#unintentional textbook character study

[vergeltvng]

Contains Strong Language, Blood

Tatsächlich schlief der alte Mann den Schlaf der Gerechten um diese unchristliche Uhrzeit, immerhin wurde er ja auch nicht mehr jünger. Seine nächtliche, spontane Besucherin hatte wie damals ihr Gespür für schlechtes Timing nicht eingebüßt. Es ist wie es ist, er würde niemals offen zugeben, nichtmal wenn man drohte ihm was abzuschneiden, dass das Verschwinden eines gewissen Jemands bei ihm durchaus ein paar Spuren hinterlassen hatte. In typischer Manier hatte er die Ereignisse verdrängt und sich anderen Dingen zugewandt. Die BOYS wiederum legten derzeit eine Pause von ihren Tätigkeiten ein und befanden sich im Standby, jeder war halbwegs in sein normales Leben zurückgekehrt und ging persönlichen Angelegenheiten nach. War viel passiert. Vielleicht hatte sie die Nachrichten verfolgt aber selbst wenn nicht, er ließ es jedenfalls ruhig angehen im Moment, erledigte hin und wieder einen Job für Mallory und beließ es dabei. Keine Rachepläne, die er unermüdlich schmiedete und verfolgte, er ließ die Seele baumeln und genoss ein ruhiges Leben? Was war bei ihm verkehrt gelaufen, war er krank oder so? Gar nicht so weit gefehlt aber selbstverständlich nicht der Rede wert wenn es nach ihm ging. Man sah es ihm äußerlich nicht an, dass er etwas nachgelassen hatte im Verlaufe der letzten Monate. Lediglich im Moment fühlte er sich verdammt im Arsch nachdem er geweckt worden war, stand hundemüde in karierten PJs in der offenen Tür und warf einen breiten Schatten auf den Flur. Vor Verschlafenheit erkannte er nicht wer da stand. "Falsche Tür, Liebes." Brummte er die Fremde an, er hielt sie für eine Nachbarin oder sonstwen. Erst dieses leise 'Hey' ließ ihn innehalten und davon absehen, der jungen Frau die Tür vor der Nase zuzumachen, um weiterzuschlafen. Er blinzelte angestrengt und das dunkle Haar irritierte ihn offensichtlich. War das die Kleine, die er kürzlich öfters getroffen hatte? Wenigstens nannte er gerade niemanden beim Namen, das bewahrte ihn wohl vor einem saftigen Tritt in die Eier. Die 'Brünette' schob sich frech durch seine Tür an ihm vorbei und allmählich dämmerte ihm was. Er knurrte ein paar Worte undeutlich in seinen Bart, drehte sich um und ließ die Tür hinter sich zufallen. Sie fühlte sich offenbar ganz wie Zuhause, warf sich auf sein Bett als wäre nie was gewesen. Natürlich erkannte er sie jetzt, stand entgeistert ein paar Meter von ihr entfernt, verschränkte die Arme und musterte sie grimmig. "Und dann denkst du es ist eine gute Idee bei mir aufzutauchen, nachdem du soviel Mist gebaut hast?" Er bezog ihre Aussage ohne Umschweife auf sich. Sein Tonfall fiel sehr kühl aus, nichtmal wütend klang er, nur wie jemand der nicht sehr versöhnlich gestimmt war. "Du lebst, immerhin. Weißt du, ich hab einen Flashback gerade. Ist mir schonmal passiert, dass jemand spurlos verschwand…" Jetzt klang er allerdings deutlich verärgerter als eben, förmlich getriggert von ihrer Unverschämtheit, einfach hier aufzutauchen. Natürlich wusste sie genau wovon er redete. Unfassbar, dass ihm das nochmal jemand antat. Nein, er war absolut nicht in der Stimmung für ein tränenreiches und emotionales Wiedersehen. "Siehst scheiße aus." Charmant wie eh und je. Und die Wahrheit, sie sah elend aus. Der einzige Grund, der ihn davon zurückhielt sie direkt wieder hochkant rauszuwerfen. {...}

Das tat sie mit voller Absicht, nicht wahr? Ihn triggern, mit ihrer plötzlich zuckersüßen Art? Dachte sie seine angestaute Wut würde ihm vom Bauch in den Sack rutschen, wenn sie ihn provozierte? Dummerweise funktionierte das bei ihm meistens, auch wenn er keine Miene verzog als sie nacheinander ein Teil nach dem anderen vor ihm ablegte. Hatte er alles schon mal gesehen und angefasst, was erwartete sie für eine Reaktion von ihm? "Kein Gesprächsbedarf." Kam es ihm übertrieben kühl von den Lippen. "Ich fick dich nicht in der Dusche, ich brech mir doch nicht den Hals um drei Uhr morgens." Setzte er nach aber man musste bei ihm wie gewohnt zwischen den Zeilen lesen, er sagte nur 'nicht in der Dusche'. Sollte sie machen was sie wollte, sie war dann wohl sein Gast für heute Nacht, sonst hätte er sie längst rausgeschmissen. Er verzog die Stirn und schnaufte angestrengt, danach wich ihm fast restlos jegliche Regung aus der Miene, er drehte sich weg und entzog sich ihrer Berührung, es fühlte sich nämlich immer noch gut an wenn sie das tat und sie glaubte doch nicht ernsthaft, dass er jetzt nur eine Sekunde daran verschwenden würde ihr Ego zu streicheln? Statt ihr Aufmerksamkeit zu schenken, bewegte er wortlos seinen Arsch zur Küchenzeile, um den Wasserkessel in Gang zu bringen. Abwarten und Tee trinken erschien ihm wie eine gute Idee, wer weiß wie er auf sie zu sprechen war nachdem er sich in Stille über ihr Auftauchen abreagiert hatte. Kam auch darauf an, welcher Nin er begegnete sobald sie aus der Dusche wieder rauskam, vielleicht war er dann zum reden aufgelegt oder für den Hatefuck des Jahres. {…}

War gut, dass sie sich für ein paar Minuten verpisste, denn ihre flapsige Antwort machte ihn noch wütender. Er würde sie niemals schlagen, das wusste sie, aber er konnte unglaublich herzlos oder verbal grob werden wenn man seine Wutknöpfe drückte mit so aufgesetzter Arglosigkeit. Außerdem könnte er sie immer noch jederzeit vor die Tür setzen, war ihm völlig egal ob sie nackt war oder sonst nirgends hinkonnte. "Hoffe der scheiß Nachbar geht aufs Klo und verpasst dir 'ne Eisdusche." Bellte er ihr hinterher. Klang amüsanter als es gemeint war aber irgendwohin musste er mit dem akuten Zorn und für einen dämlichen Spruch war er sich NIE zu schade. Der Tee half ein paar Minuten später mit dem Vorhaben sich zu beruhigen, zumindest bis sie wieder rauskam. Sie war ein wandelndes, rotes Tuch für ihn und konnte nichts sagen oder tun was ihn schwach machen würde, zumindest auf Gefühlsebene, dort machte er dicht. Es reichte, dass sie seine Aufmerksamkeit zurückgewann als sie sich wie in so einem schlechten Softporno auf seiner Küchenzeile niederließ und ihm damit sogar ein schiefes, unterdrücktes Grinsen halbwegs entlockte. "Die Platte hatte nen Sprung, hab ich verbrannt. Ich hör lieber die Grillen zirpen." Sarkasmus sprach er immer noch fließend, manches änderte sich nie. "Außerdem schmolle ich nicht." Das kam dagegen so überzeugend ernst rüber, dass man ihm fast glauben könnte. Als sie ihn mit dem Fuß anstupste verstand er das als Versuch ihrerseits ihn versöhnlich zu stimmen? Wenn er nicht so verdammt stolz wäre und zu recht angepisst mit ihr bis zum Sanktnimmerleinstag. "Wie kommst du überhaupt auf die Idee, ich könnte mir vor dir die Blöße geben?" Soweit kam er ihr entgegen, kein Stück weiter. Sie hatte ihn vermisst, wollte Nähe, alte Wunden aufreißen, um der guten, alten Zeiten willen? "Wenn du einen Nostalgiefick wünschst, sorg dafür. Als ob ich dir den Gefallen tue wie ein treudoofer Hund zwischen deine Beine zu kriechen, nur weil du mit den Fingern schnippst." {…}

"Ich sagte nicht, dass du einfach gehen kannst." Goss er nun Öl ins Feuer, zudem ließ er sich von niemandem auf der Nase herumtanzen, auch nicht von ihr. Gleichzeitig einer seiner wenigen Knackpunkte, er war nunmal der geborene Kontrollfreak und auf diese Weise erzielte man auch Wirkung bei ihm. Verflucht sei sie dafür bis in alle Ewigkeit, dass sie seine Schwäche so schamlos gegen ihn ausspielte. "Wenn du jetzt abhaust, brauchst du dich nie wieder bei mir blicken lassen." Da klang kein Sarkamus im Unterton durch, er hatte selten etwas so ernst gemeint. Er knallte die Tasse heftig auf die Küchenzeile zurück, brach dabei den Griff ab und verpasste ihr einen Crack. Er schnitt sich tief in die Handfläche als er das Porzellan zerquetschte als wäre es ein lächerlicher Pappbecher. Der dunkle Tee sickerte durch den Schlitz und bildete zusammen mit seinem Blut eine Pfütze um den Tassenboden, bevor alles im dünnen Strahl zu Boden lief. Wenn er sein feines, englisches Teegeschirr zerbrach und der Sache nichtmal groß Beachtung schenkte, war definitiv die Kacke am dampfen. "Ich war royally fucked off als du verschwunden bist letztes Jahr. Hätte nicht gedacht, dass mir jemand ein zweites Mal mit derselben Scheiße wehtut." So, er hats gesagt. "Erst recht nicht du. Zufrieden!? Holst du dir jetzt mental einen runter weil du mich so ficken konntest damit?" Sie hörte ihm besser genau zu, denn das wäre das einzige und letzte Mal, dass sie ungefiltert etwas über seine Gefühle erfuhr, deren Existenz er sowieso danach wieder abstreiten würde bis er eines Tages ins Gras biss.

[whoneedsapublisher]

The Accident

Prompt was "Unintentional". NicoMaki.

Words: ~600

Summary: It starts off with a simple mistake, and then Maki gets a little carried away.

Also on Ao3

***************

It wasn’t like Maki had done it on purpose.

She’d been in a hurry when she was leaving, and she’d just grabbed the bag right next to her, assuming it was hers. She didn’t notice that it wasn’t until she got the text, and by that point she was already home.

Luckily, it was a Saturday, so they could just switch their bags back when they met up tomorrow. But that left Maki without her notes or textbooks for a day. When it came to the time where she would normally do some studying, she reflexively opened the bag on her desk and started taking out notebooks before she realised her mistake.

What she obviously should have done at that point was put everything back and done some composing or read a book when she’d normally be studying, and study a little longer on Sunday. Or at the very least, she should have just flipped through some of Nico’s textbooks to see what was coming in the third year.

Instead, though, she opened one of Nico’s notebooks.

Nico’s notes weren’t as messy as she’d expected. Maybe Nico considered writing her notes to be an extension of her idol persona, considering all the cutesy flourishes on her characters. They were however, laughable sparse in some places. And outright wrong in others.

Taking up her pen, Maki circled an incorrect equation. “It’s I = Q/T, not I = QT” she wrote in the margin, and then paused.

What the heck was she doing?

Whatever. This was all Nico’s fault for moving Maki’s bag around, right? And how could she complain if Maki improved her notes?

And wasn’t helping someone else supposed to be a good way to reinforce your own knowledge?

So Maki flipped through a few more pages. And a few more. There were plenty of things she hadn’t learned yet, but she could still catch addition errors and misspellings, and all sorts of problems in the English notes.

When her timer went off, Maki closed the notebook that she’d been correcting and let out a satisfied sigh. See? She’d still found a way to study, even without her textbooks. An evening well spent.

As she went to pack Nico’s bag back up, she paused with the last notebook in her hand.

It was the Japanese Literature one. Nico had butchered a few metaphors, but there was one part that had stuck in Maki’s mind.

Flipping back to an early page, she made a quick note, and then slammed the notebook shut and jammed it back into the bag before she could think about it any more.

She should be getting ready for bed. Enough playing around.

***************

“She vandalized my notebooks, Nozomi!”

Nozomi rolled her eyes, glancing down at Nico’s poor ruined notes, marred by Maki’s ugly red pen.

“All of these corrections are right, Niccochi,” she said. “Honestly, I didn’t think your notes would be in such a state…”

“My notes are fine!” Nico said defensively. “So what if I miswrote something, I remember what I meant!”

Nozomi looked at her skeptically.

Nico sighed in frustration. She should have known that Nozomi would side with that little felon, just because her grades were a little bit better than  Nico’s…

Continuing to check out the extent of the damage, she flipped through her Japanese Lit book and frowned.

“See?” she said, holding it up to show Nozomi the page. “This one she didn’t even correct anything, she just added one! I already had a perfectly good list of famous phrases, and she’s added this dumb one.”

Nozomi glanced at the page.

There, beneath Nico’s carefully copied quotes was written “The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?”

[studythenight-away]

Hey y’all! I’ve gotten a few messages asking how I use Anki to study Korean so I thought I’d make a post. I’m by no means an expert but I’ve found a way that works for me that will hopefully help some of you get started!

Things to note:

Got to do it every day

Because it’s so repetitive, whenever I do this in bed I fall asleep. Make it fun, say things out loud, and maybe sit in a chair!

Decks

It’s better not to use too many decks because at that point you’d be attempting to do Anki’s job for it. For example, if you have 10 decks and decide to study one each day, you’re essentially spacing your repetition yourself. Instead, you should study all 10 decks together and have Anki show you the cards that should be reviewed that day.

Shared Decks

I found a deck called “1000 korean simple sentences” online but honestly I’m not really a fan of them because making the cards themselves is part of the learning process. Plus, you’ll never know if there was an unintentional mistake in the cards and end up learning a word incorrectly. However, if you’re in a rush or you just need something to get you started, these are great. Some of them even come with the hanja characters, sample sentences, and audio.

My Decks

Below the shared deck you can see all my decks. I always only study with the main Korean deck. However, I like to make subdecks for each of my textbooks or different ways of studying so I know the source of a word is. Sometimes that context helps me remember a word better and also makes it easier to manage the 1300+ cards.

Settings

Some of this still makes very little sense to me, but for the most part the default settings on Anki will work just fine. Here’s a brief explanation for the four things I think are worth playing around with to find what works for you.

Steps (in minutes): This is how many minutes will pass after the first time you see the word before it graduates to the next level. So the first time you see a new word, you have the option of Hard (1 min), Good (x min), and Easy (4 days). If you press “good”, the word will pop up again in that # of minutes. If you get it right again, it graduates to a review word and you see it less frequently. The default is “1 10″ which means 10 minutes. I changed it to 120 minutes because if I’m studying 100 new words and have to review them each again within 10 minutes, it’ll take forever. This way I can review the words again later on in the day. You can also add as many steps as you want. For example: (1 10 120 480) means that you will have to mark a card as “good” four times before it becomes a review card, once as a new card, again in 10 minutes, then 2 hours, then 8 hours. *Note: don’t freak out and add too many steps because if you get the word wrong after it becomes a review word, you’ll go through the steps again!

New cards/day: I just put 9999 because I want to be able to see every new card I add to my deck the day that I add it

Graduating interval: Once you finish the steps (see #1), this is number of days before you’ll see the card again as a review card. Some people like to increase the number of days, but I think for vocab 1 day is perfectly fine. I tend to forget words that I learn by the next day anyway, so any longer of a gap might be counterproductive.

Easy interval: If you mark a card as “easy”, it’ll come up again in this number of days. I suggest you not mark cards as easy unless you really know them because more review is always better. I accidentally marked cards as “easy” way too often when I first started, and now I realized that I have cards that won’t be reviewed for 2.6 years?!? Oops. So stick to marking cards as good or hard until you feel you could delete that card from your deck and be fine.

So What’s on the Cards?

For most cards, I just do Korean on one side (dictionary form) and English on the other. It doesn’t matter which one is which because you can choose which side of the card you see first. I always see the English first and think of the Korean. But there’s other things you can include! Definitely customize for each word. You don’t need to include everything for every card if you don’t need it.

 [ ] is for those tricky 받침 changes that often changes the pronunciation.

( ) is for the conjugations that I struggle to remember. Sometimes irregular verbs, sometimes just verbs that look strange.

There are also often words that I wouldn’t know how to use in conversation if I just see on a flashcard, so for those I include one or two examples. On the left is an example of a word that doesn’t really make sense to me when I just look at the English - left undone? delayed? But the example sentences clear things up. On the right is a word whose meaning is clear but not the usage.

Final Thoughts

I really hope this helps some of you! The key is just to use Anki every day to best take advantage of its system. If you have any questions, please message me! If you’d just like a study buddy, also message me :) Happy studying!

[azaablue]

for the last five pics thing:

aang’s last five pics are DEFINITELY katara (both posed and candid) and momo

katara’s are aang asleep w appa and being a complete idiot with sokka bc she thought it was funny

suki’s are self-timer pics with the other kyoshi warriors and stupid selfies with sokka

sokka’s are all sorts of stuff- pics with friends, a video he took in lab once, tiktoks he saved to send to zuko bc zuko won’t download it, funny stuff he saved, and ofc a screenshot of his google calendar. yknow. just in case it won’t load

toph’s are all screenshots. mostly unintentional but she’s too stubborn to delete them. also a pic of a rock she can’t see but sokka said was cool. it may or may not actually be a rock

zuko’s are mostly pics of homework/textbooks/study guides with a couple selfies friends and uncle iroh took when they stole his phone when he was in the bathroom. he says he hates it but still leaves his phone at the table at the jasmine dragon bc he secretly wants it to happen again bc he likes the pics of his friends!

azula’s camera roll is empty and it’s creepy af

HAAAA wait I love this so much!!! That feels very spot on for each character! And azula- amazing

[the1rei]

Little Moments: Reboot Chapter Three: Going Home and Going Back to Normal Are Two Very Different Things By  Ericobard and shadows59 Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Fandom: Ben 10 Series Relationship: Ben Tennyson/Gwen Tennyson Some Additional Tags: Bullying, No proofreading, Family is Drama, Long burn

Textbooks can't compete with spellbooks.  Studying can't compare with experimentation.  Rules can't compare to trust.  No one can compare to Ben.  

Read my review below:

While mostly unchanged, Shadows59 still slips in parts to not only extend the chapter needlessly but also add more of the worse things that come with the reboot.  In the blurb about rituals, there are more cut off sentences than complete ones and half-mentions of sex. There is a lot of sex added into this story that is, thus far, about the relationship between ten and eleven-year-olds.

There's a large section added where Lili is being a dragon mom. This needlessly makes her seem mean; her strictness was adequately expressed in the original.  

The decision to signify a person talking through the phone by italicizing their dialogue is a poor one. Mainly because when Shadows59 then wants to emphasize something the person with italicized dialogue, they have to return it to normal text, which doesn't stand out as well. What is the benefit of italicizing dialogue this way? It is as if Shadows59 is worried the reader will suddenly forget the character is on the phone if their text isn't stylized.

The change of the math they were studying seemed insignificant to me at first, but I decided to look up in which grade fractions and pre-algebra were taught. Fractions, particularly multiplication and division, are taught in sixth grade, the grade which Ben and Gwen are currently in. Pre-algebra is usually taught in eighth grade, the grade the two of them were in when Breaking Point stopped. This is one of several indications that Shadows59, despite writing younger versions of the characters, still thinks of them as those older characters. That goes a long way to explain why Shadows59 has and will continue to, in future chapters, add elements of sex into their story. Elements that would be understandable and more acceptable with characters even just a few years older, but are not so acceptable in this story. Shadows59 probably doesn't realize what they are doing; the changes are unintentional but telling.

-Ericobard The Azmuth logs are pointless but harmless.  They'd be cut out of any decent novel, but I can't fault anyone for enjoying them. 

(As always, please go leave Shadows59 a nice positive review he won’t delete.)

[phantomphangphucker]

A Bottle Of Rum Named Chuckles - Phic Phight

Prompt Creator: @bibliophileap Prompt: A sibling is genuinely disconcerted by another sibling’s laughter. Summary: The Fenton parents are out of town so Danny gets his drink on, but he's a laughing drunk and Jazz comes home from university a little too early.

Warnings: Drinking, alcohol, unintentional self-harm, broken bones, impaling, blood, one instance of vore, Danny is very drunk

also on my AO3 at GothMoth.

Danny glides smoothly down the steps, today’s a day with the house to himself. Jazz? Off at college. Mom and dad? 4-day convention. Sam and Tucker? Well, they’re not really friends anymore. So today’s a day to himself, a rare one at that. So as Danny saunters over to the fridge he sticks his hand straight through the floor pulling out a bottle of rum. Spinning the bottle in one hand as he opens up the fridge and grabs some milk. Placing the bottle on the table, Danny turns around and goes to make himself some cereal, but is suddenly struck by an idea. Spinning back around, bowl of dry cereal in hand, Danny cracks open the rum and pours it into the bowl. “Hey if cheesepuff bacon smoothies are great, this ought to be better.”.

Halfway through his cereal he’s finding it hard to keep eating through his giggling. “It’s just” chuckle “god so” chuckle “like look at the fuck rocks man” chuckle. Rum cereal abandoned, Danny wanders the yard pointing at random rocks and wobblingly arranging them in poorly laid out constellations. Laughing and grinning he flops on the grass surrounded by his rock stars.

Eventually, the hot sun forces him inside as he opts to play some games. Not being bothered enough to move them from his room, he plays up there instead. He doesn’t really play Doom anymore, he’s more into single player stuff now. He does however, take the bottle of rum with him. After a few hours, Danny is solidly fucked up, so much so that he doesn’t hear his sister coming home early. She does however, hear some creepy ass giggling ringing throughout the house. “Christ did someone stuff one of those broken demon Elmo dolls into the walls or something?”. Jazz moves around methodically trying to find the sound just as Danny burst out into another fit of laughs and giggles. He managed to get a famous glitch in his game, one where the characters limbs and head fly and stretch out all over the screen. In his laughter Danny accidentally crushes the rum bottle against his chest, splashing the little remaining rum and glass all over himself. “Aw man....” Danny goes to stand but immediately pitches forwards slamming face first into his wall. Laughing even more erratically, cause he can see himself in the door mirror, Danny just slowly slides down to the floor. Laying in a heap of limbs and laughs.

Jazz meanwhile is standing awkwardly on the other side of his door, somewhat in shock. At first, she thought there was some weird new ghost after Danny but after listening close, “the ghost in you sure shows in funny ways” Jazz mutters quietly. With a soft though unnerved smile on her face Jazz goes back downstairs, looking to make herself some toast but promptly notices the milk jug and very disgusting looking half-eaten cereal. “What the hell was that made with?” She grumbles at the offending cereal, well aware of Danny’s strange taste, as she puts the milk away. “I wonder if his ghost half has anything to do with his tastes” she taps her finger on her chin and shudders, as yet more booming laughter erupts from upstairs. She elects to smell the cereal for clues rather than taste it, cause Plasmius knows what’s in there. Jerking back she realizes that whatever it is, it’s definitely alcoholic. “Where’d you even get that little brother and why” she shakes her head as she goes up to confront Danny. Whom she’s now certain is laughing so much because he’s drunk. And she’s totally right on that part.

Meanwhile, Danny has been intentionally flinging himself around his room, trying to land it the most awkward and absurd positions possible. He’s so utterly plastered that he never even notices all the glass from the rum bottle embedded in his chest, making him bleed profusely. Him flinging himself around isn’t helping either. And his future self will not thank him later for the massive amounts of blood smears everywhere. Not to mention all the knock over things and glass. Eventually, he winds up leaning against the mirror on his door making faces at it and smearing his face around. Resulting in many muffled giggles.

Jazz, standing in front of Danny’s door can actually smell the alcohol through the door now. Scratching her nose she swings the door open, catching Danny totally unprepared as he staggers backwards; straight out the window. Running over to the window she looks down and sees Danny laughing his ass off on the ground covered in blood and glass. She physically shivers from the combination of Danny’s demonic ass laughter and the visuals.

Jazz bolts all the way down the steps and outside, running up to Danny who’s now standing up and wobbling all over the place. Seeing Jazz he shouts “is afff uckin airy! Whooooo!” Throwing his hands up in the air, Jazz runs over and hooks an arm under his right armpit. “Danny what the hell, let’s get you inside before anyone sees” Danny lightly giggles “leds meh to dis lits airy”. Jazz practically has to drag Danny into the house as he flips between muttering about fairies, or “ariy” as he’s calling them, and laughing. Effectively, slowly unnerving Jazz more and more; as well as making her unimpressed with his drunken state. Jazz sets him down at the table and points at the half-eaten rum cereal. “Just how much have you had Danny?” She asks in an unimpressed tone but she’s to creeped out to sound threatening. The only response she gets from Danny is “Is callied it Chuckles” then he sticks his hands out spreading them apparent vertically to about the high of his rum bottle. Jazz isn’t quite sure what he means for a second but then pinches the bridge of her nose. “Christ Danny, and what was it exact-” Jazz gets cut off by the sight of Danny pulling somebody horror shit, spreading his mouth inhumanly wide and straight voreing the entire bowl whole. Rum, cereal, spoon, bowl and all. Jazz having never bared witness to his body horror crap nearly vomits, which causes Danny to go into another fit of laughter. She sickly looks over the counter at him as he laughs himself so hard he falls off the stool. “Ok, now your creepy laugh is also pissing me off. I’m creep out, disgusted, disturbed and angry all at once.” Jazz shakes herself off and tries to push away the lingering shivers Danny’s laugh sends across her skin.

Danny starts crawling forwards on the floor but Jazz rushes over and sits him up on his knees. “Don’t do that” she scolds “you’ll rip yourself up more and-” looking down at the floor “-dear god... make more of a mess”. Turning her head away from Danny, arms still on his shoulders, she mutters “how the hell am I going to clean this up”. Danny chuckles slurring “clench ‘n exbird outwash fix erry”. Jazz just stares at him, “ok, I got bleach but the rest is lost on me”. Danny just shouts “exbird outwash!”. “Danny, what even is that?” Jazz sighs exasperatedly, as Danny starts making gargling sounds but then chokes on his spit. Resulting in yet more laughter. “Einstein, lend me your strength” Jazz groans as she jerks away from the sound of Danny’s laugh.

Eventually, she manages to get Danny sitting upright. Slowly pulling out shards of glass, though Danny is not making that easy. Danny’s rolling his head all over the place, occasionally flailing his arms around, and talking mostly gibberish, interspaced with giggles and laughter. “Danny, I will tail you for a week and throw psychology terms at you, if you ever even consider getting wasted around people who don’t know about this ghost shit.”. Finishing her threat with flawless timing as Danny straight up phases through the floor. Jazz, sighing, gets up to walk down to the lab. Looking around she fails to see him till she hears his wild creepy giggles coming from the ceiling. Looking up she sees Danny dangling with one foot still stuck in the ceiling. “Imma uckin chandii!”. Sighing “ yes Danny you are definitely a chandelier, for sure, 100%”. Danny just shouts “yay!” As he swings his hands up towards the ceiling smashing them so hard Jazz hears cracking and Danny, with a chunk of the ceiling, crashes to the ground. She stares at Danny and mutters “you could kill a many without a second thought and I don’t even think you’d notice the impact...”. Just as Danny rights himself, smashing apart the other bits of ceiling. Which suddenly brings Danny’s fingers into view. “Oh my god Danny, you freaking broke your fingers”. Deciding she’s had enough, Jazz digs through the lab until she finds what she’s looking for. An Ecto-shield blanket, “mom and dad say it’s for keeping out mosquito ghost but it should make a fine Danny burrito”. Jazz walks up behind Danny and quickly wraps the blanket around him. Danny just squirms, falls to his side and starts flopping about like a fish. Sighing Jazz grabs the Fenton fisher anti-ghost fishing line. Line in hand she picks up Danny and walks up to his bedroom. “You need to eat more Danny, and real food not junk food. My textbooks weigh more than you.”. Once in Danny’s room, she ties him to his bed headrest with the ecto-line. Danny naws at it while giggling and making exaggerated chewing and biting sounds.

Jazz attempts to study while she watches her brother and waits for him to sober up. But it’s difficult with all the usual sounds, gibberish and increasingly disturbing laughter. “God, it’s like it gets more and more unnerving the more you hear it”. She mutters into her book, trying her damnest to focus without completely ignoring her inebriated brother.  Eventually, she gives up on that endeavour and elects to inspect the glass she’s managed to get out of Danny’s chest. Fully expecting it to be window glass, she’s shocked to find it's from a bottle. Sticking a few pieces together she realizes it’s from a bottle of rum, high proof rum at that. “Danny what the hell?! How did you even get this! Mom and dad don’t even like rum!”. The only response she gets out of Danny is more giggling. “And how long has this glass even been in your chest! Did you drink the whole thing!” Danny giggles enthusiastically which Jazz takes as a yes. “Danny! That would kill a full grown man!”. This time she actually gets a response out of the drunken lad “Tis tooo lats, ta jib allreds don.”. Jazz groans leaning back in her chair, “even wasted enough to kill a normal person you still make death jokes”.

Things continue on like this for a while till Danny eventually starts to slightly sober up. Which takes an impressive, and scary to Jazz, single hour. “Wyys my handz harts” Rolling his head around “and wyts wit blankie?”. Jazz snorts as she walks over to him, “little bro, you smashed your hands into the ceiling”. Looking up at her, his head limp, “wyys i dos dat?”. Shaking her head, “I really don’t know Danny but it might have something to do with thinking you were a chandelier.”. Danny just looks more confused now, but Jazz, noting his limpness unties him from the headrest and lays him down in bed. “I think you best just sleep, little brother and please, no more laughing”. Danny just tiredly sticks his tongue out at her. Jazz falls asleep herself, knees folded on the ground with her head resting on Danny’s bed.

—Next Morning—

Danny wakes up to a whole lotta pain. “What the...” He trails off as he pushes his blanket off himself, yanking his hands back hissing. “Fuck me” Danny mutters as he looks at his hands, nearly every bone is broken or chipped and his advanced healing has only fucked his fingers up more. Healing them incorrectly in almost every way, “how did I even? and how am I supposed to fix this?”. Then looking down at his chest he groans “seriously? Did I get into a boxing match with a bunch of mirrors or something”. Swinging his legs out of bed he walks to his mirror. He’s peppered in bruises, some that are extremely weird. He has bits of drywall in his hair as well. Shaking his hair out he turns to take in his room and just stares. Half his shit is on the floor or on the opposite side of the room than where it started. Blood is smeared almost everywhere, bits of glass are stabbed in the walls, his window is destroyed and there’s both ecto-line and an ecto-shield blanket on the floor. “Yeah I’m just not going to deal with this now, or possibly ever” Danny mutters as he opens his door with his mouth, keeping his hands up around his chest not quite touching though. As he descends the stairs he’s already thinking of ways to easily just hide the mess but once he reaches the living room his mind blanks. “Oh fuck” he breathes out, seeing a long blood streak on the floor, some glass and bigger bits of drywall.

Danny stares down at his hands, and that’s how Jazz finds him when she steps out of the kitchen. Mop in hand Jazz watches Danny as he stares at his hands muttering to himself, looking horrified. Danny slowly lifts his head up and just mutters at Jazz “what the fuck”.

Inside his head, Danny is just screaming over and over again, because she should not be here and there’s a massive really bad looking mess and he was completely wasted and -. Jazz cuts off his thoughts as she answers him “I don’t really know Danny, you were so messed up I could barely understand anything you said. You called me an “airy”, ate an entire bowl whole, punched a hole in the ceiling while pretending to be a chandelier I think, flung yourself out your window, and I think you stabbed yourself with a bottle of rum.”. Danny just stares at her, his mouth hanging open, so Jazz elects to continue “you were already covered in blood and glass when I got here and there was a bowl of cereal mixed with, what I assumed was, rum. Seriously Danny what the hell and where did you get rum?”. Danny just mutters “uhhhh from the floor”. Jazz crosses her arms “Danny, that makes about as much sense as whatever-” clearing her throat to attempt the make the freakish sounds Danny made “-exbird outwash fix erry” is.”. Danny shakes his head “Wow, sounds like I had fun”. At Jazz’s highly unimpressed face, Danny goes to run a hand across the back of his neck but winces instead. Eyeing Jazz again, he goes for a more serious response. “I guess I’d need context for those, uh, words? And I literally got it from the floor. The bottle was inside the floor.” Danny looks away sheepishly. “You mean to tell me you hid booze in the floor?” Arms crossed stiffly. “Heh, yeah” Danny shrugs “wasn’t really expecting anyone home so soon.”. He finishes. “Clearly, if that had been anyone who didn’t know about you, you’d be in massive trouble. I’m pretty sure you drank the entire thing, which should have been deadly. That combined with everything else...” Jazz trails off as Danny waves a mutilated hand at her “ya ya I get it, I’m lucky it was you”. Jazz sighs grabbing her mop again, “I would tell to help but I know your injured, are your hands going to heal fine?” She asks laced with genuine concern as she starts mopping the blood streaked on the floor. “Well, first you might want some of my hidden mouth wash”. Jazz stares at him “ok what?...is that what you said earlier?!”. Danny shrugs “maybe, expired mouth wash is pretty good as a cleaner”. Danny jumps up through the ceiling startling Jazz, he returns the same way. Flicking a bottle of mouth wash at her, that he was previously held by the cap in his mouth. Jazz, mixing it on the floor, “oh wow that’s just plain weird and I don’t even want to know how you discovered this”. “Yup” Danny says curtly as he looks around for any other damage. “So, your hands?” Danny snaps his head back to her, “Uhh well I’ll have to re-break, like, everything and place it all back the way it’s supposed to be but it should be fine, I think.” Danny says awkwardly. “Danny, Christ, how are you even ok with doing that, none the less how are you going to do it with both hands messed up?” Jazz glares at him, still mopping. Shrugging “uh painfully?”. “Oh my god, Danny.”

Danny sidestepping her gets a bowl, cereal and milk all out with a combination of footwork and his mouth; Jazz watching him all the while as she mops. “That better actually be milk and I’m rather concerned by how good you are at that”. Sitting on the table top Danny pours the milk with his toes. “You’re going to be pissed if I tell you “practice” aren’t you?” Glaring at him as he sits down with his cereal, eating by scooping his tongue around. “Of course, you shouldn’t have a reason to be used to it.”. Danny grunting, “well I do, resident superhero ghost boy here”. Jazz chuckles lightly, which reminds her of something, “hey Danny, has anyone ever told you your laugh is extremely creepy and unnerving?”. Danny coughs on a couple of frootloops, “What? No, why?” Chuckling again Jazz shakes her head “you were laughing, giggling and chuckling like your life depended on it. Genuine laughter too, but for whatever reason, it was spine chilling.” Pausing to look at Danny “you sounded like a demonic broken Elmo doll”. At that Danny chuckles deeply a bit “seriously?”. “Yeah, you even laughed as I tried to fix your wounds and you laughed really hard when you fell out your window and crash into the yard.” Danny chuckling again, Jazz noting that it actually is still slightly creepy but nothing close to before. “Wow that’s got to say something about me, don’t go analyzing me though.”. Rolling her eyes “I’m more focused on fixing your mess Danny, the lab is literally missing a third of its ceiling and I had to tie you to your own bed.”. Danny goes wide-eyed laughing, “so that's why there’s ecto-line on the floor.”. Jazz just shakes her head as Danny continues more seriously “was my laugh all creepy just now?”. Jazz pauses “slightly I guess but nothing like last night. It was like the more you laughed the more completely disturbed I felt. Now your laugh just has the same slight offness it usually does.” Danny looks incredulously at her. Noticing she sighs and stands up, one hand in her hip “Danny, basically everything about you is slightly off or creepy. But it’s so minimal you really have to pay attention to notice at all. And paying attention to you is my sisterly duty.”. Danny rolls his eyes but visibly relaxes some, “geez thanks.”. Jazz sighs as she heads down to the lab to collect the ceiling debris. On her way coming back up she hears cracking sounds. “Hey, Danny what are you doing?”. The cracking stops “uh, fixing my fingers”. Jazz just sighs.

End.

[serensama]

To Realise

A mini celebration for 2000 followers! Thanks Everyone!!!! A Soulmate AU where they only realise they are Soulmates when they say/read/hear each other’s names out loud followed by an immediate overflowing of emotion sparking inside of them. Instant realisation.

Yoosung:

-       He was already running late. This was not the first impression he wanted to give to everyone! He was in University! He was intelligent! He knew how to set a simple alarm!

-       … in theory yes, in practise… not so much… hence the lateness…

-       It also didn’t help that he couldn’t remember which lecture theatre he was meant to be in- which meant he had to stop and scan for his name at each door on the floor… four down three to go…

-       Kim Yoosung… Kim Yoosung… Kim… nope not that room!

-       When he got to the final room (because of course it had to be the final room) he managed to find his name… but his eyes were mysteriously drawn to another name, his mouth wrapping itself around the syllables before he knew what he was doing…

-       “M… MC?”

-       His heart felt like it was about to leap out of his chest, his knees went wobbly and his head felt light and fuzzy, yet so damn clear at the same time. Yoosung stilled himself, bracing his arms against the doorframe to insure he wouldn’t fall flat on his face.

-       What was happening to him?

-       He had never felt this way before- was he coming down with something? He touched the back of his hand against his forehead and sure enough he was warm and sweaty.

-       Though, granted, it could have been because he had been running for the last fifteen minutes and trying not to burst out crying because he was going to be late- not because he was sick and dying.

-       His stomach fluttered and his mouth ran dry… no, he must be getting sick. Maybe he shouldn’t have eaten that pizza that was left over… from three days ago. He really needed to start cooking more.

-       Yoosung clamped his eyes shut and forced himself to breathe deeply, he could get through this. It was only one hour. He could do this.

-       Opening the door, the newly blonde haired student waltzed into the theatre only to have the entire room turn to face him.

-       Great. He must have been later than he thought he was.

-       Only to have them all shrug and continue on with their conversations.

-       Yoosung turned to his left to where their professor was meant to be standing, only to see it empty- the teacher was late? He wasn’t the last one to class? Finally! He managed to catch a break!

-       Running a hand through his sweat soaked hair and laughing as he wiped his palm on his jeans, Yoosung shook his head at how stupid he was to worry so much… besides, chiding himself made it easier to forget the uneasy feeling coursing through his veins.

-       It wasn’t a bad sensation, just… different. Good. Like little bubbles of pure emotion streaming through his blood. Why he felt happy and excited and nervous all at the same time…  he didn’t know. Weirdest case of food poisoning he ever had that was for sure-

-       He began to scan the rows of seats for the easiest spot to slip into and found one close to the middle just on the aisle without anyone sitting in between him and the girl on the other side, the really pretty girl laughing with her friends…

-       Yoosung pressed his blunt nails into the flesh of his palm to wake himself up from his unintentional staring. He took in a bolstering breath and psyched himself up just so he could sit down, it’s not like the cute girl had noticed him or his existence or anything. It would be fine.

-       Edging into the chair and adjusting the fold up side table he began to unpack his books and pens, only for his latest guide for LOLOL to slip out from between his textbooks.

-       The girl next to him caught sight of the bright colours from the side of her eye and turned around, her eyes focused on the cover of the magazine before they shot up to look him in the eye.

-       She was stunning. And she looked disgusted with him.

-       “Tsk, another one of those computer geeks who do nothing but sit in their dark little apartments and fall in love with fictional characters,” she sneered as her friends cackled behind her… clearly none of them had grown up any since graduating from high school. Yoosung sighed and was about to shyly excuse himself when-

-       “Yeah, that’s right! We sit in our apartments and fall in love with fictional characters who still have far more depth and strength of character in one pixel than you could ever have in your entire being… Girl- did you regress into your 7th grade form over the holidays after graduating- it’s cool if you did, I’d like to study you for my psychology lab- I’ll entitle it, ‘Dumb bitch, scared and out of her league, forgets how to act like a decent human being.’ Know what? Just leave- you’re not appreciated here- we wouldn’t want to infect you with our geekiness.”

-       Yoosung turned around to see a girl with big earphones and an even bigger hoodie sitting forward giving the first (not so cute anymore) girl the most menacing glare he had ever seen, bar the ones his mother wielded.

-       The group of girls huffed and tried to retort under their breaths before packing up and moving rows.

-       Headphones girl clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth as she made up her mind; she slung her cross-body bag over her shoulder as she clambered over the seats to sit next to Yoosung. The girl slightly winded from her almost-argument and her repositioning, offered the blonde boy a crooked grin- one he returned without hesitation.

-       “So… LOLOL boy- you gonna let me look at that guide? I was meaning to pick one up today after class but since you have one right here…” she eluded as she quirked one eyebrow up to test if he caught her drift. He did. He handed her the guide.

-       “H-hey… thanks for before… I didn’t know what I should say, if I should say anything at all-” “No sweat LOLOL boy-” “Hahah are you going to call me that forever?” he asked, laughing as he rubbed the back of his neck.

-       The girl eyed him critically from behind the pages of the guide.

“Pretty much, yes.”

Yoosung chuckled as he twirled his pen through the tips of his fingers, happy to feel the earlier wash of illness and emotion wane into nothing but a sense of peace and calm. “Well, can I at least have a name to call you? Butt-Kicking Classmate is kind of a mouthful.” “And yet so apt-” “Yes I understand this but-”

-       “MC. My name is MC.”

The waning was nothing but the calm before the storm, the eye of the tornado- and Yoosung was the poor cow stuck up 1000 feet in the air and she… she was the tornado. The boy sat back as he burnt up, his cheeks flaring as he bit his lip to not shout out from the sheer heat that he endured. Why did this happen every time he heard her name? Or said her name? Or even thought of her name? It was infuriating! “What should I call you if not LOL-” “Yoosung. Kim… Kim Yoosung.”

-       He had heard a soft gasp from behind the pages of the guide and he didn’t miss the way her hands trembled, or how wide her eyes had become. Slowly but steadily, MC drew the magazine down past her chin until her entire face was visible to him… that fluttering in his stomach, that fuzzy but clear feeling- it all came rushing back one hundred-fold.

-       “Yoosung… Kim… you say?” she asked, her once confident voice all but whispered.

-       He had never heard his name sound so beautiful.

-       “Yes, Yoosung Kim…” he confirmed with the smallest of nods of his head, watching as she swallowed some saliva and captivated in the way her throat moved as she did so. He was entranced by the way her mouth seemed to want to do a thousand different things, smile, talk, laugh, scream… so damn expressive.

-       MC clicked her tongue once more as she was wont to do when she made an important decision and put the guide back down on his desk before leaning forward, completely invading his personal space. Not that he was complaining. In fact… she could invade it more. It didn’t seem close enough.

-       “Yoosung Kim… I’ve been looking for you, for a long time,” she smiled, her warm hand resting atop his, a flash of electricity passing through their touch. “You have? Why? I’m just me, little old Yoosung…”

-       She threw her head back and laughed and to him it sounded like bells chiming.

-       “Yes, you are little old Yoosung, but from today - you are my little old Yoosung…” she pointed out as her pointer finger booped him firmly on the tip of his nose. “Well if I’m yours, th-then you’re mine!” he answered his chest puffing out slightly- why had he said that? When did he become so damn brazen? Was he going crazy?

“Hahaha, duh! If you’re my Soulmate then I’m your Soulmate- so of course I’m yours!”

“….. Soul… soul what?”

-       His parents had never told him anything about Soulmates, didn’t prepare him for what was to come. He was hit by a truck and completely floored.

-       The truck was named MC. He didn’t want to get up.

-       “Care to explain?”

-       MC stared at him completely dumbfounded, her mouth agape and her eyes even wider than before. She inhaled and nodded, resigning herself to the fact that the love of her life was completely innocent and that she did indeed have to teach him everything.

-       It was going to be so much fun.

-       “You see when a man and a woman love each other very much-” “MC I KNOW ABOUT SEX I WANT TO KNOW ABOUT SOULMATES!” he hissed loud enough for the two rows surrounding them to snigger at. “Sex? Who said anything about sex? Geez, I say soulmate and you’re already trying to get into my pants-” “MC!” he whined, his amethyst eyes large and pleading. Of course, she acquiesced.

-       “Forever Yoosung. It means that you and me, until death do us part, no matter what… it’s me and you.”

-       He took a moment to process this, that he had literally no choice in who he fell in love with- that fate intervened and made sure that he had someone to love and someone to love him in return for the rest of his life… it was just so much to take in…

-       MC entwined her fingers with his when she noticed what she assumed was struggle painted on his face. This, he was going to have this, forever.

-       It didn’t matter that he had just met the girl, that he knew nothing about her- his body knew before he did. He already loved her.

-       He smiled and squeezed her hand back.

-       “Okay… I think I’m okay with that.”

Zen:

-       His first motion picture…

-       He was beside himself. He couldn’t believe that his agent had managed to get him this part! It was meant for a more well-known leading man and an unknown actress but they had fallen in love with how well he had read for the part and how well his headshots looked against the actress’s.  

-       He hadn’t been told who they had chosen, it wasn’t like it really mattered at the end of the day- the girl was an unknown, fresh faced and new in the show business role. She had never acted a day in her life but the casting director had seen her on the street and she had just the aesthetic he was after- it was just pure dumb luck that she was natural at acting.

-       He had planned to talk to her at the read through but she had lost her voice and couldn’t attend… it wasn’t until they were both there for the first physical run through of the scenes that they actually met…

-       “Oh hi! You must be-” “Yeah! You’re the actress playing MC right?-”

-       He didn’t get to finish his sentence, nor did she.

-  ��    She was whisked off to fit some costumes and he… he couldn’t breathe.

-       The moment he said MC, his lips started to tingle and an odd buzzing sound rang in his ears. His cheeks felt flushed and his heart beat raced. He couldn’t understand… he had said that name more than a thousand times whilst reading the script, not once did he ever feel that way. It must have been her. Seeing her and her face must have just solidified his character’s feelings inside him of course. That must be what it was.

-       When she finally returned and they shook hands he could have sworn that he felt his own heartbeat beating in time with hers, palm to palm, one solid beat.

-       Damn it he needed to focus and not get too lost into the character… his character was the love-sick fool not him! He was a professional! He had only met this girl! He-he

-       … she had the most beautiful smile he had ever seen in his life.

-       FOCUS!

-       He had to thank whatever it was running through his system because he had never felt more “on” than at that moment. Every line he delivered to her felt authentic and organic, like he truly meant it. Looking around it was obvious that everyone else on set agreed, absolutely transfixed on the couple centre stage.

-       He could feel every word she was saying to him like it was scripture; that every word of love and devotion that she spoke had the power to let him walk on air… and god he really wanted to try.

-       …

-       He must have been a better actor than even he gave himself credit for, making himself believe that he was already half in love with the woman in front of him…

-       He didn’t even want to stop rehearsing until the Director had called out three times for them to finish up, he was just a ball of energy and wanted nothing more than to release that through this amazing acting he and this actress were performing, he didn’t want to lose momentum.

-       He didn’t want to lose what he was feeling…

-       “H-Hey! MC! Did you want to go and get some lunch with me?” he had asked before realising that he had called her by her character’s name. He felt the blood flood his cheeks as he forced himself not to slap himself or just die from embarrassment. He couldn’t be that far gone into this role to already be thinking of her as her character… this is how idiots fall in love with co-stars… “I’m so sorry, habit, I didn’t mean to call you MC-”

“And why not? It’s my name too,” she smiled as she rested her hand on his bicep, the muscle there twitching instinctively under her touch.

-       Shit.

-       Zen was no fool. He knew what this meant. He knew, deep down, that he wasn’t that good of an actor to fool himself- damn it- he was already half in love.

-       The only half evidently. She seemed completely unaffected… unless… had she said his name yet? No, she hadn’t. Only his character’s name!

-       “How silly of me! All this time I’ve never introduced myself properly! Hello MC, my name is Zen, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” he beamed offering his hand out to her.  

-       Please

-       She smiled and took his hand and laughed as he flipped it over to kiss the back of hers.

-       “Oh! Hahah- wow! Um… yes, yes it’s lovely to meet you too Zen… Zen.”

-       He watched in rapt fascination as her fingers curled around his almost painfully, how her eyes widened and how her jaw fell and closed but fell back down- as if she were trying to desperately find the words… or simply remember how to talk.

-       “So… it’s true what they say…” he trailed off as he drew her closer with a simple tug of her hand still within his, “About when you meet your other half…”

Swallowing deeply and finally blinking her burning eyes MC shook her head and took a step back, though, she did not withdraw her hand. “What do they say?” she asked her voice trembling as much as her body was.

“That when you finally say your Soulmate’s name- nothing else in the world sounds as beautiful. That nothing else tastes as nice as the name of your Soulmate on your tongue. That the mere thought of their name is enough to bring tears to your eyes…”

-       She stared at him completely astonished by the ardent proclamations of this- stranger-

-       “No one says that,” she whispered as she licked her lips subconsciously her eyes fixated on his, content on watching him worry at the plump flesh. “Not out loud…” “They should… So- um… lunch?” she asked finally pulling away and bringing her hand to her chest, her other hand cradling it almost tenderly, her fingers tracing the still- warm parts of her skin that he had held.

-       They talked about anything that came to mind, their pasts, their dreams, their favourite food and their mutual aversion to cats. “A cat scratched my face when I was three and although I think they’re beautiful, I just… I just can’t.”

-       Soulmates were made to be a perfect fit after all…  

-       Once they got back on set the tension between the two was so thick it was practically humming- everyone could see that something had happened over lunch.

-       During a pivotal scene, where they were about to finally separate ways forever and part with a kiss…  

-       MC was looking at Zen, tears brimming in her eyes –geez what a talent- merely four lines away from their kiss and-

-       … and she dropped her script and crossed the stage to kiss him. Completely unscripted. Completely inappropriate.

-       It was perfect.

-       “-But Director, they’re not meant to kiss yet-”

“Shhh… she’s absolutely right! The character wouldn’t be able to wait, she wouldn’t want to waste a moment with talk when these two people are all about action! Have the scriptwriters add it right away-”

-       Zen smirked as they continued to share their first kiss with more than fifty random people around them. He didn’t care, the Director was right. They didn’t want to waste another moment- and suddenly- Zen didn’t mind being one of those idiot actors who fell in love with his co-star.

-       “Okay guys we get the point, we should probably move on… guys?… guys?!”

Jaehee:

-       It wasn’t particularly easy being kicked out by your Uncle and Aunt… she didn’t have anyone… and she didn’t want to touch what little was left of her inheritance from her parents so- she figured it would be better if she found a part time job.

-       That way her mind would be occupied at all times and she could indeed earn some money.

-       Besides… working with coffee wasn’t a bad thing. Being a barista wasn’t a bad thing, even if it did mean she was practically drooling at every order she made, she figured there would be worse cons to a job… like being a slave to a tyrant who overworked you and never appreciated you- she shuddered. She never wanted to end up like that!

-       It was a particularly busy day being the first weeks of winter, everyone would run in just wanting a cup of something warm to hold to help them heat up against the chill in the air, the poor brunette was already run off her feet. She was barely even looking at the customers in the eyes as she pushed their orders across the counter.

-       Wiping the sweat off her brow with the back of her arm, Jaehee took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Soon. Her own break would be soon. Just the next order to do and she would be free for 30 glorious minutes.

-       Pulling the last ticket off the machine so she could read her colleague’s sloppy writing a little easier, she memorised the order and proceeded to make it perfectly. Pouring it out into the large cup Jaehee took the receipt again to make sure she got the customer’s name right- MC…

-       She nearly spilt the drink all over herself.

-       That name. She’d seen it a thousand times before. Written it a thousand times before.

-       But this time- this person’s name… it made her heart skip a beat. It made her heart feel full and happier than it had for the longest time. It made her want to laugh and cry at the same time. It made her think of a home, a real one with her and this MC.

-       All from a name.

-       Jaehee finished writing the name down on the cup neatly and carefully put the pen down. She licked her lips and inhaled and called out in a voice she hoped didn’t shake too much, “MC?!”

-       “Oh here!?”

-       Jaehee looked up to see an angel in a trench coat and beanie. Her skin kissed with cold, nose and cheeks rosy and eyes bright. Such beauty right in front of her. “Um… may I please have my order um… Jae-Jaehee?”

-       The two women looked at each other from either side of the counter, the noise and hustle and bustle of the small coffee shop completely going unnoticed by them.

-       Jaehee pushed the cup to the middle of the bench only to be met in the middle by MC’s hand, her gloved fingers wrapping themselves around her quivering digits.

-       “I… this is…” she stammered unable to look away from the other woman’s eyes, her own honeyed irises large with disbelief.

-       She couldn’t be that lucky… to meet them… to meet her so early in life…

-       “It is,” MC answered her pink cheeks turning red as her lips curled into a stunning smile.

-       “B-but I don’t believe in-” “I’m standing right here.”

“Nothing good ever happens to me-” “Right in front of you.” “I have a break now-” “Let’s have a coffee.”

-       For the first time since she started working there, Jaehee took her break front of house… with a customer no less… and no one batted an eye when 30 minutes turned to an hour. Then an hour into an hour and a half- the girl had never smiled like she did right then; who were they to take that away from her?

-       They did however yell at her when she accidentally kept writing and calling out MC’s name for every order for the next day.

Jumin:

-       Soulmates? Preposterous. His father had spent his entire adult life looking for his soulmate, convinced that every pretty woman who batted their eyelashes at him and feigned to feel a strong connection to him (his money) was the one. This obsession with finding his Soulmate leading their family to shame and their company to ruin.

-       Well. Not. Him.

-       He didn’t believe in such nonsense. Not once did he find a woman worth spending time with let alone believing them capable to be the other perfect half of your soul. That would be the day.

-       All throughout high school he had one vapid girl after another clawing at him to say their name, hoping that he would feel the twinge in his heart and for butterflies to zoom out of his butt or some ridiculous notion like that. By the first month of school he refused to call any girl by their name and insisted on labelling everyone “Hey you there” or “Female student in front of me.”  

-       By the time he entered university, word had gotten out that Jumin Han just hated the idea of anyone being in love- because who would so vehemently refuse to even try to find their Soulmate? Who would look down on others just for trying to find a little piece of happiness? He was just an angry, lonely man.

-       Not that they were entirely wrong on that assessment… but not entirely right either.

-       Though, he didn’t let something like public opinion of him falter his course or his ideas- Jumin never thought much of other people’s talking of subjects they had no idea about. He took great pleasure it picking apart their arguments and making them sound like fools.

-       Probably why he made such an excellent debater, Captain of the team in fact.

-       In his final year of University, they were finally pitted against their rival school; not once in all the years he had been on the team had he had the chance to face off with the national champions- he was always called off to sit in with his father’s meetings or off sick; but not this time. This time he would meet them, crush them and reclaim the title for his school.

-       He had tried every avenue to find out what they could about their new Captain but everyone was on lockdown, no one would talk and all means of electronically hacking their systems to find out who they were, were completely barred. He didn’t want to cheat, it would sully his victory- no he just wanted to be prepared. Know their history, their grades and whatnot- let it never be said that Jumin Han didn’t do his homework.

-       The day of the debate arrived and sure enough familiar faces lined the opposite team- except one. A pretty girl he supposed, hardly what he would call imposing with her sweet smile and her intermittent waves to the crowd in front of them. Hardly Captain material, he’d be surprised if she was first chair… but wait- what was she doing sitting in the Captain’s chair?

-       Good Lord.

-       This was going to be too easy.

-       Jumin barely heard the announcer listing off his teammates but he paused when he heard her name. It cut through him like a hot knife through butter, seared onto his brain.

-       MC.

-       He felt nauseous, a cold sweat forming on his upper lip as his steel grey eyes raked over her smaller form.

-       She looked just as shaken as he did; her hands ringing together ripping the tissues trapped between her fingers.

-       He thought he was going to faint- what was this feeling? He mouthed her name and the feeling of illness slipped away only to be replaced with a wash of warmth? A silly tingling in his blood that seemed to be singing her name in his ears. His mouth was dry and his throat on fire, his palms lined with a sheen of sweat and his heart beating in the pit of his stomach. He didn’t know what was going on, he didn’t understand.

-       He watched as MC calmed herself all the while keeping her gaze focused on him, her cheeks burning up the longer she stared. She ran her tongue along her lower lip and he had never been so charmed by a muscle in his life.

-       Jumin she mouthed, maybe to him, maybe to herself- he didn’t know- what he did notice however was the way her hand clutched at her blazer just above where her heart would be. She didn’t look like she was in pain but she wasn’t exactly the same grinning woman he had seen moments earlier.

-       Indeed, it seemed that Jumin could barely tear his eyes off her, he couldn’t pay attention to his teammates, he couldn’t take notes- he could only focus on her. Just how far had he fallen? Over hearing a name and seeing a pretty face? Get it together Jumin!

-       Except he couldn’t. Every time he tried to rebut an argument he would instinctively look back at the opposite team and his eyes locked onto hers and he’d be lost. Each time he’d make any headway with his points he’d want to say her name instead, and of course, everything came out all tongue tied.

-       Thankfully for him, her performance wasn’t much better, she was a blushing mess but still- a coherent blushing mess.

-       Jumin’s university went home empty handed that year after all.

-       But not Jumin, not this time.

-       He wouldn’t lose twice in one day.

-       “Hello there, good performance today.”

“You too.”

“I’m Jumin Han-” “I know. I’m MC-”

“I heard, yes.”

-       Her teammates were calling for her to hurry up and get on the bus and she was about to call back to them but was cut off by the suddenly confident opposing Captain, “Please go on ahead- I will take MC home.” They looked at her and she in turn looked up to him and shook her head at his cavalier and brash assumption. He was just lucky it was the correct one. “It’s fine guys, you heard what Jumin said- he’s going to take me home.”

-       The silence in the auditorium was deafening. Jumin never spoke a girl’s first name and he certainly never let someone who just met him call him by his first name… unless…

-       Jumin fiddled with the cufflinks in his sleeves trying to buy time before he had to speak again. MC picked at imaginary lint at her skirt in hopes that the man would continue his initiative.

-       “I… I don’t know how any of this works… in fact until about an hour ago I was certain it was all a farce,” he admitted his eyes firmly fastened on her right shoulder, “but if… if it’s really what it seems like is it- what it feels like it is- I would like the chance to understand it all. Understand everything about you.”

-       MC smiled, even if she wasn’t his Soulmate, after that heartfelt speech, she would have bribed the stars themselves to realign just so she could be. “I don’t know how this works either- my mother told me it might happen one day, to just pray it would just happen before I got married to someone else who I thought was my Soulmate… is it… I mean… you felt it too? When you heard my name?” she questioned her eyebrows arching up as high as they would go. “The pull? The need to keep saying my name over and over again? Tell me it just wasn’t me.”

-       Jumin’s lips quirked to the side in an amused smirk, this girl was adorable. She could have asked to have his heart out on a platter and he’d have freely offered it, but all she required was the confirmation of his budding feelings from him.

-       Just too easy.

-       “I did. I feel it now. I have no choice but to believe in all this-” “Prove it.”

“Uh…how?”

“Scream my name out into the audience, let everyone hear it! Let everyone hear the name on the tip of your tongue, the name that your heart beats to now!” she goaded him, an excited grin on her face.

-       Jumin stared at her in shock- again another easy request… he didn’t care what people thought of him after all. Shrugging nonchalantly Jumin opened his mouth to swallow a gulp of air more than ready to scream out her name-

-       Only to have two delicate hands cover his mouth and a giggle that was not his own reverberating on his chest.

“Damn it! I didn’t think you’d actually do it! You’re crazy! I believe it, I believe you!” she guffawed, burying her face against him, her body heat and laughter seeping into him and offering a warmth that he had never felt before.

-       He liked it.

-       He wanted more.

-       “So… perhaps it wouldn’t be out of line for me to ask you out to dinner?” he asked looking down at the crown of her head. “O-Of course not!” “Tonight?”

-       The tentative slip of her hand in his was answer enough for him.

Saeyoung:

-       He was a good, diligent worker and that was all that mattered to the Agency.

-       He barely ate, he barely slept, barely did anything but exist and work.

-       The perfect agent.

-       Then they brought her in.

-       606.

-       Quiet and withdrawn but brilliant. She could code almost as well as he did and she could hack into places faster and without a trace better than him. She slept less than him. Ate less than him. Was less than him.

-       She wasn’t going to survive, she would burn out and become useless to the Agency and she would have to be disposed of.

-       … and even as far as he had come, as low as he had gone… that didn’t sit right with him. He chose this life, but someone that hollow did not. Someone that broken had been torn away from a good life, a happy life.

-       He imagined her having younger siblings who missed her, parents who searched the streets with her picture in hand begging for information, friends who no longer spoke to each other because the memory of her haunted them.

-       He wasn’t going to let the agency steal a life that didn’t belong to them.

-       It all started with innocent emails; just him asking how she was, sending her funny jokes or pictures, bantering and bitching about work in such a way that no one would be able to crack down on them for… make her smile. Make her strong. Don’t let her break.

-       606 soon became the life of the office… which didn’t say much because it was literally just him, her and Vanderwood in the small room. She was laughing and smiling and radiating joy- her work improved… the Agency was very happy.

-       707. Stay back tonight. Help me with an assignment?

-       Of course, 606, whatever you need.

-       That night when Vanderwood had finally gone past his threshold of exhaustion, the older man peeled himself off the chair and bid “the children” goodnight.

-       She kept typing, she kept on finishing her work for another 20 minutes as he sat there dumbfounded as to why she had asked him to stay back when all she was doing was literally more work. That was what tomorrow was for!

-       He was about to pack up and leave when she threw him a piece of paper.

I’m leaving. Tonight. Come with me.

-       He looked back up at her, there was nothing on her face to discern that she even sent him the message- or even blinked. “So… you in?”

-       Of course, 606, whatever you need.

-       He nodded. She kept typing.

“Come and see me in my room then?”

-       Aahhh, so that’s how she was going to hide it- she was going to pretend they were going to sleep together. That was something he often found weird in the Agency- they didn’t care or discourage the formation of relationships between agents- probably believed if you got attached they could always use the partner as insurance or worse, incentive. “Yeah, I’ll meet you in there.”

-       When he arrived she was in full combat gear, she was ready to fight her way out if needed. They went over the plan over and over again, whispering directly into each other’s ears so that not even the bugs in their rooms could pick up what they were saying. Also with occasional moan or shudder it seemed like they were just making out.

-       Her room was just above the route the laundry trucks would ride out from and she had managed to make contact with one of her friends from the outside- come midnight she, they, would jump down and escape this hell hole. They only had one chance to do this- the other agents on duty would notice a paused truck and would respond immediately.

-       The clock ticked by and before they knew it, it was 11:59 and the faint rumble of an engine could be heard, the soft hiss of the brakes beneath her window.

-       “In case I die,” she uttered, her face stoic and unmoving, “I want you to know- my name, it’s not 606. They wanted me to forget but I will never forget. My name is MC.”

-       It was like a punch to his chest, the sound of her name. It ignited something in him that he never thought he would have the chance to feel, to experience. Not there. To find her there amongst all the sin and evil that they do, he knew how to spot a miracle when God sent one.

-       “You’re not going to die MC, I promise,” he replied as he held her to him in a bone crushing embrace, “I promise.”

“Your name, 707- if I die, I want to know your-” “Didn’t I just say that you weren’t going to die MC?” he chuckled as her helped out of the window, “I, Saeyoung Choi, promise you.”

-       The look on her face as she said his name would have been enough to take him to his grave. To see her face light up with joy and surprise as if someone had turned on a light inside of her, that would be one of his most treasured memories.

-       His sharp ears caught the sounds of rushed footsteps down the hall.

-       He pushed her roughly before she was ready and heard a loud snap of something when she fell onto the truck. MC was bowed forward, holding onto her right foot that had landed awkwardly and bent inwardly- her face contorted into silent screams.

-       Saeyoung made the sign of the cross as he backed away from the window to do a run up. God please- I just found her- don’t take her away from me.

-       He landed beside her, coiling his arms around her protectively as he laid her down to see the damage to her ankle- it was bad but nothing that some doctor couldn’t fix.

-       He beamed down at her, cupping her face tenderly…

-       As he tried desperately to ignore the barrage of agents chasing after the both of them.

-       Saeyoung gently caressed her features with his fingers, desperate to feel everything under his touch, etch it into his mind.

-       “You lie down here and keep safe okay? I’m going to go and hold them off-” “No! You can’t do that! They’ll torture you to death!” she cried sitting up, screaming out in pain as she accidentally moved her foot. He shushed her, looking forward to see that they were nearly clear of the base… she was so close to being free. “Shh, shhh- it’s okay MC. It’ll be okay. I promise,” he reassured her, his eyes crinkling so much that little droplets of tears dotted his auburn lashes. “No it won’t be-” “I’ll find you. I promise. I’ll find you.”

“Saeyoung!”

-       He jumped off the truck and refused to allow himself to look back at her- if he did, he would never be able to leave her side.

-       MC ignored the searing pain rushing up her leg to twist her body to watch her Soulmate’s noble sacrifice. One man, two, twelve men on him… he had no chance.

-       “Saeyoung!” she croaked, her voice stifled by her despair.

-       You promised…

-       707: WAIT

        Yoosung: Why?                 Zen:??         707: Think someone entered the chat room;;

        Jumin: MC…?

-       Saeyoung smiled to himself as he traced the location and turned on the camera.

-       Promised I would find you.

  Saeran:

-       He had been searching for months under her orders. Months and no one was right. He was about to give up hope, that he would have to send in one of their own to infiltrate the damned RFA… but then she appeared.

-       Like a gust of wind on a scorching day or the breath of air coursing through starved lungs- she blew into his life and turned it upside down.

-       He would follow her and watch her from afar. He would tap in and listen to her conversations- not because he was interested in what she was saying- he just wanted to hear her voice.

-       Her friend was laughing on the other line, “Oh… MC… you’re too much!”

-       Saeran fell to the floor, his knees smarting from the hard concrete. No- NO!

-       He crawled underneath his desk and curled up into a tight ball, his arms hugging his knees as he lightly rocked back and forth. Adrenaline pumped through his veins, made him jittery and on edge. No- he was warned against this. Was told that if he ever felt this that it was wrong, that he should only love the Saviour and their cause. That the call of someone else was evil, that it was the work of the corrupted

-       But he was already corrupted, no matter how many times they drugged him and made him try to forget- he knew he was… but MC-

-       She was perfect, absolutely perfect.

-       Unfortunately, the Saviour agreed.

-       It was hard to have something of your own in Mint Eye, something private, something sacred.

-       He had to get her back.

-       They had sent her to infiltrate an organisation full of desperate and lonely people- the most kind and innocent person sent into a den of wolves to feast upon. He had to save her.

-       He was frantic, he sent her conflicting messages- wanting to scare her away from Mint Eye but wanting her to stay away from them- especially Saeyoung. If any of them saw even half of what he saw in her… they would steal her away.

-       Finally the Saviour said it was time to claim their prize back, that since he was so good he could take her for himself- keep her safe himself. He was so happy. But when he got to the apartment, as he scaled the building and broke through the window to reach her… she was not as happy to see him.

-       She was screaming. She was backing away from him. She was afraid.

-       He couldn’t think straight- this wasn’t right. She was supposed to be happy to see him, to come with him willingly. Wasn’t that what Soulmates were about? The moment he knew her name-

-       That was it… he knew her name but she didn’t know his… to her he was…

-       “I’m from Paradise. You don’t know this but you were invited too… I know it took some time for me to come for you… now let’s go together… you look scared, don’t be. I won’t hurt you… endless parties, overflowing love, joy without pain… I’ll save you… You invited someone? Maybe… Luciel Choi?”

“MC- Are you hurt?” “I-I’m fine!” “I… I don’t know who you are… but let go of her!”

-       No. Not Luciel. The actor. The pretty one. Of course she would fall for the pretty one.

-       “No.” She’s mine. She’s meant for me.

“If you don’t, I’ll have to use force to protect my girl.” I don’t want to do this. “You move a single inch, you see this switch here? I’ll press it.” I won’t.

“What do you want?!”

-       The truth then.

-       “To escape this place safely with the RFA planner… If you don’t want to activate the bomb you better stay still. Just watch as I take… “your girl” and disappear.”

-       The pain in his arm paled in comparison to the ache in his heart when she pulled away from him to run into the arms of another man. Away from him. Always away.

-       Never his.

-       Meant to be his.

-       “My name… My name was Saeran.”

V:

-       It was the school for the rich and gifted.

-       Some more rich and others more gifted.

-       Most loved it there. Some merely tolerated it.

-       One person hated it.

-       Brought in through a scholarship to show how the school was “giving back to the community”, bringing in the charity case and parade them around like their latest trophy.

-       Well this trophy didn’t like the case she was put in. She didn’t like the people who thought they could polish her up and make her shine to their standards. She didn’t like them at all.

-       Especially those that shone the brightest- it hurt to look at them, like the sun- blindingly beautiful but dangerous.

-       None shone more so than V.

-       Pfft.

-       Who the hell named their child V? What pretentious jackass does that?

-       Wasn’t it enough that he went strutting around with his best friend, waving and talking to the more common folk? Wasn’t it too much that he went around taking photos of people and landscapes and saying pompous things like “everything is beautiful and everything is art?” Wasn’t it over the top that he had the gall to act all sweet and kind and look like some sort of bronzed Greek God? WASN’T IT?!

-       MC breathed in trying to calm herself. For the better part of the last six months she had spent it running, hiding and keeping her distance from him. He seemed hell bent on seeking her out and trying to talk to her- well she wanted nothing from him! No help! No charity! No pity! Just to be left alone.

-       During a study period, she was cornered by none other than that trust fund kid’s best friend, super-mega trust fund kid the first, Jumin Han.

-       He chose the desk right next to hers although almost every other desk was available, which only meant he wanted to speak to her.

-       “Why do you hate V?” he asked so bluntly she was surprised by it. She sat up from her prone position laying along the desk and twisted slightly to face the man to her left. She propped her head on her hand and gave him a long, pointed stare.  

-       “I… I don’t know. I just do. From his perfect hair to his perfect persona to, god even his name pisses me off! V! There are just some people that you’re not meant to get along with and he and I are obviously not meant to be besties,” she huffed as she rested the front of her torso back down against the desk, resting her chin atop her crossed arms.

-       “I told him,” he clicked his tongue as he shook his head ruefully, crossing his arms like a disappointed adult to a child… or small pet. “I told Jihyun that you were certifiable. Who hates someone just because of what they can see? Without even getting to know them?”

-       Her fingers dug into the worn wood of the table beneath her.

-       Jihyun… now that was… that was a name she liked. Her breath escaped her lungs as she whirled around so fast she almost lost balance on her seat. That name made her feel soft and fuzzy and loved- she had never even met him and she was already in love with him. Jihyun, a good and noble man who wanted nothing more than to love and care for the woman he loved and to be loved and cared for in return. A man who would make them such horrible breakfasts on Sunday when they were married that they would inevitably go out and eat at a restaurant- yet he never stopped trying. Because he loved her and one day he wanted to get it right. A man who would stay in and read the paper to her as she lay in between his legs and slept on his chest- he wouldn’t even move at all for fear she’d wake or be disturbed.

-       She loved that name.

-       Her heart beat faster and suddenly she couldn’t control her extremities, her legs were bouncing up and down in excitement and her hands unsure of where to place themselves, every place awkward compared to the thought of her hands being linked with his. It didn’t feel right- to be on her own, not now she knew his name.

-       “Who?” she meekly asked the ebony haired prince next to her. He was fiddling with a loose thread on his blazer sleeve, pulling at the strand until it came out completely. “Jumin- who?” she repeated hoping that her insistence would be enough to show him how important it was for her to know who this man was.

-       He gave her a perplexed look, thoughtful eyes glided over her form as if he were trying to ascertain whether she was joking or not. His eyes widened and his mouth pressed into a thin line when he quickly realised that she wasn’t asking in jest, she was completely serious.

“Jihyun… Jihyun Kim is V’s real name. The man you so ardently hated?” he answered, his mouth twitching up into a wry smile.

-       Damn it.

-       MC violently pushed herself back from the desk with both hands before she started running to the last place she had seen V- Jihyun. He was entering the dark room just as she was heading to the study hall. The light was on meaning he was developing something… she should be patient…

-       … but all those months… all those wasted months- how could he forgive her? She didn’t know but she had to try!

-       The light flicked off and she knocked, waiting for him to call out that it was okay and that she could come it. She slowly opened the door and closed it behind her.

-       Less than five steps away was Jihyun, pulling down some developed photos.

-       He was right. Everything was beautiful. Everything was art.

-       He was art.

-       And she was just some dumb pedestrian trying to look at the piece and critique it without having all the history and facts behind it, not knowing the mastery it took to create it. The love that went into it. Fool.

-       He turned to her and she swore that the blue of his eyes was just that little bit bluer, the tone of his hair that much deeper and his lips, full and perfect and so ready for her to kiss she couldn’t believe there was ever a time she wanted to slap his smile off. Now she’d do anything to keep it there forever.

-       What’s in a name? Everything. What did Shakespeare know?

-       “I… I’m so sorry,” she cried, prostrating herself in a deep bow.

-       Startled, V set aside his print and pulled the bowing woman up and forced her to look at him. “What for? I’m not aware of anything you’ve done that would warrant an apology,” he replied good naturedly, his kind smile warming her to her bones. “I have been terrible to you and only because… for some unknown reason- I couldn’t stand your name. What it stood for, what you seemingly stood for,” she confessed, her cheeks burning under the harsh lights.

-       V reached behind her and turned on the dark room red lights once again- to save her from embarrassment.

-       “I know- it’s okay MC, you don’t have to explain. I know my name is the problem,” he admitted with a careless shrug. MC gawked at him, how could he know? How could he possibly know?! “I’ve known since the first day when I felt the bond but you did nothing but run away from me- I knew that my name was faulty and that although you may be my Soulmate- that I simply was not yours.”

-       All this time, he thought he was the problem. That she didn’t love him because his name was faulty, that he was faulty.

-       Her heart shattered and she bit her lip to stop herself from crying. She almost ruined this man, she continued to pile hurt upon hurt on him and now there she was telling her how much she loved him… well… that was what she wanted to do, whether or not she could do it not was the other question.

-       “No… I… I was just stupid. I thought your name was V, not Jihyun. There was nothing wrong with your name- there is nothing wrong with you. I… just, wanted to let you know that. You’re amazing. You’re perfect and I want to get to know you, just as you are.”

-       Even in the dark, the brightness from his smile could be seen.

-       “You do?” the hope in his voice evident, taking the first steps to close the gap between them. “I do. I want the chance to know the real Jihyun,” she beamed. “I would love nothing more than that, MC,” he replied, encircling his arms around her body. -       Well what do you know, they were a perfect fit.

[spicynbachili1]

Inside China’s internment camps: tear gas, Tasers and textbooks | News

On state tv, the vocational schooling centre in China’s far west seemed like a contemporary college the place comfortable college students studied Mandarin, brushed up their job expertise, and pursued hobbies equivalent to sports activities and people dance.

However earlier this 12 months, one of many native authorities departments answerable for such amenities in Xinjiang’s Hotan prefecture made a number of purchases that had little to do with schooling: 2,768 police batons, 550 electrical cattle prods, 1,367 pairs of handcuffs, and a couple of,792 cans of pepper spray.

The procuring listing was amongst over a thousand procurement requests made by native governments within the Xinjiang area since early 2017 associated to the development and administration of a sprawling system of “vocational schooling and coaching centres”.

The amenities have come beneath worldwide scrutiny, with rights activists describing them as political re-education camps holding as many as a million ethnic Uighurs and different Muslim minorities.

Beijing had beforehand denied their existence. However a world outcry, together with from the UN and the US, sparked a PR counter-offensive.

Authorities propaganda insisted the centres had been aimed toward countering the unfold of separatism, terrorism and non secular extremism via “free” schooling and job coaching.

Nonetheless, an AFP examination of greater than 1,500 publicly out there authorities paperwork – starting from tenders and budgets to official work reviews – reveals the centres are run extra like jails than faculties.

Hundreds of guards geared up with tear fuel, Tasers, stun weapons and spiked golf equipment preserve tight management over “college students” in amenities ringed with razor wire and infrared cameras, in line with the paperwork.

The centres ought to “train like a college, be managed just like the army, and be defended like a jail”, mentioned one doc, quoting Xinjiang’s social gathering secretary Chen Quanguo. 

To construct new, higher Chinese language residents, one other doc argued, the centres should first “break their lineage, break their roots, break their connections, and break their origins”. 

‘Detain those that needs to be detained’            

The centre featured on state broadcaster CCTV final week is one in all no less than 181 such amenities in Xinjiang, in line with information collected by AFP. 

Participation is voluntary, in line with CCTV, which confirmed contented “college students” carrying matching uniforms, learning Mandarin and studying trades like knitting, weaving and baking.

The centres first appeared in 2014, the 12 months that authorities launched a brand new “strike arduous” marketing campaign in opposition to “terrorism” after lethal violence in Xinjiang.

However the buildup started in earnest in early 2017, with native governments in predominantly Uighur southern Xinjiang ordered to hurry up the development of “concentrated academic transformation centres for focus teams” – a euphemism for the spiritual, the poor, the uneducated, passport holders, and nearly all males of army age.

Shortly after, Xinjiang’s regional authorities issued laws on managing “spiritual extremism”.

Extremists could possibly be hiding wherever, officers warned, instructing cadres to be looking out for 25 unlawful spiritual actions and 75 indicators of extremism, together with such seemingly innocuous actions as quitting smoking or shopping for a tent.

“Detain those that needs to be detained to the best extent attainable”, cadres had been advised.

Detentions surged, catching native governments unprepared.

In 2017, spending by justice bureaus all through Xinjiang exploded, pushed largely by large outlays for constructing and operating vocational centres.

The workplaces spent practically three billion yuan ($432m) – no less than 577 % greater than deliberate – in line with AFP’s calculations.

Counties within the south closed the hole with a particular fund earmarked for centres within the area.

A minimum of a few of that cash got here instantly from the Communist Get together’s Central Political and Authorized Affairs Fee – the group answerable for the nation’s authorized authorities – finances paperwork confirmed.

‘Wolf’s tooth’ 

Round April 2017, native governments started posting all kinds of tenders associated to the amenities.

Some orders – furnishings, air conditioners, bunk beds, cutlery – wouldn’t appear misplaced at a typical Chinese language college.

China has deployed safety members to its ‘vocational centres’ the place Uighurs are detained [Ng Han Guan/AP Photo]

However others resembled jail tools: subtle surveillance techniques, cameras for recording college students of their rooms, razor wire, a system for eavesdropping on telephone calls, and infrared monitoring gadgets.

The centres additionally purchased police uniforms, riot shields and helmets, pepper spray, tear fuel, web weapons, stun weapons, electrified batons, billy golf equipment, spears, handcuffs and spiked golf equipment referred to as “wolf’s tooth”.

A minimum of one centre requested “tiger chairs”, a tool utilized by Chinese language police to restrain interrogation topics.

The gear was essential, social gathering officers within the regional capital Urumqi argued in an emergency request for Tasers, to “assure employees members’ private security”.

Non-lethal weapons, it mentioned, had been vital for “lowering the potential for unintentional damage in some conditions the place it’s not essential to make use of commonplace firearms”.

Regardless of repeated makes an attempt by AFP, native authorities couldn’t be reached for remark.

‘Self-criticisms’ 

On the finish of 2017, “larger authorities” issued instructions to standardise the amenities’ operations.

New “vocational schooling and coaching service administration bureaus” had been arrange, headed by officers skilled in operating prisons and detention centres, in line with native authorities web sites.

College students can be examined on their information of Mandarin and propaganda on a weekly, month-to-month and “seasonal” foundation, and write common “self-criticisms”, one bureau wrote in a memo.

They might spend their days “shouting slogans, singing purple songs and memorising the Three Character Basic”, it mentioned, referring to an historical Confucian textual content.

Their information lodged in a centralised database, college students had been sorted into classes primarily based on their offences and ranges of accomplishment.

Criminals who had accomplished a jail sentence had been launched instantly into the centres, beneath the precept of “placing untrustworthy individuals in a reliable place”.

College students who carried out properly can be allowed to name their households and even go to them in particular rooms on the centres.

Officers had been ordered to usually go to college students’ households at residence to present them “anti-extremism” classes and test for indicators of anger that would harden into opposition to the Communist Get together.

The brand new bureaus additionally ensured “absolute safety” in opposition to “troublemaking” within the centres, together with stopping “escapes”, one native administration bureau wrote in a breakdown of its duties.

Along with ex-prisoners and people charged with spiritual extremism, native governments had been additionally ordered to make sure that no less than one member of every family acquired vocational schooling for no less than one to a few months – a measure ostensibly aimed toward assuaging poverty within the area of 24 million.

Whereas China has rejected estimates that upwards of 1 million are held within the centres, tender paperwork trace at large numbers.

In a one-month interval in early 2018, Hotan county’s vocational schooling bureau, which oversees no less than one centre, ordered 194,000 Chinese language language follow books.

And 11,310 pairs of footwear.

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from SpicyNBAChili.com http://spicymoviechili.spicynbachili.com/inside-chinas-internment-camps-tear-gas-tasers-and-textbooks-news/

[hyodo-juza]

The one-sided SakuJitsu fic is finished! I put the note at the bottom of the fanfic on AO3, but I’ll put it in here, too: The Japanese characters in Jitsui’s name read something along the lines of “truth,” “sincerity,” or “honest.” You can also read the fic on Fanfiction.net.

Sakuma watched as Kaminaga and Amari left with the rest of his Kendo club, wishing him luck and promising to text him the moment they would arrive home. On a regular day, Sakuma would accompany them after practice and stop by a convenience store to browse the magazines there or to purchase tickets to see a new movie in town.

Today was different. Today was the day that Sakuma would finally confess his feelings.

The sky was already a hue of blue and orange, the evening sky greeting him and reminding Sakuma that he needed to hurry or he would lose his chance. He turned from the shoe lockers and pulled the letter he had written out of his bag, Sakuma unable to prevent the warm feeling that spread to his cheeks at the very thought of handing it to his crush.

He ascended the stairs and halted by the entrance to the second floor, remembering that he was aiming for the library, not his crush’s classroom. He was so used to going up towards the third floor to loiter around in the first-year halls during his breaks to catch his cute underclassman leaving his classroom with friends, until he figured out his schedule and realized that he would stay after school to attend English club in the library.

Sakuma looked down the hall as he walked, feeling nervous once again as he grew more and more aware of just how quiet the halls were without so many students in it. He had done this before, staying at school after practice, but not often enough to make it a habit. The silence was a bit unnerving, which wasn’t helping Sakuma settle his resolve. He thought about confessing hundreds of times, but just the fact that it was really happening, that this was his moment, made him restless beyond any stress he’s had before.

He thought back to the first time he had met him, and Sakuma knew that his chance of telling him how he truly felt was now or never. His weekend would be spent studying and his exams were starting next week.

After that was graduation.

Sakuma was dressed in his uniform shirt, the warming spring temperatures threatening to escalate as he passed out flyers to a group of first-year students that had bothered to stop at their booth. It was the beginning of the new school year and his club was working hard to maintain their members and participate in upcoming prefecture meets.

After the third-years had graduated, Sakuma was awarded as team captain for the Kendo club and wanted to make his first official duty to scope out new talent and gain as many first years as they could.

Kaminaga and Amari were both helping him, handing out flyers and explaining the club activities while still managing to chat up the girls that walked by. Usually Sakuma was quick to put a stop to their behavior, but it was obvious that there was hardly any real flirting involved. They were genuinely trying to get them interested in joining the club, albeit with a different method than what Sakuma had hoped for.

Sakuma turned around to continue his job when he hit something solid with his arm, then the sound of heavy books tumbling on the ground. The captain jerked himself back to see just what he had done, surprised to find that it was a younger student he had accidentally hit. “I’m so sorry!” Sakuma had apologized the moment he looked down, studying the boy’s face and the rest of him to make sure he hadn’t hurt him or scuffed his uniform.

He set his stack of flyer paper down on the booth table and crouched down beside the student, picking up his fallen books for him before he even had a chance to protest. He read the titles on some of the textbooks and realized that he was a first-year, most likely browsing the clubs like the others were.

After gathering all of the books, he balanced them in one arm before extending his free hand to pull the boy up, his offer accepted with a smile. Sakuma distractedly wondered how such a thin framed boy could manage carrying so many heavy books at once, but his thought never strayed to his mouth. “I’m really sorry for knocking into you like that, I should have been paying more attention.”

The boy got to his feet and gently pulled his hand away, taking his books from Sakuma. “I should have been more careful. It’s hard for me to see when I carry my books like this. You’re actually the second person I’ve run into because of it.”

“Do you need any help? I can carry them to your class if you’d like?” Sakuma was never against helping another person if they needed it, and it was all the more reason to make sure that he really hadn’t hurt him.

“Oh, no thank you. It’s not that far of a walk from here.” The boy flashed him another angelic smile and Sakuma was sure that he had forgotten how to breathe. His features were so soft and he had such an innocent charm to him, Sakuma felt even worse about bumping into him.

Sakuma was going to ask again, to reassure him that it wouldn’t be a problem, but then another student approached them both. His hair was short and styled, but the look on his face seemed as though he were looking at Sakuma with a scrutinizing gaze. He turned his attention to the boy. “Jitsui, I was told to bring you to the library.”

Sakuma immediately registered his name just as Jitsui nodded. It was a fitting name, for someone so pure and sincere. The first-year spared him one more look before he joined his friend and walked on, his textbooks piled high and pressed between his hands and under his chin to keep them secure.

Sakuma would have kept staring until they disappeared if it hadn’t been for the whistle Amari gave. He turned to find that his friend was leaning against the table with a hand on his hip, a knowing look on his face. “Someone’s smitten.”

The captain only narrowed his eyes at his cocky expression. “Being kind to someone is not equated to a crush.”

“You’re not going to have any time to date him,” Amari added anyway, ignoring Sakuma. “Besides, you’re too old to be interested in some baby-faced—Ouch!”

Kaminaga hit Amari on the back of the head with a rolled-up pile of fliers he was meant to be handing out. “Hey, stop messing around and help me with these. At this rate, we’re not going to have enough members for this club if you keep goofing off.”

Amari took the fliers from Kaminaga’s hand and smacked him with it in retaliation of his last attack, Sakuma snatching the roll from Amari and unfolding it so he could hand the papers out properly.

The image of Jitsui and his gentle demeanor stuck with Sakuma despite keeping himself busy and roping in new students to join Kendo. Later that day, when he was preparing to instruct the students that signed up after school, he still found himself distracted while he was tying the belt to his Hakama.

Sakuma was having the same problem now as he stood in front of the doors to the library where his crush unknowingly waited. He was smart to get there just after Kendo practice had ended, afraid that Jitsui’s club would have dispersed now that it was already past five in the evening.

The third-year steeled himself and took a deep breath, exhaling slowly to settle his nerves and reminding himself that he was ready to go through with this. He gripped the handle and pulled the door open just as a group of students were about to exit.

Their sudden appearance startled Sakuma and he apologize as he moved out of the doorway, letting them pass and watching each one for any sign of Jitsui. It wasn’t until the last straggling club members were leaving that Sakuma met eyes with Jitsui’s friend, Miyoshi.

He had learned his identity through Kaminaga a few weeks after his first encounter with him and his description alone convinced Sakuma that he wasn’t interested in befriending him just for Jitsui. He usually accompanied his crush due to them being in the same class, and club, but Jitsui wasn’t where he expected him to be.

Miyoshi stopped in front of him, his bag strap thrown over his shoulder and his eyes the same piercing glare as he remembered.

Condescending little brat.

“He’s sitting at the first table closest to the window.”

Sakuma blinked at him.

“Well?” Miyoshi motioned to the letter in Sakuma’s hands with his sharp eyes, the action forcing a flush to Sakuma’s cheeks once more. “Unless that’s for me.”

“No!” Sakuma cleared his throat as the blush worsened at his unintentional outburst. His nerves were on fire. “Uh, no. Thank you, though.” He expected Miyoshi to turn and walk away, to at least let him into the library, but the first-year remained standing in his way, staring at him with something like a grin. “What?”

Miyoshi looked from his face and then to his confession letter before shrugging. “Nothing. Have a good night, Sakuma-san.” Then he walked away, his fellow club members gathered at the stairs as they waited for him.

Sakuma wasn’t even going to bother wondering how he knew his name before he poked his head into the library, spotting Jitsui in the exact place that Miyoshi had revealed. He was standing up and packing his books into his backpack, thick-framed classes perched on his nose that Sakuma hadn’t seen before.

He took his chance and entered, his gaze never leaving Jitsui as he walked closer and closer, finally gaining the attention of his crush. The noise of his footsteps must have alerted him of his presence.

Jitsui smiled at him as he tucked away the last of his things, pulling the glasses from his face and folding them.

Sakuma was the first to break the silence. “May I speak with you?” It wasn’t a great way to start, but it was something.

Jitsui set his bag down on the table. “I’m sorry if this seems a little rude, but I have a train to catch for my evening cram school.”

“It won’t take long.” Sakuma was quick to reassure him. The last thing he wanted was for Jitsui to miss something so important because of him.

It did the job, his smile softer than before. “Then what can I help you with?”

Sakuma watched Jitsui form that smile of his that caught his attention from the first day of school, his hands neatly at his sides. He was polite and soft-spoken, something that Sakuma admired about him even when he was taking up his time.

Sakuma waited a moment before he bowed in front of him, holding out the envelope that contained his written feelings for the first-year. It was plain and white, no sticker or stamp to secure the letter inside, but Sakuma believed it was better that way. Closing his eyes, he began what he practiced a million times in front of his mirror.

“I know it must be strange to receive something like this from a near stranger. You probably don’t remember me at all, but we met in the courtyard during club recruitment.”

“I ran into you that day.”

“Yes.” Sakuma blushed at the memory and from losing his focus at the interruption. “I-I came here to tell you my true feelings and for you to accept this note.” He stood straight as he felt Jitsui take the confession from his hands. “I don’t need an answer, I just request that you read it.”

Sakuma bit the inside of his lip as he waited for a response and wasn’t at all surprised to see that Jitsui was laughing. The very idea that a third-year would confess to a first-year, and another male at that, was ridiculous. He expected as such, among other things, but he was prepared for his reaction.

“What an old-school way to confess.” Jitsui’s smile was wide as he stared down at the envelope, peeling the flap with his thumb. “It’s much better than through text, at least.”

Sakuma was staring at the ground in thought of Jitsui’s comment. “I… don’t have your phone number.”

“Fair enough.” Jitsui couldn’t help but tease his upperclassman, genuinely impressed that someone would go to such lengths to make aware their feelings for him. Most people didn’t have the confidence that he apparently had. It must have taken him a lot to bring himself here.

Sakuma stood completely still has he ripped the envelope open and unfolded the paper inside, neat hand-writing covering the entire page and then some. He began reading it, Sakuma’s reaction seen from the corner of his eyes as he studied every line and admired the articulation the confession gave over his feelings. It was embarrassing to read something about himself this way, especially after reading how he was often the subject of his careless daydreaming during his free periods, but it sounded sincere and not at all ill-intended.

Once he was finished, he folded the note just like it was and placed it on top of his bag, along with the open envelope. “I appreciate your feelings very much,” Jitsui’s kind smile faltered a bit, his eyes meeting Sakuma’s so that he could give him an appropriate answer, “but I’m afraid I don’t feel the same.” He could see the way Sakuma’s shoulders slackened the moment he spoke, but the expression on his face never wavered. “School takes up too much of my time and I put my studies first, so I would not be able to maintain a decent relationship with someone two years my senior.”

“I thought so.” Sakuma requested him not to answer to avoid this very situation, yet here he was standing in the face of rejection. He shouldn’t have been disappointed. It went better than he believed it would, but somehow the heat in his face wasn’t induced by Jitsui’s boy-ish charms this time. Sakuma found it hard to speak. “I’m sorry to have kept you for so long.” He moved to bow again and excuse himself, but Jitsui’s voice cut him off.

“I do remember you, Sakuma-san.” Jitsui didn’t want him leaving just yet. He could tell that Sakuma was ready to run out. “It’s not just because we bumped into each other, so don’t believe that I’m treating this as a stranger’s confession, because I’m not. You’re very well-known around the school.”

Sakuma let the words sink in before he bothered to ask. “For what?” He didn’t think he was popular at all, besides his status as Kendo captain, but even the club didn’t gain enough recognition as the other sports did.

“You have a reputation of being generous and helpful to your classmates, from what I hear. Your scores have landed you almost top of your class and you take your studies very seriously. You were certainly the topic of conversation towards a few female classmates of mine at one point.” The way Sakuma’s eyes widened was almost comical. “While meeting you for the first time gave me a hard elbow to the nose, I would never say that I regretted it.”

To Sakuma’s surprise, Jitsui was the one bowing in return. “I hope that my rejection does not stifle who you truly are. You deserve someone better.”

Before Sakuma could reassure him, Jitsui was already taking the letter and his backpack, leaving Sakuma in the library alone. He heard the door close behind him and the faint echo of his footsteps in the hall before Sakuma brought a hand to his face and pressed his thumb and index finger against his eyes to keep the tears from falling.

[iuniverseblog]

Author Hong Yuan tells us about new book, “The Sinitic Civilization”

iUniverse author Hong Yuan talks about The Sinitic Civilization, a thorough exploration of Chinese civilization and history.

  Please briefly describe your book . . .

The Sinitic Civilization: A Factual History Through the Lens of Archaeology, Bronzeware, Astronomy, Divination, Calendar and the Annals

The Book is intended to be the readers who had questions about the Chinese civilization and its history. There are ten thousand answers to ten thousand questions, something like an encyclopedic reference. The index, with dozens of pages of the history-related terminologies, could serve as an expanded table of contents. By searching for the keywords, topics, and events, readers who are interested in China’s civilization or the world civilization at large could glean information about the Sinitic cosmological, astronomical, astrological, historical, divinatory, and geographical developments, knowing that the foundation blocks of any civilization shared similarity as far as theology, myths, creation, and divination are concerned. Chapter One of the Book had the interpretation of Asking Heaven, which was an epic that contained the ancient Chinese myths about the creation theories.

The Book was not intended for the serious-minded readers alone as the interesting topics like Zhou King Muwang’s Travel and The Legends of Mountains & Seas were also included. Charles Hucker mused about the Zhou king’s rendezvous with Queen Sheba, and Henriette Mertz speculated about a Chinese expedition to the North American continent at the turn of the 3rd and 2nd  millennia B.C. The Book covered 95-98% of Zhou King Muwang’s Travelogue, and covered the most important parts of the mythic book The Legends of Mountains and Seas.

The Book, though not a 100% word or word translation of the two ancient Chinese history annals of The Spring & Autumn Annals (722-481 B.C.) and The Bamboo Annals (the late 3rd and early 2nd  millennia B.C.-299 B.C.), could be said to have at minimum 95-98% of the contents paraphrased, if not termed translated. In the Book, considerable contents related to Shi-ji (The Grand Clerk’s Script), i.e., China’s multi-dynasty annals, were covered as well.

The Book contained the paraphrasing of ancient poems from The Book of Poems, and hence could serve as a literary source of reference. The Book, absent the Chinese logographic characters, could be used as an entry-level Chinese language textbook as the Chinese words and their meanings were spelled out with the English paraphrase in the brackets. Readers could contradistinguish the Chinese-English words to master the phonetic pronunciation of the Sinitic language.

  And can you tell us a little about yourself?

I undertook undergraduate studies in languages and linguistics and graduate studies in mathematical economics, work in the informational technology field, and have a lifelong devotion to rectifying China’s literature of history.

  Do you have any particular literary influences?  What inspired you to write your book?

What inspired me to write about history is that China’s literature of history needs rectification. The ancient history was lost as a result of Qin Emperor Shihuangdi’s burning of 213 B.C. The author has been writing about history online in a freelance style for twenty years. The ancient history in the Book is just a part of the scope of work. The focus now will shift back to the history about the Republic of China, with topics like “A History of Espionage, Sedition and Sabotage”, “The Civil Wars – Last Duel of the Middle Earth”, and “China At War (1931-1945)”, etc.

  What is the one message you would like to convey to your readers?

The Sinitic Civilization is not just another history book about China and its civilization, but a book with enumeration of historical facts on records, with the theme being that the more facts are presented and synthesized, the closer to truth the history becomes. The Book could be alternatively said to be about the historical facts, nothing but facts, and the readers, after consuming the facts, could make their own extrapolation or speculation. In the process of presenting the facts, the ancient forgeries, intentional or unintentional, as well as the myths and legends, were pierced by the facts. For two thousand years, the authenticity of the “ancient version” of the book Remotely Ancient History was debated, and for the last hundreds of years, the “contemporary version” of The Bamboo Annals was also being debated. It is hoped that this Book could end the historical debates once and for all. Armed with the historical facts presented in the book, the readers would find that their previous beliefs about the Chinese civilization and its history might need to be modified or completely changed.

  Are you working on a sequel to your book?

There will be a Book III that is to cover the history of China, from the 1st century A.D. to A.D. 1279, i.e., the Mongol conquest of China, that caused a loss of 80% of China’s population and broke the Sinitic nation’s spine. There could be a book dedicated to “The Barbarians”, that could cover the history up to the founding of the Republic of China in 1911. Those topics would have to be realigned to be after the completion of some of the history books on Republican China.

  Finally, what advice would you give to aspiring authors?

After writing freelance for twenty years, it was always a dream for the author to have the writings formatted into a book. The delay was worthwhile. During the delay, a lot of brainstorming work was done, which helped to perfect the themes. In the opinion of the author, the themes, subjects or arguments must be impeccable; otherwise, aspiring authors should continue the pursuit of truth and facts before finalizing the thoughts. Aspiring authors should always be encouraged to write their books, with an open mind of synthesizing the thread of themes and perfecting the thoughts along the way.

  Make sure to check out the iUniverse site for more advice and blogs, as well as iUniverse Facebook and iUniverse Twitter. For a FREE Publishing Guide, click here!

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