#wednesday lottery games

[lowaltitude]

Dial Tone 2 | Matt Rempe

- NHL, New York Rangers - x Reader

❪ FEM! ❫

───── ❝ description + disclaimer ❞ ─────

𖥻 Matthew Rempe x FEM!reader, in which a wrong number friendship is more than you'd hope for. OR he falls first, he falls hard, he's NYC's biggest enforcer.

𖥻 PART ONE HERE. 3.6k words

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I could barely contain my excitement as I sat in the bustling airport with my classmates, waiting for our flight to New York. My leg bounced with nervous energy, and I couldn’t stop smiling. I had been looking forward to this day for weeks, but now that it was finally here, the anticipation was almost too much to handle.

“Someone’s in a good mood,” my friend Lauren teased, nudging me with her elbow as she sipped on her overpriced airport coffee.

“I can’t help it,” I said, grinning from ear to ear. “We’re going to New York!”

“Yeah, but you look like you’ve just won the lottery or something,” she laughed, raising an eyebrow. “What’s got you so giddy?”

I bit my lip, trying to tone down my excitement. I couldn’t exactly tell her about Manhattan, about how I was going to surprise him by being in his city. The thought alone made me feel like a giddy schoolgirl with a crush.

“I guess I’m just excited to finally see the city,” I said, half-truthfully. “I’ve always wanted to go.”

“Well, it’s going to be amazing,” Lauren agreed, leaning back in her seat. “I can’t wait to explore. Have you got any plans for when we’re not at the conference?”

“Not really,” I lied. “I figured I’d just wander around, see where the city takes me.”

In reality, I had been meticulously planning out my free time, making sure I’d have the chance to visit some of the places Manhattan had mentioned in our conversations. Central Park, the Brooklyn Bridge, and maybe even that bagel place he’d raved about. But I wasn’t going to tell Lauren all of that. Not yet.

As we waited to board, my phone buzzed with a message from Manhattan. I glanced at the screen, my heart doing a little flip as I saw his name pop up.

Wednesday, May 29, 2024Today, 10:17 AM MANHATTAN: What are you up to today, San Diego?

I couldn’t help but smile as I typed out my response, the excitement of the trip making it hard to keep the secret.

ME: Just hanging out, nothing too crazy. How about you? :) MANHATTAN: Same here, just getting ready for another big game. A little exciting. What’s got you in such a good mood today?

He knew me too well. I hesitated for a moment, debating whether to drop a hint or keep the surprise going.

ME: Let’s just say I’ve got something fun planned. I’ll tell you all about it later. MANHATTAN: You’re killing me with suspense here, San Diego. Now I’m curious.

I chuckled, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves as I imagined his reaction when I finally told him—or when I maybe even bumped into him in his own city.

ME: Patience, Manhattan. You’ll find out soon enough. MANHATTAN: I guess I don’t have a choice. Just don’t keep me waiting too long.

I tucked my phone back into my bag, my smile refusing to fade. This trip was going to be unforgettable, and not just because of the conference. I could hardly wait to step off the plane and onto New York soil, knowing that Manhattan had no idea what was coming.

“Alright, they’re boarding our flight,” Lauren said, standing up and grabbing her bag. “You ready?”

“More than ready,” I said, grabbing my own bag and following her to the gate, my heart racing with anticipation. New York, here I come.

As the plane descended into New York, my excitement was at an all-time high. I couldn’t wait to explore the city, but more than that, I couldn’t wait to surprise Manhattan. The plan was simple: I’d head to his college, catch one of his hockey games, and finally meet him in person. I could already picture the look on his face when he saw me there.

After dropping my bags off at the hotel and freshening up, I decided to send him a quick message. I needed to get some information without giving away my plan.

ME: Hey, how’s hockey going? My friend is heading to New York soon, and I was thinking maybe she could grab me a hoodie from your college. ME: Which college do you go to again?

I stared at my phone, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement as I watched the typing bubble appear. I wondered if he’d catch on to what I was trying to do, but he probably thought I was just being curious.

The typing bubble kept appearing and disappearing, and I felt my anticipation build. What was taking him so long?

Finally, his message came through.

MANHATTAN: Long Island University. Let’s go Sharks! 🦈

I smiled to myself, mentally filing away the information. LIU. Perfect. Now I just needed to find out when their next game was and how to get there. The idea of seeing him in action, playing the sport he was so passionate about, made me even more excited.

ME: Cool! I’ll definitely ask her to grab me one. LIU sounds like a great school. MANHATTAN: It is. I’m really enjoying it here. Hockey’s been great too.

I leaned back in my seat, feeling a rush of excitement. Everything was falling into place. In just a few days, I’d be at LIU, watching him play, and he had no idea what was coming.

ME: Glad to hear it! Maybe one day I’ll get to see you play in person. MANHATTAN: I’d like that. But for now, you’ll just have to settle for the hoodie 😉

I laughed, feeling a surge of anticipation. He had no idea that “one day” was much sooner than he thought.

ME: I guess I will. But who knows what the future holds? MANHATTAN: True. The future’s full of surprises.

I couldn’t agree more. Little did he know, the biggest surprise was about to come his way. I tucked my phone away, feeling more determined than ever. Tomorrow, I’d make my way to LIU, ready to see Manhattan in his element. This trip was turning out to be more thrilling than I’d ever imagined.

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The next morning, I woke up early, my heart racing with anticipation. Today was the day I’d finally see Manhattan play hockey. After a quick breakfast with my classmates, I made up an excuse about needing some time alone to explore the city. They didn’t ask too many questions, which was a relief. I wasn’t sure how I’d explain that I was sneaking off to surprise a guy I’d never actually met in person.

With my bag slung over my shoulder, I set off toward Long Island University. The city buzzed with energy as I navigated the subway system, and I could hardly keep still as I imagined what the game would be like. What would he look like on the ice? Would I recognize him immediately?

When I finally arrived at LIU’s campus, I felt a rush of excitement. The rink was larger than I expected, and the atmosphere was alive with the buzz of college sports. I spotted a few people in Sharks gear and made a mental note to grab a hoodie later—something to remember this day by.

Just as I was about to head inside, my phone buzzed with a message from Manhattan.

Thursday, May 30, 2024Today, 9:00 AM MANHATTAN: What are you up to today?

I hesitated for a moment, torn between keeping the surprise and telling him something closer to the truth.

ME: Just wandering around, checking out some new places. You? MANHATTAN: Nothing too exciting, just got some practice. Gotta stay sharp for the game tomorrow.

My heart skipped a beat. If he was heading to practice, that meant he’d be at the rink soon. I grinned, feeling like everything was falling perfectly into place.

ME: Busy day for you then. Good luck with practice!

I tucked my phone away and stepped into the rink. The cool air hit me immediately, a stark contrast to the warm, bustling city outside. I found a seat near the middle, close enough to see the action but far enough to stay somewhat hidden. The rink was buzzing with the energy of casual practice, but I didn’t see anyone who looked like Manhattan.

Confused, I glanced at my phone again, but decided to focus on enjoying the moment. Maybe everything would still work out.

As the few players on the ice began to pack up, I couldn't contain my curiosity any longer. With a mix of nerves and excitement, I made my way down to the edge of the rink where the three boys were gathering their gear. They looked friendly enough, chatting and laughing as they peeled off their jerseys.

"Hi there," I greeted them tentatively, hoping not to intrude.

"Hey," one of them replied with a smile, while another gave a nod in acknowledgment.

Feeling a bit bolder, I held up the picture of Manhattan that I had saved on my phone. "Do you guys happen to know him?" I asked, trying to keep my voice casual.

The boy closest to me glanced at the picture and furrowed his brow. "Is this a test, or a bad joke?" he replied, a hint of confusion in his voice.

I blinked, taken aback by his reaction. "No, not at all," I said quickly. "He's a hockey player, right?"

The boy let out a chuckle, exchanging a glance with his teammate who rolled his eyes. "Yeah, he's a hockey player," he replied, his tone slightly mocking. With that, he skated off towards the locker rooms, his friend following close behind.

Left standing there, I turned to the last boy who was gathering his equipment. "Do you know where I can find him?" I asked, my voice tinged with disappointment.

He shrugged apologetically. "I don't know, maybe try MSG or something," he suggested, referring to Madison Square Garden. With that, he picked up his stick and followed his teammates off the ice, leaving me feeling confused and unsure of what to do next.

I stared after them for a moment, my heart sinking. Maybe this was a mistake after all.

Feeling disheartened and unsure of what had just transpired at the rink, I made my way back to the hotel. My mind was still spinning with confusion and disappointment over not finding any trace of Manhattan. As I walked through the lobby, Lauren immediately noticed something was off.

"What's wrong?" she asked, concern etched on her face.

I forced a smile, trying to brush off my disappointment. "Nothing, just tired," I replied vaguely.

To cheer me up, she leaned in conspiratorially. "Hey, you like hockey, right? There's some playoffs happening tomorrow, and apparently they're really shitty seats, but Professor Tenner says we can all go since it's included in the expo."

Her attempt to lift my spirits caught my attention. Playoffs sounded exciting, and even though I was still reeling from the day's events, the prospect of attending a hockey game in New York City was enticing, even if it wasn't one of Manhattan's games like I'd hoped.

"Really?" I perked up, feeling a glimmer of excitement return. "That sounds like fun. I could use a distraction."

She nodded eagerly. "Exactly! We'll forget about everything and just enjoy the game."

I nodded in agreement, grateful for her effort to turn things around. Perhaps the disappointment of today would fade with the thrill of tomorrow's game.

───── ❝ ❞ ─────

As we rode the subway towards Madison Square Garden, the excitement of the upcoming hockey playoffs managed to distract me momentarily from the strange encounter at LIU's rink earlier. The subway car was filled with fans dressed in jerseys, hats, and scarves, all buzzing with anticipation for the game. It was contagious, and I couldn't help but smile as I saw the neon signs outside the arena proclaiming, "NEW YORK RANGERS VS FLORIDA PANTHERS, 2-2 TIED SERIES."

Glancing at my phone, I noticed several unread messages from Manhattan. They started off flirty, but the last few were increasingly concerned:

Friday, May 31, 2024Today, 7:00 PM MANHATTAN: Made my sister take this so you can see how hard it is being so tall and attractive

MANHATTAN: Hey, haven't heard from you all day. Everything okay? ❤️ MANHATTAN: Did something happen? You're acting weird. MANHATTAN: Seriously, just let me know you're okay. MANHATTAN: San Diego??? MANHATTAN: I'm starting to get worried now. Please, just tell me what's going on.

Each message tugged at my conscience, but right now, with the game looming ahead and the vibrant energy of the city around me, I couldn't bring myself to reply. Turning off my phone, I focused on the lively scene outside as we emerged from the subway. Madison Square Garden towered above us, its exterior adorned with banners and flags of the Rangers. The atmosphere was electric, filled with the chatter of excited fans and vendors selling snacks and memorabilia.

My friend nudged me excitedly. "This is going to be awesome," she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

I nodded, a surge of anticipation building within me. Stepping into the bustling concourse of the arena, I marveled at the sea of blue and red jerseys, each person radiating their team pride. It was infectious, and I found myself caught up in the excitement of being part of such a passionate crowd.

Finding our seats, I couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for not responding to Manhattan's messages. I promised myself I would explain everything later, after the game. Right now, I needed to immerse myself in the thrill of playoff hockey and enjoy this unforgettable experience in the heart of New York City.

Just before the game began, one last text came in from Manhattan. The notification popped up on my screen, and I couldn't ignore it any longer:

MANHATTAN: Starting to think I messed things up. Please talk to me. I have to go, but PLEASE tell me you're okay.

The urgency in his message was palpable, and it weighed heavily on my mind. I knew I owed him an explanation, but right now, surrounded by the anticipation of the playoff game at Madison Square Garden, I couldn't find the words to reply.

My friend noticed my troubled expression and gently asked, "Everything okay?"

I hesitated for a moment, torn between the excitement of the moment and the guilt of leaving Manhattan hanging. "Yeah, just some stuff going on," I replied vaguely, hoping she wouldn't press further.

She nodded understandingly, sensing my reluctance to talk about it. "Well, let's focus on the game. It's going to be amazing!"

I managed a small smile, grateful for her distraction. As the national anthem played and the teams took the ice, the crowd erupted into cheers. The energy of the arena was infectious, and I found myself swept up in the excitement despite my lingering worries about Manhattan.

As the players came out and the game began, the atmosphere inside Madison Square Garden was electric. The puck dropped, and the game progressed smoothly until midway through the second period. Number 73, newly on the ice, was skating hard when suddenly, number 91 from the opposing team delivered a hard hit. The crowd erupted into shouts and boos as the large screen replayed the hit, the referees finally calling a penalty.

In the midst of the chaos, the camera panned back to the live action, focusing on New York Rangers' number 73 as he removed his helmet. And there he was—Manhattan.

My heart skipped a beat as I watched him on the screen, his presence confirming that the mystery friend who had been texting me was indeed using a picture of Matt Rempe. Confusion and disbelief flooded my mind. Had I been lied to this whole time? Was this some elaborate prank or misunderstanding?

As Manhattan skated off the ice, I felt a mix of emotions—surprise, disappointment, and a tinge of betrayal. The crowd's cheers and the game's intensity became distant background noise as I tried to process everything. The realization that Manhattan was real and here, playing hockey in front of me, collided with the unsettling feeling that someone had deceived me.

I glanced at my friend beside me, who was still cheering enthusiastically for the Rangers. She turned to me with a bright smile. "This is amazing, right?"

"Yeah," I managed to reply, forcing a smile while my mind raced with unanswered questions.

As the game continued, I couldn't tear my eyes away from Manhattan on the ice. Despite the whirlwind of emotions, one thing was clear—there was much more to this story than I had ever imagined.

On the way out of the game, the crowd slowly dispersing around us, I couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal and confusion. I pulled out my phone and hesitated for a moment before typing out a message to Manhattan.

ME: So, was this all just a joke? Using someone else's photos to pretend to be someone you're not?

The message hung in the air, my thumb hovering over the send button. I felt a mix of anger and hurt, wanting desperately for there to be some explanation that would make sense of everything. But as the seconds ticked by, doubts crept in. What if I had been naive to believe in this connection all along?

My friend glanced over at me, sensing my unease. "You okay?" she asked gently.

I forced a smile, trying to mask the turmoil inside. "Yeah, just… something came up," I replied vaguely, my voice betraying my uncertainty.

Finally, I pressed send, the message disappearing into the digital abyss. As we made our way through the bustling streets of New York City, I couldn't shake the sinking feeling that the person I thought I knew as Manhattan might not be who he claimed to be after all.

The crowd outside Madison Square Garden buzzed with post-game energy, but my focus was solely on my phone, waiting for Manhattan’s reply. The seconds dragged on before my screen lit up with his response.

MANHATTAN: What? A joke? What are you talking about?

I clenched my jaw, frustrated by his confusion. How could he not understand?

ME: I saw you. Or, I guess I saw the real you. You’ve been sending me photos of a hockey player this whole time, pretending it was you. Matt Rempe. Ring a bell?

I hit send, my emotions swirling between hurt and anger. Was this his way of getting a laugh? Why string me along like this?

His response came quickly this time.

MANHATTAN: Wait, what? I didn’t lie to you, I swear. I don’t even know what you’re talking about.

I scoffed at my phone. Was he really going to keep this act up?

ME: You sent me his photo. Matt Rempe. Number 73 for the Rangers. I saw him on the ice tonight.

My hands were shaking slightly as I typed, overwhelmed by everything. How could he keep denying it when I’d literally just seen Matt?

There was a longer pause before his next message.

MANHATTAN: I didn’t lie. I never pretended to be someone else. I’m really confused right now. How did you… how did you see me?

My breath caught. Why did he sound so genuine? My mind scrambled to piece it together. How could he not know that I’d seen the very guy whose pictures he’d been sending? It didn’t make sense.

I typed again, my heart pounding.

ME: I saw him play. I was at the Rangers game tonight. You’ve been using his pictures this whole time, and now I feel like an idiot for believing you.

There was another long pause, and I could imagine him, wherever he was, sitting there trying to figure out what had just happened.

The longer I waited, the more the knot in my stomach tightened. Finally, my phone buzzed again with his reply.

MANHATTAN: I’m so confused. How did you end up at a Rangers game? I never sent you anyone else’s photos. I swear. I don’t even know what’s going on right now. ME: I came here for a school trip. I wanted to surprise you, so I went to what you told me was your University yesterday to see you play hockey. I thought it’d be this cute moment, but you weren’t there. Some guys at the rink acted weird when I asked about you, and I couldn’t figure it out. Then today, at the game, I saw Matt Rempe... The guy in the photos you’ve been sending me. MANHATTAN: Wait. You’re in New York? You went looking for me??? MANHATTAN: Okay, this is all a big misunderstanding, and I need you to believe me. I’m not lying. I am Matt Rempe. ME: No, you're not. Stop it. If this is your way of messing with me, just admit it. Why would you pretend to be someone like him? You think I wouldn’t find out? MANHATTAN: I’m not pretending. I didn’t want to lie to you, but I also didn’t want to throw all that stuff at you so fast. I’m sorry if it feels like I’ve been hiding things, but I wasn’t trying to trick you. I swear. ME: So what, you’re just Matt Rempe all of a sudden? I’m supposed to believe that you’re the guy I watched get slammed on the ice tonight? MANHATTAN: Yes. I wanted to tell you but we became friends and never stopped the little nickname thing, this isn’t how I wanted you to find out.

I stared at the message, my head spinning. How could this be true? I couldn't wrap my mind around it.

[stabbyfoxandrew]

Hiii

Yes this is me requesting some more arsonist Neil/firefighter Andrew for the upteenth time but I just love them xD

I slept very little last night but I woke up to today's part and it made the morning bearable so thank you

I hope you have a good week! :D

WIP Wednesday (10/23) | Arsonist Neil / Firefighter Andrew AU (Part 250)

"Oh, just look at that smug bastard. He knows he's getting away with murder." 10 gripes, as if Andrew isn't watching. But he is watching and said smug bastard is indeed a smug bastard, standing with his arms crossed like he's untouchable while the officials review the footage. They come back, agreeing that the trip wasn't intention and 10 huffs out an angry little sound. "It was so. I hope Moreau puts him on his back."

Andrew snorts at that. Because, in the Jaguars' little three-man huddle, that's probably exactly what he's threatening to do. Andrew can almost hear his voice, accent and all: 'If that motherfucker tries to trip either of you, I'll break his neck'.

Jeremy puts his hand on Moreau's chest, grinning while he talks: 'Don't do that, babe. Just knock him out.'

'Hey,' Kevin shakes his head and points to the scoreboard. 'No killing and maiming. This is exy, the greatest sport in the world. Blah, blah, blah, I'm Kevin, blah, blah.'

Suddenly 10 laughs, a cacophony of pretty noises. "Oh my God, are you doing voices for them?"

Andrew's entire body goes warm with embarrassment. He stares at his phone, then coughs. "...No."

"Yes you were! That's so fun. Do it again." 10 says, smiling through the speaker. Andrew looks back at the screen where the camera is now pointed at the Panthers' goal for some reason. The only person in frame is the goalie and Andrew knows the goalie mind well. It's likely she's thinking about anything but the game.

"I wonder how giraffes give birth. Fuck, I want pizza. Where'd Diaz go? Oh, there he is. Hi Diaz. When's the game starting back? Do you belieeeeve in life after love? I can feel something—" The camera cuts back to the Jaguars, the whole team is gathered around Kevin who has a whiteboard in his hand.

"I'm Kevin Day and this is how you draw a cat. First you start with a circle, wait no this is a line. Maybe this time, nope. Another line. Skinny cat it is—" The buzzer sounds and Kevin drops his whiteboard as his team starts to file back onto the court. Andrew lets the silly voice fall away to hear 10 losing his mine with laughter on the other end. It warms him in a different way, embarrassment fading to fondness.

"Hey," 10 says as he recovers. "Do you think Kevin could draw a cat?"

"I don't think Kevin could draw a circle unless you told him to draw an exy ball." Andrew answers. Then the two of them fall mostly silent as the game picks back up.

Whether he likes to admit it or not, seeing Kevin in his element is always a thrill. Especially now that he's completely free from the Moriyamas and playing because he loves it and not because he's shackled to the court. (He still lives on it, of course. But he's free to leave when he likes and his stupid boyfriends ensure he doesn't overexert himself. So Andrew supposes they're good for something.)

Kevin scores a goal and 10 cheers like he just won the lottery. Andrew merely huffs. He would've blocked that. Just to be a dick to Kevin. He doesn't miss playing, not at all. Perhaps it's that he enjoys the familiarity of the game. Or just knowing that Kevin playing is justice for all the bullshit he suffered under Riko's and Tetsuji's hands. 

Listening to 10's commentary is new. Andrew enjoys it as well. 10 carries colorful insults and scathing critiques in that pretty mouth of his. Andrew would like to lick them out.

[darkphoenix5037]

Home

Hey guys, I am a bit new to the fandom and this is my first fanfiction about any BTS members. Please be kind.

I hope you all like it.

TW-Mafia, Yandere, Non-consensual touching, breaking in, Kidnapping, stalking, threats.

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The weather was exceptionally warm as the sun slowly went down. It was sunny, and you had to squint your eyes as you watched the children at the swings in the playground. It was already 4:30 and most parents were late.

This was not a perk at the rich day care/school you worked at. Even though most parents had hours for personal grooming, poker at the country clubs or golf games, they were late to pick up their kids.

Always late with the same lines.

“It was a rather interesting game at the club!”

“The traffic was atrocious!” (Lies, It was far from rush hour)

Blah, Blah, Blah.

It was the same, every day.

As you was lost in your thoughts, you felt a hand on her shoulder. you looked up to her fellow teacher, Nicole.

“Have you seen that gentleman here before?” She asked pointing to a man on the other side of the playground’s fence. The man stood a few meters away, dressed in all black with a blond mullet. His long black coat accentuated his height making him seem like giant, you could tell he was well-built even at a distance.

“No. Should I ask?”

“Yeah”

You walked up to the man slowly, who looked at you as you neared, he took off his sunglasses as you neared. He was attractive, very attractive, dragon eyes, plump lips, smooth skin and jaw that could cut diamonds. He definitely won the genetic lottery, you thought.

“Hi, I am a teacher here. I was wondering if you were looking for someone, I haven’t seen you here before?”

The man smiled at her genially and said,” No, no I was just waiting for a colleague, his son studies here. I think his name was Mingyu? He was supposed to pick him up and drop him at home before we headed for a drink. It seems he is late.”

Gods, his voice could make men and woman weak in the knees.

“Oh, yeah Mr. Lee comes a bit late, I think he is stuck at work or that’s what he says. Anyways, I must get back to the kids. Sorry for bothering you.”

“No problem” His eyes had a strange glint in them.

You turned and headed toward Nicole quickly.

“He is waiting for Mr. Lee, Mingyu’s father, they were supposed to meet here.” you reassured Nicole.

“He is quite handsome, isn’t he? He was staring at you the whole time you were walking towards me.” She mused.

“I suppose he is.”

Nicole was about say something when Mr. Lee hurriedly neared the fence to pick up Mingyu. He didn’t notice the man as he picked his son up.

As soon as he did notice him, he went a bit pale. As if he had seen a ghost, he spoke something to the man. you couldn’t make out what he spoke. But the other man responded cheerfully and took Mr. Lee by the shoulders and walked him towards the direction of his home.

“Well that a bit strange.” Nicole murmured.

“Maybe he was a bit embarrassed to be late? Who cares?” you said.

“Yeah”

Nothing was said after that.

………………………………

“Don't turn around,” you whispered to Nicole and Hari, eyes firmly set on the tall frame of a familiar man that walked into the small coffee shop you and your friends had met up at. When they moved to turn, you hissed at them and they stopped mid-movement. Hari raised a brow at you in question.

“You remember the guy from last Wednesday? He's here, standing in the line. Second to last, tall, wearing a leather jacket and black boots. Don't make it obvious,” you said in a hushed tone.

You and Nicole had told Hari everything about the handsome mystery man and had listened to her moaning about how she would've loved to see him too because he sounded like a real snack from the way you were describing him. Well, now he was here and you weren't about to deprive her of the sight that he was.

“Damn, those shoulders are looking really-” Hari started as she swivelled in her chair to sit sideways on it and glance at the man. But she trailed off when she saw his face as he turned it in their general direction. She visibly blanched, immediately turning on the chair and facing you again.

“Do you know who that is?” she asked, her tone lowered as she leaned forward. You frowned, briefly glancing at the handsome specimen before shrugging and turning your gaze back to her.

“That is Kim Namjoon. I heard some nasty things about him from a friend. Haechan, you know him. He got involved with the wrong people and ended up being in Kim's debt. Let me tell you, that man is not someone you want to be indebted to,” she whispered frantically.

You would've shrugged this off as rumours, exaggerations or simply misconceptions and lies, but the scared look on your usually so collected friend's face made you stop. And the memory of this man, Namjoon, talking to the father outside the kindergarten. You knew something had been off. The way the man shifted slightly to stand in front of his child, his and the little one's discomfort. And Namjoon's imposing stance.

“I... are you sure? It does sound a little farfetched,” you tried weakly, but the look your friend gave you silenced any doubtful voices piping up in the back of your head.

“I'm serious. I don't know how Haechan got out of this unharmed, but he was really messed up afterwards. These gang people or whatever they are, mobsters, bikers, all the same, don't play games. You would do good to stay away from him if you ever come across him again.”

You nodded mutely, still watching Namjoon over Hari's shoulder. You froze when his gaze suddenly found yours.

“He's watching,” you bit out, trying not to move your lips and give yourself away, “What am I supposed to do?”

“Smile briefly and then look back at me, acting like we're deep in conversation,” she said quickly and then started to babble on about her week at work and the little fight she and her girlfriend had gotten into on Tuesday.

Meanwhile you sent a small smile Namjoon's way, acknowledging your recognition, and then turned your attention back to your still talking friend. You focused solely on her, nodding and laughing along as she told you about meaningless things.

You could still feel his eyes on you as you watched her talk.

………………………………

The following week was... anxiety inducing. You didn't know why, but Namjoon seemed to be following you around.

At first you tried to tell yourself you were simply paranoid and his appearances were mere coincidences. It wasn't uncommon to meet the same people at a supermarket or a coffee shop.

But the little book shop you'd discovered a few years ago, the one that was a hole on the wall, the one where you had never seen him ever, raised some concerns.

Then the tall menace started turning up along your way to work and back home, or lingered around the kindergarten, you were starting to grow restless and afraid. You had told Hari and Nicole about your observations and fears. After a talk with them, you had picked up the daily routine of texting one of them whenever you arrived at work and then got back home after.

Your suggestion to go to the police had been vehemently refused. It wouldn't be any good, Hari had told you. All it would do was get you more of his unwanted attention. So, you lived with your growing paranoia.

The aforementioned paranoia and anxiety skyrocketed at the end of the Monday after the first week of his eerie following you around.

You had just slung your backpack over your shoulder and were stepping out of the kindergarten building, your face turned up to the sky to soak up the afternoon sun, when a low hum from your right made you jump. Your eyes snapped open and your head whipped around. Your heart stuttered in your chest when you saw who had made the sound.

It was him. Namjoon stood casually leaned against the brick wall of the building you had just exited, his arms crossed over his broad chest. He smirked at your startled reaction.

“Hey there, princess. Didn't mean to startle you,” he said, not looking one bit sorry. You laughed nervously.

“Uh, it's alright. I wasn't paying attention,” you said quietly and glanced away from him. His staring was making you uncomfortable, the way he dragged his gaze over your body, taking in every inch before returning to your face. Nervousness made your heart beat a little faster.

“You're off to home then?” Namjoon asked, still watching you intently. You fidgeted on the spot, feet shifting and fingers digging into the straps of your backpack.

“uh-huh, just locked up,” you said and then cleared your throat nervously, “Well, I better get going.”

But when you started walking, Namjoon pushed away from the wall, matching your steps as you hastily scurried down the sidewalk.

“So eager to leave, sweetheart?” Namjoon joked, then added, “Oh, the name's Namjoon by the way. But I suppose you know that already judging by your behaviour. That's fine. I know yours, too.”

He proved that immediately by calling out your name again. Your heart stuttered.

You gulped, heart fluttering anxiously as you tried to come up with a response.

“Uhm, yeah. I've... heard of you,” you eventually got out, nervously glancing his way. He was still watching you with those dragon like eyes of his, a smirk curling the side of his mouth when he caught you peeking.

“No need to look so scared, sweetheart. I'm not going about hurting pretty things like you. Not really my style. You're perfectly safe with me.”

So, he knew that you had heard of his business. Or he at least suspected that you had. The lack of expression and your silence spoke volumes.

When you didn't reply to his utterance, he let out a low chuckle. It was a rich sound, full of amusement and something you would've enjoyed if it wasn't for the man making the sound.

“How about this, I take you out to dinner tomorrow and we can get to know each other better. You'll see that there's nothing to be afraid of. I can pick you up after work,” he suggested.

Your breath seized in your chest and your step faltered, almost making you stumble. Namjoon's hands shot out, grabbing onto your waist to steady you. His touch lingered as he told you to be more careful, palms sliding along your side and briefly settling on your hips and giving them a squeeze before he let the wandering appendages fall away.

“I- uh, I can't. Sorry,” you rushed out, your skin crawling from his touch. Then, without further ado, you rushed away, almost running as you rounded the next corner. You threw a look over your shoulder as you scurried over the sidewalk, but Namjoon was nowhere to be seen.

………………………………

To your misery and anger, your rejection didn't seem to deter Namjoon. He kept showing up at your work, joining you on your way to or from work. You were certain he knew by now where you lived. He would talk when he walked beside you, his long steps always catching up with yours no matter how fast you were walking, trying to escape him.

Namjoon didn't seem to mind that you didn't answer except to decline another offer at dinner or a drink. Every time you told him no, he merely chuckled in that amused way, as if you were just being silly, as if you were playing had to get  and would eventually come around.

Well, you weren't.

Not if you could help it.

As if his oppressing presence wasn't enough Namjoon started to get handsy. Nothing serious, but the lingering touches on your waist or the way his hand would brush against yours when he was once more harassing you on your way to work were making you uncomfortable.

It was like a promise.

A promise of more than just slight touches and caresses. The thought made your skin crawl.

It made you nauseous with fear and anxiety.

It got worse when he started waiting outside your apartment building when you left for work in the morning. He even stood right in front of the door to your apartment, scaring the shit out of you when you swung it opened and stepped outside, only to leap back inside and slam the wooden barrier in his face. You'd waited for several minutes, but he wasn't leaving and you had to get to work.

“Come on out, princess. You'll be late to work,” he had taunted through the door, mocking you until you opened it again and stormed past him without sparing him a glance.

He upped his game by sending you flowers and other presents, jewellery, gift cards. A set of lacy underwear and bra was by far the most unpleasant one.

All of it was eating away at you, especially because you had no one to talk to about this madness. You had stopped telling your friend, assuring her you were fine and Namjoon had moved on because you didn't want her to worry about you constantly. You regretted your decision more and more with every day that passed, each one taking a bit of your sanity with it.

You were slowly going mad, paranoia a constant companion and your anxiety too happy to remind you of the looming presence of the dubious man every time you managed to push the thought of him out of your mind for more than a couple of minutes.

The fourth week into the madness you had started sleeping with knife by your bed side.

You slept with one arm dangling over the side of the bed so you'd be able to quickly grasp the knife should it be necessary. You practiced it for hours.

Your sleep was light since this whole thing had started, disturbances not uncommon.

That led to you being sleep deprived, agitated and short-tempered most of the time. But you had to reign it in at work. The children weren't at fault and they didn't deserve any harshness from you. So, you kept it bottled up, the toxic mix of frustration, anger, fear and lack of sleep festering away inside your chest.

………………………………

The deadly cocktail boiled over after a long and particularly trying day at work. The children had been disobedient and out for trouble, stirring up fights and causing all kinds of mischief. The only reprieve you got, was when you stepped outside after work was over and there was no sight of Namjoon. He didn't appear on your way home either.

But even that tiny bit of peace was destroyed when you unlocked the door to your apartment and stepped inside to find a bouquet of flowers sitting in one of your vases on the counter of your open-plan living room.

                                                           

You certainly hadn't put them there.

He had been in your home. He had gone through your stuff to find the vase and then placed the flowers in it, putting them right there in your kitchen. He had been in your home.

The one place you thought could be safe.

The terror inside you spiked and you sprinted into the bedroom, grabbing the knife from your bedside table and then searching your apartment inch by inch to make sure the horrible man wasn't anywhere in your not-so-safe-anymore place.

When you returned to the kitchen, you slumped into a chair that stood by the counter with the flowers on it. You put the knife down beside you and glowered at the pretty bundle of colourful flowers. You chewed on the inside of your cheek, angrily staring at the bouquet. The longer you looked at it, the angrier you became.

How dare he to come into your life and turn it upside down?

How dare he harass and follow you, touch you without your permission?

And most of all, how dare he break into your place?

You were mad. The lack of sleep, anger, frustration and fear of the last weeks finally becoming too much as you sat there and stewed in your own dark thoughts.

A loud knock startled you out of your vengeful thoughts, your gaze snapping up and zeroing in on the front door. Another knock came and you growled.

“I swear to god, if that is his bitch ass on the other side of that door...” you cursed under your breath, grabbing the knife and tucking into  the waistband on your jeans at your back. You felt like a criminal yourself as you stomped over to the door, ready to do whatever was necessary to finally get the obsessive man to lay off you.

You ripped the door open and your nostrils flared at the sight of Namjoon. It was indeed him, his usual smirk peeking out and taunting you as you stood in the door frame, shaking with rage. But before you could utter a single word, the man stepped forward, shouldering his way past you and into your flat. He pushed you out of the way and closed the door behind himself.

“How do you like the little surprise I left you?” he asked as he casually strolled through the room as if he owned the place. It made you snap out of your stupor.

“I don't give a shit about you or your presents. Leave my fucking home,” you growled and pointed at the door, your hand trembling.

Namjoon just laughed, tilting his head as he eyed you with slightly raised eyebrows.

“My kitten has claws after all. Where does that courage come from all of a sudden?” he taunted. “Not that I don't appreciate it. I enjoy a little fire in my woman. What I don't appreciate however, is that attitude you have going on, baby girl.”

“Don't call me that, asshole. I'm not your woman. I'm not your sweetheart or baby girl. I'm not your anything. All you are to me is a nuisance and I would appreciate it if you got the fuck out of my home and my life,” you hissed, voice wavering with rage.

“Careful, doll. Don't test my patience,” Namjoon said, the smirk gone and a steely expression in its place. You gulped and took a step back. But you didn't give up. You wouldn't, not so easily.

“I know you're probably not often told no, but I will do so, have done so. I am doing it right now. No, I don't want to go out with you, I don't want anything to do with you. Now please leave my home,” you pressed out between gritted teeth, forcing yourself to be firm but as calm as possible.

“Oh, sweetheart,” Namjoon started, slowly walking closer with his hands in his pockets, “You sound like you believe you have any say in this. One thing you are right about though. I'm not told no. I haven’t been told no since I took these streets, this city, this country. No one tells me no. You certainly don't tell me no.”

He came even closer, closing the distance between the two of you.

“And I will have you one way or another. You're mine and I decided as such, whether you like it or not. Accepting it makes it easier for both of us. Be good for me and I'll be good to you.”

He was closer now, almost at an arm's length. He pulled his hands from his pockets.

That was the last push you needed. That man wasn't going to give up, he had told you as much. You reached behind your back and pulled the knife out of your jeans. You brought it up in front of you, and brandished it threateningly at the blonde .

Namjoon's eyebrows rose up so high it looked like they were trying to escape into his hairline. It seemed you had managed to take him by surprise. After overcoming his initial surprise, Namjoon chuckled. This time it sounded almost impressed.

“When I woke up this morning, I certainly didn't expect my day would end like this,” he admitted, staring down the knife at your angry, but afraid face.

“You certainly have more guts than I gave you credit for. But who can blame me, really. You always seemed like such a timid thing. So sweet and friendly.”

You huffed. As if he knew anything about you. He only knew what he could gather from his obsessive stalking. He didn't know the first thing about the real you, the you, you were when you were alone or with your friends.

Namjoon's next condescending words pulled you from your upset musings.

“Do you even know how to use that, princess?” he asked, his tone obviously implying he didn't believe you did.

“My mother taught me,” you answered curtly.

“Did she now?” Namjoon said in a low voice, a threatening edge lacing his words. You didn't miss the dangerous glint in his eyes. You tried not to be intimidated by it.

“Find something fleshy and push.”

Your mother hadn't taught you how to stab. You didn't know the first thing about it. Your knowledge extended exactly to what you had just said. 'find something fleshy and push'.

“Is that so...” he said, his voice still threateningly low as he stepped closer, startling you when he approached until the knife was pressed right up against his throat.

Your hands trembled, fingers sweaty on the handle as you stared up at Namjoon, trying hard to hide your terror. It became stronger with the second, replacing the mindless rage that had guided your actions when you pulled the knife in your grasp.

Now you weren't sure about this anymore at all. And Namjoon knew it. You could tell by the victorious look in his eyes, the way the corner of his lips tilted up ever so slightly. Before you could further ponder and weigh your options, several things happened at the same time.

Namjoon moved, grabbing your wrist and twisting it until you let out a cry of pain and let go of the weapon. It was ripped from your grasp, the safety put on and then tossed to the other end of the room where it clattered noisily to the ground. Your legs were kicked out from under you and you fell to your knees. Namjoon's weight came crushing down on you, both your wrists gathered in one of his big hands and held above your head as he took you off your knees and pressed you flat to the ground, facing him.

Your lower half was restrained by his heavy body, legs tangled in his and unmovable. Your breath was coming in harsh pants as you tried to come to grips with what had just occurred in the span of the last five seconds. When you did, you began to struggle, shaken out of your shocked stupor.

“Let go,” you wheezed, his weight pressing down on you not only immobilising you, but also making it hard to breathe properly.

“No can do, baby,” Namjoon said, his breath puffing over your face as he held himself above you. He shifted, keeping your legs immobilised as he sat up, taking your upper body with his and pulling you up by your wrist as he got up fully. You stumbled to your feet, losing your balance from the sudden change in position and his impatient jerking.

Unable to catch yourself with your hands, you face-planted into his firm chest with a little 'oof', making him chuckle as he pulled you back and shifted your wrists from one hand into the other. His free hand reached up and brushed your dishevelled hair away from your flushed face.

You cringed away from his touch, shrinking in on yourself and pulling your shoulders up. He ignored your obvious distaste, grasping your chin between his long fingers and keeping your nervous gaze directed at his.

“I would really hate to punish you, princess. Behave,” he said coolly as he eyed you intently, taking in your dilated pupils and the fluttering of your pulse beneath the thin skin on your throat. His eyes followed the bob of your throat when you gulped.

All your earlier bravado was gone, the rage fuelled resistance and bravery all but obliterated by the man standing in front of you.

“I couldn't stop thinking about you after you approached me that day at the fence,” he said, still staring down at you. His touch on your face wandered, fingers drawing along your jawline and then tracing the shape of your cheekbones. You didn't dare move, your breath shallow as he kept touching you.

“Your pretty smile and beautiful eyes... I knew I had to have you,” he continued, his thumb tracing your bottom lip. “So, I watched, I waited. I had to learn more about you before I could take you. Gotta make sure I know all I can so I can take care of my woman properly.”

A shiver wrecked your frame at his sick and twisted words.

“As for the things I couldn't find out...” his touch wandered lower, caressing your throat and then moving even further to drag his fingertips across the tops of your breasts, “Well, I'll just have to see for myself. I'm a fast learner. Adept. I'm sure you'll come to appreciate it very soon, princess. I may not be a good man princess but I will be good to you. In all ways possible.”

You shook your head weakly, a whimpered, “No, please” leaving your lips. Namjoon shushed you, hand coming to rest on your throat. He didn't squeeze, but you knew he would if you made a wrong move.

“Now, don't act up baby. I know you're a good girl, so I will forgive your earlier outbreak. Continue being bad and you'll come to regret it very soon,” he said, slightly tightening his grip on both your wrists and throat.

Tears rose in your eyes. They were tears of despair as the reality of the situation finally sunk in. You weren't going to get away from him. He wasn't going to stop even if you did manage to escape his clutches in some miraculous way. He had claimed you as his, chosen you and decided to take you without asking your opinion or stopping to take your feelings into consideration.

Kim Namjoon took what he wanted and he wasn't told no. He was never told no.

You didn't struggle when Namjoon dragged you over to your front door, pulling you out of your apartment and guiding you down the stairs, catching you several times when you missed a step or two in your haze.

He was muttering quiet reassurances the whole way, brushing his hands across your body, squeezing and grabbing without your consent. When you stepped out onto the sidewalk, your gaze rose from the ground and landed on a black car standing on the side of the street a couple of feet away.

Namjoon followed your line of sight, reading the silent question on your features.

“I'm going to take you home, princess. Our home.”

[holycatsandrabbits]

134 years ago today the Ouija Board had its commercial introduction as a harmless parlor game.

A Ouija board is a rectangle of wood or cardboard printed with the alphabet, the numbers 0-9 and the words yes, no, and goodbye. Players put their fingers on a triangular planchette and ask questions of the spirits, who answer by moving the planchette around the board. Of course, we know how this goes: it’s malicious entities who respond and then they kill everybody. That’s the trope. But it wasn’t always like that.

The Ouija began as a benign religious practice of Civil War-era Spiritualists, who were seeking to contact beloved family members who had died or met the more horrifying fate of vanishing into the theater of war. The board’s darker reputation began with the 1973 movie The Exorcist, which showed demonic consequences for playing.

Check out my blog post for more on the mysterious talking board, plus writing prompts, such as:

Call in the spirits. The Ouija board was built for necromancy: divination (seeking supernatural knowledge) from the dead. Of course, the practice of begging data from the dearly departed began long before the board came about. But the Ouija makes it easy. So let’s dial up the deceased.

(Pro-tip: You can DIY a Ouija board by drawing numbers and letters on a flat surface and using an upside down glass as a planchette.)

Possibilities for benign contact include loving family members who pass on reassurances about the afterlife, ghosts with info on random stuff like lottery numbers, ghosts of murder victims who wish to name their killers, or creative types who want to help you write novels (looking at you, Patience Worth).

But of course, you can also phone up the fiendish: convicted killers, undiscovered killers, relatives you thought were kind who were actually killers, ghosts who like mean pranks, ghosts who just plain hate the living, and the biggest danger: dead dudes who would like to live a second life. Possession by spirits is a favorite Ouija trope, and you often get there by breaking a rule while playing the “game,” which can be anything you like: don’t play alone, don’t try to contact the very recently dead, don’t play without a piece of iron in your pocket, etc.  

DannyeChase.com ~ AO3 ~ Linktree ~ Weird Wednesday writing prompts blog ~ Resources for Writers 

Image credit

[anchoragehq]

BAD LUCK NEVER LOST A RACE .

INFORMATION FOR TAG LURKERS / PROSPECTIVE MEMBERS :

our goal is to involve new people in the group as much as possible. there are many open & wanted spaces, especially for roles. at the moment, we are searching for :

MEMBERS OF THE ORDER OF THE SCARLET NIGHTMARE, specifically the recruiter & job positions filled for the single carrot theater

for every new member that joins, you will have the opportunity to be included in the follow-up to this plot drop. this means every new member will have a role in the plot drop.

HOW SELECTION WORKS :

generally, we have written the plot drop & its injuries / transpirations with what we’ve come to know about the muse(s) who were randomly selected in mind & their previous threads. however, if we ever dictate an action that you deem ill-fitting of your muse, you can ignore it entirely or ask for an amendment you deem most fitting. we want this to be fun & what we write is only meant to be the starting point.

our selection was entirely random for part of the plot drop, but some muses were determined through hand-picked selections. we always use a random team generator to determine who will receive injuries or starter lottery. we have over seventy muses & bars in place to keep some from being picked too many times consecutively. 

major injuries & death, if any, are hand-selected on the basis of the butterfly effect this time, per our notes about the plot progressions, individual & group-centric, of muses. we keep track of these as much as we can & take note of anything significant that could be utilized.

our major plot points this time were hand-selected based on prior plot progressions or discussions. writers selected for major plot points will sit out for the plot drop call for our halloween special.

for fairness, any one muse who has been selected at random three times for a plot drop in a row will sit out the next random selection. there are no triple crown muses at this time.

THE GUIDELINES FOR MEMBERS & THREADS :

the first open starter will be our icebreaker. after that, please abide the starter rule ! please only post open starters that pertain to the plot drop at this time & follow the in-game dates provided below !

you may still post exclusives outside of the realm of the plot drop and/or continue older threads.

we ask you refrain from controlling the NPCs themselves other than what is established. 

there’s many possibilities for starters, as those not grouped together or selected can be reacting to these events around town. if you need suggestions, feel free to DM us or ask.

OOC THIS EVENT WILL LAST : until wednesday, october 2nd. after this date, please refrain from more starters pertaining to the plot drop — but of course the plot drop itself will hold affect on all muses exploring the aftermath & moving forward.

a follow-up will be posted regarding all plot drop transpirations a few days after the plot drop ends.

THE IN-GAME DATE IS : september 26th to october 1st. if corresponding to a specific event, we've provided the explicit date it occurred. if unspecified, please select your own.

BEWARE THE FOLLOWING ... body horror tw.

AUTUMN IS IN THE AIR IN ANCHORAGE — as is the consistent fog rolling in from the harbor to cloak the docks and the streets in hours undisturbed by heavy foot traffic. the solemnity has disturbed archaic spirits, if you believe in the supernatural. you know what they say about WALKING UNDER LADDERS. whether or not superstition is to be believed, it came true & caught up to one unlucky customer in criminal records one september midday. as fingers explored the spines of vinyl during a flash sale, a ladder descends from the storage loft above & begins a relentless assault on emmeline hall. witness to the horror was haerin mae-nava'i, min kim & kyo ha-sun, but they were unable to reel it in on their own. a surgeon, bastien moreau, on the scene was able to identify the fallen counselor as suffering a mild spinal compression fracture ... oh, & you remember what your mother said about STEPPING ON CRACKS IN THE SIDEWALK, right ?? THE FUNK OF FORTY-THOUSAND YEARS HAS BEEN SLOWLY SEEPING FROM THE SEWERS outside of single carrot theatre. the city council has been turning a blind eye to the town's burgeoning sewer system problem. each year, the steady rains of autumn begin to fill up the grates. during an intermission of the opening night for casanova on september 27th, a lone actress ventures for a quick breath of fresh air. careless, angelique jackson perches over the noxious sewer grate. without warning, a blood-curdling scream cuts through the air. she realizes that the vibrato is beneath the soles of her feet & as she bends down to inspect it, a FACE emerges from the water near to its surface & wraps ghastly fingers around the grate. before the eyes of the theatre's star attraction, the face morphs from adisorn tayen's to that of monique jackson, the virago letting out a wail, "HELP ME !!!" in a fit of panic, angelique shoves the head of her twin underneath the water until the spasming & contorting of limbs stops. bubbles froth to the surface, & when she dares to look again, whatever it was has disappeared. i guess she crossed A BLACK CAT IN THE ROAD RECENTLY. A MYSTERIOUS FELINE FORGED OF CHARCOAL & INK SPILLS perches in mei ruan's lap as they reside over the closing discussion of september's book club, two days later. rain pounds against the windows, begging for a front row seat as they all ( blue nataphon maes, bryn ravencroft, freya chen & sky chun ) turn their pages to the author's note in the thriller novel. the words have been scribbled over in a crude red. it smells like corn syrup & it's still wet ... each book has the same word : DUCK, DUCK, DUCK, DUCK, DUCK ... a folded-up slip of paper from the front cover of thriller novella order of death slips its way to taeyoung yoon's side of the table at joker's casino, taped to the face of a joker card. AJAX, HOW ABOUT A LITTLE GRUNT WORK TO GET YOU BACK IN THE GROOVE ? RELEASE ALL THE ANIMALS FROM THE HAPPIEST PLACE ON EARTH … - SCARLET. on the first evening of october, happy villagers vet clinic is silent except for the distant symphony of restless patients. eliana moschetti is working alone at three in the morning to finish a slew of important paperwork when she hears unidentified objects clattering to the floor ... initially, she thinks it is one of the mannequin models tipping over. as she opens the door to the backroom, the cacophony reaches a fugue as the cats & dogs & miscellaneous small animals erupt from their cubbies, rampaging through the building. knocked over, she sustains minor scratches & fights to get back on her feet. amidst collecting supplies in futile effort to contain the runaway animals, a scalpel pierces through the palm of her hand. vet technicians were befuddled when the offending scalpel in question had disappeared the next morning ...

[roo-bastmoon]

BTS TUTORIAL: Tickets to Concerts

UPDATES NOW IN ORANGE BELOW!

So you wanna see BTS in person? Who doesn’t! That would be so dope.

Let’s chat about it.

Whew, okay, as a toddler ARMY, I worry I’m biting off more than I can chew with this one, because I’ve never been to a BTS concert. But since friends have been giving me good advice about trying for tickets to Yoongi’s tour, I will take a crack at it, share what I have heard, just in case it’s helpful.

So far, the only BTS-related concert we know of for 2023 is Suga’s Solo Tour.

In order to buy tickets, you have to jump through several hoops:

First, you better have an active ARMY membership. Deadline for that (for this concert) is past but you should still get one anyway.

Next, you will have had to apply for ARMY PRESALE. You gotta do this on both Weverse—which will give you a confirmation code/QR—and then you gotta do it again on Ticketmaster.

DO NOT FORGET TO PUT YOUR ARMY MEMBERSHIP ID NUMBER INTO TICKETMASTER.

This will allow you to ENTER INTO A LOTTERY to try for tickets.

IF you win this lottery, you will get an email on the evening of Tuesday, February 28th giving you a special login code for tickets during ARMY presale.

ARMY presale goes live on March 1st at 3pm your local venue’s time.

Research your venue ahead of time so you know the seating arrangement and tiers, in case you have preferences about where you sit.

I have no idea which seats are “good” seats for a stadium (some have a single stage set up at one end, some have ramps or multi mini-stages in the middle). I hear that standing by the front or barricade is really loud and intense so know your limits.

UPDATE:

Go ahead and log in to your Ticketmaster account now and put in TWO debit or credit cards (or gift cards). One as your primary; one as your backup in case something goes wonky. Save that info in your PAYMENT OPTIONS so you won't waste time plugging in numbers the day you want to buy.

On the day of the ticket sale, get onto the site at least ten minutes before the tickets are released, then refresh the page no more than 10 seconds before the release time to improve your chances of getting to the front of the queue. For example, if tickets go on sale at 3pm on a Wednesday, hop on the Ticketmaster site at 2:50pm, then refresh the page 10 seconds before 1pm.

You will then be entered into a queue along with a max of another 2,000 people. There could be 200,000 other people ahead of you, but YOUR cohort of 2,000 will be automatically queued and you can do nothing but wait for your turn.

DO. NOT. REFRESH. ONCE. IN. QUEUE. You will lose your place.

Stay in queue, deep breaths, and wait for your turn, then let the Hunger Games begin.

You want to take a few seconds to pick your seats, then check out IMMEDIATELY.

Note: if you are not handicapped, please leave seats marked WC (wheelchair) and the ones next to them (for companions) to those who truly need them.

You can only purchase up to 4 seats per lottery code, unless as a group you get an agent and try to purchase a box ahead of Presale, but those cost thousands of dollars and there is a waiting list and I have no idea how you actually get that done.

If by some miracle there are tickets left over from ARMY’s special presale, the following day opens to general presale. Then tickets go on sale to the public the day after that. (But we all know they are gonna sell out completely in minutes, and then after that there will be online trading and mark ups and whatnot.)

For step-by-step info, checkout Ticketmaster’s post here:

If you got tickets, the next thing you’ll want to do is book travel and accommodations immediately because mark-ups will skyrocket. Look for safe and well-rated hotels, motels, Airbnb, etc., in walking distance if possible.

Things to consider:

Can you take a bus or train to the area to save on airfare? How are you going to eat? Food at the venue will cost a lot but taste cheap. How are you getting to the venue if everyone is competing for cabs? Do you have a safe and non-obvious place to hide your cash on your person?

These are logistics you’ll want to play out thoroughly before your concert (Roo says, having never been to a popular music concert because she’s a giant musical theater nerd who only goes to the symphony—but this is what my older ARMY friends tell me.)

If you’re part of a community with fellow ARMY traveling to your concert site, it’s always a good idea to meet up and travel together (strength in numbers). Also check the rules of your venue to see if you need to use a clear plastic bag or if cell phones are not allowed, that sort of thing.

A lot of times ARMY are kind enough to bring freebies and giveaways, like stickers or crafts and such. Sorry to “Mom” you guys, but, please think twice before eating or drinking anything that a stranger hands you. If it comes it original brand packaging, cool. Otherwise, maybe don’t risk it. Not that ARMY has a history of poisoning or drugging people but, ya know, stranger danger.

Finally, it’s cool to bring posters and banners and things to hold up during certain moments in the concert when cameras pan to that—but please don’t block others’ views behind you. ARMY are supposed to be considerate and polite. Tickets and travel are expensive; don't ruin others' experiences.

Folks also say that you’ll likely experience a post-concert “high” and then a “drop.” So maybe have some self-care on hand. Make sure you have ways to hydrate. Bring some Kleenex and throat lozenges. Have a soothing playlist at the ready for when you try to sleep that night. Enjoy every ounce of it and then build in some time to decompress. Plan something fun to look forward to soon after.

This is now the extent of my knowledge when it comes to preparing for concerts.

I’m gonna try for tickets for Newark on the 29th but it’s my first time ever doing anything of the sort, so I’m prepared for the likelihood I won’t get one of the 16,000 seats available that one night. If that’s the case, I will try not to be too disappointed—I figure it’ll help me save on travel and accommodations in case Jimin ever decides to tour on this side of the world.

In any case, should you ever find yourself trying to go to a BTS concert, please share tips and tricks and have a good time.

May the odds be ever in your favor.

DISCLAIMER:

I am a Dope Old Person and have been ARMY since January 2022. So I still have a lot to learn.

I’m making mini-tutorials for people like me who are comfy with technology but totally new to voting, streaming, and buying Kpop stuff.

If you know of better, more up-to-date information, please comment or DM me so I can make sure I’m not spreading misinfo. Please be polite; we are on the same team!

Feel free to apply whatever you learn here to other BTS members and other artists; I’m Jimin-biased so I am focused on helping Jimin at this moment in time, but I’m OT7 so rest assured I’ll put my shoulder to the wheel for all our members!

[quinloki]

Pls enjoy these images of how you’re making me feel rn <3

Sending all my love as I go pace thru my house like a rabid dog thinking about many things <33

XD today was a very long day for me. I spent way more time at a doc appointment than expected - I still have things to do because of it (Tuesday/Wednesday), and like even after a nap I just could not focus.

Felt like I was out here handing out my C game or something, even with the disturbing canon thoughts.

So honestly I’m glad I got to riff some Thatch and Marco thoughts with good returns before bed ^_^

Tomorrow I got D&D, but hopefully I’ll be able to get some proper writing in too. I wanna get another chapter of Honeysuckle posted before work Monday.

Too much to do, too few hours to do it xD I need to just win the lottery so I can sponsor a few artists and write all day myself 😆 (ain’t that the dream!)

[kelpan]

This fic is now over 20,000 words long, and we're not even to the end of Act 1 yet. Hoo boy do I love torturing myself with massive projects that take full control of my life lol

Anyhoo! Please enjoy! Next chapter is shaping out to be a bit of a long one, so I'm shooting to try and get it out before the end of the month.

Credit for the OC Chrysanthemum Headshot goes to wwispie on Etsy/Instagram!

Ao3: Petals on a Stream of Stars

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Act 1, Chapter 9: Marigold

Wednesday

1:30 pm

Chrysanthemum

“Yes ma’am…. N-No, I’m sorry, I…. It’ll never happen again, I promise…. Yes…. Thank you….. Yes, of course…. Goodbye.” 

Chrys hung up the phone at the security desk, her heart hammering a mile a minute. She hadn’t been fired. How had she not been fired? Her second day, and she’s over four hours late. By all intents and purposes that should make her a no-call-no-show. Not exactly employee of the month kind of behavior. Officer Vanessa had been livid—who wouldn’t be?—but more than forgiving all things considered.

I should buy a lottery ticket with this kinda luck. 

Sun cocked his head out from behind one of the support beams of the playplace, his worried eyes asking her what the verdict was. She replied with a wide grin and a thumbs up, to which he pantomimed clutching at his heart and breathing a sigh of relief, the jester. He scrunched his face then, and jabbed a pointer finger at the packed lunch sitting next to her on the desk. She laughed, and waved his instruction away, opening up the zippered lunchbox to prove she understood the assignment. Satisfied, he grinned wide, and returned to his task, tying off a banner hung off the edge of the structure which read “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” in colorful, excited letters. 

She’d been smart to throw a little something together the night before. Given the frantic rush that turned out to be her morning, there’d have been no time to even consider trying to make food then. Neither did she have any intention of giving Sun yet another reason to worry over her; Given how he’d reacted yesterday, she could just imagine him calling for a full stop of all preparations until he was satisfied she’d eaten enough. That was the last thing either of them needed. Smiling at the absurd image, she grabbed a cheese stick out of the bag, and set to work on chewing it down. 

With nothing else to do while she ate, Chrys watched Sun’s journey across the daycare, blowing up balloons, decorating areas with confetti and shiny cut pieces of tinsel, and wondered how this afternoon might go. It hadn’t occurred to her that hosting parties in the Daycare had even been an option. From all she knew, the daycare was just that—a daycare. Sun had mentioned they were few and far between before she’d gone to take Vanessa’s call, so perhaps she wasn’t all that far off in thinking that. One thing, however, was clear; Sun was tickled pink at the prospect. She hadn’t seen his rays stop moving since. 

With the last of the streamers hung perfectly in place, Sun came bounding back over to the security desk, resting against the upper edge to lean overtop. His excitement was infectious, and she smiled, hiding the mouthful of food she’d just eaten behind her hand. 

“Oh, this is gonna be so much fun, Chrys, just you wait! It’ll be freeplay the entire afternoon! Nothing but games, games, games! Oh, you’re gonna love it!” 

With a wipe of her napkin, Chrys finished her lunch, and gathered all the trash together to be thrown out later. “Sounds like a blast. What about cake and presents? Do we do those here, too?”

“Oh, yes!” His face fell a twitch. “But… not this time. These parents bought the Ultra Deluxe Fazzerific package, which includes presents, pizza and cake with the entire Glamrock band over in the atrium. It’s one of our most top-tier offerings.”

“Oh. Sounds expensive.”

“Very!”

Coming out from behind the desk, Chrys took in the newly transformed Daycare. “So how will I be able to help? Is there an itinerary to follow?”

“Nope! Well, yes, but nothing you need to be concerned with, I’ll lead it all. Just help me keep an eye on the kids, make sure no one is hurting themselves or others, that sort of thing, and we’ll be all good! As long as everyone is safe and the birthday girl is having the best day of her life, that’s all that really matters.”

The clock rang twice, signaling the start of what would normally be the second shift. Sun jumped, and raced towards the gate, waving for Chrys to come join him. 

“Ok,” he said, stationing her to stand opposite him on the other side of the door. “We’ll open the gate together, and yell “Welcome, new friends!” at the same time. Ready?” She nodded. “Great! Here we go!”

With that, the Daycare flung open its doors, and together they rang in the start to the party. 

Peels of excitement ripped through the crowd, converging into their own miniature stampede as the children rushed past each other to disperse into the daycare, diving head-first into whatever caught their attention the most. Sun spared one encouraging glance to Chrys before running into the thick of it, matching their energy and then some. 

Chrys laughed, but took the chance to look out into the waiting area, if only to make sure there were no stragglers left before moving on. She found she was glad she did; There was still one more friend yet to be welcomed inside. 

Standing in the otherwise empty waiting area stood a young mother, dressed in affluent but feminine, neutral-toned business attire, with a little girl no older than five or six years old clinging to her side, head full of strawberry blonde curls pressed as far into the side of the woman’s leg as was physically possible.  

“Please, don’t worry too much about her. Give her some time, she should open right up.”

The woman spoke with a kind but firm tone, her words every bit as much a command as a reassurance. She put off the air of someone who was used to taking charge, despite the slight crack of fatigue which broke through. Kneeling down, she detangled herself from her daughter’s death grip on her skirt. “But, do be sure not to let her out of your sight. We’re going through a… a bit of a rough time, right now. You look away for one second and she’ll up and hide on you, I guarantee it.”

Switching between mother and child, Chrys could sense the underlying unease radiating off both of them. A mother who seemed drained, yet doing her best to hide it, and a child who looked like she wanted to be anywhere but here. Neither a good state of mind to be in before a party. 

“Don’t worry, there will be supervision present the entire time, we’ll make sure of that.” She took hold of the little girl’s hand at her mother’s behest, and felt the tiny fingers squeeze her own. Without her mother close, the girl curled in as tight as she could, chin tucked to her chest.

“See to it that you do. Bye sweetie, please try to have fun, for me. I’ll be back to pick you up in a few hours. I love you.”

The child stirred, and looked up from the floor. Her bright blue eyes were full of tears, and she squeaked out a meek “Love you” back before her mother turned and walked away, a quick, air-blown kiss her last bit of encouragement before disappearing around a corner. 

Hand in hand, Chrys walked the two of them inside, closing the gates behind her. She knelt down to be more at the child’s eye level, and spoke in a soft, soothing voice.

“Hey there, it’s ok. I know this is a lot. My name’s Miss Chrys. What’s yours?”

She sniffled, wiping her nose on the back of her hand. “… Marigold.”

“Marigold?” Chrys repeated, adding a bit of excitement to her voice. “What a lovely name! Did you know that’s the name of a flower?” The child nodded. “I think that’s super cool. Hey, wanna know a secret?” Another silent nod. “My name’s the name of a flower too! Have you ever heard of a Chrysanthemum?” This time a shake, the girl’s ringlets bouncing side to side. “It’s a fall flower, with lots of thin, yellow, white or red petals, like the color of my hair. Just like yours, too!”

Untucking a strand of her own hair, Chrys held it out, ushering Marigold to do the same. She tapped the two strands of hair together, similar to a drink toast. “Now we’re flower buddies! How does that sound?”

Chrys held her breath, waiting to see if her efforts had taken root. A quick double-take between her own hair and Chrys’s face, and the little girl repeated the gesture, tapping the strands together with intent, the tiniest of smiles peeking out underneath her drooping bangs. Chrys exhaled in triumph. If there was one thing she knew about childcare, it’s that if you could get a kid to smile once, you could do it again. 

“There ya go! That’s it. Now, let’s figure out something to do. What do you say? Anything out there look like fun?”

Chrys watched as Marigold scanned the area, her face revealing nothing. Guess they’d have to figure this one out the old-fashioned way. But before she could brainstorm possible ways to keep this child engaged, she caught the tell-tale jingle of Sunny approaching, and internally relaxed. He’d know what to do here better than she. 

“Oh my! What do we have over here? Did Miss Chrys find you, little star?”

He knelt down before them, his head extending unnaturally low in order to not tower over the two of them. The little girl looked to Chrys, her round eyes a mix of trust and uncertainty. 

“Don’t worry, Mr. Sun is a friend of mine. He’ll help make sure today is lots of fun!” 

“Absolutely!” He spun his rays fast enough to create a funny whizzing sound, earning a small giggle from the child. “We can’t have the birthday girl spend her special day stuck under a raincloud, now can we?”

Wait, birthday girl? The statement clicked in her head, and had there not been a child present, she would have smacked her own forehead in exasperation. How had she managed to miss that? She struggled to keep her face neutral. It wouldn’t do to let the very kid they were trying to cheer up in on her little fumble. 

“Tell me,” Sun continued, taking the helm on guiding the conversation, much to Chrys’s relief. “Do you… like crawling through the tubes? Or we could make some sparkly crafts? Ooo! What about getting a game going with all your friends? I’m sure they’d be so excited to see you!”

“They’re not my friends.” Marigold said, her tiny voice cold. “They’re from my class at school. Mama told them to come. I don’t have any friends, except big brother. Is he here yet? I wanna see him.”

Chrys froze. She shot Sun a quick cursory glance, silently asking if he knew anything about this. With as little movement as possible, he shook his head no.

“Uh, sorry sunshine! No one here has arrived registered as your brother. But, uh, who knows! He might come later. W-Why don’t we all play a game in the meantime? We could play “Princesses and Gremlins”! Although… ah, nevermind. That wouldn’t work.”

He exaggerated the last of his words, going from excited to overly sad with ease, keeping a keen eye trained on Marigold through his dramatized antics, taking in her feedback and adjusting as needed. 

“… Why not?” Marigold asked, hesitant but intrigued. 

“Because we don’t have a princess, silly! Everyone knows those can only be played by birthday girls.”

“B-But…” she tugged at the hem of her cool blue, tailored dress. “I-I’m a birthday girl! I could be the princess!”

Sun gasped, hands to his cheeks. Chrys had to stifle a giggle of her own. “Well tie me to a kite and send me to the sky, you ARE indeed! So, how about it? Will you be our Princess today?”

Marigold puffed out her cheeks, the determination bringing a fire to her eyes that Chrys wouldn’t have thought possible five minutes ago. The little girl nodded with a purpose, hands balled into tight little fists.

“Great!” Sun morphed back into his standard, smiley state. “The game is simple; We’ll split everyone into two teams. One team sides with the princess, the brave knights.” He struck a dashing pose. “Everyone else are the gremlins, who will try to breach the knight’s defenses and kidnap the princess!” He made an attempt at a grotesque face, releasing it only once he’d earned a happy giggle from Marigold. “Whoever gets the most ribbons from the other team, or manages to get both of the princess’s ribbons, wins!”

If Marigold’s eyes could grow any bigger, Chrys would think they were saucers. There was no doubt Sun had nailed this one.  

Oh, he’s good.

“And who will you be, Mr. Sun? You a knight, or a gremlin?” Chrys asked, teasing. 

“Neither! I’ll be the mighty dragon, sworn to defend the princess till the end of days! All who threaten her will be tickled!!!” Ever the one for theatrics, he released a mighty “roar”, arms held above his head and cocked to turn his hands into pretend claws. Marigold squealed, ecstatic.

“Come, my princess! Your kingdom awaits!” Taking her laughter as permission, Sun picked the now beaming child up, rays shrinking inward and head dipping low to allow her to safely sit on his shoulders. She shrieked anew as he stood, thrilled at the newfound height. Chrys watched with a warm smile on her face, feeling a sense of pride to see him so masterfully bring out the best in such a nervous little girl, a feat not many could claim. 

Hands holding Marigold safely in place, Sun rushed to the center of the daycare, calling all the children together as he went. Chrys made her way instead to the large toy box anchored against the wall, to grab all the accessories they could need for said game to commence. Sun had been right; Already she was enjoying herself. She’d missed this feeling, of helping others to find the joy she struggled to keep hold of, especially in ones as innocent as kids. Arms full of velcro ribbons and adjustable woven belts, she followed Sun’s lead, determined to do everything she could to make sure that this was the best dang birthday party these kids had ever seen. 

[cking398]

(cont....) Chapter 4

Finally, after a few months at KGI I was making 50,000 USD a month. And getting rich slowly but surely. The path to untold wealth seemed clear to me. It was obvious, China was growing, volumes would grow. I had all the contacts. I was making 50k USD a month and this was during SARS, when volumes on the exchange plummeted. Unless the world came to an end, I knew I was sitting on a winning lottery ticket. Volumes would recover and I would really start printing money. It had taken me 6 years. I won't tell you I worked particularly hard, but I like to think I worked smart. The listed derivatives market was only open from 9:45 to 12:30 and from 14:30 to 16:15. That gave me 2 hours for lunch. I only had to arrive at work at around 9:15 when I worked at KGI because I no longer covered Japan or Taiwan. After I hired an assistant I could leave when the market closed. Daisy, my assistant, could do the back office work. 

I also had stayed loyal to Hong Kong when everyone else left after the Asian Financial Crisis. I had stuck it out in Hong Kong during Sars. I had nurtured all the right relationships. Sure, I had been lucky, I had been lucky enough to join the best equity derivatives broking team in Hong Kong in 1996: FIMAT. However, it's not like the team of Fimat gave away their secrets. I sat there everyday from 8am to 6pm everyday observing and learning. Maybe 18 months into the work, a light switch had been triggered in my brain, I got the game. From that moment on I knew enough parts of the game to know I could be really good at it. It was like a Eureka moment and since that day the prestige I had amongst my peers grew. I focused on gaining the respect of the clients, not the money and I succeeded. By 2002, I was really starting to get there.

I had no enemies at work. I cannot for the life of me remember one instance apart from the grandmother story when a client was rude to me over the phone. I was literally King. Things changed with the arrival of three different characters into my life. Nick, Vahe, and Sophie (names changed). Nick was one of the best friends of my brother James. I had never really been friends with this guy in the British School of Brussels, I did not think much of him when in school. The only memory I had of him from this time was when he was the auditorium attendant at school during a video showing at lunch. The auditorium was empty, the film was boring. My mates and I had wandered in, taken seats and put our feet up on the seats in front. This jackass came over and told us to take our feet off the seats in front. That was the only memory I had of this guy. 

Nick had been a trader at a bank in Singapore on the interest rate desk. His bank had merged with another German bank and he was fired. Surplus to requirements. Luckily his wife had found a good job at the American School in Hong Kong as an administrator. The job came with a big apartment. He arrived in the year 2000 after I had changed companies and was working for myself at KGI. Not knowing anyone else in Hong Kong, he called me. We would get pissed together on many a Sunday. Generally, we would drink in Stanley, a small village near the city of Hong Kong. People from the British School of Brussels generally have the same sense of humor. So it was fun to get to know him. He would invite me round to his place, his wife was a good cook and I appreciated a proper home-cooked meal every now and again. When he got drunk, he would moan about his family life. His wife had a son from a previous relationship. Nick and his stepson had a difficult relationship. Never complain, never explain, guess he had never been taught that one. On the whole, however, we got along well. After he found out how much I was making he continuously asked me for a job.

Horse Racing night was every Wednesday on Hong Kong island. The racetrack is in Happy Valley surrounded by skyscrapers. On a particularly nice evening sometime in the year 2000, I was out with some clients of mine, more friends than clients really, and I invited him to join us. He got drunk as was his custom but he did not make a good impression. Generally, people wait before they take the piss out of people they do not know. Nick didn’t. There was a good friend of mine called Tony. Around the same age as me at the time, 27, I had been on holiday with him in Sydney over a weekend. We were close. He was in charge of market making for an Options market maker called Optiver. I would call him to get prices and he traded decent size. Anyway, I told Nick, in front of Tony, that the market’s nickname for him was ‘one lot’ because he traded such small sizes. I was just joshing Tony. It was not true, if anything he was the biggest market maker by volume at the time in the market. It was meant in jest but Nick found this hilarious and called him one lot for the rest of the night, needless to say, this did not endear him to Tony. The other guy I introduced him to was called Jean-Guy and he was similarly unimpressed after Nick made stupid jokes at his expense. First impressions count, and he had fluffed it. When I asked these guys the following day what they thought about Nick. They both tried to dissuade me from hiring him.

A few months passed. The begging for a job was relentless. It was literally every time I saw him. Seeing as he was basically offering to work for free. I thought, what harm could come of it? I hired him, I dictated the terms. The deal I proposed was, that he would get 25k HKD (around 3k USD) for six months, the time I thought it would take him to learn the job, after which I would give him 20 percent of the profit, at the time this would give him a monthly income of 80k HKD (around 10k USD). He accepted without a second thought. If profits grew, as I expected, it would be much more. Bear in mind that my starting salary as a broker had been 18k HKD and when I left Fimat, it was only 49,500 HKD. So I figured 25k HKD was an okay amount to bear for 6 months, especially as he had the apartment and his living expenses covered by his wife. He had applied for positions everywhere in Hong Kong. He got very few responses. No offers. So really I was his lifeline. Without me, he was staring retirement in the face at 29. 80k HKD (10k USD) per month, with only 16 percent income tax in Hong Kong, he was going to be on a decent expat wage.

Vahe worked for Credit Lyonnais, a French bank, smart as a tack, but he had a horrible attitude and viewed brokers, as far as Chris could tell, as little better than pond scum. When I met this client socially, he was always cordial. His main topic of conversation seemed to be complaining about his boss. He would put his bad attitude down to the stress he received from his boss. For me, brokerage was simply a way to make a buck, it did not define him as a person. He thought otherwise. I treated it as a game. He thought about it as life and death. If I could retire early, make enough money, and get out, then that was just a byproduct of doing a good job. Being a good capitalist. University had filled me with the teachings of the boys from the Chicago School of Economics and I believed this, later, I would reassess my beliefs on the ‘free markets’. 

Sophie was a bar manager in Lan Kwai Fong, a popular nightlife area in Hong Kong before I married her. If ever a devout atheist existed, it was her. So were my parents, it made little difference to me. I had not pondered the religious questions yet. So long as the person's heart was in the right place, I really couldn't care less about people's religious backgrounds. The problem with this woman was that she was complaining bitterly to me every night when I got home. I never did anything right as far as Sophie was concerned. I used shampoo to wash my body instead of body gel, I left the cupboard doors open after I got dressed in the morning and put my clothes on the floor. Just constantly complaining as only the French can do. Why she could not just hire a maid and stop fucking lecturing me the whole time was beyond me. During our romance, we had spent a lot of time drunk. She was very different with a few inside her, a good laugh. But stuck in a big apartment with nothing to do she became a different person. Maybe it was the pregnancy that made her anal. Not sure. I decided that the best course of action was to extricate myself from one of these increasingly unhealthy situations. I resolved to get out of the work situation since I still believed in the love I had for Sophie. Or convinced myself I did. (Aside, from killing my child via abortion, Sophie and I had gotten married and separated within a 6 month period, she had then found a new man and proceeded to go on holiday with him. In 2004 the biggest Tsunami in recorded history hit SE Asia, and the closest woman to the epicenter was my ex. She was in all the newspapers. To this day, if you do a search ‘Sophie Pasquier Tsunami’ there are pics of her and her new beau smiling, describing their ‘adventure’. She was still married to me, so was technically committing adultery, even though we had separated and she had killed the MESSENGER’s baby. Did God target her in this strike/ Earthquake or just another crazy coincidence that the Tsunami struck on Boxing Day?

Rewind to when Nick first joined at the end of the year 2000. After three months, Nick had learned the basics. We got along well and I figured he could handle the business if I took a little holiday. It was summer, volumes would be low. I figured he could handle it. My best friend from school was getting married and had invited me on his honeymoon. Weird, I know, but another couple were going with them, so I accepted. After my holiday was over, I came back to Hong Kong. Vahe had never really annoyed me before but now it was literally every day some new bullshit to piss me off. He insisted on knowing the names behind every trade. I refused to tell him who was buying and selling, this was not the OTC market, on the listed market my policy was not to reveal who was buying and selling. This argument went on forever. He also would act up if he did not feel he got the ‘right’ amount of the volume on a trade. I treated everyone the same. That's why the market respected me. He wanted special treatment and I refused to give it to him. There was something personal behind it but I could not figure it out. He had targeted me. I thought it was just jealousy. I made more than him. He paid me more in brokerage than he took home himself in pay. I thought it was stuff like that, to begin with. After a few weeks of these constant attacks, I started having my doubts. He disliked me intensely. And then I figured it out. It was because of Nick. I knew once Nick had a few beers inside him, he would complain, complain, complain. And Vahe was the same animal, French are the best complainers in the world and Vahe was a star amongst them in that respect. So I figured out what happened. Nick had had a few busy days. He could not handle it. I had received complaints about his broking skills when I got back and had stuck up for him vigorously. He had obviously gone drinking with Vahe after a torrid day of clients complaining to him. Vahe did what he always did. Complaining about his boss and various other circumstances that depressed him. Nick who felt bad because he was not able to provide the same level of service as me turned around and complained about his pay and me. From the moment I figured that out till the moment he decided he did not want to be a broker anymore. 2 years passed. We had a few good laughs together after I came back from the ‘honeymoon’ but it was never the same. I knew and he knew I knew what he had done. I would pester him about it constantly. What did you say to Vahe? Just be honest, I would implore him. He never admitted to me that he had stabbed me in the back. Years later Vahe would confirm what Nick had complained about to him, his lack of pay, how hard he worked. Worked hard. What a joke. The market was only open for 5 hours a day and he had to answer and make phone calls. How is that hard work? Anyone who answers phones for a living for 5 hours a day cannot complain they work hard. That's ridiculous. When my team became bigger, his deficiencies became more obvious. I had to shout at him sometimes and it was always the same thing. A market is a market, if you can’t tighten the bid-offer spread and you have checked with everyone, you don’t have to apologize to the guy. He would say sorry constantly like it was his fault. It made me cringe. The market is the market. It's not anybody's fault. Stop saying fucking sorry you muppett. As soon as he apologized, obviously, the trader on the other side would think he was not doing his best. He was lazy or whatever. People respect the truth, however brutal it may be. If there are no sellers for what the guy wants to buy. You tell him. You don’t say sorry, blah blah. Bullshit. On top of it all, that information is important for the guy who wants to know the reality of the market as it is. You don’t want some sad idiot who thinks he is so important that his apologies will affect the truth of the situation. You want the truth and I prided myself on giving it. 

What happened to Nick? Well, he left in 2004, probably because he thought I was yelling at him for no reason. Another thing that worried me about him is that every night he would drink. He was smart but he drank constantly. Deeply unhappy man. In 2005 a brokerage from Europe started up in Hong Kong. He was offered some money, he went to work for them. Still a shit broker. Now he works for my ex-apprentice. In 2006, I hired a guy out of Paris called Ghaleb Ferjane. A good guy. Honest as the day is long. Now Nick works for him and talks to market makers all day long. He has no real clients. What a twat.

Vahe was smarter, although stupid in a different way from Simon. Took life too seriously. Thought life was not meant to be enjoyed, just suffered. Anyway, he was the biggest trader in the market for a long time so I put up with his bullshit. Actually, I hired a French guy called Tong who was a good friend of mine at the time. This guy's only job was to handle Vahe. Best broking education I could have given him as it turned out. From 2003-2007 Vahe was one of the best traders, if not the best, in Hong Kong. He kept getting stiffed on his bonuses though. First, he was at Credit Lyonnais, a French bank, then Merrill Lynch an American bank, then another one. By 2007, he decided to go out on his own. His reputation was such that he had no problem raising money from other people in the market. 4 million USD apparently. Super bad timing. The strategies he had used for the last 5 years in the market did not work in the financial crisis that was to come. He lost big. He closed the fund and became a broker. He was good at that. As I mentioned before, he ended up working for the brokerage I created with my team.

[beardedmrbean]

The year is 1996: Britpop rules the airwaves, the National Lottery is must-see TV, and everyone knows the Macarena. Oh, and if you happen to be a kid, SegaWorld is the place to be.

Ensconced on the top floor of the London Trocadero, the indoor amusement arcade felt like a cola-soaked disco in the sky. Only here, the sounds of synths were replaced by space lasers, Formula 1 engines, and gunshots.

At the foot of this unfettered pleasuredome stood the statue of its beloved mascot: Sonic the Hedgehog. Instead of a disco ball, the blue speedster spun a globe on the tip of his finger. It was fitting because, if you were a kid in the Nineties, SegaWorld made you feel like you were on top of the world.

Now, more than 20 years after the indoor theme park’s closure, Sega is bringing back the original statue. The Japanese gaming giant has expertly restored the royal blue figure, which was at risk of being lost for good.

Sonic will make his glorious return at Sega’s booth at the Gamescom 2023 gaming convention. The three-day event kicks off this Wednesday, August 23, in Cologne, Germany.

In a timelapse video shared by Sega on Twitter, the recovered statue makes for a sorry sight. Caked in dirt, and missing part of his globe-spinning arm, Sonic looks like a neglected relic from a long-forgotten past. The clip then plays like a nerdier take on The Repair Shop, with a team of what we can only assume are restoration experts cleaning, buffing, and painting the statue and restoring it to its former glory.

With his glow-up complete, maybe Sega will take Sonic on the road. Here’s hoping he finds his way back to London at some point. The Trocadero may be an empty shell of its former self, but there are plenty of other venues that would make a good home for the fleet-footed hedgehog. The Science Museum’s permanent Power Up video game exhibition would be an ideal candidate.

[otakusparkle]

Identity V Coloring Event

Identity V is now collaborating with Clip Studio Paint and IbisPaint, now they held a coloring contest for everyone to join!

How to join?

- click websites, and download a coloring pages you want! (You can choose the character)

- After you done, upload it in Twitter and use hashtags #第二十四回塗りマス

Even when you still in progress, you can still tweet it using the text and show the world how far you got!

W CHANCE! There's a chance for everyone to win by lottery if you also uploaded a video of your coloring progress!

Prizes

>Works by PC< (1 Winner)

- LCD pen tablet Wacom One

- Input device Orbital2 STERNA

- CLIP STUDIO PAINT PRO 2 Device Plan 3-year edition, a painting tool that can be used on computers, tablets, and smartphones

- IbisPaint Original Stylus Pen

>Works by Mobile< (2 Winner)

- Raytrek R5-AA6

- For manga and illustration production | Entry model starter pack for CLIP STUDIO PAINT SENSE-15FH043-C-UCZS-CSP StarterPack [CLIP STUDIO PAINT]

- Pen tablet Wacom Intuos

- Input device Orbital2 STERNA

- CLIP STUDIO PAINT PRO 2 Device Plan 3-year edition, a painting tool that can be used on computers, tablets, and smartphones

- IbisPaint Original Stylus Pen

>Color Award< (1 Winner by Lottery)

- ColorEdge CS2410 monitor for creators & EX4 calibration sensor

- Paint tool CLIP STUDIO PAINT PRO 2 device plan 3 years version that can be used on a computer, tablet, or smartphone or CLIP STUDIO TABMATE on the left hand device

- IbisPaint Original Stylus Pen

>First participation award< (2 Winner by Lottery)

- MSI Gaming Accessory Set (BOX, Headphones, Mouse Pad, Key Holder) + Backpack

- Paint tool CLIP STUDIO PAINT PRO 2 device plan 3 years version that can be used on a computer, tablet, or smartphone or CLIP STUDIO TABMATE on the left hand device

- IbisPaint Original Stylus Pen

>Identity V Awards< (4 Winner)

- "Identity V dress-up plush toy "gardener", "fortune teller (Recluse)", "fortune teller (Longing Tiger)", "photographer" (one of 4 types will be presented randomly.)”

- Paint tool CLIP STUDIO PAINT PRO 2 device plan 3 years version that can be used on a computer, tablet, or smartphone or CLIP STUDIO TABMATE on the left hand device

- IbisPaint Original Stylus Pen

>Outstanding Performance Award< (5 Winner)

- Paint tool CLIP STUDIO PAINT EX 2 device plan 3 year version that can be used on a computer, tablet, or smartphone

- IbisPaint Original Stylus Pen

>Honorable Mention Award< (30 Winner)

- IbisPaint Original Stylus Pen

(For those who wish, we will present CLIP STUDIO PAINT PRO 1 Device Plan 1 year edition, a painting tool that can be used on PCs, tablets and smartphones)

For All Winners above, you will be given "Special collaboration clear file" and printed the prize-winning work "acrylic panel"!

For those who didn't win, will be selected by lottery and will win "Special collaboration clear file" for lucky 50 peoples.

Application period: From Friday, March 24, 2023 to Wednesday, April 12, 23:59

Result announcement: Scheduled for Friday, April 28, 2023

Download the coloring page and read more information here :

[andieniebs]

Types of Lottery in Malaysia

4D Lotto

In 4D Lotto, a player picks a number from 0000 to 9999.

23 numbers will then, at that point, be drawn. The player wins assuming that his number matches the drawn number! You will likewise see that it's called 4D because of its 4 Digit numbers. There's additionally 5D and 6D Lotto with individual 5 Digits and 6 Digits.

It's a pleasant way of betting that has charmed endless Malaysians. Everyone is anxious to take a stab out in this lottery way of gambling.

There are presently 3 principal 4D Providers in Malaysia. They are Magnum 4D, Sports Toto, and Da Mama Cai. Not at all like lotto in different nations, these 3 providers are independent and exclusive.

There are those that do 'forecast abuse' called 4D Operators. They predict or forecast what the winning 4 digits will be.

Magnum 4D offers classic games where players can pick the 4 digit-numbers and the total sum he wants to bet. There are 2 sorts of predictions, either larger and more modest. Higher winnings are guaranteed in a little bet, but a win will possibly be guaranteed in the event that the player's number falls in the first, second, or third spot.

Lottery 6/58

Malaysia's Preeminent Toto 6/58 initially begun on Walk 20, 2010. Here, players should pick 6 numbers from 1-58. The drawings will be held 3-4 times each week, as a rule on Wednesdays, Saturdays, and Sundays. At times they will draw on Tuesdays.

The odds of winning the Preeminent Toto jackpot is incredibly low, with just 1 out of 40475358

However, this doesn't stop Malaysians from playing. The Malaysia Star Toto is another lottery gamblers can likewise attempt, with winning odds of 1 out of 15,890,700.

Lottery 6/50

This is as of now the most recent of the 6D lotto games, just having begun on October 21, 2017. Malaysia's Star Toto 6/50 supplanted the old Malaysian Stupendous Toto. In this game, players should pick 6 in the middle of between 1-50. An extra bonus number on top of the 6 numbers drawn will be added, taken from the pool of 50. Star Toto 6/50 has the best odds of winning. Players have a 1 out of 15,890,700 chance of winning this Star Toto Jackpot's most memorable prize.

[holycatsandrabbits]

133 years ago this week (July 1, 1890) the Ouija Board had its commercial introduction as a harmless parlor game.

A Ouija board is a rectangle of wood or cardboard printed with the alphabet, the numbers 0-9 and the words yes, no, and goodbye. Players put their fingers on a triangular planchette and ask questions of the spirits, who answer by moving the planchette around the board. Of course, we know how this goes: it’s malicious entities who respond and then they kill everybody. That’s the trope. But it wasn’t always like that.

Check out my blog post for more on the mysterious talking board, plus writing prompts, such as:

Call in the spirits. The Ouija board was built for necromancy: divination (seeking supernatural knowledge) from the dead. Of course, the practice of begging data from the dearly departed began long before the board came about. But the Ouija makes it easy. So let’s dial up the deceased.

(Pro-tip: You can DIY a Ouija board by drawing numbers and letters on a flat surface and using an upside down glass as a planchette.)

Possibilities for benign contact include loving family members who pass on reassurances about the afterlife, ghosts with info on random stuff like lottery numbers, ghosts of murder victims who wish to name their killers, or creative types who want to help you write novels (looking at you, Patience Worth).

But of course, you can also phone up the fiendish: convicted killers, undiscovered killers, relatives you thought were kind who were actually killers, ghosts who like mean pranks, ghosts who just plain hate the living, and the biggest danger: dead dudes who would like to live a second life. Possession by spirits is a favorite Ouija trope, and you often get there by breaking a rule while playing the “game,” which can be anything you like: don’t play alone, don’t try to contact the very recently dead, don’t play without a piece of iron in your pocket, etc.  

Ao3 ~ DannyeChase.com ~ Linktree ~ Weird Wednesday writing prompts blog ~ Ko-fi ~ Newsletter

Image credit

[psuedoquiddity]

How might I track down Sabah Sarawak 4D Results in Malaysia?

4D is really a major ordeal in Malaysia. It is known as the most popular game played in Malaysia and Singapore. With regards to keputusan 4d lottery, you can decide to play Magnum 4d, Sports TOTO 4d, Damacai 4d or Sabah Sarawak 4D and Singapore 4d. Perhaps Sabah Sarawak 4D is less popular than others, however a large number of individuals like to purchase Sabah Sarawak 4D tickets as a result of its effortlessness and high payout. Nonetheless, in this article, I won't attempt to persuade you to put down your cash on Sabah Sarawak 4D tickets, the normal worry this is the way might you at any point track down Sabah Sarawak 4D Results in Malaysia? Peruse on underneath to track down the point by point reply in the event that you are playing Sabah Sarawak 4D for a better life.

Get familiar with a piece session Sabah Sarawak 4D results

Like Malaysia 4D lottery, Sabah Sarawak 4D expects you to choose your number of choice from 0000 to 9999 for a ticket. There are 23 numbers will be picked as the winning numbers in each 4dtoto draw. These numbers are drawn upon randomly for the first, second and third award, 10 incidental awards and 10 unique awards. You can check Sabah Sarawak 4D results on each Wednesday, Saturday, and Sunday of the week. Be that as it may, there is an exceptional draw which opened on Tuesday. When you get to be aware of Sabah Sarawak 4D results, then how about we crash into the main pressing concern: How might you track down Sabah Sarawak 4D Results in Malaysia?

Tracking down Sabah Sarawak 4D Results in Malaysia

As you might be aware, there are 3 permit Number Forecast Administrator in Malaysia which are Sports TOTO, Magnum, and Damacai. These offers the 4d lottery, yet it isn't Sabah Sarawak 4D. Thus, you can't track down the Sabah Sarawak 4D results on "big 3" official webs. In any case, there is a lot of Malaysia online lottery website which permits you to play and get the Sabah Sarawak 4D results. To get the best benefit while playing Sabah Sarawak 4D for genuine cash, you ought to find the trustworthy destinations that stand apart than others. Here in this article, we might want to acquaint with you trusted toto4d locales including 4dtreasure and 4ddraw. Visiting the two of them, not just you can get the most recent Sabah Sarawak 4D results, yet additionally look for the

Recall that playing the lottery is a long distance race. It requires the persistence to foster a decent procedure 4D lottery. In this way, assuming that you look for the Sabah Sarawak 4D results and find you are not the bonanza winner, remain hopeful. To wrap things up, require another opportunity, to an ever increasing extent and play dependably, karma will be your ally. This is likewise valid for each 4D games. Hope everything turns out great for you karma!

[patrice-bergerons]

15 questions

Me? doing a tag game for once?  It’s more likely than you think!  Thank you for tagging me @bishybarnaby @samanthahirr and @theexistencegame

1. Are you named after anyone?  Alex is a chosen name and I would be lying if I claimed Sir Alex Ferguson and Alex de Souza (beloved ex-Fenerbahce player) didn’t have something to do with it—although, the biggest contributing influence was a something rather than someone (Iskender, i.e., the turkish version of Alexander, which also doubles as the name of the best kebab known to man!)

2. When was the last time you cried?   I almost cried on Friday for a very random reason and in front of a partner but held it together in the end, so I suspect Wednesday or Thursday (time is not real).  I go thru multiple month-long periods where I don’t shed a single tear and then cry literally everyday for a week when some external factor sets something off.  Hopefully this is now the end of that latter cycle.

3. Do you have kids?  Nah, and that’s unlikely to change any time soon.  Also to echo what @macontheweb said, I have no idea how you guys with young families manage to find the time to write any fic at all - very impressive!

4. Do you use sarcasm?  Indeed I do.

5. What is the first thing you notice about people?  I’m not sure I know to be honest.

6. What is your eye color? Brown. 

7. Scary movies or happy endings?  This question has made me inordinately angry every time answers to this game have crossed my dash.  In what world are scary movies and happy endings even semi-decent complements?  A scary movie can have a happy ending after all and once can just as easily dislike happy endings while also not being into horror!  Gah!! 

8. Any special talents?  I’m scary good at Excel, does that count for anything?

9. Where were you born?  In the middle of nowhere, Anatolia, because that’s where my parents were doing their residencies at the time (and I’m an unplanned baby rip ☠)

10. What are your hobbies?   Writing!  I also enjoy cooking and going on walks, not to mention hanging out with my kitty.

11. Do you have any pets?  Yes and she is the love of my life.  I consider gaining her trust until I convinced her to move in with me one of my greatest achievements.

12. What sports do you play/have you played?  To steal Bishy’s answer- LOL

13. How tall are you?  This is kind of funny in that I can never remember how tall I am?  In general, I have a hard time remembering numbers and this information for some reason only stays in my head for a max of 24 hours every time I re-find out before poof it dissolves into the ether again (I also don’t remember my blood type which is arguably a thornier problem)

14. Favorite subject in school?  If by ‘school’ we mean high school, it was hands down English lit to the point to the point they gave me an excellence in english award when I graduated lol.  Turkish lit curriculum in Turkey has such a formulaic and uninspired approach to teaching literature, encountering a liberal arts mentality for the first time, which put engaging with the works, and learning the tools to engage better with the works, for the first time and with a stellar faculty who were all passionate about their jobs was life changing.  I was very depressed in high school and not to be too dramatic but it was often the English classes that kept me going.  In uni, I fell in love with Economics, which I majored in.

15. Dream job?  My current job, at the current pay, but only half the hours.  As much as I complain about it (and tumblr is a biased sample really in that I use it to vent about my grievances w/out any rl people’s knowledge) I really enjoy my job; I would enjoy it immensely more if I only did 20 hours of it per week but either did not have to take a 50% pay cut or won the lottery or sthing such that money was no longer an issue.

I think most people in my corner of the Bond fandom have already been tagged, so let me spread this out to other spheres- @chawarin-panich @greenapricot @hiawin @pmrashford @thankyouforbeingsowrong @arthursalbion @witchmd13 (as always consider this an invitation and not an obligation!)

[ofwaltdisneys]

4D Suppliers in Malaysia

The government of Malaysia has licensed 3 independent private organizations otherwise called Number Forecast Administrators to offer 4D. These are Magnum 4D, Sports Toto, and Da Mama Cai.

Magnum 4D - This administrator offers players the exemplary 4D game where they pick a 4D digit number and the individual sums they need to bet. This was the principal organization to be licensed to offer the 4D game.

Da Mama Cai - In Mandarin, the name of this administrator in a real sense implies Skillet Malaysian Lottery. In December 2016, this organization presented a portable betting platform known as dmcGO which works on the two iOS and Android applications.

Sports Toto - This is an individual from a Berjaya gathering of organizations and was consolidated in Malaysia in 1969. It was privatized in 1985 and is as of now a completely claimed auxiliary.

The Odds of Winning 4D

Malaysia 4D drawings are hung on Wednesdays, Saturdays, and Sundays. However, there are times when a unique draw is held. This is typically finished on Tuesdays. For an administrator to hold an exceptional draw, they should be approved and supported by the Service. Most of the times you will catch wind of the exceptional draws is during events like Chinese New Year and birthday celebrations of Kings and Rulers.

At the point when an exceptional draw is coming up, you will be informed at the ticket counter and be permitted to participate 7 days before. Extraordinary days are not for the most part at the same time directed by every one of the administrators subsequently it is important to check with the administrator of any upcoming exceptional draws.