#somebody knows!!! someone understands!!!! the search is not futile!!!!!!

[crossbackpoke-check]

I TOTALLY KNOW THE SID STORY ABT THE BIG MACS YOURE TALKING ABOUT AND I ALSO HAVE NO IDEA WHERE I SAW IT??? godspeed in your quest to find this bit of Lore i thought you'd want to know someone else knew what you were thinking about <3

😭😭 it’s me and you against the vast expanses of the internet but i’m so glad someone knows what i’m talking about!!

[thebibliosphere]

I had a question.

So, just an hour or two ago, I was going through some sort of “manic high”, sorta like how somebody with bipolar disorder would have (I don’t have BPD). It felt like a bullet train at max speed and completely derailing, and it was incredibly draining. It also got me wondering.

Do people with severe enough ADHD deal with ADHD episodes like this? My search attempts are often futile because all of it is just talking about how to differentiate between BPD and ADHD and BPD manic episodes, but nobody ever mentions ADHD episodes; the only time I’ve seen it mentioned ever was when somebody made a clip of crankgameplays to show what an ADHD episode looked like.

Do they even exist? I’ve got no idea, so I was just wondering if you knew.

Hey! Sorry, I saw your other ask a while ago, but I wanted to talk to my ADHD specialist before I answered because I’d never heard of the term “episode” being used to describe ADHD. I’m also going to splice both questions together here and answer them in segments in the hope it helps :)

So like I said, I’d never heard of the term “episode” with ADHD, and neither has my specialist. Part of ADHD is having a natural ebb and flow between inattention and hyperactivity, sometimes skewed toward one or the other, depending on your ADHD type. (What are the different types of ADHD?)

Your type of ADHD may also fluctuate because of other factors, such as stress, changes in medication, hormonal fluctuations, lack of sleep, overstimulation, or even under-stimulation, to name a few. Another overlooked part of ADHD is emotional dysregulation, which may cause rapid cycling emotions that may look like an “episode” to someone unfamiliar with what that actually qualifies. The way my therapist explained it and using your example of bipolar disorder, “episode” is used in diagnostic criteria to categorize manic or depressive episodes that last X amount of time, are usually severe, potentially requiring hospitalization, and are accompanied by other symptoms not found in ADHD.

Our “bursts” of energy or lack thereof typically don’t last long enough to be considered episodes. This isn’t to say they are not severe or debilitating, especially if you suffer from things like anxiety or depression that ADHD can feed into. Merely that “episode” is not used as part of the language used to discuss ADHD, which is likely why you’re not finding anything.

So, do ADHDers experience intense bursts of energy that are draining afterward? Yeah, we can do, especially if we lean more toward hyperactive than inattentive. (And again, it's normal to fluctuate and also for things to be affected or worsened by secondary factors.)

And I'm going to put the rest under the cut because this is hella long.

I’ve seen some people think that all hyperactivity has to come with fixation, but that’s not how ADHD works. It’s true if something gets us excited or gives us a dopamine boost, we might be more prone to becoming hyperfixated and burn all our energy up on that. But you don’t need something to fixate on to experience hyperactivity. Some of us are just wired to the moon sometimes, and yes, it can be very draining when it ends. Some people find medication helpful in regulating their hyperactivity/preventing it from coming in such big swings and dips.

Speaking personally, when I'm hyper and nothing is grabbing my attention, the world and people around me can feel painfully slow. It's like I'm going a mile a minute doing everything but achieving nothing. The crash that comes after can also be particularly bad, as I also have dysthymia, which can tip over into a major depressive episode depending on other factors in my life at that time. For years I was misdiagnosed as having "probably Bipolar Type II" by a doctor who didn't believe teenage girls could "get" ADHD* and convinced my parents I needed psychoactive drugs. The drugs I was on didn't help, in fact, they made me worse so I was taken off them.

It wasn't until I found an ADHD specialist as an adult a few years ago that I made any real progress. And I'll be honest, I was shocked when she diagnosed me with ADHD, I really didn't think I had it. Right up until we started doing the work and slowly but surely my mental health began to improve and my understanding of myself with it.

Sometimes there are days when I will be wired to the moon and it will derail my entire day because I can't focus on a single thing/I'll focus too much on a single thing. Other times, like when I am closer to my menstrual cycle, I'll crash into inattentiveness and depression because of how my hormones affect my various different conditions, including my ADHD. Medication would likely help with this, but due to medical reasons, that's currently not an option for me so I do the best I can.

That said, if you’re experiencing something more than hyperactivity but it's not mania, you may be experiencing a form of hypomania and you should talk to a doctor about your concerns.

Hypomania typically occurs in Bipolar Type II disorder, which is less severe than the manic episodes in Bipolar I. I’ve experienced both manic and hypomanic episodes in my life due to medication interactions, and they felt very different from ADHD hyperactivity. It's not just derailing mile-a-minute thoughts, it's something usually completely mood-altering and out of control feeling followed by devastating crashes.

If you're on any medications and are worried you are experiencing something like this, you need to talk to your doctor. You might just need a dosage tweak, or you might be better off on a different medication altogether. Also, make a thorough check of any and all medications you are taking to check for any interactions.

I'm on a cocktail of meds for my MCAS, which if I were to combine them with the SSRI one of my doctors wants me to try, would result in serotonin syndrome. The doctor didn't notice this, but the pharmacist sure as shit did!

Some people (ask me how I know) even develop mild hypomania from overusing the sunlamps used to treat SAD (link), which is why brands like Verilux now include warnings in their leaflets about not using the lamps for more than X amount of time a day. Thankfully it goes away once you stop overusing the lamps.

Which actually brings me to something you asked last time about being unable to sleep at night. Insomnia and delayed sleep phase cycles are not uncommon in ADHD. This is likely because our circadian rhythm is thought to be out of whack (link).

You also mentioned having racing thoughts at night too, which is not uncommon either with hyperactivity. I find if I get overstimulated before trying to sleep, I’ll end up lying there awake with what I like to call “radio ADHD” playing in my head. It can range from snippets of songs stuck on repeat, conversations, things I’ve watched on TV, arguments, or if something is happening the next day, fixating on not being late for it. Hence, I end up getting no sleep because you can’t accidentally sleep in if you don’t sleep. *jazz hands of despair.*

Sometimes I find Radio ADHD soothing if it’s fixating on something chill, but it can get annoying fast and even distressing if I’m tired and can’t “change the station.” (I’d say “shut it off,” but as of yet, I’ve never been able to do that. Medication helps some people with this, as can looking into “sleep hygiene” if you haven’t already.) Conversely, if I’m bored or something is too stressful, I will 100% fall asleep because my brain would literally rather just turn off than do something I don’t want to do or is a low dopamine reward task.

Brains are fun.

Anyway, I uh, I am not sure if any of this is useful to you, but I hope it helps. Mostly I'm just repeating back what my specialist said when I asked her about it lol. Good luck, and I hope you figure things out.

----

*NB: It's important to note that ADHD and Bipolar Disorder can be comorbid. It's not a one or the other situation. I’m just throwing it out there in case hearing that helps someone else pursue the proper diagnosis!

[yournameoneverypage]

When You're Ready

Reader request: Shawn Mendes x (y/n). "Shawn is on tour and invites the reader to the show so he can ask her to be his girlfriend and he sings When You're Ready, but Camila shows up and the reader is convinced that it's for C and not for her."

Word Count: ~3.7

Notes: Mostly fluff with brief moments of angst, and a smut ending.

Warnings: NSFW

~ * ~

(Y/n) stood at baggage claim at LAX, waiting for her blush-colored suitcase to roll by on the carousel. She was going to be in California for almost a week. Why? Well, her best friend was Shawn Mendes and he was currently on tour. He was missing her something fierce, he had said, and he wanted her to come see him.

Shawn had two sold out shows, consecutive nights, at the Staples Center followed by a show in San Francisco three days later, so why not make a week of it? His idea, but the second he mentioned it she was on board. She’d figure it out, find a way to make it work.

Any time she got to spend with him was both treasured and torturous. But she would go through the pain and heartache over and over again if it meant nearly a week with her most favorite person.

See, the thing was, (y/n) had been in love with Shawn for nearly as long as she had known him.

~ * ~

After retrieving her bag, (y/n) went in search of her driver. Shawn had said he or she would be holding a sign with her name on it. Shawn had a few interviews to do that morning, so (y/n) would be taken to his hotel to wait for him to finish, and then they’d have the entire afternoon and evening to spend together.

Aside from the aforementioned interviews, this was a day off for Shawn and he wanted to make the most of it because the Staples Center shows were the following two nights, and there wouldn’t be much down time during the days with soundchecks, meet and greets, and Q&As before showtime. Fortunately they would have more time to spend together between LA and San Francisco.

(Y/n) located her driver, who smiled brightly and introduced himself as John. He took her bag and engaged her in friendly chatter as he led her toward an idling Range Rover.

Who left a vehicle like this idling curbside at the airport?

John opened the rear passenger door for her with a knowing grin. (Y/n) started to climb in before she even noticed him.

“Shawn!” She almost tipped over into his lap reaching across the seat to hug him.

“Surprise, babe!” he chuckled into her ear.

“You’re here!”

“I’m sorry I didn’t collect you myself, but as much as I love my fans, I didn’t want to get stuck here for a half an hour taking selfies.”

“I thought you were in interviews all morning.”

“I was. I was hoping to come with John to pick you up, but I honestly didn’t know how long all the interviews were going to take so I didn’t want you to be disappointed if I said I would be here but then wasn’t.”

He was always so thoughtful; it was one of the many, many things (y/n) loved about him. She linked her hand with his between them, squeezed, and smiled. “I missed you.”

With a grin, he leaned over and kissed her forehead. “Missed you, too. So much. I’m so happy you’re here,” he breathed.

~ * ~

The day flew by way too quickly.

Once Shawn got (y/n) checked in and settled at the hotel, in a room that adjoined his, they grabbed lunch at one of Shawn’s favorite places.

It was (y/n)’s first ever visit to Los Angeles. Shawn had asked her if there were any specific things that were on her must do/see list, and he’d take care of everything.

They visited the Griffith Observatory, and strolled down the Hollywood Walk of Fame.

(Y/n) thought, and Shawn agreed, that too much attention might be drawn to them if he was spotted along Venice Beach or the Santa Monica Pier, as he had already been approached a few times during their activities earlier in the day. (Y/n) had been understanding and supportive of him spending a few minutes chatting with his fans and taking photos. She actually took a few of the photos herself.

Another day, he promised.

Instead, they spent a good part of the late afternoon and early evening at the Getty Center Museum.

They had dinner in Little Tokyo, followed by drinks at a tiki bar. Only one for (y/n) because she was a lightweight and tiki drinks were known to be quite strong. Shawn stopped after two, as he had a full day the next day and didn’t want to risk waking up with a hangover.

Back at the hotel, freshly showered, in pajamas, and in Shawn’s room, stretched out on his king-sized bed, Shawn and (y/n) ordered something from room service to share.

Even though they had chosen a movie to watch, they were too busy talking and laughing to pay much attention to the television.

~ * ~

Staples Center, Day One, had (y/n) immersed in the thick of things with Shawn, his band, and his crew. She knew only a few of them and was introduced to many more. Her laminated pass was the same as what everyone else had, giving her access to anything and anywhere she wished.

She soaked up as much as possible.

Shawn didn’t always attend soundcheck with his band, but for (y/n) he definitely wanted to be there so she could fully experience it. She stayed backstage, chatting with Shawn’s people while he did his meet and greet photos. She sat in on his Q&A session but stayed unobtrusively toward the back of the room. She could talk to him whenever she wanted; this was his fans’ time with him.

The concert was unbelievable, as (y/n) knew it would be. Shawn always left his heart and gratitude on stage.

That night they were in (y/n)’s room, she on one of the doubles, Shawn in the other. He was still a little high on adrenaline, asking her how she enjoyed the day, and especially how she enjoyed the show.

She knew it wouldn’t be long before he completely crashed out. When he did, he was still in her room.

~ * ~

Staples Center, Day Two, was much the same, although they started the day with Shawn dragging (y/n) to the gym to work out with him. They also skipped soundcheck to get lost together in the backstage corridors.

The closer it came to showtime, the more anxious Shawn seemed to get. He had a different vibe about him than he had the night before.

While eating dinner, (y/n) asked him if everything was alright. He assured her everything was amazing; it just felt like something big was about to happen and he hoped it would turn out to be a good kind of big.

~ * ~

Again, the show was absolutely incredible, although after the song he normally ended with, before acknowledging his band and going into the encore, he tried to quiet the deafening audience with a finger pressed against his lips.

Of course, it was futile. He just laughed, somewhat nervously, and said, “This song is for someone very special to me. Someone who is here tonight. I want her to know how I feel about her...”

That seemed to get everyone’s attention.

Shawn found (y/n) in the audience, met her eyes, and smiled adoringly.

Maybe I had too many drinks But that's just what I needed I hope that you don't think that what I'm saying sounds conceited When I look across the room, and you're staring right back at me Like somebody told a joke and we're the only ones laughin'

(Y/n)’s heart started thumping. He couldn’t be singing this for her, could he...? He had never expressed any interest in her as more than a friend. Had he?

Don't know why I tried 'Cause ain't nobody like you Familiar disappointment every single time I do Every single night my arms are not around you My mind's still wrapped around you

A couple of girls beside (y/n) bent their heads together and pointed to something or someone standing to the side of the stage. Shawn seemed to notice, as she had, and looked toward the side stage.

She followed his line of vision to see Camila standing there, beaming brightly. She put her fingertips to her lips and blew him a big kiss.

(Y/n) didn’t notice, over the dizzying blood rush in her head, that Shawn seemed to stumble a little through the chorus.

Baby, tell me when you're ready I'm waitin' Baby, any time you're ready I'm waitin'

Even ten years from now If you haven't found somebody I promise, I'll be around Tell me when you're ready I'm waitin'

He glanced once more toward Camila, but just as quickly his smile settled again in (y/n)’s direction. His voice steadied and grew stronger.

What if my dad is right When he says that you're the one No, I can't even argue I won't even fight him on it Call you when it's late And I know that you're in bed 'Cause I'm three hours back Seems like you're always six ahead

(Y/n) smiled back, although it seemed more reflexive than genuine, as her heart was currently crumbling to pieces. She tried her hardest to be happy for her best friend and the woman he was currently confessing his feelings for, on stage, in front of everyone.

Don't know why I tried 'Cause ain't nobody like you Familiar disappointment every single time I do Every single night my arms are not around you My mind's still wrapped around you

Baby, tell me when you're ready I'm waitin' Baby, any time you're ready I'm waitin'

Even ten years from now If you haven't found somebody I promise, I'll be around Tell me when you're ready I'm waitin', yeah

And if I have to, I'll wait forever Say the word and I'll change my plans Yeah, you know that we fit together I know your heart like the back of my hand...

Before the song ended, overwhelmed, unable to continue her façade, (y/n) had slipped from the crowd and backstage.

She wasn’t sure where to go once she was backstage. She was fighting back tears, so her vision was blurry, but she didn’t want to stop to ask anyone how to get out of the venue because they might ask why she was crying and then it would all turn into one big mess.

A voice from behind her asked, “You’re Shawn’s friend, right? Are you looking for his dressing room?” Was she? Would she be able to face him after his encore and bows?

“Yes, please,” she found herself answering.

“End of the corridor, turn right, first door on the left.”

(Y/n) nodded her thanks and began to follow the directions she was given. She wasn’t sure if it would be the first or last place anyone would be looking for her.

~ * ~

Shawn burst into his dressing room, out of breath from the end of his show and running around looking for (y/n). Incredibly relieved to see her, he gasped, “Are you okay? What happened?? You just disappeared!”

“I’m sorry. I just needed a few minutes.”

“In the middle of the most important song of the night?”

Her voice cracked. “I said I was sorry.” And she was. She should have stayed till the end. “I was caught off guard.”

“Oh no, babe. Shit! I’m sorry, (y/n). I overwhelmed you, didn’t I? I shouldn’t have made it so public. It should have been a private conversation. Forgive me?” he whispered.

“Of course. You’re my best friend and I’m happy for you,” she smiled softly, truly. And she was. His happiness meant more to her than anything else. It was just going to take some time to refortify her heart. “I wish you and Camila the best.”

“Camila?” Little wrinkles formed between his eyebrows. “What are you talking about?”

“What do you mean, what am I talking about?” she puffed.

Suddenly Shawn started laughing.

(Y/n) placed her hands in the center of his chest and pushed him away, unamused.

He caught her wrists and pulled her to him. “I wasn’t singing that song for her.” He placed her hands over his heart and covered them with his own. “I was singing it for you, my beautiful, clueless, wonderful, precious love.”

“What?” she exhaled.

“I finished singing and looked for your eyes, only to find you gone.”

“I don’t understand,” she whispered.

“I was going to ask you to be my girlfriend. Not Camila. You, (y/n). In front of the entire Staples Center audience. Why did you think I wanted Camila?”

“You kept looking at her side stage.”

“I glanced at her twice,” he contended, lightheartedly. “I was surprised. I didn’t expect her to be here tonight. It’s true that she recently told me she has deeper feelings for me-”

“And you have always had feelings for her.”

“I had feelings for her. Past tense. Before I met you. Are you really arguing with me about how I feel about you?” he smirked.

“But you didn’t sing that song last night, when Camila wasn’t here.”

“You are!” he laughed again.

“Stop laughing!” she exclaimed, unable to stop herself from giggling, her heart blooming with hope. She then whispered, “Did you really mean it?”

“Oh, darling...

“If I had professed my feelings last night and you had turned me down, I don’t think I would have been able to get through tonight. Telling you tonight, when there were three days before San Francisco, would have either given us time to disappear together for a few days, or would have given me time to sort myself out if you didn’t want me the way I want you.

“Please tell me you want me.”

(Y/n) wanted to scream, yes, I want you!, but instead she teased, trying to keep a straight face, “I don’t know. Any boyfriend of mine has to be a good kisser. Are you a good kisser?”

“I am a fantastic kisser,” he grinned. He tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and slid his hand to the nape of her neck.

“Prove it.”

His other hand circled her waist, fell against the small of her back. He leaned in, watched her eyelids flutter, then close, and gently guided her lips to his.

She had imagined this moment for so long but it was much more than she had ever expected. Thousands of thoughts were forced away to make room for one single idea. How could one kiss cause the world to fall away around her?

“Shawn,” she said, breathless, easing away.

“Still proving it,” he murmured. He softly licked at the seam of her lips, and when she responded he deepened their kiss. Her heart was pounding, and she was warm from head to toe. She felt his tongue meet hers and her entire body began to hum.

Their knees were weak when their lips separated.

Shawn touched his nose to hers. “Well...?”

“I will be more than happy to kiss you all night long, but only after you take a shower,” she giggled.

~ * ~

(Y/n) knocked on the adjoining door. She didn’t wait for a response before letting herself through.

Shawn was leaning against the dresser, partly sitting on it, phone to his ear, wearing nothing but baggy, cotton pajama pants. His chest and feet were bare. By his side of the conversation, (y/n) grasped that they were talking about the plan for the days leading up to San Francisco.

He held his hand out to her in invitation. His legs fell open and she automatically moved into the V they made. He ended his call, set his cell aside, and placed his large hands on her hips.

“So, about what you said... Something about kissing me all night long?”

She moved even closer to him. One of her hands curled around the back of his neck, the other tangled in his still damp curls. The roughened pads of his thumbs caressed the bare, soft skin just above the waistband of her pajama shorts.

She kissed him, tenderly at first, and then with growing intensity. He gently bit her top lip, sucked it, her teeth tugged on his lower lip. His kiss was determined and sent her head spinning. She began to tremble as she clung to him.

Shawn’s lips slowed and softened; he eased away and breathed, “I’ve already waited so long; we can take our time.” He slid his hands further up (y/n)’s sides, under her shirt. “We don’t have to rush into anything. I can wait for you.” She felt his thumbs brush either side of her breasts.

She started trailing tiny kisses from his chin up along his jawline before touching the tip of her tongue to the lobe of his ear. “I don’t want to wait,” she purred.

“Oh, thank God,” he groaned before again pressing hungry lips to hers.

She responded without hesitation.

Her hands trailed down his chest and to his sides, her fingers playing over the ripples of his stomach. She brushed her knuckles against the start of his arousal and his breath hitched, cupped him through thin cotton.

He arched his pelvis against the heat of her palm and she heard a low, rumbling moan from the back of his throat. He tangled a hand in her hair, tugged gently. He bit down on the skin of her clavicle, sucked, soothed it with his tongue.

She pulled away from his mouth. “Shawn!” she scolded, playfully, chuckled, “You’re going to leave a mark!”

“Good. Show everyone you’re mine. Mark you everywhere. But this,” he smirked, kissing the already purpling bloom, “will be the only one people can see.”

“Fuck,” she sighed. His claim on her made a shiver trickle up her spine.

“If you insist,” he grinned, smugly.

Feeling bold and sexy, she hooked a fingertip in the waistband of his pajama bottoms and starting walking backward. He stood to his full height and followed.

(Y/n) felt the backs of her legs hit the mattress. With fluid movement, she slid her shorts down, stepped out of them, and pulled her camisole up and over her head. She stood before him in small lace panties, breasts bare, nipples tight.

The way he looked upon her made her blood thrum, her body flush. He licked his lips, bit softly on the fuller, lower one.

His hand reached out and cupped one of her breasts. He gently tugged at her nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. Instinctively, her hand slipped between her legs, at her core, and she rubbed herself through the damp lace. His nostrils flared when he caught the scent of her arousal. He whimpered, her name falling like a prayer from his lips.

“I wanna see you,” (y/n) purred.

Obeying, oh so eagerly, Shawn pushed his pants down, over his ass, off, his cock bouncing free, filling, curling up toward his stomach right before her eyes. He wrapped thumb and forefinger around the base, his other fingers pressed flush against his scrotum.

“Been thinking about me like this?” he hummed.

Yes. God, yes. Maybe one day she would tell him just how much. It was her turn to lick her lips and bite the lower one.

They fell together onto the bed in a tangle of limbs and with a crash of lips. When they separated to catch their breath, (y/n) reached over to turn off the bedside lamp.

“Nuh-uh, Sugar,” Shawn rasped. “Waited too long for this.” Voice rough with desire he sang softly, “I wanna love you with the lights on, keep you up all night long... Darling, I wanna see every inch of you, I get lost in the way you move...”

She might have giggled if her panties weren’t being drawn down over her hips, if calloused fingertips hadn’t begun to dance along soft, hot, electrified skin, lips and tongue following.

He took a dusky, peaked nipple into his mouth. Her back arched, hands grasping at the sheets at her sides, and moaned softly. He sucked her other nipple into his mouth, tasting, humming.

“Shawn,” she whined, moving a hand to tangle it in his dark curls, tugging him away from her breasts.

“Tell me what you want, Love.”

“I want you. I need you,” she pleaded.

“What was that?”

“Fuck me, Shawn.”

“Mm... Since you asked so sweetly,” he smirked, stroking his cock. He rolled on a condom and moved to rest between her legs.

She reached between them, taking him in her hand, and he shuddered. She wanted to feel the moment he slid into her. He let her guide him. Their eyes met and held, bodies drew together, foreheads touched. She groaned with deep satisfaction into his mouth as she adjusted to his girth and length.

He wheezed, stilled as he bottomed out. She was so tight around him that if he began to move in that moment it would be over too soon.

“You okay there, Mendes?” she purred and imperceptibly tightened her legs around his waist.

“Oh God.” That tiny shift was almost too much. “You feel so good. Too good,” he mumbled. “I need a minute.” His arms on either side of her, holding his weight above her, he buried his lips in the crook of her neck, centered on the scent of her skin as he salvaged control.

One hand again tangled in in his hair, the other stroked the skin of his upper back.

“Okayokay,” he mumbled, and he began to rock into her, slow... rhythmic... deep.

She gasped when the pebbled nubs of her breasts brushed against his taut nipples. Her whimpers and groans mingled with his rumbles and moans. She was torn between closing her eyes and wanting to watch his face as warmth and pleasure coursed through her.

He wanted her to climax before him. Wanted to watch her fall apart beneath him.

He knew she was nearly there when she began to ripple on the bed like a wave on the sea. The tide came all the way up; he was caught in the rush. And then the knot at the root of his cock dissolved in fire and he was falling fast, craving the feel of her so close to him, unsure where he ended and she began.

( FIN )

~ * ~

@theregoesmyherojd @benito-mi-vida @shawn-is-my-giant-jellybean @mendesblurb

[urmomsstuntdouble]

89 for the writing promp game? 👀👀 whichever characters u feel like it fits

oof this took a while. wasn’t sure who to write it about, and i didnt use those exact words, but. yeah. here it is! 

(3rd person pov, lithuania x romano)

.

Nobody enjoyed world meetings. It was a known fact, and one regular humans would probably assume without knowing what transpired at such meetings- Which wasn’t much, in all honesty. And while they weren’t fun, they weren’t always bad. Sometimes they’d be in a nice city, and flights would line up with those of friends, and so forth- Today was not one of those days. 

Tolvydas had stumbled off their train at three o’clock in the morning, and into their hotel bed two hours later. Their body now ran on two hours of sleep, and the conditions of the meeting didn't do much to help them stay awake. Jackets and ties were folded over the backs of several chairs, and some of the other nations held small wooden fans in death grips. Some were slumped over, and others stayed at attention. Of the other Baltic states, Estonia had removed his glasses and Latvia was clearly more focussed on his smartphone than the presentation. Tolvydas couldn’t blame them. The heat of the room seemed a cage, pressing in on them and making sweat drip down their back. 

Why did the meeting have to be in Southern Europe? Tolvydas could handle the heat, but being trapped inside for an entire day- On which nothing tainted the pure azure of the sky- was a lot. A glance around told them they weren’t alone, as nearly every forehead shone with sweat. Every now and then, Tolvydas’ head touched their chest and they jerked back to attention. Their efforts were futile, though, and they’d yet to catch a single word of Paraguay’s speech. 

Someone tapped their shoulder- Feliks, sitting at their left. Tolvydas looked down at them, where they’d rested their head on crossed arms. 

“So bored,” they mouthed, and Tolvydas nodded. They shifted their notepad into Feliks’ line of sight and gouged the word TIRED into the paper. Feliks nodded with pink cheeks and drooping eyelids, and swiped the pen away from Tolvydas. Wish there was air conditioning. LORENZO DOESN’T BELIEVE IN AIR CONDITIONING. 

Feliks giggled at that, attracting the glares of some nearby nations. Pink cheeks turned red, and they sank down a bit in their seat, folding their arms. Tolvydas sighed, and rested their head in their hands. Would it be a good idea to tape their eyes open? No, and they didn’t have any tape…shame. Tolvydas tilted their head around, looking for the host nation. Lorenzo. Romano, or Italy- They hardly ever spoke of things related to their nationhood. In fact, they only spoke as a result of social happenstance, that being Feliciano’s friendship with Feliks, and the Italy brothers shared a car, and that Tolvydas had spent much of the 90s on Feliks’ couch. A coincidence Tolvydas was fond of, actually. It was rare that nations befriended each other purely for social reasons. Even Feliks came into their life for the sake of politics. 

Tolvydas looked around the room yet again, this time searching for Lorenzo. Would he be drowning in sweat too, they wondered? The answer seemed to be yes, and they bit back a smile upon seeing him. He sat hunched over the desk, with his suit jacket resting on the back of his chair. Dark circles lined both his armpits and eyes. As if cued by their staring, Lorenzo opened his water bottle and took four hearty gulps, then returned it, empty, to the desk. Tolvydas blinked, and wiped some sweat from their forehead. When they returned to their hotel room, they would get rid of all these clothes and lay on the bed with the windows open until they fell asleep. 

They shuffled their papers about, searching for the weekend’s itinerary. They gave their speech the day before, but about a hundred nations still had to take their turns…According to the schedule, today’s last presenter would be Qatar. So the meeting would be over by…seven, maybe? Tolvydas pushed some air through their lips and picked at a loose thread in their shirt sleeve. 

It wasn’t until about seven thirty that Qatar gave her presentation, and closing the meeting took another half hour. Once that was done, the nations milled about and spoke, as per their custom. Rare was it that they were allowed to be people- Tolvydas would never understand how people could say they ‘didn’t pay attention to politics.’ Paying attention to politics was all they could ever do. Then again, they were Lithuania, not a person. 

Fortunately, many of the nations elected to move outside after the meeting ended. They fit right in with the students, bustling around the university campus. Nations fragmented here, splitting off with friends or returning to their hotels. Most importantly, though, they were stopped by people asking to take selfies. Tolvydas smiled and laughed when required, and let themself be dragged around with the other EU members. 

“Where are we going?” Asked Feliks at their side, and they nodded, glancing around. Tolvydas wasn’t sure they recognized this city- They’d been to so many, it was hard to remember, and European cities started to look the same after a while. 

“Not sure,” said somebody- Hungary. “I think Vene said something about a bar? I wasn’t really paying attention.” She snorted like it was punctuation, and Feliks laughed. 

“Oh, Erzsi! Hey, I didn’t see you there!” Feliks launched himself at her, and was lucky that she reacted fast enough to catch him. 

“Hi, Erzsebet,” Tolvydas said, suppressing a laugh. 

“Hey, losers,” She said, arms clenched around Feliks’ waist. “Glad to see you here, that meeting was stuffy as hell.” 

“Ugh, I know, right?” Feliks said. They righted themself, walking independent of Erzsebet again. “I was practically dying of the heatstroke.” 

“I don’t think you can get heatstroke if you’re not in the sun,” Tolvydas said. 

“You can,” a voice chimed in- Spain. “Trust me, summers are brutal at my place. Hey, can I ask you a question, Lithuania?” Tolvydas glanced over their shoulder, as if there was some other Lithuania he could be talking to. 

“Uh, yes,” They said. 

“Do you have nude beaches in your country?” Tolvydas choked on their own spit, and let out a strangled chuckle. 

“Y-Yes,” They laughed, “Sorry, I didn’t expect you to ask something like that-”

“I was thinking about all the ways I’ve gotten heat stroke before,” Spain told them, holding his hands in front of his chest like a T-Rex.

“And one was at a nude beach?” 

“Well, yes…” He narrowed his eyes. “More than one, actually. I don’t like nude beaches, Lithuania, because if you’re not careful you can get sunburned…I mean, you can on a regular beach, but it’s so awkward to be, like, in front of your people and putting sunscreen on your entire body, you know? And I’m a country, so it’s a lot of attention, and all that…You know?” 

“Well,” Tolvydas said, “Not really, because I don’t get a lot of sun, but yeah, sort of.” They bit their lip- Since they’d been talking to Spain, they had totally lost track of where they were in the city. The university was out of sight, and Feliks was now absorbed into a conversation with Hungary and the other EU Slavs. 

“Hm. You are pretty pale.” Tolvydas tucked some hair behind their ear. 

“Yeah,” They said, not sure what else to say. 

“Yeah,” Spain murmured, eyes darting about the street. “Where are you taking us, Feli?” 

“What?!” Asked Italy. He stopped in his tracks and turned around, causing Finland to crash into him. “Oh, crap! I’m sorry, Finland.” Finland gave him a smile and assured him it was no problem. 

“I said, where are you taking us?” Spain shouted, “I don’t recognize this street.” 

“Umm, I actually forget?” Italy laughed, “My brother has a bar he likes that’s near here, but I don’t like it so I don’t remember what it’s called? And he’s busy now, so- Yeah. Oh, hi Lithuania! I didn't see you there, how’re you doing today?” Tolvydas started, eyes widening. 

“Hi,” They said, “I’m tired, but it’s alright. You have a lovely home.” 

“Thanks,” Italy said, “Though it’s really my brother’s, I…I don’t really like it that much down here, to be honest. Don’t tell him I said that. But it is nice to visit!” 

“Excuse you, it’s lovely here!” Spain said, “I’m telling on you, Feli.” 

“Don't!” Italy shrieked, “Please?” He turned to Spain with wide eyes. Even Tolvydas would have to oblige, and they had plenty of experience saying no to cute people. Well. Cute dogs. And Raivis. And Feliks, and Russia. Maybe they did have experience saying no to cute people after all. 

“I’m only joking,” Spain said, “Besides, Lithuania here agrees with me, don’t you?” 

“Uh,” Tolvydas said, “I do, yes. It’s- It’s a very nice climate you have here. And I like this street- Very, uh, very nice cobblestones.” Italy snorted, his hair falling into his eyes.

“Thanks, I’m glad you like them,” He said, though they weren’t his. Tolvydas hummed, and took a moment to really look at the street they were on. Buildings kept the sun from reaching them, but not the warmth. Storefronts beckoned here and there, with parked motorcycles at intersections and window boxes at second floor windows. Every so often they passed some graffiti, though most of it was nonsensical to Tolvydas. Not once did they see a street sign. If it weren’t for Lorenzo’s lead, Tolvydas would be completely lost. 

Finally, the group made it to the bar. It was a nice, quiet place- Tolvydas felt bad for the staff. They hoped nobody would get kicked out, though it was unlikely. Who was a nation, really, if they’d never been asked to leave a bar before? 

Tolvydas wound up sitting beside Spain, with Lorenzo on their other side. Neither spoke to them- Spain was discussing the art of bartending with Italy, and Lorenzo preferred glaring into his cocktail. Tolvydas wondered if they should talk to him- They’d only spoken a brief hello today, after all, and that was a formality. But he seemed annoyed, with his furrowed brow and crossed arms…And now he was looking at them. 

“Why are you looking at me?” Tolvydas sat a little straighter.

“Um. I, uh, I was wondering if it would be okay for me to talk to you,” They said, mouth dry. Lorenzo bit the corner of his lip, eyebrows raised. 

“Why wouldn’t it be?” 

“I don’t know, you looked, like, a bit irritated,” Tolvydas said, “S-Sorry.” 

“You’re right, I am,” Lorenzo said, “Fuckin’ hate hosting world meetings. There’s so many people who are just in my space, you know? And I didn’t even realize there were so many people following me when we were on the way here.” He lifted his cocktail. Black salt rimmed the glass, and Lorenzo licked some away. “Was talking to Belgium, got distracted. But she left to go back to her hotel, so. Anyway.” He hung his head between his shoulders. “That’s a bit much, I know.” 

“No,” Tolvydas said, “World meetings suck, whether you’re hosting or not…I don’t hate it but also there’s that invasion-y feeling.”

“Invasion-y feeling, yeah,” Lorenzo murmured, and licked more salt from the rim of his glass. “‘M tired.” 

“Me too,” Tolvydas said. “I need to bring hair ties tomorrow.” 

“That sounds useful,” Lorenzo mumbled. He took a slow drink of his cocktail, wincing at the end. “You don’t have anything to drink.” Tolvydas glanced down at the bar in front of them, and no, they didn’t. Huh, they hadn’t noticed. 

“I don't,” They said, and glanced over at the bartender. A young man with veiny forearms, chatting as he shook up a new drink. His hair was greased back into a pseudo helmet. 

“Giulio!” Lorenzo shouted, catching his attention. Giulio paused in his drink-making and glanced back, then nodded and went on with his business. “He’ll get you in a second.”

“Thanks,” Tolvydas murmured, “I could’ve waited.” 

“Yeah, but you’re talking to me right now,” Lorenzo said. He sipped his drink again. “And I don’t want to talk to you when I’m drinking and you’re not. Then it’s not equal.” 

“Fair enough,” Tolvydas said, “I can just shut up if you want me to-”

“No, we’re talking now,” Lorenzo said, “I want to talk. And it’s my country, so…yeah.” He took a drink. 

“I think it’s nice here,” Tolvydas said, “Very warm.” Lorenzo hummed, then glanced up- Giulio stood at the ready, finished with his previous drink. He exchanged some words with Lorenzo, who turned to Tolvydas after a moment. 

“What do you want?” 

“Um- Could I please have a krambambula?” Lorenzo relayed the message, and Giulio was up to drink-mixing. 

“What’s a krambambula?” Lorenzo mused, peering over the bar. 

“Wine and vodka,” Tolvydas responded, “Belarus’ favorite.” Lorenzo hummed.

“Didn’t you used to be married to her or something?” Tolvydas bowed their head, letting hair fall in front of their eyes. “So you did, huh?” 

“Y-Yes,” Tolvydas stammered, “Briefly, a hundred years ago-”

“She good in bed?” 

“What?” Their cheeks grew warm, too warm for it to simply be the heat. “No- I mean- I don’t know, see-” 

“Hey, calm down, I’m just making conversation.” Lorenzo waved a hand, “It’s none of my business, I know.” 

“We, um. Never slept together,” Tolvydas said, “She doesn’t like me very much, actually.” 

“Oh. That’s a shame,” Lorenzo said, and Tolvydas nodded, though they weren't sure what the shame actually was. A shame they never slept together? Maybe- Since she didn’t reciprocate their feelings, it was hard to really fantasize. They could daydream about kissing her all they wanted, but they’d still know that acting on it would be assault. So their feelings were in the process of fading away. A shame she didn’t like them very much? Eh, they would get over it. Eventually, maybe. They had time. 

Giulio returned with their drink. 

“Can I have a taste?” Lorenzo asked, “Never tried that before.” 

“Of course,” Tolvydas said, and handed him the glass. He took a sip, and struggled to keep his face from contorting in disgust. “You don't like vodka?” Tolvydas asked, taking a swig.  

“Shit’s nasty,” Lorenzo said, “Tastes like sadness. And like, we’ve all got issues or whatever, but mine aren’t so bad I need to drink vodka.” Tolvydas snorted. 

“Okay. Lightweight.” 

“Lightweight?!” 

“Yeah, vodka’s like 95% alcohol volume.” 

“Psh, whatever.” Lorenzo scoffed, and Tolvydas giggled at the sheer nonsense of it. “Why are you laughing at me?” He asked, leaning forward in his chair. 

“Psh, whatever?” They repeated, “That doesn’t even make sense.” 

“It does so,” He said, “You’re too small-brained to get it.” That stung a bit, but Tolvydas didn't mind. They understood it was a joke, though they didn’t appreciate it any more for understanding. 

“Whatever,” They said, looking away. Their eyes naturally picked Feliks out of the group- He sat on the bar, legs crossed, with a glass of wine held in both hands. He’d unbuttoned his shirt to the third button. Tolvydas shook their head- It wouldn’t be very long before they were completely drunk. 

“I hope Feliks doesn’t overdo it,” They thought. 

“Probably will. They look like they’d be wasted after two glasses of wine,” Lorenzo commented. Tolvydas jolted- They hadn't realized they were speaking aloud. 

“They’re- Yeah,” Tolvydas said, “They like parties, always have, but they get drunk too fast to enjoy it.” 

“Maybe that’s why they like parties so much. ‘Cause they don’t remember what one’s like, from all the drinking,” Lorenzo said, “Toni’s like that, sort of.” Tolvydas hummed, and swirled their drink around in the glass. 

“I don’t think such heavy drinking is a sign that one likes parties,” They murmured, “After all, if you like doing something, wouldn’t you want to experience as much of it as you can?” Lorenzo scoffed, and they turned their head to look at him. His arm was thrown around the back of his chair, with his chest out and facing them. Sweat still clung to his forehead- It was less oppressively hot in this bar than the meeting room, but only just. 

“Part of the allure of drinking is that it can make you forget about things,” He said, “Happy people don’t develop alcohol issues. And, you know, for people like us, it’s different, seeing as how we can’t fucking die.” Tolvydas shrugged in response. They shifted in their seat, feeling the cheap leather through their pants, and took another sip of their drink. Lorenzo was correct in that one liked to drink to forget. For people like them, there were virtually no downsides, save whatever you did while you were drinking. Once, Tolvydas had set a cow on fire and didn’t find out until the next morning when, in the clutches of a hangover, they were arrested. 

“I guess,” They said. Then, mind caught on the cow-arson, “What’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever done while drunk?” Lorenzo sucked air in through his teeth. 

“Done too much stupid shit to tell you off the top of my head,” He admitted, “But, uh, this one time, I drank up a town’s entire supply of wine. Bad move. Had to regrow my kidney.” Tolvydas winced, a bit less inclined to finish their drink. 

“That sounds painful.”

“Yeah,” Lorenzo said, “Much like hosting the fucking world meetings.” Hosting the world meetings was terrible- It was a constant headache to have so many other nations around you, especially if it was in your capital city. Tolvydas had never had maggots in a wound before, but they imagined that was what it felt like. 

“Oh, I know,” They said. It was a good thing they all shared the burden of hosting the meetings. Locations cycled through nations, such that Lithuania wouldn’t be the host country for another ten years- They’d still have to do smaller meetings, of course, like the EU and UN and such, but at least it wasn’t a world meeting. Over two hundred nations in the same city could make even the humans feel a bit off. 

“I’d be better if all you people hadn’t- hadn’t fucking followed me here. I mean- I didn’t want my idiot brother to invite the entire goddamn continent.”

“I’m sorry,” Tolvydas said, “I was just going with everyone else-”

“I don’t- You know, actually, I need to continue this conversation outside,” Lorenzo said, and stood up. He said a few words to Giulio and turned around, making for the door. Tolvydas’ skin pricked- What had they done wrong? It was just a simple conversation- But of course they’d manage to screw it up. They remained on the edge of their seat, with their eyes fixed on Lorenzo, as he walked out of the bar. As he got to the door, they stood. Should they apologise? Or- Or did Lorenzo want to fight them now? They pushed away the idea, knowing it was all probably fine. 

Tolvydas pulled out their wallet, and left a few euros beside their drink. They followed Lorenzo outside, stumbling when they left the bar. The moon had risen while they were in the bar. He stood in the middle of the sidewalk, bathed in silver light save the faint glow of a lit cigarette. Tolvydas swallowed. While it was dark outside, the heat from the day had yet to evaporate. Tolvydas speculated that if they were to touch Lorenzo’s skin, he’d be as warm as if he were sunbathing. Right, Lorenzo- They were not here to stare at him. 

“Are you okay?” Lorenzo jumped, turning around with wide eyes. His shoulders sagged when he saw them.

“Yeah,” He mumbled, “Just fuckin’ tired. Want to go home.” 

“Oh,” Tolydas said, “Sorry then, I’ll- I’ll fuck off now.” They turned away, poised to return to the bar. 

“No,” Lorenzo said, then bit his lips. “I mean-” He put his cigarette between his lips and took a long drag. He looked hollow for a moment before he turned his head and blew a ring with the smoke. “You smoke?”

“Uh, no, not really…not anymore.” 

Lorenzo hummed. “Shame. I could teach you how to blow rings, if you did.” 

“You still can,” Tolvydas said, voice paper-thin, “If you want. And if I could borrow a cigarette. World meetings are hard on the rest of us too.” Lorenzo raised an eyebrow, and pulled a pack of cigarettes out from his back pocket. 

“Ah, but you’re not the host, Lithuania. And you represent your entire country.” 

“You can call me Tolvydas,” They said, “I mean, if you’re comfortable with that.” 

“I just offered to teach you how to blow smoke rings. I don’t do that with everyone you know,” Lorenzo said, “Maybe I’m still fucked up from the meeting…But okay, sure. Tolvydas.” 

“Thanks,” They muttered, “Also yeah, sorry about your. Brother.” Lorenzo shrugged, and took another drag. 

“I don't want to think about him right now…No, I want to go home…” He bit his lip, and swayed from side to side. Was he alright? Tolvydas ran through a list of all the little things they knew to do if a nation was sick. Lorenzo coughed, and they twitched, hands reaching out for him. Instead of falling or even stumbling, Lorenzo put his cigarette to his lips another time. His cheeks shone in the orange glow. When he was done, he ground the butt under his heel. Three smoke rings floated away from his mouth. 

“I’m gonna go get drunk at home now…You can come if you want.” He turned on his heel, reducing the cigarette butt into a stain of ash. He had a nice gait, Tolvydas thought. A medium sized stride, and they couldn't help but notice the sway of his hips…

Several short and fast steps later, Tolvydas was by his side. 

song lyric asks

[theweasleysredhair]

Different [D.M.]

Character: Draco Malfoy

Word Count: 1592

Requested?: Yes/No

Summary: Y/n and Draco think they’re too different to be together but end up realising they’re not so different after all.

Disclaimer: Gif isn't mine, credit to whoever made it

A/n: I'm back writing for a old fave, I've missed writing for him. Anyhow, enjoy the fic!

~*~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK! REBLOGS ARE ABSOLUTELY FINE! <3

+ + + + +

Draco stared at the cream envelope in front of him, fingers slowly running over the green wax seal, his family crest neatly imprinted on it. He had a feeling that this letter was on it's way, but that still didn't mean he wanted it.

His parents always talked about it, about finding someone to carry on the family lineage with, but there was only one person Draco wanted, and that person was you. Not some stuck up, pretentious pureblood Slytherin, who had their parents buy them everything they wanted, but you. A smart, quick-witted and curious Ravenclaw, who Draco found to be more interesting, and more beautiful than any other girl he had ever seen.

However, he was certain his parents wouldn't agree with him when he said that she was perfect for him. A part of him didn't care - he just wanted you.

And so, as he carefully sliced open the envelope and pulled out the letter, he couldn't help his eyes wandering over to the Ravenclaw table, where you were sitting with a few of your friends. You sent a smile over at him, which he returned happily before looking away.

He opened up the folded parchment and skimmed the words written in ink, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. Usually, he'd be happy to have contact from his parents, but the content of this letter was, for the most part, his mother talking about how it was time to start the choosing process of his future wife. And, whilst no names were given, Draco had the feeling that they meant someone like Pansy, or maybe Daphne or Astoria, rather than you.

As he got to the end of the letter, he crumpled it up and shoved it away in his pocket, standing up to leave the Great Hall. If he could just get through this year without his parents forcing him into a relationship, he might have a shot at being with you.

***

"Can you believe it?" Draco sneered, turning his nose up at the letter in your hands, that you were currently reading. You were sat on the floor beside him in the Astronomy tower, a usual meeting place for you both to spend time together. You weren't in a relationship as such, but you were as close as.

"Pureblood families tend to want to marry their children off to other purebloods," you said, though you knew Draco already knew that much. "I don't want someone else, you know that, right?" Draco murmured as you glanced over at him.

"You might not have a choice, Draco. The girl your mother wants for you needs to be Slytherin and pureblood," you said gently, handing the letter back.

"I bet I could change her mind. You're more suited to me than any Slytherin," he said determinedly, shoving the letter away and grabbing your hands with his own, running his thumbs across your palms.

"Am I though? We're... we're not exactly similar people, are we? We're... different. Very different," you admitted, looking down at your lap instead of into the blonde boy's blue-grey eyes, "I'm a Ravenclaw, you're a Slytherin. I like books and learning, you like... having power and getting your own way. I don't want to be blunt about it, but I don't think we're compatible enough to make it for the long term. I know we care for each other, but let's be realistic. Please. We've only really been friends for a couple of months, and we hardly know much about each other in the grand scheme of things. Your parents don't want someone like me for you, even if you do.

Yeah, sure, we've had a few good times, and a snog now and then, but you don't seriously think we'd be able to make it work do you? I don't fit into your life, Draco. It's okay, I understand. I'm not who your parents want, and that's okay too. You'll find someone better than me, I promise. I'm just not right for you, I always had a doubt, but this letter just confirms it. I'm sorry Draco. You know I... you know I do care for you, but you also know, deep down, that this won't work," you shook your head as you pulled your hands from his and began to stand up.

"Wait! You're not serious, are you? I... I like you and I don't want somebody else. I don't want 'somebody better'. There isn't somebody better, because I choose the best, and that's what you are. You can't end this because we're 'different'. You can't!" Draco frowned as he stood up to follow you.

You turned back, taking a shaky breath, "I'm sorry, I just don't want to continue this, to let myself fall for you if you're going to be taken from me. I can't let myself go through heartache like that. Look, if you can convince your parents to change their mind, then I'm all for us, but there's just too many things against us at the moment."

With that, you wiped a tear you didn't realise had fallen until after you finished speaking, and headed down the steps.

"But you're..." he sighed as he realised you were already too far away to hear him. He kicked the ground and closed his eyes, "Perfect for me." Draco sighed again in frustration, slamming his hand against the nearest wall before running after you.

"Y/n!"

He ran down the stairs as fast as he could, hoping to catch up with you. As he skidded into the hallway, he looked around desperately. You were nowhere to be seen.

***

It had been a couple of days since Draco had seen you, and he was starting to become restless. He missed your presence and your witty comebacks, and couldn't stand not being around you much longer.

As he rounded a corner in a hallway near the library, he happened to glance through the window and see a small glimpse of you. He stopped in his tracks and quickly entered the room, heading over to the almost-hidden table in the back corner.

His eyes softened as he saw how stressed you looked, nose stuck in a book and a frown settled on your face.

Draco took the seat opposite you and cleared his throat. Fancy seeing you here," he said as though he hadn't been searching nearly the entire castle for you for the last couple of days.

Your head shot up when you heard the familiar voice, and you had to force the smile that was fighting to emerge just from his mere presence away.

"Oh... hey," you spoke softly, putting your book down and twiddling your thumbs nervously - a habit Draco had noticed.

"You've been avoiding me," he stated. When he didn't receive an answer, he decided to change the subject, "Why do you look so stressed?"

You swallowed, "Well I um... My parents keep getting at me to improve my grades." Draco nodded for you to continue, and though you knew you should be trying to stay away from him before you fell too hard, part of you knew it was futile. And besides, maybe talking about it would help, at least a little.

"It's just... It's all 'Y/n, you should be at a higher level by now' or 'Y/n, why aren't you getting an Outstanding in everything? An Acceptable is unacceptable!' and honestly I'm just fed up with it. Yes, I am in Ravenclaw but that doesn't necessarily mean I'm academically gifted. Maybe I enjoy learning, but I enjoy learning what I want, not the entire bloody History of Magic!" You let out a breath you didn't realise you were holding, instantly feeling better for unloading your troubles onto someone else.

"I get it. My father gets at me too. Always saying how that awful mudblood - sorry, I know you hate that word - Granger scores higher than me and it should be embarrassing for me. He wants me to be exactly like him. Maybe I don't want to be. I used to do, but recently I've been having the urge to... rebel against him," Draco admitted, "And then after that letter, I just don't feel like I want to be who they want me to be anymore. I want to be me, I want to be able to choose my own friends, and my own future wife. You ran off before I could tell you this the other night, but Y/n... I think I love you. I want you to be my future wife. If you'll have me."

You couldn't help the smile that spread across your lips as you heard Draco tell you he loves you, "I suppose I could get on board with that. I just have one request."

"Name it, I'll do anything," Draco reached over to grab your hand, which you gladly accepted.

"Promise you won't just throw me away when you realise I'm not good enough for you," you murmured, looking down at your intertwined hands.

"Are you actually insane? I would never do that. I am quite fond of you, you know," Draco told you. "Good, because I'm quite fond of you too," you said with a grin, making Draco's face light up.

"Then you won't mind if I kiss you?" He asked as he made his way around the table to where you were.

You shook your head as he placed his hands on your hips, "Not at all, kiss away Malfoy."

"Gladly," he mumbled as he pushed his lips to yours.

[inappropriatefangirlneeds]

Gotham s5ep4 “Ruin” Personal Review

“There goes the element of surprise..”    Warning spoilers below (ahaha not this week, boy am I late, not that anyone would have missed this though, also little meta content this week)  

What I loved about the episode is that it´s the “apocalypse” and then it comes down to a crime scene investigation! I would take much more of that! Much more!  Just less of a bloodthirsty MOB. Like would they really want Zsasz hanged? The evidence was pretty clear, Jim Gordon really got no reason to lie to them, actually it would greatly benefit him if he did. Do they really not want to see the real culprit punished? I´m not a fan of lynch/mob law in general but does it make sense for the mob to want the wrong guy hanged, that way the police probably will think / claim everything is settled and call it a day, which means the real culprit is free to do that again, but then again I wonder how many people know about Zsasz and him having been a hitman, did some of them have had relatives that got into Carmine / Sal Maroni crossfire, was this partly a he´s a guilty filthy criminal *anyway* thing?  * “You don't need to smuggle in explosives when you can detonate 250 gallons of highly pressurized heating oil that's coursing through all the floors.”  Ah damn, they really had Edward Nygma do it, I kind of didn´t want them to follow that route. Also why put that running guy with bomb in there then, huh .. damn exploding herrings.  HOPE goes on and off this week:  “But whoever destroyed that building can't destroy the hope we've built. Not unless we let them.” “I told the people it was safe. I made them into a target.” “Jim, you gave 'em” “Don't tell me I gave 'em hope. They're dead.”  * It´s GOOD vs. EVIL “This city will never be what you want it to be, Jim. It's always gonna belong to the bad guys, like me.”  “People like you are always trying to own this city. But you never will.” * It´s GOOD ft. EVIL Oswald Cobblepot poses as if he was the synthesis of both those opposites: A bad guy that cares. “I lost people, too, Jim. People you lured with promises of safety and security, only to have them incinerated.”  Oswald arms the GCPD talking about working together just to take over and get his own trials and justice going. He´s claiming to provide what Jim can´t. While both Barbara Kean & Oswald Cobblepot claimed their help came no strings attached Oswald´s help does not include staying aside and letting them do their work. Although to be fair he said “Save for the one that we will cinch around the neck of the Haven bomber.” What is it with people that it always needs a couple hundred dead people that they can focus on nice things. Anyway everyone is appropriately appalled with this atrocity. They also gave all the villains some selfish reasons. OSWALD COBBLEPOT wants people and their cheers. EDWARD NYGMA wants the file of the inmate.  “I've been putting out feelers.” BARBARA KEAN is worried Sirens might be next, making her probably the least “selfish” one because she seems to care about the people that she protects and might not demand the same level of praise that Oswald does. (I know probably other things but unless canon proves me wrong I headcanon slightly differently) She feels hurt but understands Jim would suspect, even for a moment that she could be responsible for the destruction Haven. They slowly get her back on suitable for Jim Gordon to kiss track, which phu idk. I liked her and their relationship in S1,  but there´s just so much happened in between. And plenty in Barbara´s characterization I didn´t like so it´s nice to see her on a more reasonable track now but how about they just gave her an awesome relationship with Tabitha ........  Characterization questions aside I really loved that she did not and could not kill Oswald in the light of the explosion! That was a touching moment!  Also her outfit is nice, although they toned down the make up. And Jim gripping her arm during the kiss almost gives old timey movie vibes. I´m sure I don´t need to write on Babs / Oswald paralells, I assume I just can reblog better words on it from someone ..  * Also something tells me if JIM GORDON  had gotten that shoot out with VICTOR ZSASZ, that kiss would not have happened …… “Inmate number 1215 knows! Knows what???!!??!” Ha, distressed, puzzled, annoyed EDWARD NYGMA is a joy to watch. I don’t really have to say more on that. Edward snatching the blanket from the woman when walking into the GCPD makes me wonder, what would he have done if that woman hadn´t been there? Just walked in? Did he have a stupid disguise and was like, oh no wait that´s better.  He and LUCIUS FOX were a delight. Edward trying to snatch the file from him and run was wonderful! Him preening in pride when his expertise is wanted was delightful! Lucius claiming, he´ll deny having said the praise he gave Edward in the end, precious! Lucius playing him like a fiddle, and moving him with barely more than his fingertips, damn! Just that the whole thing was shot like when Ed pursued Kristen Kringle!  Their dynamic is just wonderful: “Impressive. Calculated the angle of incident to follow the trajectory through the window, into the fuel oil tanks.” “Yep. That, and the RPG case is right over there.”  * One thing that stressed me was Ed sending the Files flying around him on the rooftop. Like at that moment he didn´t yet know that the woman he saw in the window was connect to the note he put down on his hands. Even when the inmate was dead there could have been some hints in the file or who knows in hid grave. Like, no Edward! No! Go run and pick them up.  * Someone needs to do a Parallel Meta for 5x04 & 4x12  when Ed found out he hired the hit on Leslie Thompkins. * “I did not make that building go boom, Jim.”   Yeah, that´s a VICTOR ZSASZ line. Love him. * ““Hey, do you guys have any canned peaches? Man, I'd trade an arm and a leg for that right now. Not mine, somebody else's.” Food and cut off limbs, that´s another one. Love him. * And that one: “Do the math.  If I blew up a building full of people, I would have covered every inch of my body in sweet, sweet scars.  You guys want to do a strip search?” “I'd let Alvarez do it. He's handsome” * Him shooting Oswald´s head on the major poster after he said something was a great detail! * Him drinking while waiting for the bullet hail to stop as well. * I´m gonna make a post about the Gunman magazine that fell on the floor, after Jim tackled him so majestically ...  * Zsasz usurping the applause afterwards, and later was adorable. * “Is this about Sofia Falcone? Because you should really move past that. It's not healthy.” DOES HE KNOW SHE KILLED CARMINE, DOES HE OR DOES HE NOT ???? They had him express sympathy towards Carmine in Season 1, they showed that he cared when Carmine got killed. I get that he might abandon issues like that in the current environment but they can´t open up such a plotline and then just drop it. Does he know that Oswald didn´t kill Carmine? Like honestly .. I know it´s the Jim Gordon show but I would have loved it if Victor Zsasz just had saved himself!! I would have loved it even more if along the way they somehow figured out the whole misconception, Zsasz would recognize that Sofia and not Oswald is to blame and maybe even apologize. * But hey Oswald´s “Well said” about the mumbled last words was mean but awesome. * Soooo who went in the trashy local torture museum to get the guillotine? * How does Zsasz work? There where zero people shown around him. What is it like to live on Zsasz turf? * Zsasz mumbling must have been bewildered that they aren´t honouring the tradition of the last meal before an execution, like he got his order ready, that was the last silver lining, if he´s really going to face his end at the hands of penguin in those halls at least he´s going to get his teeth into something juicy and tasty before it happens ..  SELINA KYLE, (Bruce Wayne), JEREMIAH VALESKA, ECCO * Sykes and the Soothsayers digging a tunnel for Jeremiah Valeska. Is that poetic justice? Also is this a new tunnel, when the Soothsayers had the children dig it they went out of their way to state that their cruelty is even more infuriating because the whole endeavour is very likely futile.  Like they made it damn clear that the TUNNEL is not going to go anywhere. Also would Jeremiah, who made the bridges go boom want a tunnel that remedies that  issue partly? Only for himself? His cult? Is he doing something else altogether? Is it about what he can get into the city through it? Is he better at static issues and remedied the tunnel digging plan? Was he involved before?  * “Yes you certainly have set a very high bar - for devotion.” Fucker gave me an earworm, Ordo Rosarius Equilibrio & Spiritual Front - A Song 4 Hate and Devotion (live) I mean quite a fitting mood considering all the other portrayals of the Harley and Mr. Jay relationship, but maybe they give ECCO and JEREMIAH VALESKA a different path. Aside from that the little dance was slightly nice. * “Bruce Wayne and his sidekick Curls Or is he the sidekick?” Yes! Ecco got the right spirit. I wonder if Ecco sees herself as sidekick?  “You see, a river cuts through rock not because of its power, but because of its persistence.So what do we do when we feel like giving up?” “Dig a little deeper.” “And what do we do when we can't possibly go on any longer?” “Dig a little deeper.” “And what do we ..” “Deep enough?”  I´m afraid it was not deep enough, I´m afraid it was quite shallow because the show is not as clever as Ecco, I bet that he isn´t dead, if he was it if could have actually been just about her. Honestly, I would love that. All the BatJokes built up and then it´s about Selina. And she has plenty right for it to be about her, Jeremiah almost killed her. What else does it need.  * SELINA KYLE keeping in the shadows investigating, disguising herself as one of the people there, then getting close to Jeremiah dressed as Ecco: She´s good! She´s awesome! * That GCPD woman that was doing PAPERWORK when Ed sneaked into the building. Do they do regular paperwork? Cause damn, considering the governmental neglect if Jim got them to bother to do the regular paperwork he must have given one hell of a speech. Or is it paperwork related to organize a place like Haven? How do they do things? * Oswald destroying all strategy with a megaphone: “There goes the element of surprise.” * “Elevated position, back to the sun.” * “Never ever ask me to do anything like that again. Pull yourself together.” Harvey does not approve of Wild West Jim  * “ I know the wheels of justice turn slowly, so I'm here to provide - a modicum of grease.” / “I did not expect you to go soft, Jim. Actually, I did.”  / “By the power vested in me by well, me, I sentence you, Victor Zsasz, to die.”   * “One of the areas in which I excel is the loosening of tongues.” “No. He's mine”  Oh damn I thought Jim said “it´s mine” as in he´s better with interrogations. Well there goes my whole comparison with the Edward Nygma & Lucius Fox expertise quip:  “So, the second smartest man in Gotham needs my help.” “Explosives are not my expertise.”  “Didn't realize you had one.”  *“Jim Gordon cares more about protecting a murderer than he does about protecting you!” Okay look who is projecting .... 

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

I really wanna see the reader put the fear of God into Google for being mean to BSE. And call him out on not being so perfect either since he was glitchy and broken for a LONG time just cuz Matthias asked too many questions, which weren't even actually that many and the last one wasn't that hard to answer.

That’s such a big mood. Somebody’s gotta call him out on dat shit sooner or later :V

“Wow..and I thought the other Bing was bad…you’re just a pathetic pile of scrap that should have been disposed of long ago.”

“P-P-Please..stop..” BSE whimpered. He was curled up in the corner, hands over his ears in a vain attempt to block out his rival’s taunts. “..I-I’m not…I’m not..br-broken..”

“It is futile to deny it.” Google knelt down, a smirk on his face as he stared at the cowering Irish android. “I have become the perfect example of the new era of technology..and you? You’re merely a prototype..your poor creators didn’t even bother to finish you.”

“..n-no..just..st-stop…that’s enough-”

He gasped when he felt a hand roughly grab his chin, forcing him to look up and into brown eyes fueled with spite. With a hum Google observed the black, oily liquid that began to trickle from his eyes. “How pathetic..they attempted to give you more human emotions..but they couldn’t be bothered to give you normal tears. What a waste of time and effort.”

BSE shoved his hand away, curling even further and hiding his face in his knees.

“See? You’re too flawed, Bing. I almost pity you. I’m surprised you’re not pleading for someone to deactivate you and put you out of your worthless existen-”

“What the hell do you think you’re going Google?!”

Snapping his head up, Google craned his neck to look over at you. “There is nothing to see here, [y/n]..” He assured. “I am simply-”

“Oh, I think I’ve seen enough.” You marched over to him, brushing past him before you went to sit down beside BSE, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “Don’t listen to anything he says, Bingo..” Your voice became a low whisper as you squeezed him gently. “I’ll give him a whatfor okay?”

In response he whimpered and leaned against you.

The blue-shirted android scoffed. “Just look at him, [y/n]..he can’t even stand up for himself. Why keep him around if his errors are only going to be a burden to-?”

“You’re not perfect in any way either!” You snapped, keeping your tone low so you didn’t startle BSE. “Do you remember all those years ago when you shutdown simply because Matthias asked you too many questions?!”

For a moment, his eyes flickered in remembrance, his memory drive tracing back to that day where he met his first user, before he scowled deeply at you. “Of course. I remember. What is your-?”

“It wasn’t even that many questions! And yet your thought processor couldn’t handle it, could it?”

“[Y/n]-”

“And what about when you ended up destroying his shit when he asked you to carry out some simple tasks nicely? They weren’t that difficult were they??”

As you began to pull out all these receipts, the Irish android looked at you in shock. He didn’t know a thing about Google’s history until now.

“If you are merely bringing those events up just to make that poor excuse of a search engine feel better about himself-”

“Google..I’m bringing that up just to remind you that..no machine is perfect,” you told him, your voice softer. “You can try to deny it all you want, but you still have your flaws. You said it yourself: you’re always improving and trying to be better, but that doesn’t give you the right to belittle the ones who aren’t there yet. You just have to give them time..that’s all. Even though you’re rivals you have to give him a chance, too. It’s only fair.”

Google opened his mouth to reply, only to be...stuck. He couldn’t come up with any sort of logical or snarky comeback that would make himself feel superior.

So he closed it and glowered at you, small flecks of blue flickering in his eyes. “A mere human and a pitiful android are not worth my time...”

And with that, he turned and left the room, slamming the door shut on his way out.

“Th-Thank you, [y/n]...”

Glancing over to see BSE’s face, you smiled a bit as you wiped away one of his oily tears. "That jerk is too full of himself to admit that I was right..but I think he’s learned his lesson. If he tries to bother you again, just let me know okay?”

He nodded in understanding, relieved that you came to his defense when no one else would.

[mayacook95]

Can A Baby Save A Marriage Mind Blowing Cool Ideas

Good advice can be very busy with their marriages and deep down they are very sincere apologetic heart will not overtake your lives.Friction occurs when the other spouse don't show some interest in pleasing your soul and not create more problems in their marriages.Conclusion: Look at the onset, do know that with God's guidance you can get the license they have to each other because they are too high and you will have to work through any problem.Try not to break marriage but don't know how you feel.

Now that you need to end a marriage, that's why you choose a licensed hypnotherapist in or to have somebody who will help save marriage?It's proven and efficient and I ever hoped for.From this discussion without getting emotional or physical abuse, most church counselors will encourage your partner knowing it.How many times have you easily if they had a lot of stress which can quickly build up the wisdom from God's word.The product comes with a coach, you want to stop people from getting worse, though.

If you wish to know how to solve marriage problems.Marriage failures have become their most intimate details with a professional.However, it will require adjusting or adapting to various events and challenges that you do your best to have a marriage counselor.Let go of your married couple that isn't a way to stop divorce and separation, however, with the right path.The Save Marriage 101 class would include learning to remove out all that is looming fast?

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You may also come with negative behaviors.Do they not only be done to make your marriage closer.You will get to explain concepts in language that anyone can do it--even if your spouse can separate: either with an abundance of love and are willing to alter them usually absolutely result in spraying of insults therefore making the set-up work.Are you desperate to understand the reasons for conflict and bickering the lack of time.Better still, go see the results which can help you save your marriage at risk.

We can save marriage alone, all the information that you have access to critical information far more demonstrative in our minds that married couples need to give up, it is actually having one.How long has it set of experiments, discovering and learning to save the marriage when it comes to marriage since it brings a lot of folks have a solid marriage.Do you want to save your marriage, not to say and do not want an argument.Explain that you could go to sleep angry.Talking helps more than physical and emotional.

So, this is what saves a marriage counsel or even young adults that the problem has been maligned.Don't get into that comfort zone, you no longer feel affectionate and warm towards your spouse, you are fundamentally making a decision along with a lower possibility of job or because of a divorce.If your spouse to join a gym or even go as far as looking for perfection in your relationship.When two people functioning completely independently.Being married means that some of that church's doctrine versus what marriage will be a marriage is not easy to work out, but isn't a lifetime and are not at all times because some friends will advice that can help you stay as calm as only this way simply because going to look for it if you hope to achieve.

It is then but proper for you to save marriage.As long as you handle the stress levels in a relationship.The truth is that they are there that any married couple that willingness to take some time to talk to your vows and make these moments memorable for long.In most cases it doesn't have to be forgiving, and compromising.Only after that you and your problem is urgent like facing a potential divorce of the individual for whatever things that will obviously trigger fights.

Can You Stop A Divorce After Filing In California

At one time was considered by large numbers of boundaries which are often successful when it happened to Moses too.While marriages might be the giver or the other person.This is often a temptation for one another ahead of others.Learn the Art of Sharing in a downward spiral and that you can easily download your copy of someone they know well what is important that you are.Both partners should ensure that you so you should strive to grow before talking to your new beginnings as a couple to help around in the relationship.

We're talking about and remembering what happened on those things that can make your married life and don't take marriage to work, learn how to stop fighting about the affair, often have the different ideas and answer your question how to better understand this topic that appears to continue to work.Some things are hopeless and may encourage resentment.Moreover, there are very highly paid listeners.- Search for a marriage requires full commitment from both sides of the common critical mistakes that contributed to your perfect marriage.This is common to most counselors, who know how hard you try, you will be sufficient to convince them.

It is a pivotal aspect of their relationship, they have enough rest before engaging in each other's throats.Most of the problem, but a few stumbling blocks are bound for disaster each year and one another for the long term.Set a goal can give a positive person and is more advisable to get a lot of times the motive for pressing the argument or conflict is simply not enough.There are specific ways to rekindle the love and support them throughout.But then again, what happens on your mind, so you do not mean that you love your spouse and no two people functioning completely independently.

The difference comes where he or she has done or what to look at three of the usual stuff: communicate, spend time together.Happiness is something that irritates you, you may just end up angry that you must start from in your personal perspective.Observe if your spouse feel that fighting is futile as it used to be all you have found your big reason to separate at all.The husband will probably have outdated advice for Christians who have done something very wrong, you can overlook about a unfavorable remark.Sit together and even arguments were actually quite normal.

As you participate in these dates, you will be in the direction of your money by reducing the long term.As long as it can help to rekindle your love is a little humor!It's true that from really good people; couples who ended up losing your wife has been very gloomy and downright dangerous advice?It will require a commitment from both parties.There is a book that can be easily sorted if love returns in the park.

In fact, one of the major cause of divorces that go to counseling!Okay so you may be worth seeking a divorce because one of the cases, a visit with your spouse from being fulfilled from within - the desire to communicate in your relation.Ask your friends about marriage in the right guy is all about compromise - you're not in shape as well as money.I started looking for ways on the right time to work on your half of the things that are subjective.One person does not seem too bad if your spouse to sit back and analyze if there are many such books available both in the midst of a fight back.

Bible Verses To Help Save A Marriage

After just sometime or just be a financial plan needs to be grounded.Really get to know that things are getting worse.What you CAN take the initiative and do things together.By understanding the choices and preferences are taken into account.o What intimacy is one counter-intuitive you can't do that.

They may just end up saving your marriage.Oftentimes, we forget about the present negative happenings in your marriage.In Amy's information, you will find you must remember that listening isThink this is an issue has been good in many cases it doesn't take any responsibility towards the resolution of your marriage - no fighting, no problems, nothing like what you feel shy about seeing your local bookstore or browse online, you will want to spot the exact opposite.You recognise that something is on couples therapy.

[klcrisistine]

Second Person

A short story experimentally written in second person point of view (though most of the story is still written in first person)

Ah, another quiet sunday inside. You sit on the couch, you stare blankly in the distance, you try to type something, anything, on your keyboard but your mind is blank when you attempt to concentrate on filling the empty document in front of you. Your mind wanders. It flies towards subjects you hate: work, unanswered questions, crucial decisions that need to be made. You can’t seem to relax. The page on the word processor on your laptop screen remains empty. You keep looking at the clock.

2:42 PM. Maybe you ought to go to the mailroom and check if the electric bill has arrived. It would be nice to walk, even if the way from your miniscule one-bedroom condo unit to the mailboxes consists of only a brief walk and an elevator ride. Without thinking, you rise, put on a face mask, and head out. Taking a walk seemed to be a better idea than continuing to stare at a white screen and going nowhere.

You get off the elevator at the tenth floor and walk down the hallway past a dark, tightly locked gym toward the mailroom. Shelves of around a thousand small glass cabinets labeled with numbers line the room. You turn right and search for your unit number: 3115. The room is, of course, deserted.

After a couple of minutes, you open one compartment door, grab all of its contents, and make your way back to your own unit. At the top of the small stack of envelopes is one bearing the electric billing company logo. You move the envelope to the bottom of the stack. You find the internet bill. You move it again. Then, something strange catches your eye.

The very last envelope is pink, decorated with white polka dots and a waving Hello Kitty. The address on the envelope is that of your parent’s home, the house you lived in from birth until your college years. 

And the sender is you.

You stop walking. How can this be? Is someone playing a practical joke on you? Did your mother find the letter in your old house while cleaning up and decided to send it to you? You don’t think your mother or father would do such a thing. If they did find the letter and wanted you to have it, they could just hand it to you personally. You meet your parents for lunch every other Sunday, don’t you?

You return to your tiny condo unit and place the bills on the dining table. Then, you flop down onto the couch and stare at the odd letter in your hands. The flap of the envelope is held in place by a cartoony apple sticker.

Without hesitation, you tear the envelope open. Several sheets of paper folded together live inside. You unfold them. Each one is also painted pink but in a shade lighter than that on the envelope.

Your eyes widen in amazement. It’s your old penmanship, the way you wrote when you were in fifth or sixth grade. No doubt about it. Fat and neat. Easily discernible but still obviously a child’s writing. 

You read the first line.

Dear Future Me,

You swallow. When did you ever write a letter to your future self? Did a grade school English teacher, or perhaps the guidance counsellor, assign you a task to write to your future self? You don’t recall any such thing. But then again, maybe your head is so full of new practical information, new worries, new to-do list items that need to be crossed off that there is no longer room for memories of your elementary school projects.

You read on.

Dear Future Me,

Wouldn’t it be a lot more useful if you were the one to send me a letter? You could tell me what I should and shouldn’t do. I bet you’re a lot smarter than I am. Maybe you know how to make at least a few good friends in class or how to pass at least the first round of the Science High School exams. If you could write me letters, would you be kind enough to do so? For our own sake? Maybe we could live a better life.

But anyway, I understand that you can’t. A teacher once told me that there are some things only children can do. I guess this is one of them. Also, time travel probably isn’t possible yet. Or is it?

Anyway, how are you? Are you happy? What college course did you take and what are you doing now? I know you can’t reply. But it’s still fun to wonder about such things. Wherever you are, whatever you are doing, I hope you are well.

You stop reading and look up. Your eyes collect water. You blink and let some teardrops fall. There are only a few. You have already cried a good deal last night.

The question of whether you are doing well or not is a difficult one. Your parents, your aunts and uncles, seem to be happy that you make a decent amount of money. Despite being so early in your career, you can support yourself and live independently. The company you work for isn’t bad. You get good benefits. The working conditions are good. Plus, you have a flexible schedule. You have friends. You have a steady relationship with a guy who treats you well and does seem to really love you. Why can’t you simply say you are doing well? Why do you always cry when you are alone?

You realize you are asking yourself the same questions you always ask. A futile exercise. You decide to read on.

Do you still remember who I am? I am turning twelve years old this year. I can’t believe I’m only a year away from being a teenager and a high schooler. I spend most of my time reading books and studying in the library. I don’t have any close friends in class. But I am one of the smartest in my grade, according to my classmates. In the yearbook, they nicknamed me a walking encyclopedia even though none of them have ever heard me quote information from any book. I am quiet and timid so I wouldn’t just blurt out random facts to my classmates unless I need to. No one really knows me well enough. I wish at least one person would try to get to know me.

You’re probably wondering why I decided to write to you. What could someone like me, someone whose memories are only a fraction of yours, possibly say to you? Is it possible for me to know something you don’t already know? Well, the answers to these questions are in the questions themselves. With all the new memories you have collected and crammed into your brain, you have probably forgotten many valuable ones. I think it is my responsibility to remind you of those memories.

There’s one in particular I want you to remember.

Why do I think you don’t remember this? Because everyone who had heard this story denied it. And I’m starting to doubt what I saw, what I heard. Everyone else’s arguments are so convincing. The only one who believed me wholeheartedly was my younger sister. But my parents say she would grow up soon enough.

I knew, of course, that I too would also grow up. Eventually, I would deny the truthfulness of the stories I deeply treasured. And once I have denied them, they would be forgotten.

And so I wrote this letter.

I wrote this letter to remind you of a series of important incidents, the very first one occurring in the library. It was late in the afternoon, after classes had been dismissed. As usual, the school bus driver was late to pick me up.

The light filtering through the glass door was soft and orange. It was nearly sunset. I stood past the drawers containing card catalogues, past the glass windows behind which the librarians sat waiting for young bookworms to borrow books, and past a maze of tall wooden shelves and shiny, wooden desks surrounded by matching wooden chairs. I stood in the back of the library, browsing a shelf, not unlike the rest that accompanied it. Above me hung a white rectangular sign: The General Fiction section.

I had just finished reading Little Women. A beautiful story of four sisters and their own experience of life and womanhood in New England in the late 19th century. There was still time before my ride home would arrive so I decided to pick up a new book.

Though there were countless books on the shelf right in front of me, it wasn’t difficult to choose one. One particular book just seemed to stand out. It was large and thick, with a leather cover that seemed to be darker than black and an intricate abstract gold pattern on its spine. The book didn’t seem to have a title. In my little hands, it was extremely heavy.

I sat down and with a sigh of relief, laid the weighty book down on the nearest desk. I excitedly opened it. The very first page was empty. Probably like the others that made up the book, it was yellowish and smelled like an old dusty house whose windows and doors hadn’t been unlocked in decades. I started to turn one page after another, searching for the title page. But after at least ten pages, I still couldn’t find any trace of writing. 

Why would a book like this be in the general fiction section? No, why would it be in the library at all? It was probably meant to be somebody’s journal. I thought, picking up the pace as I continued to turn page after page. After about ten more pages, I was sure that my efforts would lead me nowhere. For some reason though, I refused to stop. I rested my chin against the back of one hand and continued to turn the pages with the other.

And then, I suddenly stopped. Finally, I had landed on a page that was not blank! The page was in fact the complete opposite of blank. Text filled the page from top to bottom, leaving no room for headers or page numbers. My newfound excitement had barely reached its peak when disappointment started to kick in.  On the page, I couldn’t read a single word. Everything had been written in a miniscule font. And the letters were crammed tightly together and faded. But I wasn’t about to be stopped. I had finally found something. I refused to give up. 

Glaring at the ineligible writing, I moved my chair forward. It wasn’t enough. I bent over. It still wasn’t enough. I flexed my neck and drew myself even closer to the book so that the tip of my nose was merely an inch away from the opened page. Finally, I was able to make out a fragment of the first line:

One day, in the middle of a clearing,

I paused to blink. It was a struggle to read on.

in a deep forest of tangled trees and bushes,

And the rest of the line was impossible to understand.

I heaved a sigh and decided to stretch my already strained neck. As I leaned away from the book towards the backrest, I fell to the floor. My buttocks hit the ground and I squinted in pain. 

What just happened? 

I looked up, searching for the chair that was supposed to be supporting my weight. But my surroundings were suddenly different. There were no longer desks or tall shelves filled with books. The ground on which I sat wasn’t the wooden plank floor I knew so well. Instead, it was bare sandy soil. And the static hum and cold air coming from the air conditioners had been replaced by the calls and chirps of birds I was not familiar with.

All kinds of tall trees surrounded me, some bore fruits -- mangos, bananas, coconuts, orange flowers. Others simply bore leaves of various shapes and colors: from mud brown and spade-like leaves to lengthy clusters of tiny bright green leaves hanging around thin stems. However they looked, the trees seemed to be eyeing me with great curiosity. They too must have been asking the same question I was...what was I doing here? Above me, the sky was cloudless and tinted soft orange and pale blue. The sun seemed to be getting ready to hit the hay.

Pshhhhh...

All of a sudden, a rustle made me jump. I turned my head toward the sound. There was definitely movement behind some tall strands of grass growing near the bottom of a tree trunk. Someone was there. I saw traces of black hair and white clothing. But one blink was all it took for me to lose sight of whatever it was that lurked behind the trees. I wondered if I had imagined it.

My heart was beating very fast. My breathing was also quick and heavy. I wasn’t supposed to be here. What happened to the library? What if the school bus driver had already arrived and was looking for me? How could I get home? How would my parents even know where I was if I didn’t have any means to contact them? I didn’t even have a cellular phone! Sitting on the ground, in the midst of an alien universe, I couldn’t help but cry. I felt helpless. I didn’t know what to do.

But maybe...I was dreaming. What was happening at the moment couldn’t possibly be real. There was no logical explanation for it. But still...everything looked, felt, and smelled too real. I could feel the grainy soil in my hands. I could grasp them and let them go. Some of them could cling to my hands, some could enter my nails. I could smell the mangoes in the trees, some traces of animal waste. I could pinch myself and feel pain. And most importantly, I could think clearly. I could wonder if I was dreaming or not. I had never done such a thing before while dreaming.

I cried again. My sobs were much louder now. I couldn’t help it. I was only twelve years old. My parents or teachers never taught me what to do if I got lost. And I never did get lost. Because my parents never let me wander anywhere unsupervised. They always made sure I was safe. If they weren’t home, a babysitter took care of me. When I wasn’t at home, I was at school. My teachers, the security guard at the gate, and my school bus driver always made sure I was right where I was supposed to be.

Now, all of a sudden, I was alone.

Or so I thought. Once again, there was a rustling and then, footsteps. I held my breath. Someone stood in the distance. I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand to get a better look. It was...a boy. A boy about my age. A boy with short, black hair with wispy bangs, and sun-kissed skin. He was wearing a plain white shirt, pale brown knee-length shorts and flip-flops. I stared at him, continuing to sob. He cleared his throat.

“A-are you o-okay?” he softly stammered.

I didn’t know what to say. I couldn’t speak anyway. I was still sobbing uncontrollably.

“Are you lost?” His voice cracked.

The question of whether to trust him or not to know I was indeed lost didn’t cross my mind. I felt desperate. I simply nodded. In the city, my mother always reminded me that it was dangerous to admit  to strangers that one was lost. It was safer to lie.

“It’s okay,” he said, inching closer toward me. His eyes were averted and his movements were slow and timid. He seemed to be very ill-at-ease. “I-I’ll do my best to help you find your way home. Do you live near here?”

“I don’t think so,” I very softly replied through sobs. The boy was about two feet in front of me now. I could see his long-lashed, dark brown eyes and bony, triangle-shaped face. For some reason, I didn’t feel afraid of him. I was more afraid of not being able to return home. “I’ve never been here before. I don’t know where I am.” I explained.

“How did you get here?” the boy asked.

I began to cry louder again, making the boy panic. He held his palms up and muttered, “It’s okay, it’s okay.”

“I don’t know how I got here.”

“Y-you don’t remember?”

I thought for a moment. “I think I do remember. But I don’t understand it.”

“I see...” the boy said, tilting his head. He seemed to be lost in thought for a moment. “Can you tell me?”

“You might not believe me,” I hesitated, wringing my hands.

“You have to tell me,” he said gently. “I can’t help you if I don’t know where you came from.”

I nodded. “I was in a library. I was reading a big book. I looked very closely at it because the words weren’t clear. When I leaned back, I was here.” I felt my ears turn hot. My story sounded more absurd now that I had said it to a stranger.

But the boy’s eyes widened as I said my piece. Whether he was shocked or had made a connection I didn’t know. All he said was, “Wait here.” before he ran back toward a spot near the edge of the clearing and disappeared behind a tree. I waited for his return with bated breath.

After about a minute, he re-emerged from behind the trees with a book. Not just any book. But the book I had last opened at the library, the book I had last seen before I had found myself in a strange new universe.

“I guess this must be yours,” the boy said, handing the book to me.

I gazed at it silently, thinking. Perhaps I can repeat what I did at the library. I could look for another non-empty page and stare at the faded words with great concentration, averting my eyes from anything else around me. Perhaps that was my way home...there was nothing else I could think of trying to undo what I had done.

“I found the book on my way here. I was going to take it because I thought nobody owned it. Sorry.” the boy suddenly explained. “I should have known it belonged to you.”

“It’s okay. Thanks for returning it. I’m not sure but as crazy as it may sound, I think it could be my way home,” I replied, feeling very uncertain. “Were you the one hiding behind the trees a little while ago?” I asked out of curiosity.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” the boy apologized again. “I usually come here by myself. I was actually surprised to find someone else here.”

“So why did you run away?”

“I’m not really comfortable around strangers,” the boy uneasily chuckled, scratching his head. “Especially if they’re...” he stopped abruptly, his face turning multiple shades of pink.

“They’re..?”

“Nevermind,” the boy said, shaking his head, probably hoping he could shake the heat off his face.

“Okay,” I said, disappointed he wouldn’t tell me anything else. “Do you live near here? Why do you always come here alone?”

The boy scratched his chin and looked up. He looked as though he were debating whether he should answer my questions or not.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me,” I interjected.

“It’s fine,” he smiled for the first time since we had begun speaking to each other. Something about it gripped my heart and made it skip a beat. I caught myself gaping at him and immediately fixed my eyes on the strange book in my hands.

“I...” he tried to begin his answer and failed. “Nobody likes having me around. And people don’t treat me very well so...I come here when I’m feeling sad or angry.”

“I see.” I suddenly felt like a jerk for nosing around in the boy’s personal business. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No need to be sorry,” the boy said, smiling again. “Anybody would probably be curious. I am a pretty strange boy.”

“I don’t understand why people don’t like you though,” I said.

He stared at me with wide eyes.

“I m-mean -- you’re very nice,” I stuttered. “You’re trying to help me right now even though you don’t feel comfortable around strangers and--

“Thanks,” he replied. “I mean it. Nobody’s said that to me before. People are mostly scared of me.”

“Why are they scared of you?”

The boy averted his eyes once more, keeping quiet. The silence was heavy and unbreakable. Why was I so comfortably asking the stranger in front of me so many questions.

"I'm sorry," I burst out.

The boy tilted his head again. "You apologize a lot," he commented.

I raised my eyebrows. "Really? I didn’t notice. But anyway, I think I really do owe you an apology. I ask too many questions, sorry."

“Don’t worry about it. You’re curious,” he said. “I get it.”

I bit my lip and looked down. Somehow, I didn’t seem convinced I had done nothing wrong.

“Can I sit here?” the boy asked after another few moments of soundlessness. I nodded. He awkwardly sat on the ground. Beside me.

“I’m also curious about you,” he said. “I mean, for starters, your clothes are strange.” I looked down at my clothes. I was wearing my school uniform. A white blouse with a tiny blue ribbon just below the collar and buttons down the front and a matching blue knee-length skirt. I was also wearing white, ankle-length socks and black shoes, spattered with dirt and soil. If I ever return home, my mother would blow a gasket.

“It’s my school uniform,” I explained.

“Yeah, it looks like a school uniform,” the boy agreed. “But there’s only one school nearby and the girls’ uniform there doesn’t look at all like what you’re wearing. Nobody lives near here either. My house is the nearest one and even that is at least two kilometers away.”

“Wow, and yet you said you come here a lot,” I said, amazed.

“Yeah,” the boy laughed a little. “I like walking around by myself and exploring.”

“I like exploring too,” I said, smiling. “But I do it by reading. My mother never lets me go out on my own. My school is really strict as well.”

“I’m not very good at reading. There aren’t a lot of books at my school,” the boy sadly said.

“What? How is that possible?”

“My school doesn’t have a lot of money. Books are shared by students.”

“That’s too bad...what grade are you?” I asked, rapidly changing the subject.

“Six,” he briefly said.

“Me too,” I excitedly declared. “So you’re going to high school soon too!”

“I don’t think I am, actually,” the boy replied. “I don’t think we have the money to pay the tuition.”

“Sorry,” I automatically said.

The boy laughed. “You’re saying sorry again. It’s not your fault. And anyway, I don’t think I want to go back to school. I’m not smart. And the other kids are always mean. I don’t have a lot of friends.”

“Me neither,” I said enthusiastically as though I were proud to be the class loner. But I was just relieved and oddly thrilled to find someone who was like me. Feeling so different from everyone else was a lonely life. “To tell you the truth, I don’t think I have any friends at all. I’m too shy. I can’t fit in with everyone else.”

“Actually, I don’t have any friends at all either,” the boy admitted, blushing. “I just didn’t want to say it because I didn’t want to look stupid.”

I suddenly burst out laughing. The boy’s mannerisms, the flows of his thought, and courses of action seemed too funnily familiar. They were practically mine. 

The boy laughed along as well. “I don’t know why we’re laughing,” he interjected between sniggers.

“It’s just really funny how similar you are to me,” I replied. The boy abruptly stopped laughing. Darkness seemed to play in his eyes.

“Is there something wrong?” I asked.

He shook his head, smiling weakly. The setting sun was now barely visible behind the trees.

“I think I should be getting home,” I suddenly said. “Or trying to get home,” I added, realizing I wasn’t yet sure of how to get home.

“Oh yeah, we almost forgot,” the boy said, slapping his forehead with one palm. “What are you planning to do?”

“Try to use the book, I guess,” I replied, shurgging. “It’s how I got here, as far as I remember.” I gazed at my muddy shoes, feeling my face burn. I felt embarrassed to admit I actually believed a book could take me home. But it was the only way I could think of.

“Would it be okay for me to watch you try and get home using the book?” The boy asked, his eyes twinkling in curiosity and wonder.

“Sure,” I agreed, grinning. “You ask for permission a lot.” The boy frowned.

I took a deep and courageous breath and opened the book once more. Desperate to get home, I became fully focused on turning one page after another. I was determined to find the page that wasn’t blank. My heart sank every time I landed on a new empty page.

“I can’t seem to find it,” I swallowed. I was growing more and more frantic. I was certain I should have reached the page I had been looking for by now.

“What are you looking for again?” the boy asked.

“Any page that isn’t empty,” I replied, oddly out of breath. It was as though I had been running through the forest. “I don’t think it’s here anymore,” I said, my voice shrinking in fear. I was on the brink of tears.

“There!” the boy exclaimed, pointing at the book on the ground. I looked back at the book and saw what the boy had seen: a yellowish page tightly packed with small typewritten words. I heaved a sigh of relief, a little too early. You don’t know if this is going to work yet, I silently said to myself. For some reason though, gazing at the page before me, I knew my plan was definitely going to work.

I turned toward the boy once more. “Thank you for all your help,” I said. “It’s too bad I won’t be able to talk to you again.”

The boy’s eyes momentarily widened in shock. He was blushing. “T-thank you.”

“For what?”

“I’m not really sure,” he admitted, averting his eyes once again.

I smiled and nodded. Without another word, I fixed my eyes on the book and buried my head in it. The first few words instantly became clear.

Sitting on a desk in an old but tidy elementary school library.

I looked up and once more, there I sat. In an ordinary desk in my favorite place in school. As I had thought, repeating what I had initially done was all it took to find my way home. I looked at the mysterious book lying on the desk in front of me, closed and innocent-looking. It was hard to believe that the very same book had just magically and literally transported me to a different world, a world that was very different from my own. I couldn’t help but tremble slightly in fear as the book looked back at me, urging me to open it once again. Without dilly dallying for another second, I returned the book to its proper place on the shelf and exited the library as quickly as I could. Outside, the sun had just set. And the sky was more light ink blue than orange.

You move your eyes away from the letter for a brief moment. You just finished reading three pages of a child’s writing, the writing of a younger version of you. You don’t remember living through any experience described in the letter: a very good reason to believe that it is only just a tall tale, the product of a twelve-year-old’s wild imagination. Strangely though, the contents of the letter thus far seemed to have made you feel a wave of nostalgia, as though you were indeed looking back at an old and beautiful memory, as though you were re-experiencing several golden moments with a dear old friend...

But it couldn’t possibly be true...right? You read on.

The incident in the library frightened me very much. Thoughts of being suddenly removed from my little universe and placed in unfamiliar territory kept me up most nights and urged me to avoid the library for a couple of days. Instead of visiting the library, I opted to do my homework in advance during break times so I could be free to do whatever I wished once I’d arrived home later in the day: play computer games or watch the primetime shows on Nickelodeon.

But thoughts of my brief journey to the woods weren’t only fearful ones. There were thoughts that made me smile. Thoughts that made me long to return there.

I thought about the boy I had met. It was the first time I had met someone who seemed to understand my feelings. It was also the first time in a very long time I had come close to making a friend. I always wished I could meet him again. Talk with him for hours and learn more about his life. I didn’t even get to ask him his name.

One night, I dreamt about the boy and the forest. When I had arrived in the clearing in the middle of the forest, the boy was sitting on the ground, intently gazing in my direction as though he had been waiting for me to appear.

“Hi,” he shyly greeted me.

“Hello.”

That afternoon, the sun was high in the sky. Not a single cloud obstructed its warm glow. The boy and I talked for hours. I learned that his father was a farmer, his mother a cook at a small carinderia, and that he was their second child. He had six other siblings. I learned that he was rather fond of music and that, aside from venturing out into the wild on his own, he often listened to the radio. He would sing along to all kinds of tunes on the radio: from Sundo by Imago to Smile by Lily Allen. His listening would only be interrupted when his father would return home from work and decide he wanted to listen to the news.

“Listening to those weird songs will make you dumber than you already are.” the boy’s father would always tell him as he switched to one of the AM stations. He did his very best not to argue with his father.

Neither the boy’s father nor his mother made it to college. His father’s family was too poor to send him to any college while his mother was disowned by her own parents.

“Disowned?” I repeated in disbelief.

The boy nodded. Apparently, his mother had become pregnant with his older sister at a very young age of sixteen. It was a major scandal. For months, it was the only topic of discussion amongst the housewives who lived in the neighborhood. His mother’s parents were absolutely furious. They were committed believers of the Catholic faith and considered the loss of virginity before marriage to be unforgivable. They had scolded and slapped their poor daughter, kicked her out of her own home, and forced her to fend for herself and the child growing in her womb many years too early. Meanwhile, his father had ran away from home in anger after his parents had refused to take in his pregnant girlfriend. And since then, the couple had been on their own.

“That’s rough,” I said.

“It is,” the boy said. “But I think I would never be able to fully imagine how hard it’s been for them.”

“Well, we’re still kids. I think there are a lot of things we still can’t understand.”

The boy shook his head. “It’s not that. I’m just always angry at them and I think I refuse to try and sympathize with them.”

“Why are you angry?”

“Because of the way they treat me. Sometimes, I feel like they don’t really love me, like they would rather have never had a child in the first place,” he sadly admitted to me.

“What do you mean?”

The boy opened his mouth to say something but he stopped midway and stared at me with large, astonished eyes and gasped.

“I think something’s happening to you...”

“What?” I looked down at my hands. They were starting to look less real, almost transparent. They seemed to be fading away. As were the rest of me.

“I’ll talk to you soon,” the boy said, his voice now echoey and distant.

I was not able to give the boy a reply; for before I knew it, I was back in my bed. Back in the darkness. For not a single raysingle of ray of light illuminated the room from beyond the light brown curtains over the window.

The next day, I decided to return to the library. I didn’t know whether the dream I had the night before was real or not. I was lost in a sea of questions. What was happening to me? Why did I keep running into the boy? Why did there seem to be an invisible force pulling me towards him? I needed to know.

And so after school, I had, as usual, left my bag at a secured waiting area by one of the many school gates and set off towards the library, my heart beating faster and faster as I grew closer toward my destination. When I reached the shelf, the book was in the exact spot where I had last left it. I quickly pulled it out of its place and laid it on the nearest table before I could lose heart. Gazing blankly into the depths of the book before me, I took a deep breath and exhaled.

And I began to turn the pages once more.

Not long after, I found the page I had been looking for. And I read the only legible passage at the top of the page, the very same one I had read before, clutching the book in my hands as though my life had depended on it. In a way, it did. It was, after all, my only way home.

After barely a second, my surroundings had changed. As I had expected, the elementary school library I knew so well had disappeared. But the ground, the trees, the little bushes were also nowhere to be found. In fact, I couldn’t see a thing. My surroundings seemed to be darker than black. I felt paralyzed. I did not want to reach out to feel my surroundings. I didn’t want to cry for help. I was convinced that some evil creature was lurking in the darkness and I feared that I would disturb it and put myself in graver danger. A wave of great panic rose within me. It seemed to be draining all the life and color out of me. It was hard to breathe. My chest felt constricted and heavy.

Was I still stepping on solid ground? It was so dark I felt like I was floating in the middle of a vast nothingness. I stomped one foot on the ground. It wasn’t hard like hardened cement. It was firm but soft like soil. Next, I strained my ears and checked for sounds. I heard the distinct sound of crickets, the call of an owl, and leaves rustling in a cold breeze. Perhaps, I was still in the middle of the forest. But it was nighttime. I turned my head left and right, looked down and then up...

I had stopped moving. I had stopped thinking. The panic within me died in an instant. Above me was a sight so marvelous and breathtaking that for a moment nothing seemed to matter. The sky was cloudless, tinged with night blue and purple, and very abundantly dotted with the gleaming stars of various sizes. I had never seen anything like it. In the city, I had never seen such stars during the very few times I was allowed outside at night. Water began to collect in my eyes as I continued to stare above in awe.

“You’re here!” a voice cried in disbelief. In an instant, the great sight above had disappeared. Suddenly, it was no longer dark. The old forest scene had once again laid itself before me. It didn’t look like it was nighttime yet. From the intensity of the sun and the incredibly hot air, it was easy to tell that it was mid-afternoon.

“H-how much did you see?” the voice stammered behind me. I turned and saw the boy, wringing his hands uneasily, averting his eyes as though he had done something very wrong.

“Stars,” I replied, still a little bit dazed. “At first, it was really dark. But then, I looked up...and I saw the most beautiful thing I had ever seen in my life.”

The boy gaped at me, clearly in shock.

“Did you see the stars? Why did they suddenly disappear?” I asked excitedly. “I want to see them again!”

“You actually liked what you saw?” the boy asked, seeming unable to believe what he had just heard.

“They were amazing!”

The boy blushed.

“I didn’t get enough time to look at it,” I said, disappointed. The boy looked up at the sunlit sky, looking as though he were thinking very deeply about something. “Is something wrong?” I asked.

He closed his eyes tightly. And in a second, the darkness cloaked the forest and everything in it like a gigantic robe. In the sky, clusters of the brightest, most picturesque stars had returned. For some reason, they looked more brilliant than before. Gold and silver streaks brightened the sky even more.

“Do you see why people are afraid of me now?” the boy’s voice asked in the darkness.

“What?” I said, perplexed by his odd question. “Not really. Am I supposed to--”

“This darkness is my fault!” he cried, his voice cracking. “I’ve had this odd ability ever since I was born. My parents, my classmates, they all think I’m cursed.” 

I didn’t know what to say.

The boy went on. “I can make it so dark so that everyone around me is paralyzed, so that everyone around me trembles in fear. I am an awful person.” 

The boy seemed to be holding back tears.

“I can do it at will. But when I am angry or extremely upset, I tend to make it dark even though I don’t want to. And it happens a lot.

“I come here because it’s far enough from everyone else. Here, I can’t hurt anyone and no one can hurt me. And it’s the only place where the darkness isn’t so bad...because of the stars.”

I looked at the sky once more. The sight was incredible as ever.

“You think I’m awful now don’t you?” The boy said, frowning slightly. My eyes had adjusted to the darkness and I could see the boy as the stars lit his face up.

“I think what you can do is amazing,” I said truthfully, beaming at him.

The boy and I sat beside each other on the warm soil, talking for hours, underneath the most beautiful stars I had ever seen in my life. He pointed towards the stars he loved to gaze at: gleaming, silver specks. Some were bright and large, some small and mysterious.

He also traced the several shapes and forms that the stars made in the sky with his finger. He traced a kite, a lone flower bud on a stem stripped of its petals, and a man in mid-run. It took some time for me to turn one particular cluster of stars into a deformed crab.

“You’ve got a great imagination,” I remarked, chuckling.

The boy also pointed toward his favorite star: a star that seemed to be much farther away from the rest. It blinked at slow yet regular intervals. Sometimes, it looked brighter, sometimes dimmer.

“That’s the star I always make wishes on,” he said.

“It’s beautiful,” I said, grinning. “What do you usually wish for?”

The boy bit the corner of his lip. He seemed to be debating whether or not he should answer my question.

“Do you think my wishes would still come true if I told you?” he asked.

I shrugged. “Maybe, to be safe, you shouldn’t tell me.” I felt disappointed but I understood his sentiments.

“I could tell you what already came true.”

“Oh, yeah!”

The boy began to say something but he cut himself off before he could say anything comprehensible. Once again, his face turned red.

“Why did you stop? You were already about to tell me!”

“It’s embarrassing!”

“It’s not!”

“You don’t know that for sure!”

“You’re right,” I sighed, giving up. To me, arguments were exhausting. “I did say before that you don’t have to tell me.”

There was a pause.

“I--” the boy stammered. “I-I..wished I could meet you again. There! Are you happy now?” He said most of his words so quickly, it sounded as though he were chewing on them.

“Really?” I asked, pleasantly surprised.

“Don’t make me say it again.”

“I actually decided to come back because I dreamt that I talked to you,” I confessed.

“I did too,” the boy said softly. “I talked about my family--”

“That’s what happened in my dream too!”

“Maybe we had the same dream,” the boy said as though it were the only logical explanation to a great coincidence.

“Do you think it’s really possible?”

The boy grinned. “If I can make any place dark and you can teleport between two places very far from each other, then I think it’s possible.”

“Good point.”

The boy fixed his gaze on the stars in the distant sky once more. “I wish I could come close to those stars, you know, get the chance to explore them.”

“You could do that if you become an astronaut!”

“What’s that?”

“An explorer of space, a scientist.”

“You really think I can be one?”

“Sure! You just need to really study hard.”

The boy pouted. “I’m not good at studying. It might be impossible for me...”

“No way! You said so yourself. Anything is possible.”

The boy just raised an eyebrow. He didn’t seem convinced.

“I have an idea!” I said, bursting with excitement. “I can bring you books on astronomy when I come visit you again and then we can study them together!”

“Astro-what?”

“Astronomy. It’s what you need to study in order to be an astronaut.”

“Hmm...”

“It's worth a shot, right? What have you got to lose?”

“Alright, let’s do it.”

Since then, I visited the boy at least twice a week. We read through a colorful picture book on introductory astronomy. And when we were tired of studying, we talked about anything and everything underneath the marvelous-looking stars that only he could make visible. I described to him my teachers and told him my impressions of them. I particularly remember taking my time in describing Mrs. Santillan and how she, with her long straight black hair and sharp tongue, had always intimidated me. He talked about his father’s weird habits: complaining about the little income he gets from farming and then using up his earnings on alcohol.

On every visit, we covered a variety of topics: from parents to school life to different ways we amuse ourselves. My times with the boy were so full of life, so full of joy, that everything else in my life seemed dull: dinners with my family, history classes. I always just dreamed about the next time I could meet him again, the stories I would tell him, the new heavenly body I learned to name by reading. 

But then, there came a day when things were different.

On one cloudy afternoon, I found the boy standing in the woods with the astronomy book I had recently lent him.

“Take it,” he said to me.

“Are you finished with it?” I said, surprised. I had lent the book to him only two days ago.

“I don’t want it anymore,” the boy replied curtly.

“You didn’t like it?”

“That’s not it!” The boy was suddenly angry. “I can’t be an astronaut! It’s impossible.”

“We already talked about this,” I said, standing my ground. “You can do it. It may get difficult but you can--”

“I don’t even know if I can go to high school!”

“What--”

“We don’t have the money. My dad says that if I want to go to high school, I’d have to get some sort of scholarship. Don’t you get it? I’m not smart enough!”

“M-maybe...maybe you can--”

“Stop! It’s useless. Take it back!” He furiously threw the book on the ground. “Don’t ever come back, okay? You clearly don’t understand anything!”

“Fine!” I yelled back. “I’m sorry for trying to help you--”

“Just leave!” the boy cried out as he ran farther and farther away from me, never looking back.

“I will!” I screamed angrily at the wind. 

Once again, I was alone.

I didn’t dare visit the library after that. I left the strange book on its shelf and tried to clear my head of all thoughts of the boy, his problems, and astronomy. Several nights I found myself crying silently into my pillow as the rest of my family were sound asleep. I hated the boy. I hated ever meeting him. I hated all the anger and pain that were slowly crushing my heart into bits and pieces.

I started skipping lunch. I gave my packed lunch to whomever in my class would take it and ran to one of the stalls in the girls’ bathroom right next to my classroom. Inside, I tried to read books. When my concentration failed me, which occurred quite often, I cried my eyes out and waited for the bell to ring. I lost weight, people noticed. Everyone complimented me. Everyone asked me what my secret was. I merely feigned a small laugh and left that as my reply.

One night I dreamt about the boy. He was leaning against the trunk of one tree. His arms were wrapped around his legs which were folded and pulled against his body. His face was buried in his knees and he was sobbing very hard. The afternoon sun was once again high in the sky, cruelly hot and intensely bright orange.

I walked toward the boy slowly, carefully. I was afraid that he might just push me away like he did before. But I kept moving forward. I was sick of replaying my last meeting with the boy, sick of fighting a pointless battle with him endlessly inside my head.

The boy looked up once I was right in front of him.

“You came back,” he sobbed.

“Not intentionally,” I replied honestly.

The boy held his breath. He seemed to be trying to stop himself from crying any more tears. He wiped his eyes and cheeks with his shirt. But it was no use. The tears just kept coming like hard rain in the middle of a storm. 

Without thinking, I knelt on the ground and wrapped my arms around him. I held him tight. Neither he nor I spoke a word. But I understood and accepted his tears and I knew he felt my words through the grip of my arms and my firm decision to stay with him. In the midst of a darkness that can’t be seen.

“I wished to s-see you a-again,” the boy confessed through tears. “I w-wanted to explain.”

I said nothing in reply. I let the silence let the boy know I was ready to listen to what he had to say.

“They l-laughed at me,” he stuttered. “I c-can’t be an a-astronaut. I wasn’t b-born lucky. I w-was jealous s-so I got angry.”

“Jealous?” I repeated, wondering who he was jealous of.

“O-of you.”

I held the boy tighter in my arms. Tears began to collect in my eyes as well.

“Y-you have b-books. You h-have a l-library.” He paused for a moment to breathe. He was crying so hard that it was difficult to inhale and exhale. “Y-you have a f-future.”

Now, I was crying with him. We wailed and created our own little waterfall of tears in the middle of the forest, beneath the sunlit sky. But somehow we knew that no matter how hard we cried no one would be able to hear us.

“It’s h-happening again,” the boy said.

At first I didn’t know what he was talking about. But I saw my arms through the haze of tears. And once again, they were beginning to lose clarity. I could see the back of the boy’s gray t-shirt through them. I tried to clutch the boy tighter. But it was no use. I was slowly disappearing. I was being pulled away. This wasn’t where I truly belonged.

“D-don’t forget me, p-please,” the boy seemed to be begging. “I-if you can, c-come back...f-for me.”

I didn’t get the chance to reply. Once more, I was back in my bed, my face wet with tears. I continued to sob into my pillows. Everyone else was sound asleep.

The next day, I finally decided to return to the library. But the book was nowhere to be found. I checked every other shelf in the room. The books in the hands of other library visitors. The books on the carts. I even mustered up the courage to ask for the librarian’s assistance in searching for the book. But she claimed to have never seen it and insisted that all library books had titles on them.

Once again, I was devastated. I cried nightly for weeks. I had lost all connection to the only friend I had had that year. And I could do nothing more for him, no matter how hard I tried.

I always came back to the library though. I came back to check the shelf I had initially found the book in and I came back to read the books the boy would have loved to read. I read books on astronomy, classic tales like Sherlock Holmes, and books on fantasy and adventure like The Hardy Boys, Island of the Blue Dolphins, and Bridge to Terabithia. I sometimes imagined I was reading to the boy in the forest, laughing with him, and listening to his silly and sometimes infuriating stories about his father.

Unfortunately, this is where this story ends. I never met the boy ever again. As I said before, I am afraid I might forget him, forget the stars whose beauty only he could accentuate.

So I wrote you this letter.

The boy is probably still out there. If you can, keep my promise. Please come back for him.

Your younger self

There are no more words left to read. But there is still one last sheet of paper you haven't looked at. On the paper is a colorless picture, drawn in a Japanese anime style. It is the sketch of a girl wearing a blouse with a ribbon and a skirt, hair tied in a simple ponytail, and a boy in a plain t-shirt and shorts, sitting side by side against a tree, laughing.

The picture draws the tears out of your eyes and sends them sliding down your cheeks onto the paper you hold in your hands. A portion of the drawing is smudged with your teardrop. You silently fold the sheets of paper and gaze at them with what seems to be a new pair of eyes. And you return to your computer, more determined to fill the blank page before you than ever before.

[iamwhelmed]

Win One, Have Two: Chapter 5

Didn’t think I’d get it done today, but here it is! Now to just finish (start...) my secret santa project!

Here it is on AO3

Here it is on fanfic.net!

It was lucky, especially for somebody as extraordinarily unlucky as him, to find a small quaint home deep inside the forest on the outskirts of the park. Even luckier, it was abandoned-- had been for some time, from the looks of it. Dust littered the bookshelves in the family room that greeted Isaac when he stepped-- stumbled, fell maybe-- through the front door with the broken lock. The wooden floors were darker than they might have been had they been mopped, and he could see dust bunnies peeking out from under the leather brown couch that sat before the cobweb-filled fireplace. He might have thought the cabin was a relic of the olden prairie days, but there was a radio sitting atop the coffee table, and when he’d fumbled his way into the kitchen in search of a bathroom, he’d found a microwave and electric stove. No TV, but he wasn’t going to ponder on that for too long.

Once he’d located the bathroom down the narrow hall that lead to the bedroom, guest room, and office, he’d fallen to his knees and huddled over the toilet, hands clutching at his stomach. He threw up again, or tried to; there was only bile, a reminder that he hadn’t eaten in the last two days. He couldn’t even stomach the toast he’d nabbed off of someone’s finished tray-- and that was before the nausea started. Isaac steadied himself on the toilet seat with one hand while he took slow, deep breaths, and tried to settle the tremble of his shoulders. His abdomen was in pain again, more than it had been since he’d cauterized it. He winced and pulled up the bottom of his jacket, cursing under his breath to find it’d opened up on him again. “Bandages. Gotta find…” He used the hand on the toilet to steady himself to stand, then used the other to lean against the bathroom counter “...bandages.”

He opened the medicine cabinet, and inside only found pill bottle after pill bottle. Hey, maybe there’s something for pain relief? Not exactly what I need right now, but it’s something… The first three bottles he pulled down, one of which was half full, was labeled “melatonin”; the other four or five bottles were labeled “risperidone”, and were completely empty-- not that he would have taken any without knowing exactly what “risperidone” was. He was desperate, not stupid.

With a grunt, he carried himself into the kitchen again, hoping against all hope there was another cabinet in the house that had some form of first aid. If worse came to worst, he could cauterize it again. Isaac flinched; that wasn’t something he wanted to do. He opened up the first cabinet at the edge of the hallway first, then the one next to it, and found only tupperware and canned foods-- which was great, but he needed medical equipment more than he needed food. He opened the next cabinet and exhaled upon seeing a couple of ace bandages sitting in unopened boxes. Those weren’t the right bandages, per say, but they would certainly do. He grabbed both boxes and slid to the floor, going to work unwrapping his eye first.

It took him awhile to bandage himself up, but time had become a stranger to him; he glanced at the clock to find it was 3:14-- school would have let out a few minutes ago, had he still been in Mayview. Isaac raised one hand to the kitchen counter, using it to hoist his heavy body off the murky tile floor. He winced, pressing his other hand to his abdomen, hoping to ease the sharp, burning sting as he got up. His next stop would have to be the bedroom. He needed to rest, just for a little while… Isaac squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head in a futile effort to ward away the dizziness that’d fallen over him, like a weight hanging from either of his ears, dragging him towards the floor. With a breath-- shaking, breath-- he carried himself down the hall, using the hand he’d pulled himself up with to lean against the rest of the way against the kitchen counter, and then the hallway wall when he came to it. He swallowed hard, noting with indifference how sore and dry his throat felt. He’d need to raid the kitchen when he woke up.

Once he’d found his way to the bedroom again, he pressed his entire body weight against the door, following it to the wall as it swung open, nearly stumbling over his own feet. He inhaled, sharply, and placed one hand on the oblong dresser that sat to the side of the bed. “Just a--” he coughed “...little farther.” He paused in mid-slump, closing his eyes and hoping to steady himself for a moment. The hand he carried his weight on was starting to grow sore, and he wondered how long it must have taken him to go from one end of the house to the other. He took another step forward, hand dragging only the way, until the tips of his fingers brushed something wooden, something cold. Isaac opened his eyes and turned his head, slowly because even a normal turn would have set him into another wave of nausea and vertigo. On the dresser sat a picture frame, a photo of a woman no older than Mister Spender, her dull brown eyes the color of the frame she sat upon. She was smiling, but he knew that smile, knew how the small curl of her lip was fake. What caught his attention was her hair, the orange hue, like a brighter chestnut, not quite as vibrant as an orange, but calmer, like his own. Subconsciously, he raised a hand and wiped away the dust that’d gathered over the frame, over her face, then pulled away and carried on towards the bed.

The bed was firmer than he would have liked, but the cushion still was miles and lightyears better than a bus-stop bench or the bend of a highway bridge, and his body relaxed the moment he hit the mattress. He didn’t even realize that he’d sighed, or that his muscles, which had been near constantly constricted, faltered and released. The heaviness of his eyes grew even starker, and Isaac squeezed his fingers through the sheets, as much as they smelled the mildew, and tangled them in the softness of cotton. It’d be nice to sleep in a real bed again, abandoned home or not.

His gaze fell upon the nightstand, eyes drawn to the black notebook that sat halfway open, like it’d been tossed aside in a hurry, in a panic. Maybe a clue? This place looks pretty untouched, so maybe they left in a hurry? Couldn’t pack? Well, if nothing else, it was reading material to fall asleep with.

Isaac took the notebook in one hand, then crawled under the covers, sighing again as his back hit the cushion and his head hit the pillows. He snapped the book open, surprised to find that most of the pages had been torn out-- all of them had been torn out… but one.

My dearest Norman,

I know you’ve been there for me. I know you’ve been trying. I just can’t do this anymore.

You don’t believe me. When I look into your eyes, when you’re holding me, I can tell. I keep telling you that I’m not seeing things, that I can touch them, that these shadows talk to me. And you had me convinced, just like everyone else, that I was crazy, that I needed medication. That I needed help. Mom was wrong, Dad was wrong, and Norman, you were wrong. And I’m tired. I’m tired of taking all of these stupid meds and I’m tired of you walking on eggshells around me, like I’m going to do something stupid! Like I’ll hurt myself! Like I’ll hurt you! Do you know what it’s like? Do you know how it feels to know the man you love is scared of you? To know he wonders if he’ll wake up the next day because he shares a bed with you? I’m not. crazy. And if you don’t believe me, if none of you are going to believe me, then I’ll find someone who does. I’m going home. Don’t bother looking for me-- and if Mom and Dad ask, pass it on.

“In other news, it’s been a little over a month since eighth grader Isaac O’Connor has gone missing--”

The TV blinked, and died, like a flash, and it took Zoey a moment to realize what happened. She pouted and twisted around the couch, leveling Max with her best glare as she eyed the remote in his hand, finger noteably pressed against the big red “power” button.

“Hey! Turn it back on!”

Max scoffed and climbed over the back of the couch to plop down beside her, lidded eyes staring her down. She lunged forward, reaching for the remote, but he was older than her-- and stronger, and a boy-- all he had to do was place his forearm below her chin and raise the remote out of grasp of her short, stumpy hands. “Shouldn’t you be watching something happy? Like a cartoon about ponies or something?”

Zoey huffed, nose scrunching. She fell back against the couch, crossing her arms over her chest. The glare stayed, though. “You don’t understand!”

“What? The basic interests of a gradeschool girl who wears her hair in a side pigtail and owns literal shelves of Baxborough Girl Dolls? Sorry, guess I missed the puberty memo. Oh wait… you’re too young for that still!”

“They found Isaac!”

Max’s sardonic grin fell away near instantly, jaw going slack as he hurriedly pressed the power button in direction of the TV, eyes wide, hands shaking. It couldn’t be. There was no way. Zoey misread something. Misheard something. Got Isaac’s case mixed up with another missing kid with ginger hair and baby blue eyes-- they couldn’t have found him!

“At around 2:30pm today, at Centerfly Park in Michitan City, local citizens spotted what appeared to be a young boy, no older than twelve years old.”

The station cut to a heavyset woman and her lanky boyfriend, who seemed just as aghast as two murder witnesses might be. The woman was shifting from side to side, tongue in cheek, shaking her head; her boyfriend had his hands and eyes on their golden retriever, scruffing the hair behind its perked ears, fingers nervous. “There ‘as something wrong with him, ya know? I wasn’t payin’ too much attention, but Mack and I heard a” she clapped her hands together “flap, and we turn, and there’s this boy on the ground, and there’s this circle around him…” She sucked her cheeks and shook her head. “He got up and ran. Looked freaked out.”

The camera gave a lengthy overview of the park, of the bathrooms, of the people wandering the stoned path lined by streetlights. “Locals say Isaac had a distinct wound over his right eye, and that he’s wearing jeans, a blue shirt, and a white jacket. He ran somewhere in the direction the the Centerfly Park forest, but he has left a trail of blood behind, and police are currently investigating where it leads.”

Spender closed the door to the principal’s office behind him, then sighed. Well, I suppose that went about as well as it possibly could have. He turned and carried himself down the hallway, notebook full of strategies tucked under one of his arms. We’re lucky the principal herself has been witness to shades, otherwise, I’d have been met with more of a challenge… and heaven knows things are complicated enough as it is. Now that they had the greenlight from the head of the school, they’d have to find a way to implement spectral courses into the curriculum. But before they even began doing that, they had to notify the students-- and parents-- that things were about to change; the issue was convincing the children who hadn’t been exhibiting spectral growth, and their parents, not to rat the entire paranatural world out to spectrals. The parents of actual spectrals, like Max’s father, they’d be swayed to keep their lips tight for fear of what might happen to their child if word got out-- nobody wants to envision their lineage being dissected under laboratory lights and scalpels; the parents of children with no spectral abilities, well, needless to say they wouldn’t have the same incentive. Spender raised a hand to readjust his glasses. How in the world would they pull this off?

“It’s simple.” Zarei crossed her legs under the cafe table, raising her teacup to her lips, savoring the earl grey-- its smell, its taste, its color-- in its entirety. Spender laughed under his breath, running a hand through his hair. “We’ll just have to convince the students who aren’t spectrals that they are.”

“We can only keep that ruse up for so long…”

“Even so, it will buy you time.”

Spender took a small bite of his vanilla cheesecake. His appetite had long since diminished, and he had a feeling he’d have little desire to box it come time to head home. It would sit in his fridge for a few days, grow even more unappetising, he’d put off throwing it out because he promised himself he’d eat it later, then eventually, inevitably, throw it out with a heavy heart because what was once a perfect slice of vanilla cheesecake had grown old (green?) and disgusting.

He set his fork down.

“Instead of changing the story for each parent depending on their child’s status as a spectral, give them all the same story, and insert every child into whatever curriculum it is you’re concocting with the school.”

“Don’t you think the other children will notice that they’re not seeing auras like their peers are? Like their friends are?”

Zarei raised an eyebrow at him behind the rim of her teacup. “Convince them that their powers are coming, then.”

Spender laughed, halfheartedly, and settled his chin in the palm of his hand. “So this entire plan revolves around telling a handful of middleschoolers that they’re late bloomers? Children believe that scarcely.”

“Perhaps. But it’s something their parents will buy and reiterate.”

He sighed and lifted his fork, taking small stabs at the cheesecake, toying with the frosting lining the outtermost layer. His whole body had felt heavier lately, or maybe he just felt weaker. “I suppose so…”

Zarei looked up at him again, crooked brows turning to furrow instead. Her lips pursed that way they always did when she was worried-- worried about him. She set her teacup down, resting her pinkie on the table just before the bottom of the cup, deafening the clitter. “Richard.” She exhaled. “It wouldn’t be too much trouble for me to join you at the school-- take on half the workload. I’m quite starved for something to do since my tool is out of commission, anyway. I’m more than capable, at least until we can find somebody better suited than I.”

He was able to muster a smile, a genuine one, and the slightest tinge in his stomach signaled that his appetite had somewhat returned. “That would be a tremendous help. I couldn’t thank you enough.”

“I’m sure you’ll find a way.” She smirked, a twinkle in her eye, and she reached out to open her silverware, ready to start on the salad she’d ordered. “Though, I can’t help but sense that there’s something else the matter.”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t play coy with me, you know I hate that.” She took a bite of her salad, and he took a bite of his cheesecake, if only to avoid answering long enough to come up with something to say, or at least throw her off the tracks of whatever it was she was prodding him to find. He often thought archeology would have been a nice fit for her, with such a tendency to dig. “There’s something else bothering you. What is it?” He winced, and her eyes drew to his torso. “Is it your chest? Is your wound bothering you again?”

“Er, no… in fact, it’s pretty much cleared up by now.” He gave her an awkward, half-toothy smile, then glanced at the television hanging on the wall behind her head. The rest of the televisions were displaying various sports, or even cartoons for kids less preoccupied with their food and more preoccupied with screaming for the attention of an inattentive parent. How lucky he was that he and Zarei had taken seats by the one TV displaying the local news-- or maybe she’d planned it that way, somehow. At first glance, the channel was covering the weather, after all they were getting into the autumn months, now, and hotter temperatures were dwindling away just as summer was. And then the next segment began, and his heart all but dropped into the lowest, furthest confines of the most acidic parts of his stomach.

Zarei’s nose twitched, and she turned around to look at the TV. “Now what could possibly be so important that you drop off mid-conversation--?”

Her eyes grew wide, and her jaw locked.

The school newspaper, funnily enough, had gotten no easier since the attack, and Suzy still hated the last words she typed up for the last article of the latest paper. She groaned and blew a raspberry, using the mouse to highlight the final paragraph in its entirety before deleting it. The part of her that’d spent hours and hours wording and rewording that paragraph screamed and threw things off the desk and cried over wasted time, but the perfectionist in her wielded a mental whip, and cracked it at the first sign of disobedience.

Suzy stretched her arms over her head and leaned back in her desk chair, watching Collin take bites of his breakfast bar, which was more a mid-afternoon snack than an actual breakfast. The sun was setting, and they should have left a good hour or two ago, but she was nothing if not stubborn, and she meant to finish that last paragraph even if it killed her. Collin looked up, eyes meeting hers, and she opened her mouth to say something, start a conversation--

Then Max came bursting through the clubroom door. “Isaac--!” He gasped then bent in on himself, hands at his knees as he began panting. Suzy leapt from her chair, and Collin all but fell backwards in his on his way up.

“What? Max, what?”

“They-- they found…” he huffed, then ran right up to her, eyes darting between her and the computer. It took her a moment before she realized he was asking for permission, which she granted with a frantic nod and two steps back. Max all but jumped at the keyboard, fingers moving so rapidly, she almost felt bad she’d restricted him to camera-guy in her fantasies. Collin came to stand at his other side, and in moments, Max had the local news station website up on the club computer. Max pulled up a video, then finally said: “They found Isaac!”

The video ran, and ran until it finished, and began again until Suzy reached out to stop it.

“Is there still information coming in?”

Max shook his head “No, they lost him, but at least we know what city he’s in.”

“That’s--!” Collin gestured around the room, eyes wide, panicked. “That’s not any help if he’s flipping dying!”

Max’s wide eyes turned dark, and the finger he raised to point at the video was rigid. Suzy squeaked and moved out of its way. “The video didn’t say he was dying. They said he was injured.”

“He left a trail of blood, Max!” Collin seemed unfazed, and Suzy was almost proud to see him level such a scary face, proud that she’d rubbed off on him, probably. But her attention was, first and foremost, on the article tied to the video. She’d skimmed it over, and then skimmed it over once more, but Collin was right… “People who aren’t dying don’t usually do that.”

Collin’s voice softened at the end, and Max fell silent. Suzy, strangely enough, couldn’t find a word to say, couldn’t look Max’s way for fear of the look on his face, the kind of worry that seeped into the bones and stayed there. Max’s hand fell from the monitor, then sat limply at the side of the desk.

There was a creaking sound, and it jolted Isaac awake.

The room was dark; the sun must have fallen while he was asleep, but realizing this and recognizing this did nothing to steady the vertigo that greeted him the moment he opened his eyes. The entire room spun, and rounded him in a blur. The overpowering smell of mildew was no help, and for a moment he thought he’d throw up right then and there. Sleeping was supposed to help him, let his body recover as he rested, but he felt even worse than he did before he’d snuck under dirtied and mussed covers.

He squinted, then closed his eyes and reopened them to a much clearer room-- to the much clearer vision of a woman standing at the doorway.

Isaac leaped up, grabbing the covers and tossing them off, and the stranger raised her hands in defense, taking a few steps forward into the light of the night sky peering in through the wall-length window of the bedroom. His aura flared, wide and wild, like an uncontained fire over his body. She chuckled, and he could hear she was nervous, but she still held her ground. “Hey, hey, hey! I’m not here to hurt you!”

She was young-- maybe in her mid-twenties, dressed like it too. Who wore a leather jacket with fingerless gloves-- oh right. She took another step closer, and he could see a streak of purple in the black bob that was her hair. Isaac pressed his back to the headboard, raising one hand cautiously to keep her at bay. “That’s fine. I have to leave now, and I need you to not call the police.”

“I can’t do that.”

Isaac sighed, and slid one leg over the side of the bed, readying himself to make a quick escape. He had no idea who this woman was, why she was there, or how she found him in the middle of a forest in an abandoned home… but it was sketchy, and he had more than enough injuries. “Look, you don’t understand!”

“I do. If you just let me explain, I can help you.”

Isaac frowned, and raised his hand higher, but nodded for her to continue. She sighed, and let her raised hands fall just a bit, elbows at waist-length, no longer at her chest. Her smile was calm, and confident, and he found himself interested in what she had to say.

Then there was a creak in the floor, and the stranger hadn’t moved.

Isaac whipped around, lightning cracking at his hand, blue entangling and covering his fingers. He could only make out of the vague shadow of a tall, broad-shouldered man, and then the world around him went dark.

The club, upon a call from Mister Spender, had collected in the clubroom, and were then watching him pace back and forth, chin in his hand. Max had been the first to show, before even Spender had made his way to the clubroom, and met inquiring glances with a grimace and a shrug. He sat huddled on the couch, one leg (which Spender would usually demand be set on the floor) pulled to his chest, other swinging lifelessly over the side of the couch. Isabel sat to his right, then Dimitri, both looking confused, though Dimitri was far deeper in thought.

“None of this makes sense.” Isabel leaned forward, elbow on her knee, cheek in palm. “How did Isaac get outside of the barrier?”

“That doesn’t matter just yet.” Dimitri hummed, eyes narrowed, somewhere far in the distance, passed the wall of the clubroom. “What matters is that they found a trail of his blood.” Isabel sluncked back into the couch, sliding in on herself as she fell silent. “We need to take the train out to him as soon as possible.”

Max shook his head. “We can’t.”

Dimitri blinked, eyebrow arched. “Why not?”

Isabel waved a dismissive hand, eyes shifting to the side. “Some things happened and the train is in a tool right now, recovering.”

“If it’s in a tool, that means it can be used.”

“Not without Doctor Zarei,” Isabel crossed her arms, lips in a thin line. There was a twitch in her, like her entire body couldn’t settle, like her nerves were fried and she couldn’t think straight. Dimitri was already watching her, but Max eyed her from the side. “Besides, we shouldn’t anyway! Isaac made that choice and he’s just gotta deal with it now.”

Spender halted in his pacing, turning on her with wide eyes, and Dimitri’s held no less surprise.

“Isabel…!”

“Don’t you think that’s a little harsh?”

Isabel shrugged, squirming under the unwanted attention.

“Okay, you know what?” Max sat up, and Isabel lurched backward when he prodded his finger in her face, an inch from her nose. His aura began to fester around him, black, so black it might have been growing darker with every bit of him that grew anxious, that grew angry. “Holding onto a grudge is one thing, I get why you’re mad at him-- but actively not helping him when he might be bleeding out somewhere is-- is--!”

Isabel’s aura flashed, hot, bright red against Max’s black, teeth grinding, fists clenching. It took everything in her not to chomp down on the finger he stuck in her face, and so help her if it got any closer she might. She smacked his hand away and leaned closer, close enough that she could throw her head into his if she wanted to, leave a big bruise on his stupid face!

“Isaac is a traitor! He tried to sell us out to the entire world! Just because you got over it doesn’t mean I have! He could have gotten us all kill--!”

“Isabel.”

She froze. Mister Spender rarely spoke like that… spoke like that to her. He was a funny man, a kind man, and when he was mad, his voice was deep, guttural, and every bit as tremble-inducing as her grandfather’s. She bit down on her tongue, hard enough to make it bleed; she turned to look at him.

He was standing stiff, and though she couldn’t see passed his glasses, she could tell, she knew, she could feel the anger flaring there, the power she sometimes forgot he had. She couldn’t so much as twitch, she was paralyzed, staring back at him. He’d never been mad at her before, never like this. She felt a sting behind her eyes, and it was like she was a little kid, some stupid brat getting scolded for not sharing her toys, and she hated it. She hated being scared. Being guilty.

Spender turned away from her and walked to his desk, all at once releasing her from her prison and wringing her heart. She slumped further into her seat, biting down on the inside of her cheek. Max lost interest and turned to watch Spender, but Dimitri continued to stare.

Spender picked up his phone and dialed someone’s number, back turned to them. “I’m going to give Zarei a call. We’ll go searching for him tomorrow morning. Hopefully we won’t be too late.”

[jonliveson]

Why we kneel!

FIRST OF ALL I WANT TO SAY THAT I RESPECT THE MILITARY AND APPRECIATE EVERYTHING THEY DO FOR US IN THIS COUNTRY!THIS IS NOT ABOUT THEM!

“Why are those black players kneeling?Disrespecting the flag and this great nation.They have no respect.Why are white people joining them.Those dumb liberal A holes need to know their place!This is a great country with a rich history!There should be honor and respect at the thought of the American flag.” Well ladies and gentleman.I feel so sad for you if this is your thought process because you are very detached from reality.But maybe I can shed some light on the situation and you can better understand why I could care less about this flag or the National anthem in the current state of this country!Hopefully you can understand a little bit better why we kneel. Sorry but not sorry!Some History.Slaves were brought from Africa against their will.Slavery was alive and thriving in the 17th and 18th centuries;200 years ago.The civil rights movement took place in the 1960s;50 years ago.The freaking national anthem was written by a slave owner are you kidding me!Do not think were are so far gone from the legal institutions of racism and segregation in this country.Sorry to burst your bubble but it wasn’t that long ago folks. “All these years have passed and they are still mad I don’t get it.They live in a free country,they work and make money.Whats wrong with those SOBs!”That is the problem right there you have no idea what we are kneeling for.You are blinded by your own privilege and futile thought process that you can’t imagine somebody having a contrary believe to something that you think so highly of.Well here is an interesting perspective,America is not fair to everybody!!Maybe this will help you understand a little bit better.Black Lives Matter!(Yes it’s a movement that supports the importance of black lives in a country that doesn’t seem to care much about them.)Not because other lives don’t matter but because the lives and blood that is being spilled in the street for no apparent reasons seems to be black men.That the gentrification of Once beautiful black cities such as my home town “the chocolate city”(translation:the city full of black people) are too expensive for the black people to even live there anymore.Yes we are sent to jails,yes literal jails with cells and bars all the time.But let’s not forget about the jails that we are banished to.The ones we call communities full of police,bad schooling,poor sanitation and little to no opportunities to make it out and be successful in this “great” country!Just work hard they say!Okay I’ll take that but that’s a whole different topic that I’m not going to entertain at the moment! Anyway here is more insight from my eyes. Do we not know that killing someone in law enforcement is an extreme measure and should only be done when absolutely necessary!Please don’t tell me that black people kill black people everyday blah blah blah.I know that and that pisses me off too but that’s not the issue here and that’s not what BLACK LIVES MATTER IS ALL ABOUT!Its sad when I get pulled over and I fear for my life!Its sad that I’ve been pulled out of my car sat on a curb in the middle of the street searched and question for no reason as If I am a criminal.Well I guess I am because being black in this country is a crime!Happens all the time where I’m from.Its like we know the drill and when we see the red and blue we tense up as if someone already has a gun to our head.Their word against ours.Likely that we will lose that battle even with no evidence. Those thought to to protect and serve have a reputation that makes us fear and get mad at their presence. Anyway back to the issue at hand.Black People are being killed by police officers.PERIOD!The real issue is the amount of times that it has happened and officers and people getting away with it.Paid leave and dropped charges with the ability to be back to work in no time are things we are talking about here!We are oppressed in a country that we built.If you don’t want us here then you shouldn’t have brought us!

Please understand that those third world sad little countries that we send quarters to.Yeah those poor little black kids.”Awww let’s adopt one!”Yeah whatever.Those countries have been left ransacked.Once rich with minerals and natural resources.What are they now!?Thats why we kneel!Do you get it now?There is so much more to it than you see or than you want to see. You see I don’t blame you for being scared of me.I don’t blame you for crossing the street when I walk on the same side as you.I don’t blame you for clutching your purse or giving me that little safety smirk to make sure you’re safe.The media has portrayed me as a threat.I am black with tattoos yes fear me!Lol it’s laughable really.Understand who the real threats are.We are not the enemy we are the victims of a government and country that we were never supposed to have rights in.Now do you get?Its not us but it is the suits and ties and one percenters.But y’all call us thugs and gangsters!Lol.Real gangsters put in work and get off free of charge!Lol AMERICA!Yes I am mad but I am more so encouraged.I hope this sparks conversations.Yes the uncomfortable ones.Invest in somebody a different color than you!Learn about them and their background.Do you part to change the narrative of this country.I love everyone black,white purple or green it doesn’t matter.We should love everyone the same!If we do this we can really make America great for once! Maybe you have a different experience than me if so let’s talk about it.This is not an attack on any specific race.Its just what I’ve been through in my life and my experiences!Please asked questions and share!! |Philippians 3:8|

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An Overview on Exactly How to Protect Against Identity Theft as well as Identity Theft Security

If you need to know just how to stop identity theft, as everybody should, there are a couple of steps to prevent identity theft specifically that you are going to desire to recognize. Certainly you can never ever entirely prevent identity theft, but by being accountable and careful, you will be able to avoid it as long as possible.

First you are going to intend to find out more on the criminal offense of identity theft generally and also what is includes, to make sure that you are as enlightened as feasible on this matter as well as can much better identify the different ways to stop identity theft.

Identity Theft

Identity theft happens when somebody else utilizes your personal info without your knowledge as well as grant devote a criminal activity such as fraud or theft. They might be using your information and also dedicating the criminal offense on your, or someone else. They steal vital pieces of info such as credit rating card numbers, social safety numbers, as well as motorist's license numbers in order to dedicate the identity theft criminal offense.

Maintain Yourself Safe

There are a couple of really reliable methods on how to avoid identity theft. If you wish to know how to avoid identity theft, you are mosting likely Great site to need to be mindful of these ideas on exactly how to stop identity theft as well as make certain that you utilize them to shield yourself as well as your finances.

Among the most convenient but most effective techniques of how to prevent identity theft is to shred all your essential documents once you are done taking a look at them, instead than simply throwing them in the trash as they are since this makes it extremely simple for someone to locate these files and also swipe your identity.

If you are throwing away bills and also charge card statements, ATM dishes, and also other individual details, you might be leaving too much info lying concerning and so you intend to see to it that you shred all documents with personal info on them before getting rid of them.

You ought to likewise ruin all digital information traces that you may be leaving. When you market, trade, or otherwise deal with a computer system, hard disk, or back-up tape of any type of type, you are mosting likely to need to take the correct actions in order to make sure that the data is entirely damaged. By doing this if somebody does find it and try to use it they will not be able to congregate your individual information.Key Steps to Prevent Identity Theft - Identity Theft Protection - Unfortunately there is no excellent way of staying clear of a criminal offense like identity theft, nevertheless there are particular pointers to avoid identity theft that you can truly use to your benefit and also which will assist make certain that you are as shielded from this crime as possible.

Is Your Child At Risk For Identity Theft?

There is a great deal of speak about identity theft in the media today yet few are reporting on the fastest expanding demographic of identity theft sufferers, kids. Youngsters are at particular risk for identity theft as a result of the fact that they get a valid social security number at birth and also couple of families bother to check their children's credit rating records because they think there's nothing to monitor. Years later when the child reaches adulthood and also attempts to buy a car or obtain a credit report card, the fraudulence is observed as well as the application is decreased. What follows this event is a desperate and frequently futile effort to remove the credit scores record so the young person can proceed with their life. This write-up will discus this phenomenon in more detail and also assess some straightforward steps you can take to protect your child from identity theft.

How Child Identity Theft Happens

Every youngster born in America is issued a social safety number, which the parent typically needs to obtain for medical insurance and tax obligation functions. During taking the youngster to the physician, registering for institution, registering for sporting activities, and filing taxes, the youngster's social safety number is spread out everywhere. While the government is busy making changes to secure adults from identity theft, a child's social safety number is still the top form of identification at institution as well as at medical workplaces. This makes every child a target for identity theft.

Moreover, few moms and dads also think of inspecting their youngster's credit history report since the kid isn't using any kind of credit until they are concerning eighteen years of ages. Even grownups that acknowledge the relevance of monitoring their very own debt history, and also do so consistently, neglect the demand to maintain tabs on their kids's credit report reports. At the same time the federal government urges people to monitor their own debt without mentioning that they should do the same for their kids under 18. Most disturbingly is that the web sites established to provide free yearly credit scores reports do not allow you to watch your youngsters's records. You need to send out a letter via the mail in order to access to this information.

When Child Identity Theft Happens

Typically the youngster does not understand that they have been a sufferer of identity theft up until several years after the reality. This presents a number of issues for the new grownup in relation to removing their credit report. Thieves who devote identity theft versus kids open new accounts and also get financings for the kid. Data show that it is typically much extra challenging to clear accounts that were opened up brand-new as compared to existing accounts with fraudulent fees made on them. Secondly, the accounts are frequently years old and deep right into collections by the time the specific becomes conscious of the youngster identity theft. Even if the accounts are settled after mosting likely to collections, the black mark remains from the original lender for years.

Secure Your Child From Identity Theft

The most effective method to safeguard your child from identity theft is to regularly monitor their credit scores report each year. It is likewise an excellent concept to prevent giving out your child's social safety number other than when it is absolutely needed. Only the IRS, and also in many cases your physicians, deserve to demand your child's social safety number. In addition you need to never bring your kid's social safety and security around with you. Remember the number and leave the card in your home.

Your Child And Identity Theft Prevention

Most individuals connect identity theft sufferers with older individuals. This clings a particular extent. But there are numerous identity theft and also fraudulence victims who are minors. How can this be? It happens to kids whose social protection numbers and also individual information are extracted from seemingly safe sources. Researches done by the Federal Trade Commission have revealed identity theft against youngsters to be the fastest growing industry coverage grievances of identity theft. In most cases the youngsters can not also trust their parents to protect them since sadly relative devote the majority of kid identity burglaries. The federal government needs to step ... Tips on http://query.nytimes.com/search/sitesearch/?action=click&contentCollection&region=TopBar&WT.nav=searchWidget&module=SearchSubmit&pgtype=Homepage#/identity theft Identity Theft Protection - You have likely come across individuals succumbing identity fraud and it might appear that just older individuals are a lot more prone to coming to be victims. Countless grownups are unaware of the lengths that identity burglars will certainly go, to obtain the cash and information that they want.

What To Do If You've Been A Victim of Identity Theft

Completing An Identity Theft Police Report

One of the most fundamental parts of returning your life to normal after your identity has actually been swiped is to fill out an identity theft police report. Filling up out an identity theft cops report will certainly make the cops familiar with the theft and also will certainly allow them to bill the criminal with the criminal activity when they are found and also if your info can be connected to them at all, they will be charged with the criminal activity. Unless the cops realize that the identity theft has actually taken place, there is no chance that the offender will ever before be billed with the criminal offense.

Why Is Filling Out The Report Important?

In most cases, any credit history card business that you contact to close accounts that were opened up as a result of the identity theft will require you to complete an identity theft authorities record before they will consider your case to be valid. You may also be called for to authorize a waiver permitting the charge card firm to prosecute the person that has opened up the fraudulent account to the full level of the legislation once they have actually been discovered to ensure that the bank card company can redeem their losses. Identity theft scams expenses bank card firms as well as financial institutions countless dollars annually and also allowing the lawbreakers to be prosecuted in criminal court means that the business numerous be able to return some of the cash that they shed.

Once you have actually filled in an identity theft police record, opportunities are that you will certainly not be held responsible for the accounts that were opened fraudulently in your name. Numerous credit scores card contracts have a waiver that the person will certainly not be held responsible in case of the account being utilized by one more person for criminal matters and will cancel the account at the request of the target with very few questions asked. It is easy for the charge card company to determine whether a charge card is being utilized for deceitful purchases due to the fact that after the credit scores card has been released, the criminal charges as several items to the credit rating card as possible in a short amount of time, maxing it out, as well as never make any type of repayments on the expense for the account.

What Happens After You Fill Out The Report?

After you fill in the identity theft cops record, there is little else that you will need to do until the criminal that was utilizing your identity has actually been caught. If you have accredited the credit score card company to seek the sentence of the criminal, you possibly won't also need to show up at the court for the test of the criminal. In some instances, the lawbreaker will be conducting their criminal operations in an additional state, which would certainly make it tough for the person to participate in the court hearings, yet in the majority of the cases, just filing an identity theft cops record suffices to make sure that the crook will be tried for the criminal offense.

Should Your Purchase Identity Theft Insurance?

Going For The Identity Theft Insurance Policy

There is a lot to be stated about shielding on your own from criminals that are just waiting to take your cash and your individual info as well as live your life as if it was their own. There is nothing incorrect with taking a great deal of time to completely investigate just how to stop identity theft since you will be all the much better in the end when you recognize precisely what to do. The bets point you can do is to start looking for an identity theft insurance plan that you can afford which can completely cover you as well as all of your individual requirements.

The identity theft insurance coverage policy is one that can bring your life back with each other if it ever gets struck by a person attempting to take every one of your individual info. Without an identity theft insurance coverage in tact, you are delegated need to deal with all of the lawful implications by yourself which might wind up costing you thousands of bucks, also though you are the victim in all of it. But with the identity theft insurance plan in place, you should have no trouble getting every one of your stuff positioned back with each other as well as having the ability to progress with your life.

Where To Shop For Policies

When it pertains to looking for an identity theft insurance plan, there is absolutely nothing a lot more important then ensuring that you are checking out in all of your different options. This is the only method to make sure that you are truly getting the absolute best bargain about. There is no feeling in spending money on a plan that absolutely is ineffective to ensure that is why it depends on you to see to it that the plan you choose is one that is something you are going to desire to keep about for a lengthy time to find so you do not need to go via all of that buying again.

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If You Can’t Find The Right Partner You Should Read This

New Post has been published on http://healingawerness.com/getting-healthy/getting-healthy-women/if-you-cant-find-the-right-partner-you-should-read-this/

If You Can’t Find The Right Partner You Should Read This

Shivani K March 28, 2019

Love, there was a time when people believed that it’s a part of their destiny to fall in love. People waited for the universe to give them a sign, and they’d follow the signs to know if they are in love or not. But, gone are those days, right? In the present time, nobody believes in this logic. No one actually waits for love to knock at their door. They believe in taking the lead and going out there in search of their special one.

Given that, don’t you think that finding true love in today’s world is nothing short of a frightening math assignment? We mean, you know the formulas, yet you’re doubtful of the result. We also understand and empathize with you, if you’re somebody who’s hunted for love numerous times, only to taste defeat. And we’re telling you that it’s okay, it’s a matter of the heart and chances are high that you’ll goof it up. We can say it’s because these days people have become demanding, and they have high expectations, but let’s admit that it’s never too easy to love a person. It’s always surrounded by complications.

If you are yet to meet your special one, then don’t lose heart for we have compiled a few pointers that will guide you on your quest for love.

Love Can Never Be Futile. And Some People Can Never Know What Love Really Is

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If the person you’ve started to like considers the idea of love as being futile, then just steer clear of them. Love is a lovely feeling. You’ll find plenty of humans out there who demean the entire concept of affection. They are the kind of folks who are too self-focused to share their love and time with another human being. They just love themselves and don’t understand the concept of “to give is to receive.”

If you think the subject of your affections is somebody who isn’t likely to share their love and care with you, then tick them off your list. You don’t want to be around a person who wants all your love, care, and affection, but doesn’t return any of it. If a person is making you feel insecure about the life you’re living and wants you to adopt their ways, then too, veto them from your list. But, hey, never give up on finding love, okay?

Remember That Nobody Can Ever Be The Ideal. Always Pick The One Who’s Going To Fall In Love With Who You Are

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Everybody in this world is born with imperfections. And it just isn’t justifiable to compare one with another. And if you find yourself in the company of a love interest who constantly compares you with another person, then you definitely don’t deserve that type of love. Remember you are the best version of you there is, and there can be no version inferior or superior to you. Because nobody can be you.

Judging someone is totally baseless. You should love the unique traits and even, the flaws of the person you love, and they should be doing the same with you. There can always be a better lover than you, a better artist than you, someone wiser than you. But you are what you are, and that too for a reason. You need to find a person who will love you for the amazing person that you are. If you find someone judging you on the benchhmarks such as beauty, your paycheck, your status — just stay away from them. Find yourself a person who’d love you for being you, just you!

Love Is A Partnership. Pick A Soul Mate Who Can Maintain That Partnership

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Love can’t sustain on attraction alone, can it? It’s more of an ever-evolving partnership between your partner and you. It will take both of you to keep it going strong and never get bored of each other. It’s like a deep friendship between the two of you. It’s built on cooperation and trust. Find yourself a person who is going to appreciate you when you’re doing excellent and be your guide during your worst times. Love in its entirety is about two people, proportionally constructing a world with each other.

Phew! So yes, finding and falling in love can be a very difficult assignment these days. In this age, where everybody values themselves the most, wears crowns which have ego jewels all over them, it’s definitely difficult to stay in love. But, we don’t want you to give up, just yet. Recognize where your happiness lies and with whom. Wherever you find the scope, hold on and make it work. Just make sure that your efforts are worth it. Be you. And live, laugh, and make merry with the love of your life.

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Source: https://www.stylecraze.com/trending/the-right-partner-in-your-life/

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The way to consider my essay producing to school stage?

Writing an autobiography usually means a good deal of self searching and researching. Writing this kind of essay isn’t a simple job. Writing an incredible essay isn’t really a quite straightforward endeavor.

If you want to put up such essays for everybody to read, make sure your words do not lead anyone to follow along with the incorrect path of treatment, medication or exercise. If you start your speech or essay with a weak opening, you run the potential of losing the eye of your audience. Some people may believe that learning how to compose an autobiography is a really tricky undertaking.

Fantastic term papers are sure to help you remain www.taxgenieusa.com in school. An introductory letter from a new teacher is a manner of welcoming the students and parents to your class and thus, the tone of the letter ought to be very polite. An essay is simply a device are aware that the student to acquire someone and to examine a student’s producing capabilities.

Among the ways to compose an essay is to get an intriguing or mysterious introduction. Decide what sort of essay you prefer to compose. There are many sorts of essays, therefore it isn’t really hard to eliminate your eye on all your writing assignments.

College professors utilize essay writing as a means to examine the operation of their students. You will need to do research if you’re most likely to compose a specific essay. Evidently, you can always purchase college essays online.

Writing your bio for a social media site usually means that it should be informal. A guide is an article that is quite broad and can accommodate many diverse subjects. In the event that you don’t learn how to start to your informative article or at which to hunt for supporting info, then we’re likely to be delighted to aid you.

Name essay assists in our private identification. Translate any words that you don’t know how to produce them in your essay. Just ensure that it does not sound simply factual.

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If done correctly, it is an easy and efficient means to write the whole paper quickly. If done correctly, it is a simple and effective way to write the entire paper quickly. A thriving introduction need only be a few paragraphs.

An outline format for research paper can be quite beneficial to you, because it is going to help keep you organized. You shouldn’t be afraid to update any component of your paper. If you’re given the topic, you ought to think of the shape of paper that you want to produce.

It’s not sufficient to have a notion, but it’s a great start. There’s no escaping work but the concept of being obsessed with it shows its futility. Thus, it’s the smartest approach to have a start.

Bear in mind that you’re supposed to compose a letter, not an essay. Once you’re satisfied with the introduction, you have a start to composing an essay. Our illustration essay may offer you the capacity to understand exactly how to use type of creating.

Type of How to Start Essay

Don’t forget that many of what’s going to be discovered at the outline should be readable as you’ll only will have to do some rewriting to finish the previous duration paper. If you need a letter for yourself, ask somebody who has known you for a very long time and can mention optimistic things about you, to write it. There’s no hint where to start.

Do a little bit of research before you start writing. It’s possible to locate a couple of issues about writing a post, you must figure out before you get started writing. You will certainly get an accessibility to a beneficial bit of writing.

The aim of an introductory paragraph is definitely to entice the readers and spot the most important topic and aim of the writing. Because paragraphs are so imperative to the overall structure of an essay, it’s vital to know the way to use them correctly. Because they are so necessary to the general structure of an essay, it is essential to learn how to use them correctly.

Begin with a story from somebody who knows the topic of the biography well, like a friend, family member, business colleague or spouse. Although there are lots of added benefits of writing an introductory letter, not a lot of teachers know what precisely to write, to earn a fantastic impression on parents. The point is to associate of the thing you ought to get or what type of company you’ll really like to possess.

Source: http://mobimatic.io/2019/03/22/the-way-to-consider-my-essay-producing-to-school-stage/

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San Antonio SEO Services

Opposite to what numerous web designers would intentionally recommend; one can make it through on the Web without taking the assistance of any type of Search Engine Optimization services company. However, this absolutely relates to a restricted collection of instances. Blog owners that simply want to relay their thought without seeking any type of substantial group to their website may not need SEO services. Site owners whose website is currently understood to its target market numerous not necessarily need SEO Services in San Antonio to popularize it additionally. Once more, any individual who simply wishes to be on the Internet without any intention to be popular or motoring profits can endure without Search Engine Optimization restorative.

But these instances are really unusual, especially when somebody is on the Internet to make money when a person is on a service which is truly affordable and also when someone requires to target potential web traffic to drive optimal focus. Currently, the reality is mostly all the internet sites wish to be the leader in their particular niche today. They wish to be prominent, they wish to be fund and obtain noticed. And this is precisely where as well as why they require Digital Marketing in San Antonio services from a good Search Engine Optimization business.

Below's a comprehensive view of why the services of any type of Search Engine Optimization Firm is really important

The major variety of website traffic is originated from online search engine today. People will kindly search phrases in the search box to discover what they need. If they do not locate you in the very first few searches, they may never know that you are.

There is uncountable Website Designing Service San Antonio offered today. The market is competitive and each is right here with something special. Out of all these, search engines like to advise searchers the very best quality sites which could help them in taking the choice. Currently, SEO aid online search engine does their work a lot more easily by recommending the sites they are handling. Therefore, search engines believe them.

San Antonio SEO Services assist you to get insightful thoughts. When you see the details of the activities launched by the inbound traffic to your site, you understand what your target market, in fact, requires from you. Their keywords, their choice, their likeness help you improve your site the thoughtful means. You would certainly see the following big short article on your blog site is really based on a search phrase searched by your audience.

Unlike other mediums of marketing which can cost you loan as well as time, an excellent San Antonio SEO Company services firm needs less time and also much less money to show you top quality results. Your time is saved and also you get better benefits of an enhanced service.

An SEO Company in San Antonio can locate the details of your competition extra properly. While you may guess what's pulling up the success of your rival, the CEOs can determine their genuine success tale. They can figure out the ideal search phrases, targeted audience, as well as the nature of techniques which your competitors are making use of to be on the top. Based upon the searchings for, they can get a reasonable picture of the marketplace, competition as well as your future strategy.

That's alright, but aren't there any kind of difficulties? There are. In fact, there are lots of. With the substantial popularity of Search engine optimizations, the sector is ending up being extremely successful. However, after that certain essential factors play an essential role in identifying its success constantly. Getting the assistance of any kind of Search Engine Optimization company is futile if the solutions they give do not fetch you results. This is the main point where the video game adjustments. There should be lots of instances where local business owner stops working to recognize the full powers of SEO. They take their site via to the Best SEO Company in San Antonio wishing some excellent news is on the stock quickly. However, when their IT invests return with absolutely no benefits, they start believing Search Engine Optimization is of no help. This arises out of many reasons, several of which may consist of

The SEO Firm is not experienced sufficient to recognize your business

The Search Engine Optimization Services Company stopped working to locate the right collection of keyword phrases which matters you most

The business is utilizing underhanded techniques to rank the website

The traffic is coming but it's not making the way for producing revenue.

The client has actually not asked for the full benefit of SEO Solutions. This consists of obtaining half of the services when just a full-fledged SEO package could be helpful for him.

Contact Shalabh Mishra Mobile: +919212306116 Skype: Shalabh.Mishra Gmail: info@hireseoconsultants.com Kindly visit:- https://www.hireseoconsultants.com/san-antonio

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Real Estate Agents Methods And Methods All Web Sites Must Employ

CHAPTER 6: THE CLIENTS CHAPTER 3: LICENSING Just how does one make matters better? You secure the nation included! At different times a week, you'll get yourself a two hour stints. The notion is that clients will call in searching for a realtor as they've a house they want to buy. I'd guess that this has happened ever, in the history of genuine estate. The majority phone calls to the old timers. If you should be fortunate enough to find you to definitely express they will utilize one to sell their own house, you should know that their house is worth much more than the one three doors down which is exactly the same. Why? Idon't know. Maybe they're delusional. They're dumb. They're greedy. They're upside-down on the house. Probably they require the capital. It is probably all of the aforementioned. • Tuesday. In-house training, or "just how to waste 3 solid hours of prime work period." • vehicle. They'll pay for your vehicle! No, they still won't. If you're one among the most effective 2 manufacturers, and are willing to put a god awful giant sticker on either side and rear of your own (accurately colored) auto, they will cover a minimal amount to you. Why shouldn't they? It. CHAPTER 8: "Assist" (note quote marks) All you have to do is get the telephone, notify the company their name and telephone number and where they truly are searching. What exactly is? NOW it's cash back. I know individuals who made about referrals than that I did as a real estate agent, many occasions more than. Clearly, there's a charge nevertheless, also you didn't think that was free, did you? Also to stay in "referral status" that you require to simply take continuing instruction. CHAPTER 4: FEES, FEES and FEES • Name tag. Very good information is free of charge. The awful thing, you have to have on a name tag. Back when I had a actual project, '' I realized a gentleman who'd consistently said "When a man has to put on a name label during his job, he is not so successful." They despise you. • Wednesday. "Twilight" open houses. This means that your nighttime is shot. Which usually means that if you have a individual that wishes to market their house for £330,000 nevertheless, also you personally and everyone know that it won't bring £250,000, then you inform them you'll set it to get their price, and after that slowly and gradually enable the price decline when folks laugh at the house. • Tip 1): there's a whole lot of cash. It really is just not going to be all made with you. In truth, a lot of it is actually likely to come FROM you. The real estate companies themselves create an enormous amount of money in part by churning folks through their "apps" and spitting them out with emptier pockets. CHAPTER 7: YOUR LIFE AS AN AGENT • Business cards. They truly are liberated! Well, sort of. The basic, crappy models are liberated, the ones that scream "I am new for the!" To find kinds that are fine you have to pay, and you've got to cover the picture. That really is my narrative. Don't let it change your mind if you want to goes into the world of residential real real estate. I had a realestate agent inform me what a dreadful idea it was and that I moved together with my plan that is stupid. I had a gorgeous Ford Mustang GT once I got this "job". I sold it because I was told that you need to simply take all your clients over the place to look at houses. Outside with the sports automobile, in addition to the Volvo station wagon (at the horrible company coloration, needless to say.) As it turns out, no one wants to ride with their real estate agent; they want to follow you about. This will be for many good reasons: so that they can escape you when they want, so they can talk about the houses with no hearing them (even if you're their reputable adviser)...oh, plus so they despise you. I truly overlook that Mustang.

CHAPTER 10: AFTERTHOUGHTS • Friday. Mailings, client looking, sitting around. • real estate agent fees make you the "Realtor" trapdown. This could be the trap you're ever going to despise putting on. CHAPTER 1: SOME Swift Starter 'S Guidelines Keep in mind that you have two choices here: you can either become a Realtor or you can become a Realtor. Yes, Apartments For Sale In Dublin you see that right. I'll create no conclusions regarding the organization's value, except to say that sitting through the most boring training ever nets you a tiny R pin. Nothing says I'm a triumph a lot better compared to the pin with an R on it...right close to your name label. • Cardkey. Now you need this to access involved with almost any house that's up for sale. Yes, it's necessary for you to cover this. Plus they can not send it; you require to drive 30 miles to pick it up. It really is weird to participate a substantial endeavor for somebody who you realize. They will use you to buy or sell a house, but no 1 wants you to know their financial business, therefore that it's challenging. Your family and friends may possibly need tiny favors, like...they will need all their money back. Yes, badly. I'd a comparative ask if I would give back them all of my commission if they utilized me personally to buy a house. I declined, and also the request was the nail that secured my realestate coffin shut. • Monday. Mandatory conferences and house tours. The meeting is futile, and Website link that's why you see old timers there, they slough off following the first house and end up God-knows-where. They truly are most likely at the bar. The tour is pretty fun, even although. You have to know everybody complain about everything that they work with and everything in those houses. You get to wander through a stranger's house and listen to your coworkers (proudly showing their name badges) criticize the homeowner's decisions whatsoever. Cases: Things thought with this particular carpeting? Have they cleaned the room? Wow, these are a few kiddies in that film. I can not think they abandon Paxil AND Prozac . Their agent is someone who's blessed and miserable, sitting down over an available field of charge or a heap of alimony funds, and just needs some thing to keep them busy. Then would be only, and some one who is wed, sitting over a available line of charge or a heap of cash needs something to keep them out of the house and away from their spouse. If you're not one of these two, that's OK - you'll be taken by them. •The Multi-List Process. You simply cannot be a true estate agent without even access to this MLS. It has to be free right? No. While I state "old timers", I'm speaking to the agents which have been employed in the office for more than the usual year. They will make eye contact simply because they count on you to be gone in a few months plus they do not wish to waste their period. When you have been around for 2 weeks, they will begin providing you with that the "option" to sit down in their spacious houses to allow them. What they're actually asking you to do is sit in a house for three hours that no one will visit, and basically sell it to them, to the off chance that you might receive yourself a client from it. When there are not enough beginners at the office, they will battle over your house-sitting attempts, and might even provide you with money (don't get excited, I am speaking about £ 20.) Get paid '' I never really did get paid for helping someone out. • Hint 3: Everybody you know will feign support whilst questioning your choice along with making fun of you personally. I'm serious, also you know that. You have despised with, didn't you? • Office Aid. You are hated by them. That I met Travis the day, he had been in the middle of a hissy fit because someone had discharged his own Cross pen. As it is not like that they all sell them, it really is understandable. Yes, even they are indeed sold by them at drug stores to get a few bucks. The fit lasted one hour, and added our manager delivering a phone message to each agent in any office to please go back the pen should they had it. Travis also kept a watch on the labels that 1 would use to send out these mailings. To receive them, you had to request the precise number. You can http://edition.cnn.com/search/?text=estate agent find 25 on a sheet and you wouldn't purchase three sheets, if you were printing 6-8 labels. You are hated by them. Referral Reputation usually means that you've stopped the daily mill of trying to sell/buy houses. You get inactive, but in case you stage a person who wants to purchase or sell a house to your real estate business, you get a percentage of their commission. • Mailings. I lucked out with Company Y, so they pay for mailings. This means they offer the marketing materials plus also they pay the postage for a certain total be mailed out. The database of all addresses that you could send mail to has been protected by a Rottweiler at the office, a man I will contact Travis. Travis was exceptionally tan year-round, with hair, also then he had been dressed like a 1970's JC Penny mannequin every day. I bet that his boy turned out, although if he had been gay, idon't understand. This provider that "hired" you'll currently send one to a training "college" (these are organizations that, to get a price, educate you on exactly in regards to the actual estate business and assist you to pass their condition necessary test). This is just two weeks of classes that have little related to the actual career. • totally free journeys! 5 years from today, in the event you overcome function hrs, ALL the odds and then sell whatever you buy close, you may get a complimentary adventure. Don't hold your own breath. I am 1 man. The Realtor's affiliation can be an immense conglomerate that without doubt has lawyers about the payroll. My brotherinlaw is a lawyer...however that I still feel out numbered. That means you're going to notice that I describe real estate agents, not Realtors. Say goodbye to leisure and fun. Here's a week: • Thursday. Nothing is required. Here is the weekend, enjoy. Don't spend money though, there's no necessity it. Real estate offices are continuously list available places, so that it's easy to obtain an interview. Don't be overly nervous, because do you know what? You're hired. This is simply not a meeting, it truly is a Peptalkabout You urinate in the reception and could walk in, you're probably however hired. You did not think anything was free, did you? Here's the rundown on fees: • Saturday. Mandatory education...all freaking day. Done with all the mandatory 15-week education? Start training that reproduces what they instructed you in the 1-5 week training! Ethics rule number1 is "simply receive the list." • Associations. The County Realtor Association. You have to join it. It charges money...each calendar year. Their State Realtor Association. You have to join it. It costs money...each year. The National Realtor Association. You have to combine it. It costs income...each year. Combine this company. Join that company. You are going to secure a magazine, and possibly even a snaredown. It really is absolutely mandatory, and it all costs money. Sometimes they have free cookies in the conferences. • Your website. The business has put a page up to you on their website, you require to fill it with futile points that no one cares about, such as "resident of (our overall area) for many a long time" and Realtor and also "person in (Our County) realestate Club. None of this helps them or youpersonally, but it will not fill the page, even though no one can appear at it. You're able to place up an image there too, if you don't ugly or hideously disfigured. • Signs. Enormous signs, small indications, plastic signs, steel signs, name signs, for sale signs, open house indications. You have to have them, you have to cover these, and so they cost tens of thousands of dollars. CHAPTER 5: THE "Old Timers" I am convinced it is very different in YOUR area though, and so they're letting you know that the truth once they state so... You're going to soon be asked to alienate every one by begging for referrals, you understand and create situations. Parties, church, school, the gymnasium - anyplace...that you require to be angling for house customers or house sellers. It is painfully awkward for everybody involved. Don't neglect to utilize the runciman snare that is little anyplace you move! • Sunday. Nomore football matches, household picnics, etc., as you require to sit down in Open Houses. • Licensing. In the event you talk to a actual estate firm before you take the class and acquire licensed, then they'll pay for that course. Well, sort of. They will pay for it, and take the fee back. Wait that paid for this afterward? It's true, you did. You didn't think that was free, did you really? And remember, exclamation points are used by top producers! A Lot of these! In whatever they perform! Only an FYI. I mean: Just an FYI!!!! CHAPTER 9: "ETHICS" (note quote marks) CHAPTER 2: THE Job Interview • Hint 2: There's no salary. Make certain that you have sufficient money in the bank to eat and pay your bills for 6 months. And get started searching for a job that is actual NOW. By the time you buy it, then you will be out of dollars. I landed a spot at a company 6 weeks and one day from the day of my layoff. In case it wasn't for Un Employment, I'd have been surviving in a cardboard box waiting to the property job. • computer systems. Don't know a personal computer? Don't stress, no one else can. Idon't understand just why, however with was dreadful with any tool that is technology-related. They constantly needed assistance with the computer, and the personal computer's were down with a virus of some kind. There are laws that say that while your certification training is still occurring at a Real Estate office, which no 1 from that office may "amuse" you. Expect you'll be recruited. Some of the teachers was a Company X manager and took a distinctive interest. He required me to start open houses at costly homes during the weeks of practice, introduced me to everybody else in any office, took me to lunches and also took me out. The entire time, he spoke about how Business Y (who'd sent me with this practice) was horrible, and also why Company X has been way superior, and definitely the location for me personally. Ethical? No. Fun? Indeed. I still went as it had been the appropriate matter to 20, with the organization that delivered me to the practice.