: 54

Japanese: 18 Math: 20 Science: 12 Social Studies: 12 English: 13 Total: 75

Junji (after pumping his fists in the air and dancing around): That makes me a little happy.

Teacher: And now I’d like to announce the top score in the class.

Junji: It’s definitely Hiyori.

Takemasa: I don’t think anyone here doesn’t think it’s Hiyorin.

Junji: Shh, shh.

Hiyori: …The hell, dude.

Teacher: And now, number one… Kiryu…

Subaru: Oh!

Junji: COULD IT BE ME?

Takemasa: Nuh-uh, it’s me! It’s me, me, me, meee!!

Mitsuki: The camera’s pointing at you.

Takemasa: OHH? OHH?? OHH??? ♡ ♡

Teacher: Number one is Hiyori.

Junji and Hiyori: Whoo!!

Mitsuki: He looks so happy he’s going to cry!

Takemasa: Crybaby! Crybaby!

Hiyori: I’m… I’m speechless…

Takemasa: What score’d he get?

Teacher: He earned a score of 82.

Number 1: Isshiki Hiyori Kiryu (Bassist)

Average class score: 54

Japanese: 16 Math: 20 Science: 20 Social Studies: 13 English: 13 Total: 82

Voices: Wow! That’s a high score!

Teacher: AND THAT ENDS THE PORTION WHERE YOU RECEIVE PRAISE.

Takemasa: His face! His faaace!

Mitsuki: The rest is all downhill from here.

Teacher: Now, I’d like to examine your results.

Japanese test results

Teacher: We’ll start with Japanese. First, you were asked to fill in the blanks from a four-kanji compound word.

②二(_____)三(_____)

Teacher: Two… space… three… space. I would have accepted 二束三文/nisoku sanmon (dirt cheap) or 二人三脚/ninin sankyaku (three-legged race).

Subaru: Ohhh.

Teacher: 二転三転/niten santen (changing back and forth) would have been acceptable as well. However, unfortunately… Codomo Dragon’s meN-meN.

meN-meN: Yes?

Teacher: You kind of went off-track.

meN-meN’s answer: 二人三客/futari sankyaku (It’s close to one of the correct answers, but he used the wrong kanji for “kyaku” so instead of “three-legged” it’s “three guests”, making a compound of “two people, three guests”)

Teacher: What… what exactly does this mean?

meN-meN: I started to write “leg” and then I erased it.

Teacher: Next.

②酒(_____)肉(_____)

Teacher: Liquor… blank… meat… blank. The answer is 酒池肉林/shuchi nikurin (a plentiful feast, literally “a lake of liquor and forest of meat”). Of course, the kanji for lake…

Subaru: Lake! Lake! It’s lake?!

Teacher: Yes. It’s “池/chi” as in “lake,” not “地/ji” as in “ground.” Several of you got this wrong. It’s a lake of liquor and a forest of meat. That being said… there was a somewhat… grotesque answer. I mean, I get where you were coming from. Kuina of Royz.

Kuina’s answer: 酒地肉輪 (shuji nikurin. A ground full of liquor and a wheel of meat)

Laughter.

Hiyori: What’s a wheel of meat?

Teacher: Would you care to explain?

Kuina: Well, you understand what I meant.

Teacher: There was one more from Royz. Koudai. This is a gluttonous answer.

Koudai’s answer: 酒飲肉食/sakenomi nikushoku (Carnivorous drunkard)

Laughter.

Subaru: Wow! Amazing!

Kana: That’s a good phrase.

Subaru: He’s not wrong! He’s not wrong! He’s not wrong!

Hiyori: I’ve heard that saying before and I’d say he’s correct.

Mitsuki: You’re just talking about food.

Teacher: It is easy to understand. Moving on to the next question, filling in the blank.

③顔に(_____)をぬる

Teacher: A face covered in (blank). The correct answer is 顔に泥をぬる/kao ni doro wo nuru (literally “a face covered in mud,” which means someone who is disgraced). I saw many different answers here. First, Chamu.

Chamu: Yes?

Teacher: This was Chamu’s answer.

Chamu’s answer: 顔に土をぬる/kao ni tsuchi wo nuru (a face covered in dirt)

Subaru: Close! Close!

Mitsuki: I suppose mud used to be dirt.

Chamu: I was in the right realm.

Junji: That’s just so close!

Hayato: Just add water and you got yourself a good answer.

Teacher: It looks like you were going to add something else after dirt.

Scattered agreement.

Teacher: Next, there was an answer that was maybe a little too wet. Kuina, your answer was…

Kuina’s answer: 顔に沼をぬる/kao ni numa wo nuru (a face covered in a swamp)

Mitsuki: Ohh, that’s close again!

Subaru: I don’t know…

Kuina: It’s a good answer.

Teacher: That would be really drippy.

Teacher: Alright, number four, please write the following words inside the brackets in their proper kanji.

Subaru: I’m glad.

Teacher: This was maybe a little difficult. These questions are all having to do with your bands.

④ (1) 己龍、唯のボーカル（クロサキマヒロ）/ Kiryu’s ordinary vocalist (Kurosaki Mahiro)

Teacher: So, please write “Kurosaki Mahiro” in kanji. Next.

④ (2) Royzの(シップウジンライ)はライブで盛り上がる / Everyone is excited when Royz performs (Shippuu Jinrai) at concerts.

④ (3) コドモドラゴンの(シュラ)はかっこいい / Codomo Dragon’s (Shura) is awesome.

Teacher: Well, everyone… I thought it would be great if you could all at least answer questions about yourselves, but… anyhow, number one, Kiryu’s ordinary vocalist, Kurosaki Mahiro… Kiryu’s junior BPR member, Chamu…

Chamu: Yeah?

Mahiro begins giggling.

Answer: 黒崎眞弥 (Note: Only half of the participants got this question correct)

Teacher: Kurosaki Mahiro. Many, many of you got this wrong. Hiro is written with “弥“ (extreme), not “広” (wide, commonly used in boys’ names). Anyhow, Chamu, your answer…

Chamu’s answer: 黒崎真矢 (Kurosaki is correct, and while the “ma” he used means the same thing as Mahiro’s real kanji, truth, it’s wrong [眞vs.真]. For “hiro” he wrote “arrow” and it kind of looks like he wrote “Kurosaki Maya.”)

Teacher: Maya.

Laughter.

Kana: Really?

Chamu: Well… I thought “hiro” was… was written with the kanji that was normally pronounced “ya”…

Junji: That’s right, it’s (弥) usually pronounced “ya.”

Chamu: …So when I thought, “What kanji is pronounced ‘ya’?” I thought it had to be “arrow”.

Junji: BUT “ARROW” IS NEVER PRONOUNCED “HIRO”!!

Teacher: Alright, alright. Obviously, you’re not even from the same band, so it can be excused. It’s not something you regularly have to think about. That being said… Mahiro.

Junji: It’s him! It’s him!

Someone: Your own name…?

Teacher: Let’s look at Mahiro’s own answer.

Kurosaki kind of sloppily written, “ma” isn’t 100% correct, and “hiro” is backwards.

Laughter.

Takemasa: It’s your own name!!

Junji: What were you thinking!?

Subaru: What is that?

Mahiro: My name is really difficult.

Takemasa: This is your seventh year being Kurosaki Mahiro, your seventh year!

Mahiro: I don’t actually often get the chance to write it by hand. Before now, I’ve written it once, maybe twice.

Teacher: That’s not much!

Mahiro: I mean, I’ve written it before, when I decided on it, but since then I’ve sort of forgotten how to write it.

Hiyori: What did you do when you had to write your name at the top of the test?

Mahiro: Yeah, at the top, that was the first time I tried writing it in kanji.

Teacher: Oh, yes, that reminds me. Let’s take a look at what you did at the top of your test.

Name: Kurosaki Mma hi Mahior (and spelled out phonetically above).

Junji: You messed up your own name!!

Hiyori: And to the left, when he wrote “Kiryu”, too…

It’s written sloppily.

Takemasa: Where you wrote your name, to the far right… isn’t that the Chinese version?

Translator’s note: No.

Mahiro: I can’t remember how to write “弥” no matter what!

Hiyori: Yeah, the right side is where the left should be…

Teacher: That’s right, it’s backwards…

Mahiro: No! That’s right!

Mitsuki: No.

Subaru: No, it isn’t!

Teacher: Moving on, number two. Everyone is excited when Royz performs (Shippuu Jinrai) at concerts. This was kind of difficult…

Junji: Can anyone get that right?

Teacher: Yes, some did get it.

Voices: Ohh.

Takemasa: Only a genius.

Teacher: Yes, it was only a few. The answer is “疾風迅雷“ (Lightning Speed).

Subaru: Oh, close, close.

Junji: Oh, I reversed those two…

Teacher: Okay, first, Royz’s Subaru. You were… correct.

Subaru: RAWWWWWRR!!

Teacher: However, your three bandmates…

Subaru: Hey hey hey hey hey hey hey hey hey hey hey!

Takemasa: Who wrote the lyrics?

Subaru raises his hand.

Takemasa: Oh, it was you, Subaru.

Hiyori: Then that makes sense that he’d get it.

Someone: Don’t forget, Mahiro got his own name wrong.

Mahiro: THERE’S A DIFFERENCE BETWEEN WRITING LYRICS AND WRITING A NAME!

Teacher: Okay, okay. Tomoya of Royz, you wrote this:

Tomoya’s answer: 疾風人来 / Shippuu Jinrai (”Shippuu” is correct, but “Jinrai” is not. Together, he wrote: a strong wind of people approaching.)

Laughter.

Subaru: Who’s coming?

Tomoya: I got “shippuu”, though.

Teacher: Moving on, Kuina. Kuina wrote…

“Wind” and “Lightning” are correct. For “Jin,” he writes “Benevolence”. Hiyorin, master of kanji, leans in and frowns, trying to read it.

Subaru: I can’t read the first one.

Teacher: Last, Koudai. Again, it’s hard to read.

I don’t think the first one is a kanji, and the second one is unreadable, but I’m assuming it’s supposed to be 風, which is correct, though it’s really sloppy. “Jin” is wrong (people), but “rai” (lightning) is correct. It kind of looks like ～～people lightning.

Subaru: WHAT IS THAT?

Mitsuki: Are you trying to hit people with lightning?

Teacher: Well, the vocalist wrote the lyrics and he can remember what he wrote, so I guess it’s okay. However, Mahiro…

Mahiro: Yes?

Teacher: I think you tried to write it… What you wrote instead was…

Mahiro’s answer: 波風神雪 / nami kaze kami yuki (Waves of wind and the god of snow. It looks very grand)

Laughter.

Mahiro: Yep, that’s a big mistake. I couldn’t remember “shippuu” for the life of me. I’m just bad at kanji.

Subaru: That’ll be our new song, new song!

Hayato: And “snow” at the end!

Junji: Shouldn’t that be pronounced “Hafuu Jinsetsu”?

Mahiro: Heyy, let’s make that the name of our next tour!

Teacher: It does indeed look like the name of a new single.

Hafuu Jinsetsu, The God of Snow Comes on Waves of Wind. New Single by Kiryu.

Teacher: [Number three], Codomo Dragon’s (Shura) is awesome. Shura’s kanji is “修羅”, meaning a scene of carnage.

Note: “Shura” is taken from the name “Ashura,” the fighting demon from Buddhism.

Teacher: Half of you got this right. Mitsuki of Kiryu.

Mitsuki: Yes?

Teacher: Shura…

Mitsuki: Yes?

Teacher: I understand what you wanted to say. You wrote this.

Mitsuki’s answer: 酒羅 / shura (he replaced the first kanji with the kanji for “alcohol")

Everyone laughs.

Subaru: Scary! Scary!

Mitsuki: Yeah, well… I mean… ain’t it?

Subaru: No, it’s a different kind of scary!

Mitsuki: Well, either way you look at it, it’s violent. A scene of carnage is scary, and…

Takemasa: Yeah, getting drunk and brawling is kind of scary, too.

Teacher: Alright, last.

Please use the following word in a short sentence: あたかも / atakamo (as if, as it were, as though, at that moment, right then, just then)

Teacher: So use the word “atakamo” appropriately in a sentence. There were many things you could have put for this that would have been correct. Most of you wrote appropriate answers. However, Mahiro of Kiryu…

Mahiro stares blankly back for a moment, then looks down at his paper in surprise.

Mahiro: Oh, but I’m pretty confident in my answer…

Teacher: Is that so? Well, I got kind of a… scifi vibe from your answer.

Laughter.

Junji: You used a scifi example in your sentence during a Japanese test?

…is… is that bad?…

Teacher: Let’s take a look.

Mahiro’s answer: At that moment, yes… it suddenly made its appearance.

Wild laughter.

Mahiro: Well, when you say “at that moment,” that’s just the first thing I thought…

Hiyori: Waaaait…

Teacher: Well, just take a look here…

Junji: I can’t believe that’s your answer!

Teacher: Exactly what are you looking at?

Subaru: I wanna know now.

Mahiro: But I used it appropriately.

Subaru: It’s not wrong, it’s not wrong.

Mitsuki: If it’s just a matter of grammar…

Mahiro: At least give me a “close” and don’t mark it wrong completely…

Teacher: Uhh, well… yeah, I guess.

Voices: He guesses!

Laughter.

Teacher: And with that, the Japanese portion of the test is finished. Now, I’d like to announce the ranking. First, out of 20 points, the top score was 18. This score belongs to… Junji.

Everyone: Ohhh!

Applause.

Teacher: However. However. The lowest score… three of you received only eight points. Royz’s… Kuina and Koudai.

Junji gestures to Mahiro.

Junji: Aaaand?

Teacher: Kiryu’s Mahiro.

Mahiro: Whaaaaat? Well, I guess our band is well-balanced.

Mitsuki: Well, I guess we’ll forgive you since we have both the highest-scoring and lowest-scoring people on our team.

Kuina: Didn’t you live abroad?

Mahiro: Yes, yes, yes.

Subaru: His parents are Filipino.

Caption: He’s agreeing.

Takemasa: That’s a big, fat lie.

Teacher: Japanese is finished.

118 notes · View notes

mybullshitsensesaretingling · 7 years ago

Text

Gentics

Request: Request for reader being Pike's daughter? Any pairing. :)

A/N: I wrote this three separate times. This last time ended up being closer to home than I intended. It’s also not quite a pairing. It’s not super couplely, but I hope you enjoy regardless.

You glared into your cup of coffee, desperately trying to ignore your com going off every fifteen minutes. Your jaw tightened with each notification. When it couldn’t tighten anymore, you grabbed your com, switched it off, and slammed it back on the small, four sided table.

“Ex?” a man asked, nodding to your com and taking a seat across from you. He was in the same red uniform that most of the cafe's patrons wore. His tone was upbeat, his posture confident, and you weren’t in the mood for any of it.

“Sure, you can sit there,” you grumbled.

“Thanks.” He looked pointedly at the device on the table. “So?”

“No offence, but I’m not really in the mood to share my issues with some chipper cadet.”

“It’s chipper Cadet Kirk,” he said.

You snorted causing him to raise an eyebrow.

“Sorry, you’re not what I was expecting from the infamous Jim Kirk.” You leaned back in your chair.

“Didn’t realize my reputation had reached the civilians.”

“Only the civilians with connections.” You offered him your hand. “(Y/N) Pike.”

“Pike as in-”

You cut him off, taking your hand back, “Yeah, Pike as in.”

“The image you have of me must be wonderful.”

“It’s not the most flattering, no,” you punctuated your sentence with a sip of coffee.

Jim took a moment to take you in before speaking again. His blue eyes scrutinized everything about you, trying to size you up in a moment.

“I would have thought Captain Pike would’ve had his kid in the academy right out of high school.”

“Oh, he tried.” You tilted your head. “And his friends tried. And his coworkers tried. And people I had never met before tried.”

“And you refused out of a point of pride?” he guessed.

“I refused because I’m my own person. Trying to be him is no way to make a name for myself.” You looked at him. “But I’m sure you’ll do fine. It’s not like you’ve got big shoes to fill.”

“I’m not trying to be my father.”

“No, you’re trying to be better than him.” You took a drink of your coffee.

“And you’re not?”

“I’m already the better Pike.”

He leaned forward in his chair so he could rest his forearms on the table top. “So tell me the Better Pike, what’s a pretty face like yours doing in what might be the worst diner in San Fran if you don’t work for Starfleet.”

“I never said I didn’t work for Starfleet.” You couldn’t help the small smirk that formed on your face as you watched him think through all the Starfleet jobs you could have without actually being Starfleet. You pitied him enough to put him out of his misery before he was resigned to guessing. Or perhaps it’s more accurate to say you pitied yourself. You’d be lying if you said you didn��t absolutely love telling people what it was you did. “You ever hear of Enterprise?”

“No, I’ve been living under a rock.”

“Fair point,” you said. “Well, the new one-”

“NCC-1701. Yeah, I’ve seen her. She’s a beautiful ship.”

“Thank you,” you smiled.

Jim’s jaw dropped. “You designed it?”

“Not all of it. I work with a team of uptight officers.” You moved closer to him, excitement and pride radiating from you. “But the subspace field generators? That’s all me.”

“So when it fails to go into warp, we’ll have you to blame?”

“Yes,” you admitted. “And when it goes to warp 8 more efficiently than any other constitution-class starship to date, you’ll have me to thank.”

“You broke my ship!” you shouted, storming through the shuttlebay and waving a PADD around violently. You stopped when you saw your dad being wheeled towards the exit to take in the scene before you. Then you rounded on Jim. “You broke my ship and my father!”

“I didn’t break your father!” Jim defended.

“And my ship?” You threw out your hand, and subsequently your PADD as well.

“I didn’t break your father,” he repeated.

You huffed angrily, scrunching up your face and collecting your thoughts into your next action. Jim stood tall, readying himself. He had learned over the past two years that once you got riled up the only thing that would stop you from yelling was you tiring yourself out. But at the last moment you diverted your attention back to your father, the anger plastered on your face being replaced with concern. Your raised shoulders slumped. Picking up on the change, Jim took a careful step forward.

“What happened?” You stared at the door your dad had just been pushed through. “Is he going to be okay?”

“He’s going to be fine. I promise.” He put a hand on each of your arms, getting you to look at him. “He’s in good hands. Bones is the best.”

You nodded, feeling slightly reassured. You hadn’t actually met Bones, but you had familiarized yourself with your father’s crew enough to know you could trust him. Jim’s glowing opinion of him didn’t hurt either.

“Do you want to head to the hospital?” His thumbs traced circular patterns through your shirt. His blue eyes held yours. “You can yell at me on the way. I know that soothes you.”

“Yeah.”

You slammed your PADD into the chest of a passing engineer.

“I want a diagnostic on my desk by morning,” you ordered. “And tell Larry if I get a single call for anything less than three dead engineers within the next 24 hours, I go back to Station 75 and he loses his theoretical physicist.”

“Yes, sir,” the engineer responded nervously, wrapping his hands around the device.

“Yes, Doctor,” Jim corrected for you.

He forced out a frantic apology and rushed off to convey your message.

You shook your head. “Uniforms’ll call anything that moves ‘sir’.”

“You certainly command a room like your father. But you could be a little nicer,” Jim offered, falling into step next to you as you left the bay. It was a serious suggestion, but his tone held amusement. Part of him truly enjoyed the fear you could invoke in your subordinates. “I think that kid almost peed his pants.”

“I’ll bake him a pie when the job’s done.”

You looked back over your shoulder at the small sliver of Enterprise you could still see between the wall and the door as it slid closed.

“Spock wouldn’t have broken my ship,” you grumbled, crossing your arms.

“No, he was too busy breaking my face.”

You barked out a laugh. “He did that? Good for him.”

Your reaction didn’t even come close to surprising him. You have never been one to fuss over him. Even if you were worried about him, you showed it in the roughest way you could. In a lot of ways he appreciated it.

“You know I memorized the names of every crew member assigned to Enterprise, but here’s the weird thing, your name wasn’t on that list.”

“You memorized the names of 430 people?” Jim asked, dodging your accusation.

“You have all of III Communications memorized and that’s 32 songs,” you said dismissively. “Why were you on my ship?”

“Technically it's the Federation’s ship.”

“Jim.”

“They didn’t assign me anywhere so Bones medical loophole’d me in,” he explained

“Are they reprimanding you?” you asked as you stepped through the exterior door in the hot sun.

He scrunched up his face like he honestly hadn’t thought about it until that moment. “No, I think they’re promoting me.”

“I hate Starfleet,” you grumbled.

“I know.”

“And I hate you.”

“I know that too.”

“If it makes you feel better I was banished to an icy hell for a little while,” he offered.

“It does, thanks.” You turned your torso towards him so you could see him as you walked. “You know this isn’t how it works for anybody else, right? Things don’t just magically workout for other people because the have good intentions and enchanting eyes.”

“You think I have enchanting eyes?”

“That’s not the point.”

“I think that’s exactly the point.”

Part of you knew he was being extra egotistical to give you something to be irritated with. To distract you from why you were walking into the hospital, why you were asking the receptionist where Christopher Pike was, why you were walking through a hall that smelled like chemicals and death. It worked. At least on some level, but as soon as you reached the door to his room all your irritation went out the door, replaced by fear of what you would find on the other side.

“I was in Riverside,” you said quietly, staring at the door. “When I got the call. I was working on a new ship, and someone - I don’t remember who - called me, told me what had happened, or at least some of it. I ran for the transporter. There isn’t one in the shipyard. I ran all the way to town. I didn’t tell anybody where I was going or even that I was leaving. I just left. I was so,” you bit down on your lip for a moment, unsure if you were ready to admit it, “so scared. I’ve never been that scared in my life.” You looked back at Jim. “Thank you. I don’t know the whole story. I don’t have to. I know that he’s here because of you. Thank you. If he,” the words caught in your throat. You faced the door and tried again, “If you hadn’t,” again you couldn’t get the full sentence out. You skipped to the end this time, “I don’t know what I would do.”

“You don’t have to find out.” Jim put his hand reassuringly on your shoulder. “Why don’t you go in. I’ll go get you some coffee.”

Your gaze moved away from the door to meet his eyes. You wanted to tell him that it wasn’t just your dad that you were worried about when you got the call. That you were worried about him. But instead you nodded and knocked on the door. He stayed with you in the hall until you made your way into the room.

Your father was sitting on the biobed, talking with the doctor. His expression and tone of voice, was the same as it always was, strong and sure, but laying there, looking tired in a way you couldn’t recognise, he seemed fragile. For the first time you were forced to realise that the great Captain Pike, your father, the man whose expectations you had spent a lifetime trying to live up to, was just that, a man. He was just easily broken as anyone else. You had expected him to look small, but instead you felt small.

“Dad?”

“There’s my little genius,” he smiled.

As you walked closer to his bed, you tried to return it, but failed. You took his hand in yours. Looking up at the doctor you tried to place him in the stories Jim had told you.

“You’re Bones, right?” you asked, keeping a firm hold on your father’s hand.

“I prefer Doctor McCoy or Leonard.” He turned his attention from the vitals displayed on the wall to you. “But yes, that’s me.”

“Give me a timeline, Doctor.”

“I want to keep him overnight for observation. Recovery after that is going to be a long road. I want him in physical therapy as soon as possible.”

Your jaw clenched as you nodded in understanding.

“I’m fine, sweetheart.”

“You’re gonna be. I want you by seen by Doctor Murphy tomorrow. And you’re going to every appointment. I don’t care what you think is more important,” you told him.

“You remember that I’m the parent, don't you?” he chuckled.

“I don’t trust the judgment of anyone who puts Jim Kirk in charge.”

“To the youngest captain in history!” Christopher raised his glass.

“Here, here!” you beamed at Jim. As much crap as gave him about… well, everything, you were insanely proud of him. You’d known since the day you’d met him, that he was destined to be a captain.

“I hope this won’t affect how you feel about your real child,” Jim grinned, clinking his glass against Christopher’s and your own.

“How could it?” Your dad looked at you, sitting on the stool next to him. “Kiddo, move over. I want Jim to sit next to me.”

You shook your head. “I’m comfortable. You can love him more than me from a slight distance.”

Christopher wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer to him and laughing, “I could never love anyone more than you.”

“Who could?” Jim asked. “You are the better Pike.”

“I’m sorry. What was that? You’re the what?”

“You heard him,” you said over the brim of your drink.

Your dad sighed, “It’s really too bad you never grew into that head of yours.”

Pulling back from him, you patted him on the shoulder. “I’m afraid it’s genetic.”

Jim stood with his back pressed to the wall and his arms crossed over his chest. He held a hard, steady glare directed a landing shuttle. When the door slid open to reveal you tossing a bag over your shoulder, he pushed off the wall and fell in step next to you as you walked towards your apartment.

“Your dad yelled at me,” he pouted.

“‘Hi, (Y/N). How was Mars?’” you asked for him, “Just fine, Jim. Thanks for asking. How was space?”

“It was great, but then I got yelled at for it.”

“Did you deserve it?”

He grumbled something under his breath and changed the subject. “So Mars was good?”

“I didn’t get a lot of free time. Work kept me held up in the drafting room all month.” You walked quickly along the sidewalk, anxious to get back to your apartment and out of your travel clothes.

“Sounds like your perfect trip.”

“Are you calling me a workaholic?”

“You could use a break every now and then.”

“I’ll take a break when I’m satisfied with the propulsion system,” you told him, struggling to keep the strap of your bag securely on your shoulder. When it slipped again, Jim took it and draped it over his own shoulder.

“So you’re going to keep splitting your time between San Francisco, Iowa, and the Mars station ‘til you die?”

“That’s the plan.” You looked up at him. “Are you gonna keep traversing the galaxy with Commander Pointy and Doctor Grumpy until you die?”

“I won’t get that option, if your dad has his way,” he said, returning to his original rant.

“He’ll ease up once he’s calmed down. We both know he’s got a soft spot for you.”

“Seems to be a Pike family trait,” he mused.

“It’s because you’re just so modest.” You reached up and pinched his cheek.

“It is one of my best qualities.” He rubbed his cheek. “Want to go out tonight and celebrate our mutual homecoming?”

“Swap ‘go out’ with sit on the couch in sweatpants, eating pizza and you’ve got yourself a date.”

“I’m game.” He draped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you in for a sideways hug.

“I wanna hear all about how you pissed my dad off.”

#star trek #star trek imagine #star trek imagines #jim kirk x reader #jim kirk imagine #jim kirk imagines

407 notes · View notes

minhoinator · 7 years ago

Text

By My Side, A Hogwarts AU (9/75)

exceedingly acceptable - The Great Hall was eerily quiet.

It was the morning of the second day of exams. The only sounds that could be heard were the scraping of forks against plates and the occasional heavy sigh. The seventh years hadn’t been seen in days. Most of them were holed up in their rooms or the library studying for their N.E.W.T.s.

master list // AO3 / AFF // first year - muggle-born, sorted, first day, homesick, hallowe’en, deck the halls, possibilities, belonging

@lockandminkey @minhosbowties @dearestjonghyun @artfulkey @shinyexo (if anyone else wants to be tagged in this, just let me know!)

* - * - *

The Great Hall was eerily quiet.

Minho’s head thudded against the table, rattling the plates and silverware. Kibum dragged his fork through his eggs and syrup as he glanced at Minho. He offered him a sympathetic smile, even though Minho wasn’t looking. “Nervous?” He groaned, and Kibum his hand on his shoulder. “It’ll be okay.”

“How do you know, though?”

“Because I took my Charms exam yesterday. And we’ve been studying the pronunciations for weeks now. You’ll do great.”

Minho sat up slowly, sighing. “I guess you’re right. What other exams do you have today?”

“Potions first, then Herbology. Flying after lunch.”

Minho perked up. “I forgot about Flying.” Kibum made a non-committal noise and Minho sobered quickly, grabbing his hand under the table. He glanced across the table to Aaron and Callum, who were both staring blankly at their full plates, and Minho scooted a little closer to him. “Be sure to stand by me, okay? I’ll make sure you're okay.”

He nodded absently. Kibum had never liked flying, not even in Muggle airplanes – even though those were far safer than a stupid old broomstick. He wasn’t sure what the Flying exam would include, all he knew is he wasn’t looking forward to it. Minho squeezed his hand a little tighter as the bell rang for class.

They pushed away their uneaten plates of food and trudged to the doorway. Minho kept his hold on Kibum’s hand as the other students swept past them, and pulled him into a quick hug. “Good luck with Potions.”

Kibum smiled into Minho’s shoulder. “Yeah, I hope I don’t forget anything.”

A couple seconds of silence passed before Minho snorted. “Really?” He smacked Kibum’s shoulder as he released him of his embrace.

“What?” Kibum laughed as Minho shook his head and started walking toward the staircases. “Because it’s the Forgetfulness Potion. Get it?”

Minho turned and kept walking backward, a lop-sided grin betraying his amusement. “No, I get it. It’s just stupid, that’s all.” Once he reached the staircase, he turned away from Kibum and started up the stairs.

“I hope you do well in Charms! Good luck, Minho!” He waved as he darted up the stairs and out of Kibum’s line of sight.

Kibum sighed and hurried down the stairs to the basement to the Potions classroom. This was one exam he wasn’t necessarily worried about. He had grown up watching Grandma and Mom concocting potions and asked as many questions as he could. The Forgetfulness Potion was difficult and he had yet to actually make it, but, even so, he was sure that he would do well.

His steps echoed in the darkened hallway, and he quickened his pace when he heard the sounds of his classmates’ voices following him. He wished he had been able to take his exams with Minho. With the way exams were set up, everyone was able to take whichever exams they felt the readiest for, or rather, just wanted to get over with first.

Yesterday, he had taken his Charms, History of Magic, and Astronomy exams. And, Minho had taken his History of Magic, Potions, and Astronomy exams. Minho had wanted an extra day to study Charms, so Kibum took it to give him the peace of mind. Minho was doing the same for him with Defense Against the Dark Arts today.

Even though their schedule was working out nicely, he wished that they could take their exams together.

Warm candlelight seeped through the open doorway to the Potions classroom, inviting him inside. Kibum grabbed his cauldron from his cubby hole on the bookshelf. He froze when a scrap of parchment floated to the floor. With a quick glance around, he hunkered down and picked it up.

Good luck! I hope you don’t forget any ingredients!

Kibum snorted and stuffed Minho’s note in his robe pocket. He wrote that and still had the audacity to say his joke was stupid? Kibum clicked his tongue and tried not to smile. He failed.

“All right, everyone, select a workstation and let’s get started.”

Kibum looked up at Professor Slughorn and hurried to his favorite spot, stepping up on the stool. He set his cauldron on the rack over the small candle and folded his hands around his mortar. Slughorn walked around the room, checking each workstation for any evidence of notes for the potion recipe.

Ironically, they were supposed to replicate the Forgetfulness Potion from memory.

Once he was sitting, Slughorn extended his hand and flipped the hovering hourglass above his desk. “You may begin.”

Kibum’s heart thudded in his ears as he stepped off his stool. He joined the others swarming to the bookshelves full of ingredients. “Lethe, Lethe…ah,” he grabbed one of the thin phials of Lethe River Water. He crouched to grab a pouch of the Standard Ingredient from the bottom shelf. Then, he went over to the herbs on the other bookshelf to get a tied bunch Valerian sprigs and mistletoe berries.

Once he was back to his workstation, Kibum dumped the ingredients and grabbed the beaker and hurried over to the line by the sink. Why was he nervous? He was good at Potions; he could do this. “I can do this.”

A Gryffindor boy – Damian, Kibum thought his name was – glanced over his shoulder at him as he was filling up his beaker. Kibum’s eyes narrowed and Damian looked away, turning the faucet off when he was through.

Kibum stepped up and squinted at the two-pint mark on the side of the beaker, being careful to fill it up exactly to the mark. He poured the water into his cauldron and lit the cold candle beneath with a match. He arranged his ingredients around his mortar and pestle while he waited for the water to come to simmer.

Analecia was already stirring in her Lethe River Water, and she gave Kibum a discreet thumbs up when he met her gaze. He smiled and went up on his tiptoes to check his cauldron. The water was simmering now, so he unstoppered the phial and carefully let two drops fall inside. He went to stir it but stopped himself, taking a deep breath instead.

Not yet.

“What’s next, what’s next…” The Valerian sprigs, of course. He pulled two of the sprigs out of the bunch, dropping them into the cauldron. Now, he could stir. He grabbed the long, thin silver spoon and plopped it inside and immediately blanked on which direction to stir it. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath, and immediately glanced around to see if anyone heard him.

He was in the clear.

He stirred it three times – he remembered that much – and tapped the excess moisture off the spoon as he reached for his wand. Kibum waved it over the cauldron and the steam cleared for a second.

Now, to wait. For at least forty-five minutes.

The time crawled by. Fifteen minutes in, he had already measured out the Standard Ingredient that he needed. Twenty minutes in, he was crushing the mistletoe berries and Standard Ingredient together in his mortar. Kibum sighed, resting his chin on his fist as he glanced around at the others. They were all attempting to find ways to entertain themselves. Analecia was passing notes with Gilbert Edwards, who Kibum knew to be one of Minho’s dorm mates.

How was Minho doing in Charms? Had he already performed the spells? Or was he waiting until the end?

Kibum sighed again and reached into his pocket for the note Minho left. He stared at the hurriedly scrawled characters and smiled again. In the middle of the workstations at his table, Kibum spotted a spare quill and inkwell. He glanced over at Slughorn, who was almost nodding off, and reached for them, dipping the quill into the ink. He doodled little stars and underlined some of the characters while emphasizing others by retracing them.

In his peripheral vision, Slughorn sat up and flipped the hourglass over, and announced, “Halfway through.”

It was time to finish this off.

Kibum stuffed Minho’s note back into his pocket and rubbed two pinches of the crushed mixture into the bubbling cauldron. He stirred it carefully, leaning over to inspect the potion. He wrinkled his nose at the strong scent of rosemary wafting up to him in the steam and grabbed his wand.

“Obliviate,” he whispered, being careful to point his wand directly at his own cauldron. The steam dissipated for a moment before returning, and he blew out the candle before he sat back and waited for Slughorn to stop by his workstation.

He was speaking with Damian now, and he just dropped something inside his cauldron. Slughorn nodded and jotted something down in his notebook. He nodded and Damian stood, wiped his hands off on his robes and started cleaning up his workstation. Kibum’s eyes widened as Slughorn looked up, met his eyes, and started over to him.

“What have we got here, my boy?”

Kibum held back a grin in an attempt to keep himself from making a joke. It didn't work. “Did you forget, or..?”

Slughorn chuckled to himself and patted Kibum’s shoulder. “No, of course not.” He tore a strip of paper out of his notebook – Kibum saw his name written there – and dropped it into the simmering potion. “Hmm,” Slughorn leaned in, wafting the steam toward him. “How many mistletoe berries did you add?”

“Uh…five.”

“Oh, all right.” Slughorn fished the scrap of paper out with Kibum’s spoon and showed it to him. “See here – don’t touch the potion – your name should be completely disappeared by now.” The UM was still there, albeit slightly blurry and slowly melting away. “You’ve added one too many berries, and that’s delaying the reaction.” Kibum nodded, blinking when the U vanished. “Otherwise, you’ve done a good job. You may clean up and go to your next exam.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Leave your potion in the cauldron, I’ll take care of it.”

Kibum nodded and Slughorn went on to his next student, leaving Kibum to breathe a sigh of relief. Not perfect, but adequate. He could deal with that.

He started picking up the excess ingredients and hurried to put them away on the shelves. Analecia stepped up next to him as she stretched to put her Lethe River Water away. “How’d you do?” she asked.

“Okay. You?”

Analecia nodded, quieting when Slughorn walked behind them. Kibum finished putting away his ingredients and headed for the door, hurrying to the third floor to see if Minho was finished with his exam yet.

* - * - *

“I hope you do well in Charms! Good luck, Minho!”

Minho waved back at him as he kept running up the staircase, his stomach churning with every step. He came to a sudden stop at the top step and clutched at his stomach, groaning. Was he feeling sick because he didn’t eat breakfast? Or because he was nervous? Or was it both?

Probably both.

He rounded the corner and stopped after another couple steps, and covered his mouth with his the back of his hand.

Exams were his nemesis, even in Muggle schools. School came naturally to Minseok, of course, and he always tried to help Minho with his studies, when he could. He was glad, so glad, that he had Kibum to help him all year. But now, Kibum wasn’t here.

His stomach clenched and he sat down on the stairs, burying his face in his crossed arms as he breathed deeply. In and out…in and out. Footsteps hurried past him, the passersby quieting as they stepped around him.

He could do this; he had to. He didn’t want to have to wait until tomorrow. That would mean two full days without eating, and Minho knew he didn’t want that. He moved to stand, cringing as the staircase seemed to waver beneath his feet. Minho took deliberate steps down the stairs and returned to the first floor, stumbling in the direction of the infirmary.

“What can I do for you, dear?” Madam Pomfrey asked as he reached the open doorway. Minho held his stomach and grimaced. The head nurse ushered him inside. “Exam jitters?” Minho nodded, frowning. He didn’t know what jitters meant. But, she had said exams before it so, odds were his answer was yes to whatever she was asking him. “I have just the thing.”

She had him sit on the edge of one of the hospital beds next to a cabinet full of potions and herbs. “Upset stomach?” Minho nodded, and she reached for a phial before she pulled her hand back. “Have you eaten anything today?” He shook his head and she reached for a different phial, a clear, pink-tinted potion.

“Ventrinfi.” She shook the phial before she unstoppered it and reached for a teaspoon on the nightstand. “It will help settle your stomach a bit.” She filled the teaspoon and held it out for Minho to take.

It was cloyingly sweet, and Minho gulped it down with a great effort, his eyes squeezing shut as he smacked his lips. When he opened his eyes, the phial was back in its place on the shelf, and she was offering him a piece of something that looked like soft caramel.

“Chamomile caramel. To help with your nerves. Well, and to mask the aftertaste of the Ventrinfi.”

Minho chewed it, the chamomile giving the caramel a slight floral flavor. It was nice. “Thank you,” he said, once he swallowed the caramel, and gave the head nurse a small smile.

“Hurry along to your exam, now.” She moved aside as he darted out of the infirmary, feeling surprisingly less anxious as he rushed up the stairs to the Charms classroom. His stomach churned again as he slid into one of the empty seats, but he didn’t feel as though he was going to throw up, now.

At least there was that.

“Madeline Brennen?”

“Here!” came the voice of one of the Ravenclaw girls across the room.

“Marvin Carter?” No answer. Flitwick made a mark on his parchment. Minho sat up and glanced around to see if he could see his dormmate. He had mentioned last night that he was going to wait until tomorrow to take this exam. Marvin was probably in Potions with Kibum right now. “Choi Minho?”

“Yeah?” he asked, tearing his attention away from the class and back to Professor Flitwick. Giggles tittered through the class and Minho sunk down in his seat as Flitwick continued roll call. He sent the parchment floating back to his podium once he was through, and he rubbed his hands together as he looked out at the class.

“We’ll be performing the exams in alphabetical order.” Behind him, Amaryllis Zachary whimpered quietly. Minho turned around, offering her a small smile. She returned the smile and closed her eyes, sighing heavily.

“Tracie Asher, come up here please.” Everyone turned toward her as she tied her bushy hair into a mess of a bun. She stood and traipsed down to Flitwick’s desk, clutching her wand before her with both hands.

Last night when they were cramming for today’s exams, Kibum gave him an idea of what to expect. He would have to perform five spells – Kibum, of course, did not tell him which ones – in front of the class. Once they had gone to bed for the night, Minho had fallen asleep with his face in his copy of Standard Book of Spells, trying to commit the charms they had learned this year to memory as best he could.

Minho rested his chin on the thin tip of his wand, staring ahead as Tracie returned to her seat and Martin Albright took her place. There was a high-pitched ringing in his ears as Martin performed the spells. Every time he tried to pay attention to the exam currently happening, his vision would blur and he would avert his eyes.

This must be what Kibum was referring to last night.

“There’s no point in trying to pay attention to the other’s taking the exam,” Kibum had said as he passed him half of the last pumpkin pastie from Grandma’s care package. “Flitwick enchanted the front of the classroom. I couldn’t hear a thing when they went up there.”

“Really?”

Kibum had nodded then, and wiped the crumbs from the pastie off his lips. “When I went up to do mine, there was like this -- “ he mimed an invisible wall and made a quiet bwah! sound. Minho had frowned before he laughed in confusion. “Eh, you’ll see what I mean.”

Martin was followed by Amy, Eion, Nathan, Bryan, and then Madeline. His stomach dropped as she completed the exam and practically skipped back to her seat. Flitwick glanced down to the parchment in his hands and then looked up, searching until he found him.

“Choi Minho, you’re next.”

Gulping, Minho’s hand tightened around this wand as he stood and shuffled slowly to the front of the class. Flitwick had set up a table with props to perform the spells on – a stone from the Black Lake, an empty glass beaker from the Potions classroom, an unrolled sheet of parchment hovering in mid-air, a little wooden box with a lock on it, and a whole pineapple.

According to Kibum, the point of the exam was that it was up to you to decide which spells to use on each of the items.

As he stepped up to the table, there was a second where his vision distorted and a soft whoosh sound washed over him -- as though he had dunked underwater. Minho blinked, his ears popping as he stepped up behind the stone at the head of the table. Flitwick stood at the other end of the table with the pineapple and gave him an encouraging smile as he fiddled with a small hourglass.

“You may begin when you’re ready.”

Minho nodded and twirled his wand between his fingers, staring intently at the stone before him. It would probably require the Levitation Charm. Satisfied with that answer, Minho glanced to the empty beaker. If he remembered right, Flitwick used it to contain the flame from the Fire-Making Spell, so he decided to go with that.

"Mr. Choi?” He hummed in response and glanced over at Flitwick, who was watching him, concerned. “Are you all right?”

“Yes. Sorry.” He cleared his throat and held his wand up. He could figure out the other three spells as he went. Hopefully. “I’m ready.” Flitwick flipped over the hourglass and set it down on the table, and Minho’s breath hitched as he tightened his grip on his wand.

“I can do this.”

He took a deep breath a raised his wand with a swish and flicked his wrist at the stone. “Wingardium Leviosa!” The weight of the stone startled him as it began to levitate. Until this moment, he had only lifted feathers and leaves, so the weight had barely registered for him. Minho let out a surprised little oh! and supported his wand arm with his other hand as he lifted the stone to eye level. He glanced over at Flitwick, who nodded, and he returned the stone to the table.

Sunlight from the open windows glinted off the rim of the empty beaker. Minho squinted as he stepped up to the table. He pointed his wand at the beaker. “Incedio!” Sparks spurted from the tip of his wand as a small orange flame appeared in the center of the beaker.

Minho grinned and stepped over to the hovering unrolled parchment. What...the hell was he supposed to do with this. When he looked over to Flitwick to gauge what he should do the parchment, he was met with a blank expression. He gulped, blinking rapidly. The first class they had after Christmas break, Flitwick had levitated and unraveled a bolt of fabric, slashing it to ribbons before the fabric hit the ground. He had used...the Severing Charm, if Minho remembered right. Another glance at Flitwick, and Minho raised his wand. “Diffindo!” The parchment rended, the two halves falling to the side and sliding off the table.

Sighing, Minho moved on to the locked wooden box. This should be easy, it was the Unlocking Charm, for sure. However, his tongue always seemed to tangle around the syllables. Kibum kept going over and over it last night with him, helping it with him with the pronunciation. Minho licked his lips. “A-lo-ho-mora,” he said, and held himself back from doing a tiny victory dance when the lock clicked and popped open.

As he stepped up behind the pineapple, Minho grimaced. He already knew what he had to -- make the pineapple dance across the table. The thing is...he only saw Flitwick perform this once in class. And, even now, he was completely blanking on what the actual spell was. T...something. Tarantula? No, but he was close. Tara --

Tap-tap.

Minho looked over at Flitwick, who pointed to the hourglass. His time was up. He didn’t complete the exam. He failed. Tears sprung to his eyes as he lowered his wand, and he gritted his teeth to keep them from falling. He should have been quicker, he should have known the material better. If only he weren’t so st --

“Good job, Mr. Choi. I’m impressed.” Wait, what? Minho sniffed and turned to Flitwick without meeting his eyes. “Don’t worry about not getting Tarantallegra. Only one student has been able to get it so far.”

“Really?”

“Yes. You did well, you should be proud.” With a simple wave of his wand, the test reset, and Minho’s eyes widened at the casual display of magic. When he looked back at Flitwick, he was smiling up at Minho. “Now, you can stay for the duration of the class if you wish, but you are also allowed to leave right now.”

Minho mentally calculated what time it should be. Would Kibum be done with the potion by now? Possibly. If not, he could wait for him to finish. “Thank you, Professor,” Minho said, bowing to Flitwick before he bolted out of the Charms classroom.

He dodged the students milling about as he ran through the halls and cursed the moving staircases as they kept him from reaching the basement. He was on his fifth redirection when he spotted Kibum running up the stairs from the first floor. “Bummie!”

Kibum froze mid-step and looked over at him, his cheeks dimpling as he smiled. Minho sighed and glanced around, his gaze falling on the wall of paintings behind him. He pointed to it and Kibum nodded, both making their way up and off of the moving staircases.

“How’d you do?” They both asked at the same time. “You go,” Minho said when Kibum laughed.

“I did okay. Added an extra berry but Slughorn said it was fine. What about you?”

Minho shrugged and Kibum smacked his arm. “Ow, hey...”

“Sorry. Did you pass?”

“I don’t know. I missed one, but Flitwick said he was proud of me, so...”

“That’s great! I missed one, too.”

Minho brightened, looking up at Kibum. “Which one?”

“Ta...Tarantallegra. It’s so hard to reme -- what the...” Kibum’s voice trailed off as the large painting of a rather robust woman swung open and hit his shoulder gently. Minho walked around him and they peered inside. He squinted at the assault of the color red lining every wall. “So, this is what Gryffindor Tower looks like.”

“It -- ” Minho lowered his voice as a couple of Gryffindors walked inside, giving them somewhat confused glares. “ -- It’s a bit much.”

“Agreed.” Kibum let the painting swing shut once another Gryffindor was safely inside. “What’s next for you?”

“Defense Against the Dark Arts. But, I have some time to get there.”

“Yeah, Herbology doesn’t start for another hour. Come on,” Kibum said, grabbing Minho’s arm and leading him away from the moving staircases. “Let’s go study in the library while we wait.”

* - * - *

The mild summer morning turned cold and dreary in the middle of lunch. Kibum looked up when rain started to fall. Great. Perfect, even. Of course, it would start raining before he had to take his Flying exam. It could have been a cloudless summer’s day with no wind and he would still have been terrified to get up on that broomstick. Kibum shivered and pulled his robe tightly around himself.

At least, Minho would be with him.

He peeked around Aaron to catch a glimpse of Minho across the Hall, only to find him eating happily. Kibum sighed with a small smile. He wished he was hungry now, but he was glad that Minho was able to eat again. He glared at his full plate of food when his stomach churned. Hopefully, he’d be hungry by dinner.

When he looked back across the Hall, Minho was nowhere to be seen. Kibum sat up a little straighter, searching the Hufflepuff table and then around the Hall. Where...Kibum stood and frowned, glancing down at Callum when he called his name.

“What’s wrong?”

Kibum shrugged and glanced over at the door to find Minho waving him over. He cocked his head, and Minho waved harder. “Nothing. I’m fine.” Once he stepped over the bench, he hurried over to Minho in the doorway.

“Follow me,” Minho said, nodding over to the staircase to the basement. They stepped off to the side to let a couple of the other Hufflepuff girls pass. Minho leaned around Kibum to watch them leave before he dug his hands into his pocket and produced two wrapped soft caramels.

“What.”

“They’re from Madam Pomfrey. Chamomile Caramels.” Kibum took one out of Minho’s hand and sniffed it as he unwrapped it. “I know you’re nervous about Flying and she said that the help with exam -- “ his forehead scrunched in concentration “ -- jitters, so...”

Smiling, Kibum popped it into his mouth. His eyebrows rose and he hummed as he chewed. There was a hint of honey in the caramel, and it reminded Kibum of the many cups of tea Grandma had fixed him over the years. He sighed as the tension in his chest started to loosen.

Minho stuffed the other caramel into his robe pocket. “I’ll save the other one for when we get out to the Quidditch pitch.” He froze when he met Kibum’s gaze, his eyes widening. “Did you not like it?”

“No, it was good.” Minho grinned and relaxed. “Thanks.”

“Yeah, it was, uh, no problem.” He glanced around Kibum to the door. “You wanna go?”

Dread settled in the pit of Kibum’s stomach. “Sure.”

Minho led the way out of the stairwell and he followed the crowd through the corridor. They almost lost each other in the crowd but Kibum latched onto Minho’s robe sleeve. He let Minho guide them through the hall and out into the lawn.

Rain battered them as they ran to the safety of the Quidditch pitch. Kibum pulled his robe over his head to keep himself as dry as possible and helped Minho up when he slipped on the slick grass. Once they were under the safety of the stands, everyone huddled together to stay warm as they waited for Madam Hooch.

“Are...” Kibum cleared his throat and Minho scooted a little closer. “Are you nervous for this, too?”

“A little. I wasn’t expecting it to rain.” Kibum’s teeth chattered and he peered around Minho at the other first years. “It’ll be okay. Do you want to go before me or after me?”

“Uh...”

Any response died on the tip of his tongue as the ominous clicks of Madam Hooch’s heels echoed in the hallway. All the first years hurried to stand and trailed after her as she walked to the other end of the hall. “Jeffers, Brent, Russell...get the ponchos out of the gear closet. There should be enough for everyone.” Marcus, Damian, and Nick broke free of the group and ran down the hall, their shoes squeaking on the tiles. “Vitton and Reed, get the hoops from the Ravenclaw locker room. Everyone else, follow me.”

Hooch waved her hand and the doors swung open to let them onto the empty Quidditch pitch. Kibum stayed pressed to Minho’s side as they followed her onto the pitch. She clicked her fingers, and the walls rolled up to reveal the cupboards where they kept Cleansweep Sixteens. Kibum let out a huff of a sigh, and Minho grabbed his hand, squeezing it slightly.

“Once you get a poncho, grab a broom -- thank you Vitton,” she said as Marshall handed her the practice hoops. “Once you have your broom, join me on the pitch.”

With that, she stepped over the chalk line on the grass and everyone hurried back over to the entrance of the hall where Damian and Marcus were passing out the clear ponchos. Minho let go of Kibum’s hand once they reached the front of the line. Damian passed them both a poncho and Kibum slipped his on as they went over to get their brooms.

“How do I look?” Kibum asked, arranging the crinkled hood around his face.

Minho snorted and grabbed two brooms, passing one to him. “Like you’re wearing a poncho.”

Kibum smacked his arm and spritzed his face with the rain on Minho’s poncho. He sputtered and Minho laughed, almost losing his grip on his broom. Kibum sniffed a laugh and turned away, heading to the pitch by himself. Wet footsteps chased him until Minho caught up with him, his amusement still evident as he let out the occasional chuckle.

The practice rings hung over the students, the raindrops creating a tinny, syncopated melody overhead. Kibum looked up at them, squeezing his eyes shut when several raindrops fell in them. Minho snickered off to his right, and Kibum elbowed him. He nudged back, but then caught Kibum when he almost fell into Tracy.

“Sorry,” they both mouthed to her before Hooch blew her whistle, garnering everyone’s attention.

“All right.” Her voice rang out across the empty pitch. “I know this is unfortunate weather to take your practical flying final in, but...you can’t expect perfect weather everytime you fly.” Kibum took a deep breath and Minho glanced over at him, opening his hand for Kibum to take.

He did.

“So, I will be timing you all as you fly the course I have plotted out,” she gestured over her head at the rings. Kibum’s eyes followed all the way up to the highest goal post. He whimpered quietly, and Minho squeezed his hand. Once you reach the top, turn right around and come back through the course. Your time will stop and your exam will be over and you can return to the castle.”

Minho turned to him, whispering, “When do you want to go?” Kibum shrugged. He wondered if Minho could feel his hand shaking. “As soon as possible to get it over with?”

“I guess.”

“Do you want me to go before you or after?”

Madam Hooch brought her stopwatch out of her robes. “Any takers for the first go?”

Kibum looked over at Minho, meeting his wide eyes. “After, I think.” Would he feel better after seeing Minho go through the through the course? Possibly. It was worth a shot, at least. Minho released his hand and dug into his pocket, passing Kibum the other Chamomile Caramel.

“I’ll go, Madam Hooch,” Minho said, waving his hand over the heads of the others. The second Minho stepped away from him, Kibum unwrapped the caramel and popped it in his mouth, opting to suck on it this time rather than chewing it. Minho ducked out of his sight once he reached Hooch -- probably setting his broomstick on the ground. Kibum stood up on his tiptoes to see him over the others. “Up!” Minho said, a little smile appearing when his broom came to him.

“Ready?” Hooch asked him, and Minho nodded. She blew her whistle, and he was off.

His hood was blown back the second he started flying, and Kibum hugged his broom as he watched. Minho whizzed through the hoops, his body hunched closer to the broom the higher into the course he flew. Once he reached the goal post, he paused, wiping the rain off his face. Kibum was going to count how long it was taking him, but he forgot to do so the second Minho took off.

If he were being honest, Kibum didn’t care if he was the slowest time in the history of Flying exams. As long as he passed and survived this...ordeal...he would consider it to be a success.

Also, he would never ride a broomstick again, unless it was absolutely necessary.

Minho was grinning by the time he reached the end of the course, his hair slicked back by the wind and the rain. He found Kibum in the crowd, giving him a quick thumbs up and nodding him over. Kibum swallowed the rest of the caramel as he made his way through the group, dragging his broom through the grass behind him.

“You did good,” Hooch said to Minho as she made some notes in her notebook. “Your posture was a little too tense, but otherwise, good. You’ll relax with time.”

“Thank you, Madam Hooch.”

“You can go back now.” She looked over Minho’s head at Kibum. “Are you next?” Her tone seemed surprised, and at any other time, Kibum would have laughed.

“Yes, Madam Hooch.” His stomach lurched as he set his broomstick on the ground. Kibum pulled his hood further over his head, the crinkling of the poncho loud in his ears.

“Whenever you’re ready, Mr. Kim.”

Kibum scoffed internally. Like he would ever be ready. He turned, getting a glimpse of Minho, who was standing a few steps behind Hooch. Kibum let out a long sigh and glared at his broom. “Up!” He winced as it smacked against his hand, and he tightened his grip on it. Reluctantly, he mounted his broom. He thought he might not hear the whistle due to his heartbeat pounding in his ears, and he almost didn’t.

It was faint, but there. Kibum groaned and pushed off from the ground.

His flight was wobbly and uncertain -- what else was new -- and he tightened his grip on the rain-slick broom handle. When he flew into one of the rings, he realized he had had his eyes closed since he left the ground. Slowly, he pried open his eyes. “Don’t look down, Kibum. Don’t loo -- shit.”

He looked down.

Kibum sat there, frozen, staring at the ground far beyond his broomstick. So high...he was up so, so high.

Through the whipping wind and pattering rain, he heard a distant “You can do it, Kibum!” Minho? He wiped the rain from out of his eyes with a shaking hand, and steeled his resolve with a deep breath. He could do this...he could.

Clenching his jaw, he pressed on, his heartbeat doing a rapid staccato in his ears by the time he reached the goal post. Kibum turned around, his eyes squeezing shut again. “You’re okay, you’re okay. You’re halfway done.” His broom shook as he crept through the course and slowly, but surely, returned to the ground.

Never in his life had he been so grateful for the feeling of solid ground beneath his feet. Kibum sighed heavily and leaned on his broomstick as he made his way over to Hooch. His gaze flicked to Minho for a second, and he gave him a tiny nod, which seemed to make Minho relax.

“You did all right, Mr. Kim. I know how nervous you are about flying. You should be proud.”

Kibum gulped, glancing at the waiting students. “Did I pass?”

Hooch raised an eyebrow as she read over her notes. “I’m not really allowed to say, yet, but...” she gave him the slightest nod. Kibum was thankful that he was leaning on his broom or else he might have collapsed in his relief. “You can return to the castle now, Mr. Kim. Who’s next?” she asked once Kibum walked past her.

Once he reached Minho, he rubbed Kibum’s back until they reached the broom cupboards. He kept telling Kibum how proud he was of him, but all Kibum heard was the vaguely fuzzy sounds of Minho’s voice and the ringing in his ears. His body was numb yet tingling at the same time. Minho took his broom and put it in its place, holding his arm when Kibum swayed.

“ -- um...Kibum...”

“Hmm?”

“Are you all right?”

Kibum wiped the rain off his face and blinked. “I, uh, I think I need to, uh...” He swayed again, this time he reached out to Minho to steady himself.

“I think you need to sit down.” Minho hooked Kibum’s arm over his shoulders. “Lean on me.” He guided Kibum through the hallway and out the other side, changing course and taking him to the nearest stairwell tower that lead to the stands. Once Kibum was sitting, Minho slipped out of his poncho and helped Kibum out of his. “How are you feeling?”

How was he feeling? Kibum thought for a moment, his eyes drooping closed. “Tired.” Minho nodded and started rubbing some warmth into Kibum’s arms. It was then that Kibum noticed that he was shivering. “Relieved too, I think.”

“I bet.”

“You did r-really good,” Kibum said, his teeth chattering.

“So did you.”

He scoffed. “I will never get on a broomstick again for as long as I live.” Minho laughed, resting his forehead on Kibum’s shoulder. “I’m serious. I swear it on my life!”

“I believe you.”

“Good.”

At least ten other first years returned to the castle and both Minho and Kibum followed their progress across the lawn. It wasn’t long until the rain lessened to a drizzle, and Minho gathered their ponchos. “I’m gonna go return these, are you ready to go back?” Kibum nodded as Minho stood. “Okay, I’ll be back in a minute.”

True to his word, he was back in less than a minute, and he was slightly breathless. Minho helped him up, grinning at him when he could stand on his own.

“What do you think about getting some hot cocoa once we get back inside?”

Kibum clicked his tongue and started walking, Minho stepping up beside him. “I’m not gonna lie, I think that’s your best idea yet.”

Minho laughed heartily, all open-mouthed and crinkled eyes, and Kibum looked over at him, smiling himself.

* - * - *

A light rapping on the door hushed the chatter of the Hufflepuff first years. Minho and the others looked to Seb, who finished rolling a pair of his socks. He tossed them into his trunk and opened the door.

“How’s packing coming?” Rhys asked, glancing around the practically bare room.

“Good,” Seb said, and Travis reiterated. Minho and the others nodded mutely. For his part, Minho was preoccupied with the ivory envelopes that Rhys patted against his palm.

Rhys cleared his throat. “That’s good. I have your report cards,” he said, holding the envelopes up. “Don’t forget to show these to your parents when you get home tomorrow. Sebastian, here.” Seb grabbed his report card and went over to his bed. “Eli. Travis. Marvin. Minho.” He got up from the floor and took the envelope, bowing slightly before he went back to his place by his duffle bag. “And Gilbert, here. Okay, dinner starts in fifteen minutes. Don’t be late.”

With that, Rhys closed the door behind him.

“‘Kay, Muuum,” Travis said, rolling his eyes. “I hope Tanner is Head Boy next year.”

“You’re just saying that because he’s your brother.”

Minho snorted and looked down at the bright yellow wax seal on the back of the envelope. Was it even possible that he passed any of his classes? There was only one way to find out. With a deep breath, Minho popped open the wax seal and unfolded the parchment.

Choi Minho -- 1st year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry -- has succeeded in getting these grades for his classes this 2003-2004 term.

Astronomy -- Exceeds Expectations

Charms -- Exceeds Expectations

Defense Against the Dark Arts -- Acceptable

Flying -- Exceeds Expectations

Herbology -- Exceeds Expectations

History of Magic -- Acceptable

Potions -- Acceptable

Transfiguration -- Acceptable

“I...I passed?”

“Way to go, buddy!” Gilbert said, grinning at him from his bed. “So did I!”

Minho grinned at him as he returned his report card to the envelope and sat up. He couldn’t believe he had made it through this first year on top. Sure, he hadn’t gotten any Outstandings, but he was still happy. It...it meant that he could come back next year, that he could be a wizard. A warm sort of hopefulness bloomed in his chest as he tossed his report card into his duffle bag.

“Save me a seat at dinner!” he said before he closed the door behind him.

He parted the mess of vines that covered the entrance to the common room from the dorm rooms with the back of his hand, and hopped down to the hardwood floor. Sunlight gilded the beige brick walls and cinnamon wood floors, making the common room almost glow. Minho took off running across the room, gliding through the sunbeams on his socked feet. He stopped sliding before he hit the outside walls and hunkered down to put on his shoes.

Once he clambered through the tunnel and the barrel was closed behind him, Minho darted down the hall toward Slytherin. When he turned the corner, he ran directly into Analecia, but caught her before she toppled over.

“Oh my gosh, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay,” she said, tucking her hair behind her ear with a shy smile. “I’m fine.”

Minho sighed in relief and let go of her arms. “Have you seen Kibum?”

“Uh, yeah.” She pointed over her shoulder to the hallway, where the faint green light from the entrance was disappearing as the bricks returned to their places. “He was just in the common room. Want me to go get him?”

He peered around her at the dark, damp corridor. “If you don’t mind.” She nodded and hurried back toward the Slytherin entrance, letting herself inside.

Minho squinted as he looked back on the Hufflepuff side of the basement. The torchlight seemed so much brighter and the hallway far more inviting than the Slytherin side. As he looked back to Slytherin, the torchlight was an almost sickly green. He shivered as the bricks shifted to reveal the greenish light from the common room. A pair of silhouettes was cast across the stone floor, and Minho took a step into the shadows. One of the dark figures started running toward him, and once they were closer to him, he saw that it was Kibum.

“So?” he asked, slightly panting. “How’d you do?”

“Passed!” He grunted when Kibum pulled him into a tight hug. “Passed all of them. You?”

Kibum nodded against his shoulder and patted Minho’s back before he let him go. “I got one Outstanding, which surprised me, but the rest of them are Exceeds Expectations and Acceptables.”

“Oh?” Minho started for the stairwell and Kibum followed him. “What’d you get the Outstanding in?”

“Flying.”

Minho’s brow furrowed and he looked over at Kibum, who was struggling to keep a straight face. They both burst out laughing and collapsed into each other. Kibum kept trying to answer Minho’s question, but every time he did, they both just started giggling again. Everyone who walked past them on the stairs stepped around them with either a groan or a grin.

Eventually, they made it to the top of the stairwell and to the Great Hall. Minho pushed Kibum away from him in the doorway. “I’ll see you after!” Kibum called out to him as they walked to their tables on opposite sides of the Great Hall.

“How’d Kibum do?” Gilbert asked once Minho took his seat.

“Good! He passed, too.”

Travis was about to say something, but Headmaster McGonagall stepped up to the podium, quieting the room.

“Yet another year has come and gone, quite successfully, too, I think. To the first years, I hope that Hogwarts has been a home away from home for you and that you learned something new. To the seventh years, I trust that you are ready to join the wizarding community and make a positive difference in our world. To everyone in between, I hope your heads are a little fuller than the year before, and I look forward to seeing you in the halls next year.”

Somewhere in the middle of her speech, Travis had taken his envelope out of his pocket and ripped it into strips. When he folded it into a triangle, he captured Minho and Marvin’s attention. They watched as he held it upright with his finger and poised his other hand to flick it. Both Marvin and Minho formed a goalpost with their hands, but Marvin was quicker, so Travis flicked it toward him. He aimed too high and hit Marvin square in the chest.

All six of them giggled, trying to muffle it behind their hands. But, Rhys, who sat several seats down, clicked his fingers and fixed them all with a stern look. They sobered quickly -- aside from the occasional giggle that shook their shoulders.

“As for the House Cup, the points stand as follows: In fourth place, Gryffindor with 326; in third, Hufflepuff with 377; in second,” she paused, when excited chatter erupted at both the Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables. McGonagall tapped her wand on the podium, and the Great Hall fell silent. “In second; Slytherin -- “ The entire Ravenclaw table rose to their feet, cheering loudly and hugging each other. McGonagall placed the tip of her wand against her throat, magnifying her voice over the din. “ -- with 401; and Ravenclaw in first, with 419 points.”

There was a small smile adorning the Headmaster’s usually stoic expression as she waved her hand. The large House banners lining the walls billowed as they changed from red and gold, green and silver, and yellow and black to all blue and bronze. Colorful sparks rained down from the stars, most likely caused by Professor Flitwick, who was dancing happily on the professor’s table.

“Now then, let’s eat!” McGonagall waved her arms out wide and the end-of-term feast appeared before them all.

Minho piled his food high, not caring if the different dishes touched like Kibum seemed to sometimes. When he was dishing up his second helping, he stood up halfway to see if Kibum was eating well, too. He hadn’t really eaten much in the past few days, since he had been stressed about the exams. To his relief, it looked like he was.

It was a merry feast, everyone recounting stories from the past year. Marvin kept trying to retell the time that he had accidentally let a bird into their room, but he kept laughing too hard and ended up spitting mashed potatoes all over Travis. Before Travis could retaliate, Rhys stopped him with a firm “Hey!”

Once the food was cleared and the Head Students gathered their housemates, they started filing out of the Great Hall. Minho hung to the back of the Hufflepuff crowd, lingering at the corner between the houses while he waited for Slytherin. He perked up when there was a stampede of footsteps coming down the stairwell. Charlie smiled pleasantly at Minho as he led the Slytherins down the hallway, and Minho stood on his tiptoes to try to find Kibum.

“Min-hooo!” He grinned when Kibum broke free of the group and ran over to him.

“Congratulations on second.”

“Oh, yeah, that was all me.” Minho snorted and pushed Kibum, who grinned cheekily. “Thanks, though. See you in the morning?”

“Yeah, we’ll sit together on the way back home.”

“Okay. Oh, hey...” he lowered his voice and stepped closer to Minho. “Were you able to write your parents?” Minho huffed and nodded. He wrote to them for the first time in months to let them know that he would be coming home tomorrow. He could only hope that they got his letter since he couldn’t be sure. “Don’t worry,” Kibum said, patting Minho’s shoulder. “Grandma said she’d take you to them if they don’t show up.”

Minho sighed, feeling somewhat relieved. “Okay.”

A voice called out from Kibum’s side of the hall, and they both looked toward the sound. “I gotta go. Good night, Choi.”

“Night, Bummie,” he said, watching Kibum run down the hall of the green light of the common room. Kibum waved before he stepped inside, and Minho raised his voice. “See you in the morning!”

* - * - *

A/N:

Minho, to Kibum: Lean on me...

My brain: lean_on_me.mp3

#minkey #shinee fic #shinee au #shineefic #shinee fics #hogwarts!minkey au #ff: by my side #mine #my writing #10/10 completely made up the exam schedule lmao #because i forgot which classes they were taking with which houses #and i really wanted to make that forgetfulness joke so here we are #because they both take charms/potions with gryffindor and anyways #ven-trin-fi is how you pronounce the potion #it means upset stomach and it's basically the wizarding world's version of peptobismol #how do i know this? i made it tf up specifically for this chapter lmao #god i hope this chapter isn't too boring #i really like it but like it might be too descriptive #idk #i'm always worried about boring people with my prose #ugh #anyways #I would get really anxious like Minho did before a text #i haaaaated taking tests #@ Jo would it have killed you to show at least some exams in the books/movies #lmao okay so this turned out to be a hell of a lot longer than I was expecting #also #Mari and I discussed whether 12yos would be cussing at this time and we concluded that yes they would....#'fuck' will probably wait until they're 14/15 which honestly will be hard for me because of how much I cuss irl lmao #but that's okay

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jeonghanniesfool · 7 years ago

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200 Followers Drabble Game

Hey guys! So... this was supposed to be for my 100 followers celebration, but somehow in the time it took me to get stuff out again, I hit 200 followers!! Thank you all for letting me get to this point. 200 followers is insane. So, I sat down and thought up 100 different phrases for you all!

Well here’s the drabble game~

Rules: Choose up to 2 prompts, ONE member of either BTS or SVT, and a genre, and send it into my request box!

You can also send in a brief description of the scenario you want to make it a little easier on me or just give me the creative freedom!

You don’t have to specify a genre if you don’t want to. Please remember that I don’t write smut! I will start these as soon as I’ve cleared out the current requests in my inbox.

I typed all these prompts up myself and it took foreevverr XD

1. “I like like you.”

2. “You don’t have to do this for me.”

3. “Stop messing with me.”

4. “You’re perfect and no one can tell you otherwise.”

5. “I could love no one else.”

6. “That was the last one, how dare you!”

7. “I dare you to run out in the streets wearing only this bathrobe.”

8. “Keep your eyes on me.”

9. “You don’t deserve this.”

10. “Tell me that again to my face”

11. “You’re wrong.”

12. “Look up at the sky and tell me what you see.”

13. “Please, just this one time?”

14. “What do you think you’re doing? There are people around here!”

15. “Our love is like a ______” (You can choose a word to fill in)

16. “How dare you show your face here after you did that.”

17. “You can’t see yet!”

18. “Take care of yourself.”

19. “Hold my hand for a minute, would you?.”

20. “Don’t leave my side.”

21. “I really don’t like you.”

22. “I couldn’t tell that was you.”

23. “Why are you even here?”

24. “I need a place to stay.”

25. “...Did you take my underwear?”

26. “Stop lying to me.”

27. “Oh go jump off a cliff.”

28. “Have you ever looked at your face in the mirror?”

29. “But I’m allergic to that.”

30. “Why is there a horse in our house?”

31. “You’re asking me to choose between you and my homework?”

32. “I’m a fool for you.”

33. “Hello? I think my girlfriend went crazy.”

34. “You’re asking me to kiss a complete stranger?”

35. “I have no idea who you are.”

36. “Did you just dab?”

37. “You’re late.”

38. “Hey, pay attention to me!”

39. “Tell me your phone password.”

40. “What do you think of this outfit?”

41. “Are you okay?”

42. “Have you eaten today?”

43. “I’m dating your best friend.”

44. “It was a joke, I swear.”

45. “No kiss until you kill that spider!”

46. “You watched the last episode without me?”

47. “I can’t go on with this anymore.”

48. “Call me when you get home.”

49. “On a scale from 1-10, you’re probably a 5.”

50. “What do you mean the girl in your picture is your sister?”

51. “Oh my gosh I love you--r dog so much.”

52. “At least tell me that you loved me once.”

53. “Is this really the choice you’re going to make?”

54. “I don’t understand what you’re so insecure about. You’re beautiful.”

55. “You’re such a bad influence.”

56. “I don’t want to cry in front of you.”

57. “I’m dangerous. Don’t come near me.”

58. “Let’s just share a drink.”

59. “Why don’t you stay here for the night?”

60. “Do you need a hug?”

61. “Why would you date someone like me when you could have anyone you wanted?”

62. “I hate math. I’m quitting school.”

63. “Why don’t you ever make time for me?”

64. “Give me back my hoodies, you thief.”

65. “Hey stranger, you just took the last album. We need to fight to the death now.”

66. “Careful, you might attract someone.”

67. “I’m not doing that again.”

68. “You can try, but it won’t work.”

69. “Get out of the way before I murder you.”

70. “Watch and learn, sweetheart.”

71. “I married you. Your dad told me ‘No give backs.’”

72. “Are you dying though?”

73. “I know I’m hot, but stop staring at me.”

74. “Is there a reason why you left me?”

75. “Woah! I didn’t think you were that type of person!”

76. “You’re the right size for me.”

77. “Do you come with a receipt? I need to return you.”

78. “I wrote a song for you. Want to hear?”

79. “You don’t have to be afraid of singing in front of me.”

80. “Let’s ride the ferris wheel!”

81. “You can do it! I believe in you.”

82. “As long as you and I are together, we can do anything.”

83. “What do you mean I’m not your bias?”

84. “Are you scared?”

85. “I think it’s fate that brought you to me.”

86. “Do you believe in soulmates?”

87. “But what if your family hates me?”

88. “Don’t leave me here like this. I thought you loved me.”

89. “I’m breaking up with you if you don’t get me a dog.”

90. “What do you mean you ship me with ________?”

91. “Tell me when you’re driving so I stay off the road.”

92. “The reason why you can’t count all the stars in the sky is because they represent my love for you. It’s infinite.”

93. “Hey babe I bought your favorite drink for you.”

94. “You don’t need to thank me. Being by your side is thanks enough.”

95. “Who hurt you? I’ll beat them up.”

96. “I would wait an eternity for you.”

97. “Even if you can’t love yourself, I love you.”

98. “I never loved you anyway.”

99. “Don’t make a fool out of me.”

100. “I��ve always loved you.”

#seventeen imagines #bts imagines #drabble game #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #bts fluff #bts angst #200 followers #seventeen scenarios #bts scenarios #seventeen #bts #i am not ready for this #i'm going to be so overwhelmed i can feel it #oh well #it's all for you guys anyway

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dpargyle · 7 years ago

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Winter of My Discontents

Alright, moving on –

So this is the first day of shit weather this year where I live. It’s weird – growing up in New York I remember the seasons – but here we only have two – winter and construction. It goes from 80 to 40 (F) in about a week – so yesterday was 75 and sunny and I could read outside and actually talk to people and today it’s 59 and rainy and cloudy and I just wanna set everything on fire.

I fucking hate it.

Kids – I fucking hate winter. It glooms over you – and everything goes from bright and outside to monochrome and “fuck you.” My wheelchair can’t go over the snow and it snows here from like the beginning of November to the middle of April and all of those months here I loathe. Summer’s ok here but you’re still surrounded by religious lunatics.

Nobody plows their fucking sidewalk in winter so I have to literally risk my life by driving my wheelchair in the middle of roads with cars in order to cross my own godsdamn street just to get food and now this year

my Dad wants me to come into the office three times a week.

(So – to explain my work situation – OK – so technically I’m unemployed – and that’s cuz of the stupid fucking government who says like “oh you’re making above this much money as a person in a wheelchair? Well in that case Medicaid isn’t gonna pay for your attendants to help you get up in the morning and go to bed at night (I’d need to make, like, 25k or so a year to afford that basically)” and also if you save literally one dollar more than $2,000 at one time on all your bank accounts combined we’ll also cut your Medicaid funding for the attendants and very expensive medical equipment (my chair costs 36k every 5 years) as well!” so I’m very much hamstrung by bureaucratic bullshit) –

so in order to get around all this nonsense – I (with the help of my family) am officially unemployed but I live in an apartment that’s technically rented by my Dad’s company – and in return I write and edit (and have been for like 6 years now) an e-magazine about the 3D Printing Industry (I don’t put my name on it though because again, government…) – which is kinda interesting and has allowed me to do both that and focus on my creative work as well – and I also do some freelance writing and one time an artistic thing for the company as well – (that money gets funneled to a bank account the government doesn’t know about) but mostly I’m glad I’ve had these jobs but they’re not…I don’t get excited about them. I know other people might, but – I’m not one of them hahaha. I really want to work creatively, but you know…)

In any case, while my Dad does run the main company as CEO he didn’t hire me – it wasn’t his idea – the owner of the company (who has lots of $$$) – after a year of me searching for jobs after college (very unsuccessfully) called me up one day and was like “you’re doing this for us now” and I needed to move out of my folks’ house ASAP so I was like “OK” –

But now my Dad wants me to come in to the office on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays – and I totally understand his reasoning (he’s trying to help me out) – he thinks that if I’m in the office other people there will involve me more in freelance-type work and I’ll be able to earn more $ - and this is probably true – and he also wants me to “get out of your warren” – cuz he knows my brother was basically the only person I interacted with socially in this entire city on any regular basis and now that he’s gone, well….

So my Dad seems to think being social with the other workers or something will be good for me? I mean maybe he’s right but I know everyone in there and they’re all super old and while they’re very nice I don’t have much in common with them and even if I did it’s still super awkward cuz I’m the boss’s son and it’s just awkward – I mean this is part of the reason why my brother left anyway – he worked there for three years but after those three years he was ready to not work at his Dad’s company anymore – and plus he and his wife fuckin hated Utah anyway and I don’t blame them at all I mostly hate it too haahahaha (cries)…

Though if I’m being honest anywhere I’d live I’d probably find all the flaws in real quick…

But maybe somewhere like California where actual things happen and I don’t have to fucking war against winter every year…

Cuz like I’ve tried the work many days a week with a commute in this city – and in summer it’s ok – there’s a very good tram-line system and I’m close to a station (for this purpose) – but in winter…

So for the first year I lived in Salt Lake I was working the magazine job and I was also working at the local Apple Store as well and that winter I literally nearly died commuting cuz I was super tired all the time (my fatigue tolerance level is super low) and dealing with customers and then doing the magazine job and then I was trying to write a book in my free time (it was the first one I wrote and it was complete shit but I’m proud of it cuz it was the first thing I’d ever finished) but I was basically operating at only 15% power and then one night I was on the train platform and there was ice and I slipped off it and half my wheelchair and I fell into the gap between the platform and the train and if that train operator hadn’t seen me he would’ve pulled out of the station and I woulda been warm meat paste…

(I nearly die at least six times a year…)

And that was the night I decided I’d quit that Apple job cuz no job is worth that hellish commute.

Even in subtler ways, though the winter is a killer for me here – there are days when the weather or the pressure changes and my right shoulder (the arm I drive my power wheelchair with) is in so much agony I can hardly move at all – and this lasts 2 or 3 days sometimes 4 –

and then they have these frikken godsforsaken mines here and we’re in this bowl-shaped valley so they mine all this dust into the air and so there’s this inversion here in winter and you can literally visibly see the dust in the air and your throat burns for like four months straight and it’s like the fuckin dust bowl or something god I hate unregulated red states…

And to top it all off, when I travel a lot in the cold my feet rub against my shoes which happened when I commuted to the apple store and by the end of that year I had sores on my heels that took 6 months to heal and in that time one of my best friends from high school died and I couldn’t travel to his funeral because I couldn’t even get out of my door and….I hated myself for that – I’d let him down (again.)

To be honest with you – when I first got offered that job at Apple I was so proud and happy and excited – I’d been looking for a job for a year after college and I looked everywhere – all over the world – in every industry I could think of – and there was just nothing. Nobody even offered me an interview before they did – and I have self-esteem issues anyway so I started thinking – like – is it cuz I’m in a wheelchair? Is that why nobody wants me? (I really have issues dealing with any kind of rejection because of this…)

But then Apple came along and said ��Yes!” And I was like OMG this is amazing – I’m doing retail but it’s gonna be in an interesting (kind of) industry and I’m gonna work with young peeps like me and I’m gonna do creative stuff in my free time and slowly work my way up the ladder and I’m still young I got tons of time to do everything and be everywhere I wanna be going…and then the month before I had the job orientation with Apple my old high school friend had the sudden accident which would lead to his passing a few months later – and….nothing mattered like it had anymore…

He was hovering between life and death all the way in New York and I was in Utah doing…what? Selling expensive crap to rich Mormons? Nothing made sense anymore. For six years before that point I’d been an insufferable evangelical Christian zealot – and although for two years my faith had been wavering due to me beginning to question its draconian teachings – at that point I still had it – but then this happened and very quickly what little faith I’d been holding onto died with my friend.

I’m glad I’ve grown in my empathy and inclusiveness since then – but on the other hand, I feel I’ve lost something…

And then a month after my friend’s accident I had to present myself to Apple and be an enthusiastic team player filled with evangelism for the products and I just…I couldn’t do it…I remember that week so vividly too cuz that was the week George Lucas sold Lucasfilm to Disney and they announced they were doing MORE STAR WARS and I was like holy fuck that’s what I wanna do – maybe not necessarily Star Wars (though !!!) – but telling stories and weaving myths – and making a thing that MATTERED to people – that moved them and shook them and changed them and nourished them and gave them some godsdamned fucking hope in this unjust world…

But I was stuck here in Utah…

So I started writing that book and I pushed myself so incredibly hard cuz literally by that point it was the only thing that mattered to me and made sense – feeling like I’d been put on this Earth to make art and I wasn’t gonna waste anymore time because maybe I didn’t have anymore time, you know?

And like I couldn’t connect with my coworkers – they were my age but many of them were Mormons with whole families they were supporting and most of the rest (save for my good friend @soundscomplicated) – I just…it was hard to connect to. In college I’d been surrounded by interesting people who challenged my brain and soul parts (at least sometimes – though academia drove me nuts) …but now….now I was stuck in the wasteland with no way out…

I finished the book and it was crap but at least I’d done something. Then I made that personal safety decision to quit Apple and for the last four years I’ve been working from home…

And this past year or so I finally began to put it all together again maybe – my drawing skills were improving – I was writing another book that scared the crap outta me (but that was a good thing) – about a group of nerds who lost someone close to them and whose worlds were turned upside down as a result – where the protagonist was a kid in a wheelchair like me and for the first time I felt like I was writing something IMPORTANT that MATTERED that might move people – letting out all my pain and hope and regret and love -

But then I sent it out to potential agents and waited and waited and waited for months and months and literally none of them even sent me a solid rejection. It was all just nothingness into the void. I understand they get so many submissions though so I tried not to take it personally –

And I decided this story and these words that I’d finished were important enough for me to publish on Amazon – so I did – and it was one of the proudest moments of my life (this was back in April or so) but then – nobody bought it. And it’s not like I expected to make out like gangbusters – I don’t know anything about marketing or being social media savvy (I mean just witness the godsdamned length of this friggen post hahaha) – but I thought at least everyone in my extended family would buy it – but nope. It sold like 11 copies. Let’s just say I will love those 11 people forever but I just…

Like I’d killed myself over this fucking book. I went down into the deepest parts of my soul and ripped them out for all the world to see – I didn’t do anything but this book. I did my paying work for the company but hanging out with people other than my brother sometimes? I didn’t have time. I didn’t have the energy.

In the flesh connections are so hard and when you’re working on something you truly believe in – well – you feel compelled to WORK WORK WORK and where was I gonna meet people here anyway?

This story mattered more than my own happiness.

And now that it hasn’t done well? What was it all for? Really? It’s not that I’m not totally effing proud of what came out – I am – probably more than any other art I’ve ever made – but…I dunno I guess I just have delusions of grandeur for myself…sometimes I feel like if I’m not Shakespeare – if I can’t support myself with my art – I’m a failure.

I’ve failed. My life has been a waste!

And then I sit back and I try to remind myself that’s an incredibly toxic and terrible way of thinking but at this point I literally can’t help it…

I don’t know what to work on next creatively. And now I’m having to spend more time away from my creative stuff and I don’t want to – I really don’t give a shit about the meager extra money I’m gonna get by going into the office – I want those hours I’m gonna waste there back! I don’t want to spend more hours not doing what I was born on this earth to do.

That probably sounds super privileged of me and I’m lucky to be where I am and blah blah blah but I just……and when the winter really comes and there’s snow on the ground I literally will not be able to go to the office (or even leave my apartment easily for that matter) and my Dad understands that – but I just…

Maybe I just don’t want to do that stuff anymore? I’m probably coming across as a super lazy and ungrateful person – and I am, but…

I just don’t have many friends here anyway and spending energy on commuting is just not gonna help that at all and I see no way out and I’m literally crying as I type this and I want OUT OUT OUT so bad but I don’t know what that means or what that looks like and I am cold and scared and lonely and tired and

For the past month it’s been warm and sunny and I’ve had Blondie to distract me from all this pain and mounting mediocrity and it’s been nice cuz I haven’t really had a crush in the flesh since college – like literally the last girl I allowed myself to fall for is now married with two kids hahaha and that night I got my head stuck in the fridge and I didn’t say this in the original post but

I was literally kind of sobbing because my brother was leaving (he’s gone now) and I don’t have many good friends (especially here) and my book I cared so much about fucking crashed and burned and I put my fucking soul into that thing and it wasn’t good enough I’M NEVER GOOD ENOUGH and then my chair crapped out and I was about to die and I cried for like an hour (I haven’t cried like that in like seven years – since before my friend died) but then I stopped crying cuz Leia’s Theme came on my shuffle and it gave me some hope so instead of crying I was yelling and then somebody busted open my front door

And she was literally an angel and just sweet and all my everything just washed away and everything was OK but now – it’s just – that distraction is fading away and I am facing my reality and…

As with every winter here, I am growing restless…

#tales from the wasteland

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libralita · 7 years ago

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Title: The Scrivener’s Bones

Author: Brandon Sanderson

Illustrations: Hayley Lazo

Summary: In this second Alcatraz adventure, Alcatraz finds himself on a mission to meet Grandpa Smedry when he gets swept up by a flying glass dragon filled with his unusual and mouthy Smedry cohorts.

Their mission? A dangerous, library-filled one, of course!

They are on their way to the ancient and mysterious Library of Alexandria (which some silly people think was long ago destroyed!) where they must find Grandpa Smedry, look for clues leading to Alcatraz's potentially undead dead father, and battle the creepy, dangerous soul-sucking curators who await them.

Rating: ★★★★★

Review:

This book we got new characters and go to the Library of Alexandria to try and find Grandpa Smedry and maybe someone else…It wasn’t as…batshit crazy as the first one. Perhaps because I’m used to the weirdness or Sanderson toned to down for…y’know plot. However, I still enjoyed it!

“Dangerous, but unseen. (Kind of like those troublemakers who read fantasy novels.)”—Page 16

Yeah…Hey wait a minute!

“There was a pause. A dreadful, terrible, long annoying, frustrating, deadly, nerve-racking, incredibly wordy pause.”—Page 27

We get it!

“It’s because of people like you that we authors have to clog our second books with all kinds of explanations. We have to, essentially, invent the wheel again—or at least renew our patent.”—Page 35

Recaps are annoying.

“That was intended to teach you something: that I’m completely trustworthy and would never dare lie to you. At least not more than, oh, half a dozen times per chapter.”—Page 35

Ah, I love you, Alcatraz.

Sing has a sister named Australia and she looked like Katara. She was an okay character, she reminded me of the girl we meet in the Reckoners book. Mizzy, I think. She didn’t really do much but her talent is hilarious.

“‘Of course I will,’ Draulin said. ‘As the oldest child of Attica Smedry, you are the heir to the pure Smedry line. You outrank both your cousin and your uncle, which means you are in command of this vessel.’”—Page 57

Why, Draulin? Why on earth would you say that to a stupid, thirteen-year-old? This is really your own fault. I don’t know how to feel about Draulin. While she was did some really freaking badass things…she was kind of just stereotypical military mom. Maybe she’ll get more development later.

“Don’t even get my started on the economic value of belly button lint.”—Page 65

Oh my god.

“‘She’s…standing on top of Dragonaut,’ I said as I watched through the glass. ‘Yes,’ Bastille said. ‘We appear to be going several hundred miles an hour.’ ‘About that.’ ‘She’s blocking laser beams fired by a jet airplane.’ ‘Yes.’ ‘Using nothing but her sword.’”—Page 75

This was truly amazing and laws of physics be damned.

“‘What if you feel like you’re dead?’ Bastille asked, pulling herself free from her jacket. ‘Raise a finger, then,’ Kaz said, walking down the beach towards us. I won’t say which one she raised.”—Page 96

How rude.

“You have to remember, however, that this is not fiction, but a real-life account. I can’t help it if all of my friends were too selfish to do the narratively proper thing and get themselves killed off to hike up the tension of my memoirs. I’ve spoken to them at length about this. If it makes you feel better, Bastille dies by the end of this book. Oh, you didn’t want to hear that? I’m sorry. You’ll simply have to forget that I wrote it. There are several convenient ways to do that. I hear hitting yourself on the head with a blunt object can be very effective. You should try using one of Brandon Sanderson’s fantasy novels. They’re big enough, and goodness knows that’s really the only useful thing to do with them.”—Page 101

Oh, I’m sure Bastille will die in book two of a Middle Grade series. Alcatraz also has a bridge on the moon to sell you. Also the crack at Brandon’s own books is perfection.

“Adults are not idiots. Often, in books such as this one, the opposite impression is given. Adults in those stories will either (a) get captured, (b) disappear conspicuously when there is trouble, or (c) refuse to help. (I’m not sure what authors have against adults, but everyone seems to hate them to extent usually reserved for dogs and mothers. Why else make them out to be such idiots? ‘Ah look, the dark lord of evil has come to attack the castle! Annnnnd there’s my lunch break. Have fun saving the world on your own, kids!’)”—Page 106

THANK YOU! I hate this trope so much.

I feel like as a tall person, I should be offended by Kaz’s list.

“I am a fish. No, really. I am. I have fins, a tail, scales. I swim about, doing fishy things. This isn’t a metaphor or a joke, but a real and honest fact. I am a fish. More on this later.”—Page 119

I…okay.

So you can sacrifice an Oculator and anyone can use the Lenses. Sounds like Mistborn.

“So that’s why I’m writing my autobiography. I want to teach you to ignore the fish and pay attention to the shoes. Fish and shoes. Remember that.”—Page 137

Okay, then.

“P.S. If that crazy son of mine Kazan is there, smack him on the head for me.”—Page 145

I miss Grandpa Smedry. Speaking of Kaz, I think he was my favorite of the new characters. His powers were super cool and he delivered a message about being different which was nice.

“I shivered, realizing it probably wasn’t a good idea to sass the soul-sucking monsters with a burning skull for a head.”—Page 159

Probably not.

If the Library of Alexandria has future books then I’m totally selling my soul in order to read the entire Cosmere. It’d be totally worth it.

“People don’t read anymore. And when they do, they don’t read books like this one, but instead read books that depress them, because those books are seen as important.”—Page 172

Who would ever read a book that would depress them?

“Your father and I have very similar Talents—I can get lost and Attica can loose things—and both are flexible.”—Page 178

Fletcher lost her keys.

“‘From this day on,’ he whispered, raising the bazooka, ‘I shall be known as Hambo.’”—Page 186

Brandon. Corner. Now.

Ah, so that’s why Fletcher lost her keys. Wait so if two people with Talents got married would they get each other’s Talents, now having two Talents? Or would they just their own Talents?

“Given the chance, and I’d probably cut my wedding cake with one.”—Page 210

*Does a quick Google search* Brandon, did in fact cut his wedding cake with a sword. Also I found this amazing page. Seriously click it. Like holy shit he has a bunch of swords at his wedding. That’s beautiful.

“Or you could be a serial killer who specializes in reading books, then seeking out the authors and murdering them in horrible ways. (If you happen to fall into that last category, you should know that my name isn’t really Alcatraz Smedry, not is it Brandon Sanderson. My name is in fact Garth Nix, and you can find me in Australia. Oh, and I insulted your mother once. What’re you going to do about it, huh?)”—Page 214

What did Garth Nix ever to do to Brandon?

I love that Alcatraz is just stealing gold. It’s always the trope that you can’t ever take the riches but Alcatraz does it. I love how Brandon subverts tropes.

“Rocky Mountain oysters!”—Kaz, Page 256

Do you know what’s those are? They’re not oysters…

“You remember the secret ‘thing’ I claimed to have done in this book? The shameful, clever trick? Did you go looking for it? Well, whatever you found, that wasn’t what I was intending—because there is no trick. No hidden message. No clever twist I put into the first fourteen chapters.”—Page 258

I HATE YOU AND LOVE YOU SANDERSON!

“(Hey, kids? Want a taste of Dickens? It’s awesome, man. Come on. First chapters of Hard Times are free. I know you’ll be back for A Tale of Two Cities later.)”—Page 264

Why did you have to pick Dickens and Hard Times? I can’t tell if that was a dick joke or not.

I can’t believe it, Attica actually sold his soul for information…but wait, there’s still that writing on the wall. Go back to the writing on the wall.

“‘Oh, dear,’ Grandpa Smedry said, smiling. ‘We’ll never shut him up now. He’s gone and come back from the dead.’”—Page 322

My mouth literally dropped open. First because I couldn’t believe that it only took us two books to get Alcatraz’s dad back. Great subversion of the tropes. Also he pulled a Kelsier. Oh my God Attica and Kelsier need to meet. I WANT A CROSSOVER NOW.

Oh, man Bastille’s death scene was really a tear-jerk.

#Scrivener’s Bones #Brandon Sanderson #Alcatraz vs. the Evil Librarians #Hayley Lazo #reviewsdaytuesday #2017 reviews

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ptiasims · 8 years ago

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Ayyy a question thingy I was tagged in.

100 Questions No One Asks

I was tagged by my name twin @thedancingsim. <3

The questions and answers are under the cut because wow lol that’s a lotta questions!

1. DO YOU SLEEP WITH YOUR CLOSET DOORS OPEN OR CLOSED?

When I had a door, I slept with it closed. Now I have a little doorway that leads into the kitchen, like a bachelor suite so it is open... as there is NO door. But I’m slowly getting used to it.

2. DO YOU TAKE THE SHAMPOOS AND CONDITIONER BOTTLES FROM HOTELS?

If I stayed at hotels often, I would. The last time I stayed in one, I didn’t take anything, though.

3. DO YOU SLEEP WITH YOUR SHEETS TUCKED IN OR OUT?

They stay tucked in, I rarely ever sleep with the little flat sheet. I used to when it was hot, because I can’t sleep without something covering me, but now that I live in a little basement suite, it’s always cold so i can use my blanket.

4. HAVE YOU STOLEN A STREET SIGN BEFORE?

I can’t say that I have, no!

5. DO YOU LIKE TO USE POST-IT NOTES?

I tell myself yes so I can justify buying them, but I never do.

Yes, same here. I wish I used them.

6. DO YOU EVER CUT OUT COUPONS BUT NEVER USE THEM?

I haven’t cut out coupons yet, but I have a feeling I will eventually in the next few months haha.

7. WOULD YOU RATHER BE ATTACKED BY A BIG BEAR OR A SWARM OF BEES?

Bees because I think I would have a chance of outrunning them or jumping into water.

I’m going to go ahead and agree with this as well.

8. DO YOU HAVE FRECKLES?

They mostly start sprinkling my nose in the summer, uner the sun.

9. DO YOU ALWAYS SMILE FOR PICTURES?

Generally, yes.

10. WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST PET PEEVE?

Racist/homophobic/transphobic/etc. people who are unwilling to listen and understand how absolutely absurd their opinions on those matters are.

Tèa had such a great answer, that I’m going to leave it, because honestly I’m so laid back and in my own world that I rarely let things get to me for very long.

11. DO YOU EVER COUNT YOUR STEPS WHEN YOU WALK?

Not my steps, but I have a habit of counting any stairs I’m on. Always.

12. HAVE YOU EVER PEED IN THE WOODS?

Several times. One of my best friends likes to go walking in woods in the middle of the night, which is super great, especially when he purposely tells me about a ghost story just before we go into the woods, and I often end up peeing in the woods because I never go before I leave the house.

13. HAVE YOU EVER POOPED IN THE WOODS?

No.

14. DO YOU EVER DANCE EVEN IF THERE’S NO MUSIC PLAYING?

There’s always music in my head, but yes I have done this.

15. DO YOU CHEW YOUR PENS AND PENCILS?

Nah, I’m a writer, I respect the pens and pencils too much.

16. HOW MANY PEOPLE HAVE YOU SLEPT WITH THIS WEEK?

None, I like to be alone recently.

17. WHAT IS THE SIZE OF YOUR BED?

It’s technically a twin right now, but once I get the second mattress, it will be a king size. It’s a daybed from IKEA.

18. WHAT IS YOUR SONG OF THE WEEK?

I have been on a Hot Chelle Rae kick lately, so either Tonight Tonight, or Honestly. They are such a great summer band.

19. IS IT OK FOR GUYS TO WEAR PINK?

It’s okay for anyone to wear whatever they want, what do I care?

21. DO YOU STILL WATCH CARTOONS?

Not really! I watch animated Disney and Pixar, but that’s it.

21. WHAT IS YOUR LEAST FAVORITE MOVIE?

Paranormal Activity.

i’m also going to stick with Téa’s answer for this one, because another friend of mine likes to have wine night and watch horror movie night because apparently i’m HILARIOUS to scare the shit out of and this is one of the movies he enjoys making me watch.

I should get better friends??

22. WHERE WOULD YOU BURY HIDDEN TREASURE IF YOU HAD SOME?

Omg I don’t even know, but I’d probably build something over it, too for extra safe keeping.

23. WHAT DO YOU DRINK WITH DINNER?

Water or soda.

24. WHAT DO YOU DIP A CHICKEN NUGGET IN?

Barbecue sauce 100%

25. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE FOOD?

Ugh I don’t even know how to answer this. I love shrimp, Panda Express, tacos.. my mom made this wonderful crab bake and invited me over for dinner last night and it was so good.

26. WHAT MOVIES COULD YOU WATCH OVER AND OVER AGAIN AND STILL LOVE?

Zathura, How to train Your Dragon (1&2), Harry Potter, Hunger Games (Except the first one)... honestly I rewatch a lot of movies.

27. LAST PERSON, YOU KISSED/ KISSED YOU?

I made out with my boyfriend the other night at his friends’ house out on the balcony while he was loaded. Hi Joshua.

28. WERE YOU EVER A BOY/GIRL SCOUT?

I was a girl scout, for probabl one season, but I did do a lot of boy scout stuff with my brother and my mom when my brother was in the scouts.

29. WOULD YOU EVER STRIP OR POSE NUDE IN A MAGAZINE?

UNLIKELY.

30. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU WROTE A LETTER TO SOMEONE ON PAPER?

I wrote something to my mom I want to say two years ago, but I never sent it.

31. CAN YOU CHANGE THE OIL ON A CAR?

No, but I do get a discount for being a student.

32.EVER GOTTEN A SPEEDING TICKET?

Two of them. And on the last one, my grandma told my mom that “your daughter needs to slow down!” AND MY GRANDMA HAS PROBABLY TEN TIMES AS MANY TICKETS AS I DO she has a lead foot!!!

33. EVER RAN OUT OF GAS?

Not yet, but I do lock my keys in my car a lot, so let’s not rule it out.

34. WHATS YOUR FAVORITE KIND OF SANDWHICH?

TUNA WITH SPINACH AND CELERY

35. BEST THING TO EAT FOR BREAKFAST?

Cereal or like eggs or a smoothie

36. WHAT IS YOUR USUAL BEDTIME?

Lately, I’ve been crashing whenever I’m tired so that’s anywhere between 7pm-2am.

36. ARE YOU LAZY?

Oh yes, absolutely. I’m filling this out rather than adding text to the next Remedy post ha my bad y’all.

38. WHEN YOU WERE A KID, WHAT DID YOU DRESS UP AS FOR HALLOWEEN?

my mom actually used to make our costumes, like shit she was good. but idk, halloween was never really a big deal to me, but I remember being a witch several times, and i remember asking for this one cloak during halloween solely because i wanted to play dress up with it for the rest of the year, i had no interest in it for halloween.

39. WHAT IS YOUR CHINESE ASTROLOGICAL SIGN?

I have no idea?? I googled it and it says dog?? i’ll take it.

40. HOW MANY LANGUAGES CAN YOU SPEAK?

just the one, but i’d love to eventually learn spanish. my name is spanish for aunt, and i can apologize in spanish, so i’m getting there.

41. DO YOU HAVE ANY MAGAZINE SUBSCRIPTIONS?

Not a one.

43. WHICH ARE BETTER: LEGOS OR LINCOLN LOGS?

EITHER as long as I can build a really big fort with it. that’s all i’ve ever wanted.

43. ARE YOU STUBBORN?

NO. lol yes, completely bull-headed.

44. WHO IS BETTER: LENO OR LETTERMAN?

I don’t care for either.

45. EVER WATCH SOAP OPERAS?

Nope

46. ARE YOU AFRAID OF HEIGHTS?

For like two seconds, and then I get over it.

47. DO YOU SING IN THE CAR?

Only when I’m in the car.

48. DO YOU SING IN THE SHOWER?

Not so much anymore.

49. DO YOU DANCE IN THE CAR?

Yes... always.

50. EVER USED A GUN?

I’m originally from the states... it’s basically mandetory to shoot a gun. (It’s not, but I have used a gun, yes).

51. LAST TIME YOU GOT A PORTRAIT TAKE BY A PHOTOGRAPHER?

Lol I think it was a family portrait when I was in grade school, so a good ten or so years ago.

53. DO YOU THINK MUSICALS ARE CHEESY?

Some are, but some I love. It’s a hit or a miss.

53. IS CHRISTMAS STRESSFUL?

Absolutely it is, but I love it.

54. EVER EAT A PIEROGI?

Heck yes!

55. FAVORITE TYPE OF FRUIT PIE?

I don’t like cooked fruit.

56. OCCUPATIONS YOU WANTED TO BE WHEN YOU WERE A KID?

Actress, singer, and writer. So i’m really practical.

57. DO YOU BELIEVE IN GHOSTS?

As much as I believe in breathing air.

58. EVER HAVE A DEJA-VU FEELING?

All the time

59. DO YOU TAKE A VITAMIN DAILY?

Nah, but I should.

60. DO YOU WEAR SLIPPERS?

I have fuzzy pig slippers that I adore. I rarely wear them because I want to keep them forever.

61. DO YOU WEAR A BATH ROBE?

No, but I’ve been wanting to have one just to make me feel grown up.

62. WHAT DO YOU WEAR TO BED?

Big shirt & panties, boxer shorts and a tank top, sometimes something... just depends.

63. WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST CONCERT?

Britney Spears! And I got to meet her before the show. She had rened out my mom’s salon a few nights before hand so my mom went home to get me, take me back to work and I followed her around the store and told her DJ I wanted to sing when I grew up. I think I also cartwheeled around the store, but I didn’t even realize that it was her, I don’t thinkg, when I was following her around.

64. WALMART, TARGET, OR KMART?

Target (I miss it in Canada, RIP)

65. NIKE OR ADIDAS?

N...either.

66. CHEETOS OR FRITOS?

Cheetos AND Fritos.

67. PEANUTS OR SUNFLOWER SEEDS?

Neither.

68. EVER HEAR OF THE GROUP TRES BIEN?

69. EVER TAKE DANCE LESSONS?

Yes, and I wish I still did.

70. IS THERE A PROFESSION YOU PICTURE YOUR FUTURE SPOUSE DOING?

Whatever they want, idc as long as they’re happy.

71. CAN YOU CURL YOUR TONGUE?

Sure can.

72. EVER WON A SPELLING BEE?

No.

73. HAVE YOU EVER CRIED BECAUSE YOU WERE SO HAPPY?

Only all the time.

74. OWN ANY RECORD ALBUMS?

I do not.

75. OWN A RECORD PLAYER?

I do not.

76. DO YOU REGULARLY BURN INCENSE?

I burn candles, does that count?

77. EVER BEEN IN LOVE?

I have!

78. WHO WOULD YOU LIKE TO SEE IN CONCERT?

Ed Sheeran and Mumford and Sons again, and Maroon 5 again, Miley again... I don’t know about anyone else tb.

79. WHAT WAS THE LAST CONCERT YOU SAW?

Awolnation with my ex ... NO WAIT, it was the last bit of July Talk which my ex was supposed to take me to, but I went with my friend instead.

80. HOT TEA OR COLD TEA?

Hot

81. TEA OR COFFEE?

Tea for sure.

82. SUGAR COOKIES OR SNICKERDOODLES?

Making me choose between two things I love is stressful. BOTH.

83. CAN YOU SWIM WELL?

Yup! I used to take lessons lol

84. CAN YOU HOLD YOUR BREATH WITHOUT HOLDING YOUR NOSE?

Yeah

85. ARE YOU PATIENT?

Most of the time.

86. DJ OR BAND AT A WEDDING?

I like the idea of a band, but probably DJ for a better sound quality.

87. EVER WON A CONTEST?

Yeah

88. HAVE YOU EVER HAD PLASTIC SURGERY?

89. WHICH ARE BETTER: BLACK OR GREEN OLIVES?

Neither, they’re both gross.

90. CAN YOU KNIT OR CROCHET?

I can crochet in my sleep, but I’m just now learning how to knit.

91. BEST ROOM FOR A FIREPLACE?

My room right now omg it’s so cold.

92. DO YOU WANT TO GET MARRIED?

I’m not sure, tbh. Some days I do, some days I don’t.

93. IF MARRIED, HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN MARRIED?

Not even a minute.

94. WHO WAS YOUR HIGH SCHOOL CRUSH?

Aww, his name was Jesse and he was a cutie for sure.

95. DO YOU CRY AND THROW A FIT UNTIL YOU GET YOUR OWN WAY?

Not since I was like 3. Okay... maybe last week. Just kidding.

96. DO YOU HAVE KIDS?

I do not! But I have lovely niece’s and nephew’s whom I love so much.

97. DO YOU WANT KIDS?

Only like three, or so.

98. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE COLOR?

Yellow

99. DO YOU MISS ANYONE RN?

Seger, the pup.

100. WHO ARE YOU GOING TO TAG TO DO THIS TAG NEXT?

Oh man, I’m gonna go ahead and tag anyone who wants to do this! and also @malcolmlandgraab

oh shit wait, i’m also going to tag @vodkasims for the name twin thing!!

#non-sims #y'all tagged me #ptiaspeaks

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preciousmetals0 · 5 years ago

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Market FOMO Rising; Disney Plus Ultra

Market FOMO Rising; Disney Plus Ultra:

Mr. FOMO Risin’

If you ever needed clear proof that the stock market does not represent the U.S. economy, today provided it.

The U.S. Department of Labor announced that 6.6 million Americans filed for first-time unemployment benefits last week. The latest data bring the total of new claims to more than 16 million for the past three weeks.

That’s 10% of the U.S. workforce gone. Poof. Vanished into the novel coronavirus tainted air.

How did Wall Street react to this economic travesty? With a rally, of course.

But, in Wall Street’s defense, it was distracted by shiny objects — $2.3 trillion worth of shiny objects, to be precise.

To keep investors from looking behind the curtain, the Federal Reserve announced a $2.3 trillion lending package to support the economy. Fed Chairman Oz — er, Jerome Powell declared that the central bank will “provide as much relief and stability as we can.”

You can read all the nitty-gritty details here — including the Fed’s plan to buy junk corporate bonds. (This literally can’t go belly up, right?)

But Powell wasn’t alone in defending the U.S. economy. Treasury Secretary Steven Mnuchin told CNBC’s Squawk on the Street that the U.S. could open back up in May. Mnuchin noted that the Trump administration was doing “everything necessary that American companies and American workers can be open for business and that they have the liquidity that they need to operate their business in the interim.”

The Takeaway:

I want to believe, dear readers. I truly do.

I want to believe that, once the COVID-19 threat passes, everything will magically return to normal … that businesses will quickly rehire 16 million Americans and get us all back to work.

I want to believe that the Fed’s $2.3 trillion announcement, the Treasury Secretary’s appearance on a major financial TV show and the revelation of 6.6 million new jobless claims happening on the same day is just a coincidence. (Hint: It’s not.)

I also want to believe that the recent market rally is the start of a new bull market … that there’s no more risk left in the system … and that rainbows and monkeys will fly out of my … well, you get the picture.

Right now, if you’re following Great Stuff’s recommendations, you’re likely experiencing a heavy dose of “fear of missing out,” or FOMO. You’ve got that FOMO risin’. And it’s gonna keep on risin’.

But you and I, we didn’t just get into town about an hour ago. We know which way the wind blows.

We know that the economic bill for the COVID-19 shutdown has to come due sooner or later. Wall Street can ignore weekly jobless claims. It can ignore a trickle of economic data here and there — especially when the Fed chair and the Treasury Secretary are giving stump speeches.

What Wall Street can’t ignore is the flood of bad economic data that’s coming … or the wave of horrendous corporate earnings reports that will follow.

It will be interesting to see how much ammunition the Fed has left when the inevitable comes.

Editor’s Note: With the whole biotech sector screaming “pandemic!” there’s never been a better time to find undiscovered biotech diamonds. Today, expert Jeff Yastine has his eye on one biotech stock that he believes is set to soar. Click here now to learn more!

The Good: Disney Plus Ultra

My wife jokingly refers to The Walt Disney Co. (NYSE: DIS) as a “people trap built by a mouse.” Judging by how crowded the company’s theme parks were before the COVID-19 shutdown, she’s not wrong.

With the launch of Disney+ last year, the mouse now has a digital trap as well. And boy, is it effective. According to Disney, its new streaming service now has 50 million paid subscribers, up from just 28.6 million in February. That’s a 75% jump in roughly two months!

The surprising growth even put the most bullish of analyst projections to shame. JPMorgan Chase & Co. (NYSE: JPM) predicted 40 million subs by the end of 2020. The end of 2020.

Disney is now on pace to easily top its original estimate of 60 million to 90 million Disney+ subscribers by 2024.

What’s more, the service just launched in India in February, and it expanded heavily across Europe in late March. That means more subscriber growth will come this year — especially with launches in Japan, Western Europe and Latin America coming later in 2020.

While Disney+ revenue won’t replace lost park revenue due to COVID-19, it puts the company in a leading position in the streaming market heading into a post-quarantine world.

DIS is high on Great Stuff’s list for a potential buy once things settle down.

The Bad: Not Enough Panic-Buying?

The COVID-19 outbreak was initially illustrated with images of shopping carts filled to the breaking point — mostly with toilet paper. Retailers clearly stood to benefit from the panic-buying, and today, we got a glimpse at one of panic-buyers’ biggest targets: Costco Wholesale Corp. (Nasdaq: COST).

Sales skyrocketed for Costco in March, with same-store sales spiking 12.1% on the month.

But analysts had their hopes set higher … much higher. The average consensus estimate for Costco’s March sales growth sits at 24.1%. So, despite seriously impressive sales growth, Costco still missed expectations.

Furthermore, Costco said that sales of non-essential products, such as electronics and apparel, hurt overall sales figures. Store hours and store closures due to COVID-19 also negatively impacted sales.

Now, if COST stock was down just because it missed some overinflated analyst figures, I’d say the shares are a bargain on today’s sell-off. However, we all know that 12.1% sales growth isn’t sustainable.

This is doubly true when you consider that 16 million Americans have now filed for unemployment. Costco will likely see sales growth decline — slowly due to stimulus efforts, but they will still decline.

In fact, we may have seen the peak for consumer spending this year, and that doesn’t bode well for COST.

The Ugly: Grounded

Airline stocks soared today. Investors likely banked on hopes that the U.S. will be open for business by next month — thanks Mnuchin!

But, if investors think that there won’t be plenty of turbulence ahead, they’re sorely mistaken.

Right now, airlines such as Delta Air Lines Inc. (NYSE: DAL), American Airlines Group Inc. (Nasdaq: AAL) and United Airlines Holdings Inc. (Nasdaq: UAL) are all counting on a government bailout. They’re losing tens of millions of dollars a day due to COVID-19 quarantines and travel bans.

Roughly $29 billion was earmarked for the airline bailout, but none of that cash is flowing. According to reports, the Department of the Treasury is asking for more financial information before letting the spice flow.

In fact, the data requested appear more akin to a loan process than a cash grant application, according to sources.

There are two takeaways here: First, bailout cash for airlines isn’t flowing out right now, and it probably won’t for a while longer. Second, that cash will come with more strings attached than airlines and investors expect.

This isn’t a carte blanche bailout. And with traffic expected to remain low even after the all-clear sounds, airline stocks will certainly get hammered once again.

It’s that time again! Today, we dive headfirst into the Great Stuff inbox and see what you and your fellow readers are pondering this week.

Are you pondering what I’m pondering?

I think so, Mr. Great Stuff, but if they called them “sad meals” no one would buy them.

Let’s get right to it:

Quick Climbs for Fast Times

Just a quick thought- If it’s the fastest time to reach a bear market, what is stopping it from turning into the fastest time to reach a bull market? After the virus issues subside of course. Everything appears to be happening at such a faster pace these days.

— Bill M.

Thank you for sharing your thoughts, Bill! Now, as time has lost all meaning and distinction since my kids started staying home from school, everything’s passing faster and slower at the same time.

Anyway, here’s the one thing that can prevent an even faster leap back into a bull market: uncertainty. It’s a day trader’s delight but an investor’s kryptonite. We just hit 10% unemployment at the end of a supposed “relief rally” that included a 50% Dow retracement.

If that doesn’t scream “uncertainty” ahead, nothing does.

On Idiots and Followers

We have alot of idiots fallowing the leader of the idiots.

— Tom D.

The best part is that I can’t tell which political, economic or health figure you’re talking about … and yet, I’m still strangely inclined to agree with you, Tom.

Crown Castles Made of Sand

Hello. Some of my most recession resistant stocks: AMT and CCI are holding steady … at least so far. Both also pay dividends.

— Brent J.

I want to hark back to an older email, dated March 17. Back in the thick of March madness, we were talking about crash-proof stocks and how to weather the storm.

Don’t worry, I won’t spoil the rest of your ultra secret picks, Brent! (They’re good dogs, Brent! It’s an old meme, sir, but it checks out.) Though, I see you have the 5G trend covered from the cell tower side of things. And I sure hope you held on — if not added to your position!

Both American Tower Corp. (NYSE: AMT) and Crown Castle International Corp. (NYSE: CCI) have already bounced back to February’s pre-devastation levels. If any of you readers out there timed that rebound, nicely done! If not, you might want to wait for more volatility (and oh, it’s a-comin’) to find a better entry price.

(Not sure where to start with investing in 5G? Click here now!)

Thank you to Bill, Tom, Brent and everyone else who wrote in!

Have you written to us yet? If not, what’s stopping you?! We always look forward to hearing your market takes, stock ideas, rants, raves, recipes, conspiracy theories and whatever else you’ve been cooking up while quarantined.

Drop us a line at [email protected] and feel free to speak your mind.

As always, remember that the Great Stuff action never ends. You can also find us on social media: Facebook and Twitter.

Until next time, be Great!

Regards,

Joseph Hargett

Editor, Great Stuff

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theliberaltony · 5 years ago

Link

via Politics – FiveThirtyEight

Welcome to Political Confessional, a column about the views that Americans are scared to share with their friends and neighbors. In an increasingly polarized political climate, adherence to party or ideological orthodoxy on the issues of the day seems de rigueur. Social media serves only to amplify that perception at times. But Americans’ political views are often idiosyncratic and sometimes offensive, and they rarely adhere neatly to any particular party line. In this column, we want to dig into Americans’ messy opinions on politics, morality and social mores. We hope that this exercise gives readers a glimpse into the minds of those with whom they might disagree — or agree! If you have a political belief that you’re willing to share with us, fill out this form — we might get in touch.

This week, we talked to Patricia, a 75-year-old white woman from Ohio. Patricia wrote: “When given a choice between female & male Democratic candidates, I’ll choose the males, all things otherwise being equal.” She hasn’t shared the opinion much with friends because, as she put it, “I’m a relic from another era, knowingly biased, which embarrasses me.”

Clare Malone: So, how did you get to this opinion?

Patricia: I would love to know. If I had to guess, I would say it’s because I was born in 1944, and coming up, I had male people in all the roles that I was apt to use. Like a doctor, my father was a CPA so he did my taxes, and you know, having handymen around the house — they were men not women, and I just came to believe in them and I have a prejudice. It’s just there.

CM: Do you think that men are more competent and capable?

Patricia: It’s just where my mind would go first, if given a choice. Like, I had a female doctor and she really wasn’t very good. I have an excellent doctor now and he’s male. And I think if two doctors are standing in front of me in the future, one male, one female, I would choose the male.

CM: When did you start noticing that about yourself?

Patricia: I think in the 1970s when I was working for a man who was talking about a colleague who had left the company and gone elsewhere. And he said, “Can you believe it, he’s working for a woman — what kind of man is that?” And I was instantly offended and I thought how wrong what he said was. But then came flooding through to my head was the acknowledgment that yeah, if I looked at my boss being a female, I wouldn’t have as much confidence in her as I would in a male. Because I’d always had male bosses and they were good. And I don’t want to say that I dislike women because I do like them and I do feel that there are women who are spectacular, but it’s that initial thing, seeing the two compared, that’s when it hits me, and I have to talk myself down from that ledge because I know that it’s nutty and I know that there’s no logic to what I’m doing so I know that I need to rethink a choice I might be making.

CM: Do you think that any of this has to do with your own self-confidence?

Patricia: No, I’ve been pretty self-confident all my life. It never occurred to me in some instances to even doubt that I could do what I set out to do. I wanted to be a disc jockey, so I became a disc jockey. I wanted to have a TV show, so I applied and I got that. I wanted to work in advertising, and I worked in that. I think I can do anything basically, except fly an airplane.

CM: Do you think sexism has been a big part of your life? Do you think people in those jobs you just talked about ever thought that you weren’t as competent because you were a woman?

Patricia: No. In fact, men have stood up for me and supported me in jobs for decades. I don’t know why I got here. I really do think it’s a function largely of the era when I was born.

CM: Have you talked to other women of your era about this, and do you know if they feel the same way?

Patricia: Well, since this is a thing I wouldn’t confess to my friends, no. I had a close friendship with two women who are extremely accomplished, and I just would not have brought it up with them.

CM: Do you feel lonely in this thought? Do you think other people have it?

Patricia: Well, I haven’t really discussed it with women, so I don’t know if others do. I have expressed this to is my daughter, and she just shakes her head and wonders where she went wrong.

CM: How did you talk to your daughter about gender bias, if you did?

Patricia: I didn’t when I was raising her. She’s almost 50 years old, and it’s only in recent times [that they talk about it]. For instance, this current run for president I told her that I support Joe Biden because he gives me the feeling that Daddy’s home and everything’s going to be OK again. We’re going to be sane for a change. And she’ll bring up, ‘Well what about Elizabeth Warren?” And I say, I just don’t want to be lectured by a school marm for four or eight years. But the fact is, I like a lot of what she stands for. And I feel like going with Joe Biden is a step backward but for me it’s a comfortable step. I think we need to regain some footing.

CM: How did you feel about Hillary Clinton in the last election?

Patricia: I voted for her, but I love Hillary. She’s just so competent. And I’ve admired her for decades. And I envied her being married to Bill Clinton.

CM: What do you think the difference is between Hillary Clinton and Elizabeth Warren?

Patricia: One thing is how they come across when they’re speaking. I feel like Warren’s talking down to me. I think Hillary is up on a higher plane, and I just love her, and I think it was just being exposed for decades to her competence.

CM: Do you think your like of Hillary Clinton has to do with your like of her husband as well?

Patricia: I really didn’t pay much attention to Bill Clinton until the impeachment stuff. I’m really not someone who pays attention to extramarital sex. Some of my best lovers were married. Who worries about extramarital sex? I really liked the fact that Hillary stayed with him because I thought, “What better companion could you have after dinner when you sit down to talk?” That man is fascinating. And I would have hated to see her throw him away. A lot of people find fault with the fact that she stayed with him. I think it’s a plus after her name.

CM: Do you like any of the other women who are running this year?

Patricia: I like Kamala. I think she has a lot of male characteristics. She seems solid when she’s not being giggly in interviews and she answers questions seriously. I admire her and I like what she’s saying. I did like Amy Klobuchar until it came out how she treated her staff. And my liking of her, by the way, was largely started because she didn’t ask Al Franken to resign.

CM: So I’m assuming you don’t like Kirsten Gillibrand?

Patricia: Oh my God, no. All she needs is horns and a tail and she’s the devil.

CM: Have you talked to men about your bias toward men over women?

Patricia: I don’t think so, but if someone looked at my whole life, they would see that most of my friends have been male.

CM: Why do you think that is?

Patricia: I don’t know! I guess I just like men. I worked for a corporation where I was the only woman in management. The men there, especially my boss, treated me very well, and the women treated me badly. I had a secretary who refused to answer my phone, refused to make copies for me, she was just hostile. I remember going to my boss, and I said, “what can I do about her?” And he had a good question for me. He said, “what would you do if you were a man?” I said, “Oh, I’d fire her.” And he said, “so there you are.”

I remember in that company they were having a retreat for all the managers, I remember my boss saying I was certainly invited, but he wondered if I wanted to go — it was at a lodge with all these men and they would go fishing and have mutual support kinds of exercises. And I chose not to go.

CM: Do you wish you could have been friends or friendlier with the women at your office? Would that have made things better for you?

Patricia: I would have liked to have them have a better sense of who I was. I didn’t really want to hang out.

CM: Do you think there’s ever a way you grow out of this way of thinking? Is it something you could change?

Patricia: I think that I at least pause and think now, versus how I would have been automatic in the past. But as far as changing — even sitting here right now, I know that my preference is for men.

CM: If I were a man asking you these questions, do you think you would think about this interview differently or answer questions differently?

Patricia: No. I kind of chuckled when I thought about a female calling me — we’ll find out just how much I trust men over women! But no, I don’t have that impression at all.

CM: Would you consider yourself a feminist?

Patricia: No, I wouldn’t. Not consciously. My daughter is. I am not. My granddaughter is. But no. And in fact, the MeToo era has really not registered with me. I like men, and I don’t want to see careers ruined over somebody making advances toward someone. There are the egregious examples that we’ve seen in the news that are assault — they’re horrible, they’re detrimental to a woman’s career. But overall, when I hear younger women, they seem to have set up men to a certain point as almost the enemy. And in all my years in business, I couldn’t even count how many times men made passes at me. I was never offended, and some were a little more than just a couple of words, you know. I had a boss who pulled me onto his lap. All I did was laugh and get off.

CM: You’re saying you learned how to deal with those things?

Patricia: It felt like I could deal with it and at times liked it, depending on the man.

#IFTTT #Politics – FiveThirtyEight #politics #538 #Clare Malone

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notesfromthepen · 5 years ago

Text

The Chronicles of the king of Richmond

I came across some shit today that I had to share. Something too funny, dark, and ridiculous to keep to myself. But I had to figure out a way to first, get my hands on the material, and then how to give the context needed for it to be fully appreciated.

First I should start with the characters involved. We are a trio. Me, Joe, and the 'king'. I'll refer to him as the 'king' (with a lowercase 'k') because he wanted to remain anonymous, for several reasons, that should become clear later.

Joe is, by far, my best friend in here and we've been pretty much inseparable for years now, (we were bunkies twice at another facility). Some of you may have read previous posts about him. We are very different people, which is often the case with really good friends. But there is no doubt that our bond is, almost entirely, built on our shared sense of humor. A sarcastic, brutally honest, self deprecating, anything for a laugh, sense of humor.

A sense of humor developed since childhood surrounded by witty, smart-assed, assholish mentors and peers. It can be a harsh environment to grow up in, but there is a purity to be found there. An accountability and brutal honesty that is humbling and real. There are no aires allowed to survive amongst friends with no fear of giving offense. No bullshit is left uncalled, no lies left un-confronted, and no opinions restrained. Nothing is sacred and everything is mined for a laugh.

Basically we talk a lot of shit.

Nothing bonds me to another person more instantly than a similar sense of humor. Since coming to this new prison Joe and I have found a fellow, flawed, degenerate asshole, willing to laugh at himself and judge others for the sake humor.

This, is the so called 'king of Richmond.' His majesty is a large guy, about 6'1 and 240 lbs. of slightly chubby, bearded, man beef. He's well kept and neat in appearance (aside from his portly build). He's got some charisma and charm at his disposal and makes decent use of it when needed.

The king, however, has a glaring flaw, as do most of us. He's a raging addict, whose life is lived for, and run by, an incessant need for opiates. This adds an interesting but constantly problematic dimension to his life behind bars. The perpetual need to produce the money for his lifestyle is a constant story line. Most of his fundraising is done over the phone. Preferably through manipulation, but he's not above blatant begging from people in the free-world. Family members, friends, exes, and a sugar momma round out his fundraising Rolodex.

A few days ago, Joe borrowed his Majesty's tablet to listen to his music, and being the stand up friends we are, we wasted no time before invading his privacy. We opened his 'sent email' files and struck gold. Dark, hilarious, sad, revealing gold. What we found was email after email of mental and emotional manipulation in a quest to fund his lifestyle. That's the sad part. The hilarious part is witnessing the level of shameless groveling, damage control, and clumsy begging, our friend is willing to stoop to.

After an intervention filled with embarrassment, ridicule, and some tear inducing laughs from all parties, I gained the 'kings' permission to post some of the gems.

But first a disclaimer: If any form of self-respect or sense of shame is something you're expecting, then prepare yourself, because you will find neither in these emails. Also, I wanted to maintain the "purity" of the emails as they were originally written, so I left the misspellings and incorrect grammar. However, for the sake of read-ability, I added some commas and periods here and there. Other than that they are all original text, with the exception of my commentary, which will be in [brackets].

So without further adieu, I now present to you: The Chronicles Of The king Of Richmond.

Sugar Momma

The following correspondence was sent to the kings sugar momma. As her title would imply she is his main source of income. His "Go-To". She works at McDonalds and has had the unfortunate luck to be in "love" with the king for roughly a year now. This letter is the most recent and well into the travesty that is their "relationship". This email is more focused on making excuses for begging than actual begging, but stay tuned they get worse.

His words are in "quotes" and my commentary is in [brackets]. Some are comments and some are translations of his bullshit, what he really means.

KOR 11/24 “listen, I wasn't insinuating you were fat, and honestly I wasn't trying to hurt your feelings. [he definitely was] I was giving you an example of how you could save a few bucks, so maybe out of the kindness of your heart [or from my incessant guilt laden begging] you could send me a few. Belive it or not, its rough in here, and sometimes I need money to survive in here. [Let's make one thing clear: The constant stress of his habit and the debts he accrues makes his time infinitely more difficult than it needs to be. So more money isn't the solution. It’s the problem.] That's what I was saying. I've been down for 5yrs Jenn and pretty much aint had much help, except from a few. [Just a little context. I get 50$ a month. This jackass spends 300$ a week]. We were together a long time. we broke up when I was in here, so yeah its a little different than if you were just some ex. I shouldn't exspect [too bad they don't give out money for misspelled words] it, but I would hope”.

“I guess I wasn't who I thought I was to you. [what a word-smith]. I might have put you through a lot of shit, but you sought me out. Remember that. You knew who I was. [Yeah, so you deserve everything I put you through.] Everyone did. I was the king of that town [AND THERE IT IS! The self proclaimed king of Richmond...Oh I can't tell you how embarrassed for him, angered at him, and ashamed to call him my friend I was when I read this!] not to try and sound conceited but I was, [OK. You can't say you’re not being conceited and then double down on your brag. BTW Richmond has a population smaller than most elementary schools. So it was a small 'kingdom' to say the least] and now no one has my back. it sucks, out of everyone, I hoped that you would have, but no!! [I hope he had a neck brace on when he wrote this. This guy can go from bragging to groveling so fast that it causes whiplash]. When we broke up I wanted you to be happy and get married and do what ever. [He ran out of ideas! That's his limit of things he could conjure up that would make her happy: 2] I just wanted you to still be there for me [AKA: support my habit] and if roles were reversed Jenn, you would have 50 every month and my family would probaly even send you money and that's the proven truth. [From probably to proven truth in half a sentence?] And you know it, so that shit hurts me, let's just remember who's the one locked up!! I'm the old me again [king?] and I'll remember all my real friends, that were there for me, when I get out in 3 in a half years.[Yeah but will they remember you?] Not long at all. And the thing with frank, [Oh yes! Thankgod he's back on the whole Frank thing! I wish I knew his address I'd send him a bottle of whisky!] belive me, I heard stories, a few. [Yeah and they haunt his dreams] but regardless, I love you, just wish you were kinder to me. ...The king”

[That's his cleanup? Someone get him a neck brace]

KOR 12/6 [Damage control] “baby, funny you say sober honestly, but no i totally understand. im sorry if it feels like sometimes I take you for granted.[by sometimes he means 'all the time'] let me try to explain [please do], in here if you don't get in a constant routine and try to make things repetitive, the time will do you, not you do the time. [A vague prison saying he heard someone say in here once and thought it sounded cool] if that makes sense [it doesn't.], its not my intentions to make it carry over into our relationship [but if it does I'm willing to live with it] I'm sorry [that I have to do this song and dance to get money]. and I fully intend to check myself and let you know how special you truly are to me [and by 'check myself' I mean I'll continue doing the exact same amount of drugs, if not more. and I'll show you how special you are by kindly taking your minimum wage paycheck]. The money you send me is for me to live comfortably in here [get high], that means getting things done that I need to get done while I'm here [I mean, these drugs aren't gonna do themselves.] and 90%, is the food and shit i need to survive [but mostly drugs]. We are already at a disadvantage because I only get 75% of what you send, which sucks [it would be much more efficient if I could put 100% of what you send me up my nose]. And they rip us off on prices on the food as it is. So I'm sorry, but i want you to fully understand you are my baby girl [creepy] and when i get out, roles will reverse and I'll be the provider and you'll live real comfortable [said with his fingers crossed], except when I come home every night and blow that back out bitch!!!! [and theres that winning charm I mentioned! what a smooth operator] I love you. [He doesn't] I got to go to the doctor at 9:30 [Ironically its 'his' back that's blown out] so I'll call you after count [to beg for more $]. I love you [again he doesn't]. if that eases your mind [It shouldn't] I love you!!! [and one final lie to cap off this masterpiece.]

Ex-Girlfriend

These next three are to his ex-girlfriend. She's somewhere down the list of reliable donors, but desperate times call for desperate measures and being a dope fiend in prison means, constant desperate times.

KOR 11/23 "So happy thanksgiving! [Now that the pleasantries are out of the way] So I havnt had any money lately, so no stamps but I just got some anyways [2nd sentence in and already caught in a lie. Clearly if he sent this, he has stamps]. Yeah I heard all about you and Carol's argument, and Dan and Josh messaging, and you jumping in on their message, and Dan cutting into you about being a shitty ex (/friend) [OK, I have to translate. First of all, this email seems to be sponsored by unnecessary commas. I guess some people were attacking her on Facebook for not sending the 'king' an adequate amount of money] Most I agree with. [Especially the money part] You havnt been there for me Jennifer [how dare you!]. I belive you have kinda done me wrong [how do you sleep at night?] and other people believe that too [so there!]. Im not saying your wrong for living your life [but you are] and going and being with someone new [because there's no way he's cooler than me]. but you can look out for the man [I use the term man loosely] that looked out for you since you were just a baby! [???? what???? creepy! actually I need to go ask him about this one.. OK he said he meant when she was 18] When I have asked for money in the past, you deny me [who the fuck do you think you are an ex?]. Hell, I'm broke right now [and that's your responsibility]. I can't get money. [But regardless I incessantly ask for it? Blatant lie no.2] uncle only sends me 50 a month and that ain't shit, that's hygiene a month. [Who calls their uncle uncle and not my uncle? What is he an orphan from the 1800's?] You don't keep money on the phone Jenn. I don't care who your new man is [again, not cooler than me], if you truly love me, you can talk to me. And 50 dollars, every couple of months ain't shit Jenn [trust me its nothing! I blow through it in no time]. So I and everyone else just think your wrong for that [OK, now he's literally speaking for everyone. Which is strange because I don't remember giving him my opinion on how much money his ex should be spending on his habit]. I will always have love for you. I just wish you would treat me with the respect I deserve [but have in no way earned]. I've been down 5 yrs and havnt got no more than 100 dollars from you. i basicaly took the rap and I get no respect. [Now he's doing his Rodney Dangerfield impression? what's next, Dr Vinnie Boombatz? (look it up)] That's fucked up!!!!! well I thought, since I finally got some stamps I can finally reply. I wish you would start respecting me as someone you love!!!

'The King of Richmond' (The realest you've ever known!)” [That last part is 100% real. I almost died laughing when I read this! The realest? No comment I can muster will be adequate at dealing with the ridiculousness of this sign off. What a heavy handed attempt to sound like a cool guy. Remember, this is to an ex-girlfriend! No way does playing the cool guy ever work on an ex. She's been in the bathroom after you. She's smelled your shit. Also remember that the whole point of this email is to beg for money! Oh I'm so glad I'm friends with this silly degenerate!]

KOR 11/24 “what? really I thought we just made it through everything; [Im going to say we and then make you feel bad for a bunch of shit you needed] your rent to your sister, the presents for the babies, your phone you needed [you know, the trivial shit]. I thought we got through it baby? [You mean to tell me the babies got my drug money?] I owe a 100$ and I don't even got a noodle right now. Thank god for you, because my brother doesn't give a fuck if I rot in here [because be knows the real me] and everyone else apparently don't care. [Possibly the most poorly crafted sentence in the history of writing, and now down to business] We can do 100 and then 50. [Tell the babies and your sister to fuck off! I have needs.] So I can eat off the 35 from the 50 for the rest of this month [hope I confused her with all the numbers and poor grammar] cause the only thing I have is 2 soaps [just to be sure, one more number]. so work with me on this and I will make that last to the first OK! [In no world, was he able to make it last until the 1st]

[And now back to the unwarranted guilt trip:] I thought you were done with all the present buying and rent.You even had a b-day!! [So there's really no excuse for not feeding my addiction. What are you selfish? Use your b-day money!] Which I think you needed to let loose a little anyways. [You really earned it, putting up with my begging and whatnot] I love you babe. I'll call you after count were supposed to have a blizzard today F U N!!!!!” [Bringing it all together with a little sarcastic humor? NICE!]

KOR 12/5 "Really Jenn? Don't think you can shame me for [well, anything but specifically] expecting a little money every once in a while” [you should know by now that shame is not a factor!] "Its not hard to skip going out to eat or buying that extra shirt, [extra shirt?Clearly he could only think of one good example to save money.] to throw me a little extra dough. [yeah, just go hungry and topless] I didn't bring Josh or Dan into this. [This whole exchange is about his friends and sugar mamma shaming Jenn for not sending home enough money] They did that on their own. They told me the conversation they had with you. I just agreed. I also didn't tell Carol to do that. She did that after her and Josh had a conversation about what had happened. Another thing is Jenn, don't kid yourself, I blew through a 35,000 dollar [insurance] check taking care of us, making sure we had a good time and 2 to 3 thousand every month up until i did that year in county (jail) [Yeah, I was a great provider until I got arrested! And by provider I mean cashing an insurance check]. So don't cry to me about a couple hundo [that's right, he's too cool to say hundred] and your fucking Ford Contour. I think your being rude, and you tried your damnest to fuck frank. [OK this is where it goes off the rails. He couldn't wait to mention the whole frank thing so he just shoehorned it in the conversation] I heard. [I'm confused, was she successful in her 'dam nest' attempt to fuck ole Frank?] That's funny [is it?], not that I care [well, I'm convinced. Nothing screams 'I care and it hurts so much' like saying I 'don't care'], cause I do have a good girl (a ride or die bitch I wish I always had) who does take care of me and keeps money on the phone and keeps me in touch with everyone [but only when I beg and grovel]. I'm in prison still pulling bitches [WOW!!! first of all he's definitely not and more importantly that's the most pathetic attempt at intended jealousy]. my point really isn't to brag, that's not what im trying to do. [It is] I'm just saying, its possible to still have a life and support someone in prison. even a little. you have just made NO effort at all and that piss people off and me. cause McDonald's checks weren't supporting our sort of lifestyle sweetie!!!!!! so I guess I wish you would change, but I doubt it. Anyways, happy to hear your grand ma is doing good. and next time you write, attach a stamp.” [OK, he's always good for a ridiculous ending but this one takes the cake. Let's examine: He spends 90% of this letter guilt tripping, berating, talking shit to, and begging for money. Then, literally in the 2nd to last sentence, he mentions her sick grandma's recovery? I have ask him how he carries around such big balls without a limp! And if you're still naive enough to think that he's done, you clearly don't know the ‘king’.]

[Our royal highness still has enough balls, and not enough shame, to ask this poor girl to attach a return stamp so she can continue this charming and fulfilling correspondence with her incarcerated ex-boyfriend. And now its clear how he became the king of Richmond: By sheer clumsy manipulation, a ruthless disregard for self respect, the freedom of movement that a spineless body provides and a fortitude willing to stoop to any low to accomplish his goal to get inebriated. The same way presidents get elected in this country. At any cost he would take the crown and he did. Without ever being to Richmond, I can say this with confidence: Anyone who would make him king and pay tribute to his court, truly deserves his rule. What a spectacular asshole the king is and I count him as a flawed degenerate of the worst degree. But I also count him as a friend…]

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