#I’d also recommend leaving out your name but DO say what neighborhood you live in

[nubs-mbee]

People have been sharing these threads on twitter and I figured they’d be helpful for some of you on tumblr as well! (Specifically for US)

[thesearchexperience]

5 Things to Know Before Moving to San Francisco

San Francisco and Silicon Valley are naturally dream living destinations for people all over the world.

I too had that dream and in 2015 it became a reality when I relocated to launch a recruitment business. Four years later, and with a new wealth of experience, I often reflect on the initial year and recall the things I wish I’d known before I made the move – not things that would have changed my mind but rather help me prepare and settle in.

In a bid to pass on some seeds of wisdom, here are my top tips for anyone looking to relocate to the Bay Area.

1.     Credit is everything and everything needs Credit. When I moved from Sydney to Silicon Valley, I became painfully aware of the need for a credit score and just how much it can impact your ability to get a cell phone, car, apartment and credit card. Prior to moving to San Francisco, a friend recommended that I apply for an American Express card (because of its universal nature). After 3 months I was then able to transfer that to a local American Express and it helped build a credit score and history far more quickly.

2       Location Location LocationSelecting where you live is probably the biggest decision you will make when you relocate and your choice can have a major impact on how you view a city and how quickly you settle. Sadly, despite being the technology center of the world, public transport in and connecting San Francisco and the other Silicon Valley cities leaves a lot to be desired. The major roads in and out of the city are also often gridlocked during peak times and at weekends, so consider where your office will be based and what commute will be.

If you’re thinking about moving to San Francisco proper, the small city (7x7) has vastly contrasting neighborhoods and each have totally different vibes; from the hippy haven in Haight-Ashbury, to the rainbow crosswalks in the Castro to the immaculately maintained streets of ritzy Nob Hill. Do your research and spend time in each neighborhood to discover the right vibe for you.

3       Brace yourself for the cost.  I know, I know, it is cliched to say that San Francisco is expensive, but you don’t realize just how expensive until you move there. San Francisco will be found on any list discussing the most expensive cities in the US and even the world. With a median rent price approaching $3500 for a one-bedroom apartment, San Francisco takes it’s ‘pound of flesh’ from its residents. With a near zero unemployment rate and a subsequent talent war that has driven salaries higher than any other city in the US, San Francisco’s rental market is just as competitive, and landlords have capitalized. If your company is relocating you to the Bay Area, ensure you negotiate a San Francisco premium for your salary. Rent, transport, restaurants and bars are all more expensive than almost any other city in the US, including New York.   

4       Karl the Fog. “Microclimate” was a term I was unfamiliar with before arriving in San Francisco, but I quickly became acquainted with. As the hot inland air rises the cool breeze from the pacific creates the iconic fog that locals call Karl (named after a giant who's misunderstood in the Tim Burton movie “Big Fish”) which cools down the city significantly compared to the East or South Bay. With a short Bart ride (subway) over the Bay from San Francisco to Oakland (we’re talking 5 miles over the water), you’ll often leave behind a chilly 65 degrees Fahrenheit (18 degrees Celsius) and emerge from the tunnel to a lovely 85 degrees (29 degrees Celsius).  Even the temperature in SF itself can change within minutes so always be prepared with layers to add or take off. 

5       Tipping and Sales Tax.Meals and shopping will always be more expensive than the menu or price tag suggests. Sales Tax is added to the bill at the end of a meal or at the till in a shop so don’t be surprised when you’re asked to cough up more than you thought! There is also a huge tipping culture in America and for the vast majority of servers and bartenders, tips make up a substantial part of their income and in general you are expected to tip 15 – 20% of the bill. The same goes the same for hotel bell staff, beauticians, tour guides and taxi’s, etc.

Despite this, San Francisco is an incredible city to live professionally and personally. You will find more networking opportunities here than any other city in the world and people are always happy to stop and help you out. You’ll be hard pressed to find bad food and if you love the outdoors you will never grow tired of your surroundings (skiing, hiking etc), but the biggest benefit for me is the sports culture. The Warriors, Sharks, Giants, 49ers, Raiders(for now), Earthquakes, A’s….I could go on. The Bay Area is spoilt for choice where professional sports are concerned with all 4 major US sports having a presence in San Francisco. And, depending on the time of year buying tickets is relatively affordable (even by SF standards).

 

Source URL : http://bit.ly/3Xny9fb

[boymeetsparadise]

masterlist

Mentions and contains: female reader x Kim Seokjin, fluff, !angst!, arranged marriage! au, break ups and running away, lying, betrayal, anxiety, language, pregnancy and children, vomit, infidelity suggestion, TINY suggestion at mature content

Word count: 7k

an: this took a while and lots of editing. italics are the memories or the flashbacks, whatever you'd like to call em. i’m always gonna find things to fix here and there but for now, enjoy. ALSO special thanks to my friend (S) for proofreading and being a great supporter, ily <3 lemme know your thoughts! requests are open but slow!

songs listened to while writing:

~someone new- banks

~mystery of love-sufjan stevens

~ TTU x young and beautiful. listen to the beautiful work here

this came up on my recommendations and I immediately fell in love.

“What are you here?” Confusion and hurt evident as his brows furrowed.

The former lovers stood face to face, away from sight in a small nook of a garden. On a warm spring afternoon, the flowers had bloomed and birds chirped. Far up ahead was the arriving crowd, waiting to celebrate the sight of a couple coming together; for in sickness and in health, for better or for worse… for life.

“You know me,” You let out a shaky chuckle, trying to calm your nerves. “I never think things through and maybe it was a mistake but, “But I wanted to see you one last time. One last time before I leave.”

Seokjin stared back, chest feeling heavy at your words. “Going where?’

“Somewhere,” You bit the inside of your cheek, refusing to make eye contact with the man you once loved.

“Do you think we’ll be together forever?” Curiosity got the best of you as you tried to take a bite of your ice cream. The two of you sat on the cool grass under the night sky as civilians strolled down the pavement, taking in the cool summer breeze.

“I don’t see why not.” Seokjin smiled as he looked down next to him, taking in the sight of his lover staring off into the river that was just up ahead. “I love you and you love me right?” He raised a knowing brow just in time to see you smile to yourself. “I’m guessing that's all we need baby.”

“I suppose so.” You agreed with a simple shrug. “To be quite honest, I’m really looking forward to it.”

Seokjin hummed as he mimicked your nod, butterflies swarming his stomach and cheeks growing warm, he wrapped an arm around your shoulder- pulling you closer with a relaxed sigh.

“I can’t wait till we have a home to call our own, I can see it now.”

“Oh really?” His head peeked with interest, “And what do you see with this home?”

Your cheeks took on his favorite color on you: red.

“I see this cozy home, nothing too big or too small y'know?” prompting Seokjin to hum in understandment.

“You want kids right?’ You shyly asked. They have been warily brought up as the relationship grew and grew, possibilities were endless for a young couple in love.

“That I do!” Seokjin chuckled with a nod. “I want as many as you do.”

“Even if it’s 500 kids?” You teased with a giggle.

Seokjin took this as his opportunity to tease you back.“You could ask for two or 3 billion, either way I wont be able to complain about that process now would I?”

“Stop that!” You blushed as you playfully slapped his shoulder. You leaned in to hide in his embrace, all while his chest vibrated with your favorite sound- his laughter. “What if someone hears you?”

“Not like they don’t know the process.” He smirked, enjoying how easy it was to playfully fluster his love.

“Ok” You plowed through- fixing your hair, trying to ignore the heat that spread across your cheeks. “Kids, maybe a dog too.” You smiled again. “I’d wake up early to make us breakfast, you know how much I love to make breakfast.”

Seokjin nodded.

“We’d go to work and come back just in time to make dinner together. Imagine when we start a family: relaxed mornings and fun dinners. Oh and the traditions we could start!” You jumped up just a bit from your seat, clearly excited.

“Like?” He raised his eyebrows.

You let your joy speak for you. Husband and wife. You’d live in a cozy home. Nothing too big or too small. The weekends were your favorites. Saturdays meant breakfast on the couch as you let the childhood favorites play on the tv, relaxing after a tiring week. Sundays was an extension and you loved going to the grocery store with him, taking turns every time pushing each other as one sat in the cart. That was something you’d continue until it was no longer possible.

You thought that as you got older your work schedules will allow more designated time together. Coming home around the same time to prepare dinner and stroll around the neighborhood as a couple. Holidays spent in a place you could grow out into and call your own. A safe place of love.

You talked more about a family. Making him chuckle as you already knew he’d be extra careful and baby proof your home before the child was even born. The joy of decorating a nursery and waiting for the first signs of an active baby. Late nights cuddled on the couch and reaching for his hand when the little bundle decided to start kicking, joking about how your baby was already as hyperactive like their father.

You rambled on about how you could wait till it was your first christmas as a family, a tiny bundle of love that was the perfect mixture of their parents. You imagined tiny hands clapping as flour created small clouds, chubby fingers reaching to squish the cookie dough, making a mess. The way you’d be holding his hand as you see them opening their first gift, excited for their reaction, despite not understanding and finding everything oh so amusing.

First steps on the living room as the two of you cheer and clap. Trips to his uncle’s strawberry farm. A toddler perched on his lap as he taught em the art of online gaming.

Seokjin mentioned he was looking forward to the day he has to scrub off scribbled crayon from the walls and the way his back won’t be the same after endless piggy-back rides but it would all be with love.

He shook his head with a chuckle at the mention of his dad jokes holding more meaning.

Birthday parties in the backyard surrounded by the people you love most. You were grateful for the friends you both made, excited for the future. You had no doubts your child(ren) would be surrounded by the best people...by love.

The rest of your lives would be spent in harmony. You imagined sending your children away to college and the world. Warm afternoons spent in the park and summer nights on the balcony reminiscing over the most embarrassing moments of when you first started dating. Laughing when bringing up past holidays. Slow dancing in the living room and late night talks in the dark.

A beautiful rollercoaster you’d ride over and over until your last breath.

Seokjin was ready for it all. The laughs, the cries. In his mind, it was everything he ever wanted and envisioned the moment he realised you were the one. He’d follow you to the ends of the earth and defy all odds, knowing what you two had would break all chains.

“You know it doesn't have to be this way right?” Seokjin whispered.

“Like what?” You focused your attention on a random flower bush even though you very well knew what he was referring to.

“I don’t have to go through with this. You don't have to go through with this.” He began to softly plead. It’s been such a long time since he has seen you, heard your voice, looked into your eyes. He’d spend his last breath begging for you.

With a sigh you reminded him with a soft voice. “We do Seokjin.”

“[Y/N]” He took a step towards you, your body taking you a step backwards as he stretched out his hand.

“Don’t come near me please.” You spoke in a broken whisper. You knew if he stepped any closer all will would be lost and you’d fall into his arms. Today wasn’t the day. That day will never come again.

“Please look at me.” His voice cracked. “I missed looking into your eyes so much, please”

A silence followed as the two of you stood in the garden. His hand was still reaching out for you as you held yourself, too afraid to reach out.

“Are you busy tonight?” Seokjin had his phone pressed to his ear by his shoulder as his hands flipped through endless hangers.

“Depends on what.” You responded as you laid back onto your bed. You had just started packing, school had ended and you finally found a nice cozy place to rent with some of your friends.

“Come with me to a family event please?’ Seokjin asked as he began to hold shirts up to his chest in the mirror, sighing in discontent and picking up another. “I’d feel much better if you were by my side.”

He nervously bit his cheek, as he paced between bed and mirror, glancing at the time. He would rather much ask to hang out with you and go somewhere he’d actually enjoy. Something he thought would be worth the effort.

“What are they making you do this time?” you let out a small chuckle, understanding his tone. He was never really fond of these events. He loved his family but sometimes, it seemed their intentions were different from his and it was best to stay apart when possible but tonight- seemed unlikely.

“Some stupid dinner between families and companies.” He muttered with a roll of his eyes.

“Sounds exciting.” You giggled, “Business talk is the best talk huh?”

“Oh but of course. Old men in suits talking about stupid numbers between this place and that. Terminology I can’t even begin to be bothered to learn. Not like my mother and her friends help make these events any better.” Seokjin was sure that if he rolled his eyes any harder they would roll right out of his skull. “So what do you say [Y/N]?”

“What time?”

“Six.” He jumped up from the edge of his bed, spotting the perfect button up. He knew that once you asked for time, you were on his side.

“M’kay. I’ll be waiting.”

“Love you.’ Seokjin smiled to no one but himself.

“Love you too.” You returned it before jumping out of bed, the shower calling your name. “Now go get handsome!”

That evening started out like any other, Seokjin’s hand on the small of your back as he guided you through the stuffed room.

Music played and all around were some of the most powerful business people in the country, along with their families. For a business dinner it seemed like just a normal celebration of some sort, laughter and screams all around, despite everyone being worth a couple million dollars of course.

Seokjin stayed by your side for most of the night: arm around your shoulders, hand on your back, arm in arm or hands intertwined. He knew you weren’t used to this type of scene but also for the sake of his own comfort, being able to put up with it all as long as he stayed by your side, the closest thing to peace he had.

“Seokjin” His father grinned as he made his way over to the table you sat at. Seokjin played around your hands on the table as you both mindlessly talked about what you wanted to do the next morning.

“Father.” Seokjin nodded with a grin as his father’s hands were on the back of your chairs.

“Hello [Y/N]!” He gave you a friendly smile, the lights giving away his tipsy state, it was nice to see him enjoying himself. With a nod, he continued to speak. “You look lovely. Are you two having fun? Isn’t it lovely?”

“It’s great father.” Seokjin spoke for you before you could even open your mouth to respond.

“I have some important people I want you to meet Seokjin.” His father grabbed his shoulder, gesturing to the small group of older men just up ahead. “Get to know before you take over, yeah?” His father suggested as he began to pull him up from his seat.

Seokjin began to stutter protests, he had no interest in his father’s business. He never had the slightest desire to take over one day and therefore tried his hardest to stay away unless an occasion called for the entire family for representation.

“I’m sure [Y/N] doesn’t mind. Do you?” Mr. Seokjin raised a suggestive brow. You simply nodded and let go of Seokjin’s hand, agreeing.

“It’s okay. Just do him this quick thing okay?” You have Seokjin a loving grin as he shook his head, dreading the conversations that awaited him.

“I’ll be back quickly okay?” He placed a gentle hand on the top of your head as his father held his arm, waiting to pull him away. “Just stay here and wait.”

“I promise” You let out a small giggle, “Now go before you lose an arm.” You teased.

With a hesitant face Seokjin let himself be dragged away, the loud chatter and music made it difficult to hear your own thoughts as the amount of people suddenly felt like too much. You tried to look across the room to the glass door that led out to the balcony you hung out earlier when you first arrived, surely he’d understand if he found you there on your own. You sat and mindlessly looked around, waiting for an opportunity to get up and move.

Seokjin forced a tight lipped grin as the older men laughed and took turns to pat his shoulder and back. His father beamed about his youngest son’s most recent accomplishments: had just graduated college; top of his class, bought a new car and was planning on moving out very soon after he had just scored a very well paying job.

“Who was the pretty lady by your side Mr.Seokjin?” Seokjin looked over to his right at the first nudge to his side, a grey haired man in a suit raised a suggestive brow as Seokjin looked at him in confusion. Was he referring to you? But of course as he hadn’t left your side all night.

“Is she single?” Another asked with a wink and chuckle as the other men began to tease, wondering if she came from a successful family, making sly suggestions of young promising sons and nephews who would more than likely love an opportunity to swoon her over and welcome them into their respective families.

Seokjin was having none of it, trying to deny all advancements as nonchalantly as he could as he scanned the room for you. His eyes landed on you as you stared off into your own little world and smiled to himself, you looked adorable in his eyes.

“She’s my son’s ex-girlfriend, best friends since childhood.” His father interrupted as he swung an arm around his son’s shoulder. “They were together in highschool but she's been so supportive of his engagement to lovely Gaeon, I’m so happy she’s here tonight!” He threw his head back, taking a large sip of the beer in his hand.

Seokjin froze at the mention of his ‘engagement’. He had never proposed in the first place, it was more of a forced marriage between their families. Sure Gaeon was a nice girl but he could never see himself falling in love with her. She felt the same way, the only difference is she saw this as a business deal and nothing more, refusing to bring shame to her family. Seokjin on the other hand, thought of it as cruel and unfair, remembering the day his fate was decided.

He was sixteen and ecstatic. He had walked home with a hop in his step afterschool, thanking his stars for the boldness from earlier in the day. You had been his best friend since you were kids, the teacher had sat you two next to one another, hoping maybe the two quietest kids would open up to each other. She was right and it resulted in a beautiful friendship that lasted all the way into highschool. He was your right hand and you were his, a dynamic duo that was known across the school over the years. You had outgrown the extremely timid nature and had a steady group of friends. It didn’t take long for Seokjin to realize his feelings. You were always a flushing mess around your best friend, hardly realizing he was the same way around you, crushes that grew as time went by.

Earlier in the school day, he was leaned up against the lockers, arms crossed. He made conversation with shaky hands, waiting for you to finish up whatever you were doing in your locker, ready to walk with you like he did with your other classes, whether you had them together not. It was lunchtime so there was no rush as your group of friends sat at your usual table. They were all aware of the unspoken feelings between you two, silently rooting him on as they hoped today would be the day.

With red ears and cheeks he nervously suggested that your usual weekend hangout would mean something more, if you wanted it to of course. You had slammed the metal door in shock, causing the hallways to go silent in sudden shock.

“Wait are you serious?’” You hesitantly asked, causing Seokjin to freeze. Was this a possible rejection? He gulped with a nod and quickly muttered a ‘yes’. With apologies to those around you, you shyly agreed. Two reddened teenagers hugged in glee, he couldn't believe he had finally done it.

He remembers how your friends like Jimin and Jungkook couldn't stop teasing him.

“About time hyung!” He slapped his older friend on the back. “Now when's the wedding?”

“Shut up, it’s just a date.”

“You say that as if you wouldn’t marry her one day.” Jungkook stepped in.

“Exactly.” Jimin smirked, causing Seokjin to blush and chuckle- focusing back onto his schoolwork.

He couldn’t wait till the weekend. Seokjin couldn’t help but think it was the start of something beautiful, as he made his way through the home, throwing himself onto the couch and looking up at the ceiling with a sigh.

“Had a good day at school boy?” His father walked into the living room with a smile as Seokjin sat up, fixing his now messy hair.

“Yep!” He smiled as he began to collect his things, ready to freshen up before dinner before stopping by the staircase at the mention of his name.

“Wear something nice.” His father, Mr. Kim grinned. Seokjin raised a confused brow as his father continued, “Exciting news to share with you at dinner.”

As his father made his way into another hall in the house, Seokjin thought for a moment, shrugging to himself before heading to his room. It wasn’t anyone's birthday or anniversary, no other occasions came to mind. He figured his dad had probably struck another successful business deal.

Seokjin was dead wrong as he had stormed out of his house during dinner later that night. His mother dismissed his actions as childish, claiming he had to show appreciation at the fact that one day he would be set for life and helping his future partner do the same.

“That kind of stuff only happens in movies.” Seokjin scoffed with a chuckle as he stuffed a forkful of food into his mouth. “Anyways great dinner mom.” He said with stuffed cheeks, picking up more food.

“Think about it Seokjin.” She gave him a smile as she reached across the table to hold his hand. “It’s not like you have a girlfriend or something. Plenty of time to establish a relationship with the Choi’s.” She dismissed her son’s stare with a small wave.

“I just asked [Y/N] to a date on saturday, sorry.” He shrugged, growing annoyed at his mother's suggestion.

“Well, cancel it.” His father chimed in. Seokjin hushed as he blinked a few times- taking in the reality of the situation. “You’re going to be preparing as we invited the Choi’s over for Sunday dinner.”

“Sorry, I have plans.” Seokjin was stubborn. Surely they had to be joking despite the annoyed serious looks spread across their faces.

“Son,” His mother sighed tirelessly as she rubbed her temples. “Think about it. It’s a great opportunity. A beautiful girl from a nice family, nice background, you have plenty of time to fall in love and you’d never have to worry about any setbacks.”

“What if the setback is that I don’t want it?” He spat as he pushed out his chair. He wiped his mouth before throwing the napkin on his plate, their eyes following. “I’ve had enough food for today, thanks for the meal mother.” He said as he stormed out of the house.

The Kim’s sighed into their hands, he’d come around one day.

The day never came.

And as the years went by, your relationship grew. You made plans for a future, never having the slightest clue of his secret. Everytime his parents mentioned it he brushed them off as a joke. He dreaded every interaction between his family and the Choi’s. At one point feeling pity for the young girl his age. How on earth was he supposed to crush his parents' joy without sadness? Of course he loved them but he always felt in control of his life. An arranged marriage was not in his plan, not in lifetime, in this century. Not when he was so desperately in love with you, [Y/N L/N].

His parents soon grew fed up with his resistance, prompting him to start keeping your relationship a secret from them, having them believe he had finally grown up and was taking this whole setup seriously. To him it didn’t matter. Soon he’d graduate from college and move out, maybe cut off all communication from his family and live how he wanted.

Soon enough the reality of everything kicked in. Coming home after your fourth anniversary only to find Mrs. Choi and his mother next to one another on the couch as Gaeon sat on the couch opposite of them, bridal magazines and fabric samples spread across the coffee table.

Seokjin felt as if the room was closing in on him; a planner with phone numbers and addresses to boutiques and bakeries of the sort, possible ceremony dates, a list written all over the lines of the book.

He was even more determined to get out of his home and away from this mess.

“Have you said hi to your fiance yet?” his dad asked, snapping him out of his thoughts. Seokjin made a face, he had no idea the Choi’s were even in the venue, not a single sight of them the entire night.

“What a wonderful night for a celebration!” Another man yelled as a waiter with a tray of shot glasses passed by the group. Drinks were passed around as Seokjin held his shot close, looking around the room trying to identify any of the Choi’s in the room.

The small group cheered as they threw back their drinks with a pucker, congratulating the family.

Seokjin’s eyes widened, everything started to add up and soon enough panic kicked in. This wasn’t some sort of fun business party... This was an engagement celebration. With desperate eyes he looked around the room, spotting the senior Chois but Goean was nowhere in sight.

A sudden wave of heat washed over him as he heard a muffled tap and a chirp of a mic. Almost immediately the room had gone quiet, rising to their feet as they looked in the direction of the sound, Mrs. Kim stood with a proud smile at the front of the room. The Chois made their way to the front as Gaeon finally made her appearance, pulling away from the crowd.

Seokjin stood on his toes, using the shoulders around him as extra support, trying to catch a sight of you before it was too late. He had to get out of here and fast. ‘Fuck!’ He thought as sweat began to make it way down his forehead. “How the fuck do I get out of here?” He asked himself.

“You alright son?” His uncle pulled him close, noticing the way Seokjin’s face fell.

“I think I’m gonna pass out.” Seokjin confessed, using the sleeve of his grey blazer to wipe his forehead.

“It’s alright Seokjin” His uncle tried to cheer him up, suggesting it was probably just the butterflies of love as Seokjin shook him off. He began to mumble excuses as he faced the floor, pushing his way through the crowded room. For a large room, it felt like it was suddenly closing in, did more people arrive?

“I am so overjoyed as you could all join us tonight!” His mother stood at the front of the room, his father suddenly at her side, cheeks flushed from the alcohol.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” Seokjin bit his lip, pain feeling like a pinch due to how uneasy he felt. He continued to push through with you on his mind. He looked over to the exit, making a plan but shock grew as he spotted your group of friends come in.

What the hell did his mother do.

Taehyung and Namjoon spotted their hyung and waved with smiles. The other boys shot him a thumbs up, eyes focusing on his mother up front.

You stood with a smile, trying to get a clear view of his family, noticing he was nowhere to be seen. You were confused but shook your head, why didn’t he tell you tonight was a celebration? You guessed that his family, along with the one next to his had struck some sort of fantastic deal. Seokjin didn’t give much detail about tonight but his family had always been successful in the world of business.

You turned to look around the room and spotted your friends. You’d thought it’d just be you and Seokjin but you were ecstatic that your friends were invited. Perhaps he did it to feel more comfortable. Perhaps the news was so grand it had to be celebrated with everyone.

“I’m sure you all know why we are here.” His mother giggled, beyond proud of her family. “First I’d like to give the ever-so-great Chois a warm welcome!” The room exploded with applause.

You clapped along.

“Second and most importantly,” Mrs. Kim took a deep breath, “We are here to celebrate the wonderful engagement of my son and the only Choi daughter.”

Again you clapped along, but this time with a confused face, you haven't seen Seokjin’s older brother around but guessed he was probably around here somewhere.

It seemed it all happened in slow motion.

After so many pushes, Seokjin finally had a clear view of you, cupping his hands over his mouth.

“[Y/N]!” He waved his hand frantically, praying you’d see him.

“Will you do the honors Mrs. Choi?” Mrs.Kim placed a soft hand on the woman’s back as she took the mic, giving her the audience’s attention.

“I’m so honored and pleased to announce that after all these marvelous years- the engagement of my lovely daughter Miss. Choi Goean and Kim Seokjin. The wedding is next year and we hope to see you there!”

His friends gasped, Jungkook started choking on the cupcake he had picked up from the desert table as Hoseok rushed to and back with a cup of water.

Seokjin tried calling out to you again, failing, the crowd erupting with cheers. Like in the movies, your face suddenly changed into one of shock and then hurt. You felt as if you had just been dunked into ice cold water and time had slowed down.

‘The engagement of who?’ you thought.

With teary eyes, Seokjin finally made eye contact with you, eyes growing wide once again as he saw your expression.

It was unreadable but it was an image that would haunt him forever. You felt shortness of breath kick in, your stomach in the depths of your gut. You were surprised to find that your legs didn’t give in as you jumped out of your seat, desperate for the exit.

Seokjin lunged himself forward but was too late, missing the near grasp of your wrist as you pushed your way through the crowd.

“[Y/N]” Namjoon called out to you as they waited by the exit, “What's going on?”

“Are you okay?” Jimin asked as he softly held your shoulders. The boys and your best friend looked at you with a concerned confusion. Surely it was some sort of mistake or joke.. Right?

“[Y/N]?” Your best friend waved her hand in front of your eyes; nothing.

“[Y/N]! Wait!’ you recognized his voice and snapped back into reality.

You ran.

You ran and didn’t look back.

Ran as fast as your feet would carry you before they gave out. Your surroundings became blurry with tears threatening to spill and your hearing became muffled.

Luckily the building wasn’t too tall and you weren't as high up, ditching the elevator as you stomped your way down, running out into the busy streets.

You had to get out of here.

The sounds of cars and people passing by blocked out any voiced attempts made by Seokjin as he followed you down the street once he spotted the color of the dress you were wearing.

“[Y/N]!” He cupped his hands over his mouth once again, panting. “Stop for a second!” He leaned, palms on his knees- surprised your heels could carry you so far. With you on his mind he didn’t hear the fast steps of your friends chasing after you two.

He called out again as you turned a corner. Tears clouded your vision as they ran down your cheeks, the lights looked like blobs as your legs suddenly felt like jelly.

You sobbed into your arm, running into an alley. Dimly lit by a few spare lights, you felt your stomach come back up your throat. ‘God this feels like some sick joke.’ You didn’t have time to take another breath as you started to retch, hands against the wall before you.

Seokjin finally managed to catch up and carefully made his way over, trying to control his speeding heart. His heart- broken at the sight of you bent over, heaving. He began to hold your hair, the spare hair-tie he held for you on his wrist because you always complained about it making you hot, ready.

“Don’t.” You rolled your shoulders back, shrugging him off as you wiped your lips. “Don’t touch me, Kim Seokjin.”

Seokjin grimaced at the use of his full name, the way your voice was laced with hurt.

“Listen [Y/N]-” He began to stutter as you shook your head.

“Tell me this is some sort of joke.” You spat as you turned around to face him.

“I-”

Your friends caught up, Jungkook being a fast runner, lead. But as the scene unfolded he shushed his friends and ushered them into a nearby cafe, giving space.

“Say they fucked up and meant your brother. Tell me you're not really about to get married to someone else when you haven't even proposed let alone broken up with me Kim seokjin. Say it.”

“[Y/N] please listen to me.” He reached for your hands, shaking.

“Say it Kim Seokjin.” You pulled away. “Say it!” you challenged him.

Seokjin stayed silent as you stared at him, hot tears threatening to spill once again.

“Why aren’t you saying it?” You broke down again as your lip quivered. “Say it Jinnie! Say it!”

“I- They- Fuck.” He bit his lip so hard he tasted blood.

“She said years. How long Kim?”

“Listen to me-”

“Seokjin-”

“Just-”

“Seokjin.’ You sternly said, wiping tears away. He let out a sigh as his head fell.

“5 years.” He confessed, fresh tears rolling down his face.

“We’ve been together for almost 5 years Seokjin…” You hiccuped. “Jinnie-”

“I’m sorry!’ He sobbed at the use of his nickname again, the way you said it reminding him of a broken record. One he never intended to break. “Please just hear me out!” He pleaded, stepping closer, but with each step forward you took another back.

“Why didn't you tell me? How could you?”

“I didn’t have a choice, I never thought they were serious! But I will always choose you [Y/N]. It has always been you. Please just listen to me.”

“I can’t do this Seokjin. I don’t deserve this at all.” Angrily wiping your tears you turned around, feeling his hand grab onto your wrist.

“Please just give me time to explain and then you’ll understand. I thought this was some sort of sick joke too but baby please.” He tried to reason through his sobs. He knew he fucked up in not telling you and perhaps it was too late to even try to reason but he was gonna fight tooth and nail for the thing that meant most.

“Please don’t call me that again. Don’t look for me. I’m sorry Seokjin but this is goodbye.” Harshly yanking your wrist, you ran out of the alley and into the busy streets once again. Seokjin chocked through his sobs, snapping back into reality to try and chase after you but as soon as he left the alley- you were gone. He leaned against the cold, dirty wall, sobbing into his hands as his knees gave in.

He heard the soft steps, black dress shoes before him. He had been faced with his friends, [Y/B/F] was crying also as Yoongi laid a comforting hand on her back, her heart breaking at the sobs her friend had let out.

He knew he had a lot of explaining to do to his friends but most importantly you.

Almost a year later and you didn’t think you’d be searching for him.

“We can run away.” and for the first time that afternoon you looked up at him in confusion. “Say you’ll run away with me [Y/N]. We still have time. I can get us out of here and to some place far far away.” He began to let a couple tears fall, desperate to convince you.

A fresh wave of emotions hit you as you took in what he had just said. A small weak part of yourself tried to think about it. Running away? On his wedding day?

“We can’t do that Seokjin” You gulped with a sad shake of your head.

“Yes we can!” He interrupted before you could continue. “We don’t need any of this. As long as I have you I’m more than okay.” Once again his voice cracked as a tear rolled down his cheek, wiping it away he took another step. “Just take my hand.”

There was another moment of silence. There was so much you wanted to say before you had even arrived and now standing before the man you loved, everything vanished. Your eyes burned with tears you refused to let go of as your throat ran dry. Seokjin took your silence as a cue to desperately continue.

“I didn’t tell you this at first.” He began, taking a deep breath. “But remember how we wanted to be a family? To live happily ever after?”

You continued to look at him, emotions unreadable.

“I saved up.” Seokjin took another step. “Little by little, I took amounts my parents wouldn’t notice much and saved them into my own secret account.” He confessed as shock ran through your body. “I never mentioned it. The funds are ours. For a home. For a family. I saved up for us. It’s more than enough to get us by for a while. To run away and be happy without all these outside voices. You don’t have to worry about a single thing, all you have to do is take my hand and say you still love me. Please [Y/N].” With the back of his hand he roughly wiped away the free falling tears as the other finally took a grasp of your free hand.

“Why didn’t you tell me this?” You ignored the heat that ran down your spine, the first physical contact you’ve had with Seokjin in months. “Why did you do that?”

“I did it for you. For us.” He licked his lips, throat running dry with pleads. “We don’t have much time, c’mon [Y/N]. We can still make it out of here in time.”

“No Seokjin.” You hiccuped and pulled your hand away.

“What do you mean no?” Shock evident on his face. “Why else would you be here?” His eyebrows furrowed in confusion, eyes scanning over your face looking for any signs of regret.

“I’m sorry it was a mistake.” You bit the inside of your cheek.

“Why did you come here then?” Seokjin challenged as you turned around to face him again. “You can’t expect me to believe me you came here because you don’t love me anymore. You obviously do.”

Seokjin began to grow angry. First he lost control of his own path, second lost the love of his life and now third- she was back but it wasn't for him? Was life really that unfair?

“I don’t want this and I’m sure as hell you don’t want this either.” Seokjin sat across his promised fiance one day, meeting at a cafe.

“You’re right.” She agreed, taking a sip of her coffee.

“Then why go through with this?” Seokjin shook his head. “Let’s tell our parents this is a no-go and you can live your life while I’ll live mine.”

“No.” Goean made no effort to look at him as she brought her napkin to her lips.

“What do you mean no?” Seokjin furrowed his brows. “You literally just agreed with me.”

“I may agree with you,” She paused, taking another sip.

“But..?” Seokjin leaned forward. Of course there was a but.

“My grandfather did not start this empire from the ground up only for it to crumble two generations later. You have love and I have pride Kim.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Seokjin sighed, throwing himself back into his chair, hands on his head.

“I’m very serious.” She was expressionless. “I’d be fine with anyone else, so don’t think this is a name thing. Just so happens your parents suggested my family and mine agreed. No harsh feelings. In fact no feelings at all.” She spat as he scowled.

“So am I.” Seokjin challenged. “I lost the love of my life and I’ll do anything to get her back.”

“Why weren’t you honest with her from the get go?” She tilted her head, taunting him. “Better yet you could’ve run away. My parents would’ve found anyone else.”

“You suggest that now?” He spat in anger.

“Obviously since you didn’t think of it sooner Seokjin.” Goean finished the remainder of her coffee, standing up. “You had years. That was your mistake, not mine. See you later Kim.”

You thought it over for a moment, cowering under his stare.

“I don’t know why.” You confessed, hands behind your back. It was truthful. You really had forgotten why you even came in the first place. At first you thought it was to see him one last time. To wish him well and say goodbye. The closure you needed but was too afraid to get. A needed reality check after running for so long. Something to finally wake you from this nightmare. This is real life whether you liked it or not. Seokjin was off to be a married man and sadly it wasn't you.

“Pathetic.” Seokjin scoffed. “It’s pathetic.”

“Pardon?” You stuttered with wide eyes.

“You don’t get to come here on my supposed happy day and not know why. Tell me the truth.” He spat.

“I’m being honest, Seokjin. Something you never were. I don’t know why I decided on coming here but now I realize how selfish I was. I made a mistake.”

“Why can't you be selfish just this once?” His voice cracked. “I get I messed up, horribly I know. But can’t you see I love you? It has always been you. I’ll always choose you.” Seokjin reasoned.

“Jinnie-” His nickname slipped from your lips as he let out another batch of tears.

“[Y/N] please. It’ll hurt even more to let you go. Stay with me. Run away with me. Choose me.”

“I’m sorry-”

-DING DONG-

The large clock tower let out a large ring as the hand moved into the new hour. Music began to play and only increased in volume. It was time.

“I have to go.” With a sob, you stepped away from Seokjin who stared at you with his jaw dropped. The clock tower let out another chime as his head snapped up at the sound. He uttered a curse word and looked back at you- you had left.

“[Y/N]!” Seokjin’s hand came up to his mouth, an all too familiar feeling. He looked around the garden, spotting the flow of your dress disappear behind a hedge.

His feet carried him, fate gave him another chance and this time he was going to take it.

The clock let out a third chime and he wanted nothing more but to knock it down, shut it up for it reminded him of his mistake. He could still see a soft blurb of color, cursing your speed. Suddenly he found himself in front of a fountain, he reached deep into the garden. He desperately looked for you and broke down when he realized you had slipped away again. Another cursed chime of the clock and he fell to his knees as he kneeled over into the grass, crying into his arms. The fountain disguised his cries and hid yours as you were a few meters away, behind a bushed fence, violently sobbing into your hands.

[thekytchensynk]

Business Lunch (Fictober Prompt 15)

Prompt number: 15

Fanfiction Fandom: Ducktales

Rating: G

Warnings: No warnings

Read this story on AO3

The letter had arrived without a return address, which had set off some warning bells for Fenton and ALL of the warning bells for his mother.

"What is this?" She gestured to it. "What sort of fool thinks we'd-" She trailed off as Fenton just opened it the way he would any other piece of junk mail, giving him a look of disbelief mixed with anxiety that, once upon a time, would have meant he was grounded, big-time.

"No one would send me a bomb or something through the mail," he argued.

But it didn’t turn out to be either junk mail or some sort of booby trap. It was, instead, a letter inviting Fenton to a “lunch meeting to discuss a potential scientific opportunity.” It didn’t even use a name, just starting “To the lucky resident” instead.

His mother’s eyes further narrowed. She didn’t even need to say anything -- he knew the contents made her even more suspicious. And to be fair, Fenton couldn’t blame her. To a detective, this had to look like step one in either a scam or crime.

But he’d already decided to check it out. The “meeting” was to be held at a fairly popular cafe called Serene Subsistence, so the chances of someone trying something were low. And if the person knew where he lived, they also probably knew he was Gizmoduck -- he wasn’t sure anyone in the neighborhood didn’t. So if they did try something, he had ways to handle the trouble.

So the next day, Fenton made his way to the cafe. Since it was a nice spring day and since the letter hadn’t specified any particular seating arrangements, he chose to sit at a small outdoor table in front of the place, shaded by a blue-striped umbrella and looking through the minimalistic menu.

Fenton hadn’t eaten at Serene Subsistence before, and now that he’d arrived, he sort of understood why. His instincts must have seen something in the decor, or in the sign design, and warned him off. Instead of describing the various options, the menu gave each one just a picture, a name -- something like “the Green Continent” or “the October Surprise” -- and a small list of icons to indicate whether the meal was low-salt, low-fat, gluten-free, all-organic or a host of other things. Huge swaths of white space surrounded each entry.

“You’d think they could put a few lists of ingredients,” Fenton mused out loud, squinting at the menu as though that might reveal hitherto unseen text.

“Awww. come on, where’s the fun in that?”

“You.” The word was out of his mouth before he could stop it, disgusted and angry and very out of place in this hip cafe. If that hadn’t drawn people’s attention, the way the glassware and silverware rattled as he slammed the menu to the tabletop would have.

Mark Beaks waved a hand at him dismissively as he pulled up the selfie camera on his phone and snapped a picture of himself in front of the table. “Come on, calm down, we’re not here to fight. We’re here to talk business.”

“I wouldn’t be here if I’d known I’d be talking business with you,” Fenton said, enunciating hard to prevent his full anger from leaking through.

Beaks grinned at him as though he were a kid who just got his times tables right. “Of course. That’s why I didn’t put my name on it. Uh-duh.” He pulled one of the other chairs at the table out and plopped into it without looking, eyes already back on the phone. “So, yeah, thanks for not looking into that too much, I would have felt really stupid if I get here and you hadn’t shown up.”

Fenton would have loved to have done that. He would have loved to be anywhere but here. Just showing up had given this arrogant tech addict a win, and this guy liked nothing better than wins. Which left him which the difficult task of trying to decide if leaving or staying would give this guy another win.

Or, which would be better for him. After all … what did Beaks want? Why would he be here? If he was plotting something, odds were good that just letting him talk would get it out into the air. Would that be worth dealing with a bit of Beaks to find that out? Maybe stop something before it started?

With a sigh that couldn’t even contain all of the disappointment he felt at doing this, Fenton sat back down. “All right,” he said. “What do you want?”

“Simple. I’m headhunting.”

For a brief moment -- blame too many supervillains -- Fenton thought he was talking like … literal headhunting. Like decapitating people. Luckily, before he could let his reaction to that get onto his face, the clinical part of his mind reminded him that this was a business meeting, and that in business parlance, headhunting had a whole other meaning.

“So, what, are you checking someone’s references?” Fenton asked, trying not-terribly-hard to cut the venom out of his voice. “Looking for recommendations? People who might be willing to build a body-bulking villain serum to-” His mind put two and two together and came up with an answer he did not like.”Are you trying to hire Dr. Gearloose away? Because whatever his reputation, he’s very loyal to the-”

“Gear wha?” Beaks finally looked up from his phone again, and he looked and sounded so puzzled that Fenton felt sure it had to be real. Any skill Beaks had at deception didn’t really center on fooling others with an act so much as just ignoring most people so you never had to worry about fooling them.

Despite that Dr. Gearloose not being the target was good news, Fenton found himself somewhat insulted on his mentor’s behalf. “He’s one of the greatest scientific minds on the planet,” Fenton said. “But you’d never get him away from his lab.”

“Ohhhhh! The guy whose stuff always goes evil!” Beaks said, looking pleased at having worked this out. “Yeah, no. Not interested. Scrooge can keep that stuff. Not good for the Waddle image when things suddenly go all…” He finished the thought by curling one hand into a claw-like shape and making a rasping sound that Fenton assumed was meant to personify “evil.”

But if he really, honestly didn’t care about Dr. Gearloose … “So why are you here?”

“For you-” something about the way he said it made Fenton think there was initially meant to be another word there -- his name probably. But Beaks had probably forgotten it. It was certainly on brand. “I said it in the letter, right?”

“The letter was vague,” Fenton pointed out. “And it’s not like the two of us are exactly on good terms.”

Again Beaks wave a hand, as though dismissing the entirely valid criticism out of hand. “Past is past,” he said. “Just let it go. I want to offer you a spot at my company and I don’t want any misunderstandings to get in the way of that.”

“Misunderstandings?” Fenton’s voice rose again, drawing more stares. Forcing his tone back to an annoyed murmur, he added, “Like when you put countless lives in danger just for your … your click count?”

“Clicks? What, no,” Beaks said, seeming scandalized. But Fenton counted in his head. Three. Two. One. “It’s likes, man. Engagement is key. Clicks. Who even clicks on something anymore…”

“Whatever,” Fenton said.

“But yeah, I meant misunderstandings like that,” Beaks added, almost as an afterthought. “We just need to move past that and see if we can come to a beneficial arrangement.”

The absolute nerve of this guy. “Listen,” he said, and this time it really was a bare whisper. “The suit will never go anywhere near you or your-”

“Wait, wait wait.” Beaks interrupted, shaking his head. “Not that. You. I got to hear some of what you showed off to Dee on that infiltration mission, some seriously interesting stuff in there. We could use someone with that sort of brainpower in our labs.”

That brought him up short. Him? The offer still wasn’t tempting, but that one reveal had changed the entire perception of their conversation. This was about him? About science?

And also about the info he learned from spying on what you thought was a date, the logical part of him mind reminded him unhelpfully.

“You want me to … invent things? For Waddle?” Fenton repeated, just to make sure. This felt wrong, like a trap. It seemed like something that might actually be part of a real business, not the sham that Beaks seemed to run.

Beaks was back on the phone again, and Fenton would have assumed he’d checked out entirely if he didn’t keep on answering questions and comments. “Well, yeah,” he said. “The awesome Waddle devices that trendy young influencers just have to have don’t invent themselves, you know. Slap our name and logo on them and boom! Instant must-have gear. Something for the shareholders to talk about. I gotta prove I can still bring in the cool -- and the cash, too.”

Ah. “So anything that the people in your lab, you take credit for?”

“Duh.” Beaks looked across the table at him, and for the first time in this entire conversion, it felt like he was actually being serious. “People don’t just want the goods, they want to feel like they’re buying into something larger than life. If I sold our phones under some other random name with a stodgy old buzzard as the CEO, you know what sort of market share that would get? None. Because people don’t just want a phone, they want a phone from me. It’s the same reason people react so strongly to you when the cops could usually do the exact same thing. Because they weren’t just saved, they were saved by a hero.”

He hadn’t thought about it that way before, and now, he sort of wished he never had. A hero? His mother was a hero. She’d saved as many people as he, probably more, and she also did the things needed to bring them to trial, to let justice do its work. All he could really do was stop what was right in front of him. Maybe Beaks was right about how it worked in business. But that was maybe the best reason of all to just stop listening to the idiocy that came out of his mouth. All it did was validate Beaks’ own sense of importance.

He stood. Started to leave. “Thanks, but I’ve got to go.”

A chair scraped. “Hey!” Beaks’ indignant voice followed him.

He felt the hand on his shoulder, trying to tighten with some degree of command or control, but it felt laughable. Weak. And then Beaks said, “Hey, amigo, hold on, tell me what the problem is. We can work something out.”

Whirling, Fenton said, “If I was interested, what would the starting pay be?”

Except he said it in Spanish. Not as fluid as his mother’s but still far more dancing than that one thudding word when Beaks has uttered it.

He expected the confusion -- the tech CEO wasn’t fooling anyone into thinking he could actually speak another language. But he got the other thing he expected to see almost immediately. The narrowing of the eyes. The darkening of the expression, as anger took the edge off Beaks’ carefree attitude. He’d been asked a question, he didn’t understand the question, and he thought not being able to answer it made him look foolish. That more than anything else told him all he needed to know.

“All right. Not interested, thank you.”

He didn’t even wait around to see if Beaks reacted to that. He just walked away.

[dlwritings]

Got Your Six | Tom Holland | pt 1

series masterlist found here

general masterlist found here

pairing - mob!Tom x reader word count - 4,257 warnings - language

summary - (Y/N) and her sister, April, think they’re in for a normal day at their family coffee shop, but two, new, intriguing customers come in and change everything.

(next)

“(Y/N), can you make a vanilla latte for Eleanor?”

“I’ve gotta warm up a muffin for Ted.”

“Okay, well, after that?”

“What are you doing?”

“Working register.”

“There’s no one in line, April.”

“But you never know when someone will show up!”

“I hate you.”

My sister, April, stuck her tongue out at me as I rolled my eyes with a smile. The microwave beeped, so I quickly took the chocolate chip muffin out and set it on a plate. I walked it over to one of the tables and gave it to Ted, a 60-or-so-year-old gentleman who was a regular customer at my family’s cafe, Bake and Brew.

Most of our customers were regulars. As one of the only bakeries in the neighborhood that had been running successfully for over twenty years, it made sense that we often knew the people who came in by name.

I worked with my sister, April -younger than me by two years- at the cafe every weekday over the summers from 6:00 in the morning when we opened until noon when our cousins -Robin and Daisy- clocked in. The bakery was a family business. My mom and aunt did more of the booking and keeping things while my dad and uncle did all the baking. We had been running that way since I was 18, so for about four years. It worked well, and my parents were relieved they didn’t need to get down on their hands and knees to convince April and I to keep working, even when we both moved out.

April was pretty much my best friend. It wasn’t that I didn’t have friends in college. It was just that not a lot of them lived in New York like I did. I graduated a month prior, so most of them already moved back to their hometowns. But that was fine by me, because I had April. She had been my right hand (wo)man for my whole life, and when I was with her, I didn’t need anyone else.

Except, as she would so often remind me, a boyfriend. I needed a boyfriend. Or at least she said I needed a boyfriend. I didn’t think I needed anyone. I was quite content being romantically on my own. No one had sparked my interest in that way since high school, and as long as I had my vibrator, I didn’t need a man.

“What about for companionship?” April would always tell me.

“That’s what I have you for,” I would say back.

“Whatever,” she would say with a roll of her eyes. “I’m only gonna break your heart.”

I moved out of my parents house as soon as I turned 18, and April moved in with me two years later. We were a dynamic duo, unstoppable by anyone.

The bell above the cafe door jingled just as I was finishing Eleanor’s latte. I brought it over to her table while April greeted our customers- two boys I didn’t recognize. The first boy was shorter than the second, but not by much. They both had sharp and striking features. The arms of the first boy were more defined than the second, but his eyes weren’t as bright. In fact, his whole vibe was darker. Not the clothes he was wearing, but the impression he was giving off. His jaw was more tense, his eyes darting around more suspiciously. The second boy, however, had his eyes locked on April. And he was smiling. I, like the protective sister I was, went to join her at the counter.

“What can I get started for you boys today?” I asked. April shot me an annoyed look, but I kept my eyes on the boys. Now that I was standing right in front of them with only a counter between us, I could take in more details. The taller boy was wearing dark jeans, a white t-shirt, and a black jacket, while the shorter was wearing a white button up with his sleeves rolled to the elbows and a pair of black slacks. His eyes were dark brown, but the other’s were bright blue. I decided they weren’t brothers.

“Two black coffees,” the shorter boy said at the same time the other said, “What do you recommend?” with his eyes still on April.

“I always like the Americano,” April said, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. It was a tell tale sign she was attracted to someone. “It’s basically espresso and hot water. It’s like black coffee but better.”

“I’m sold,” the boy said with a smile. “An Americano for me, and a black coffee for my equally bitter friend here.” He tried to clap the other boy on the shoulder, but he nudged him away with a roll of his eyes.

April rang up their orders while I poured the shorter boy some coffee. “I haven’t seen you two here before,” I said, trying to catch his eye as I handed him his drink. I was suspicious. “We usually know everyone who comes in here.” the shorter boy ignored me, but the taller gave me a smile.

“We don’t usually stop by this end of town,” he explained.

“What brings you by?” April asked, handing him the Americano.

“Just had some business to take care of,” he said. He took a sip of his drink, and his smile widened. I wasn’t sure it was possible, but there he did it before my eyes. I understood why April was charmed, but I was too annoyed with the other boy to really focus on anything else. “This is perfect,” he said, raising his cup a bit. “Thank you.”

“Anytime,” April said, the apples of her cheeks turning red. She stuck her hand out for the boy to shake. “I’m April.” She nodded her head in my direction. “This ray of sunshine is my sister, (Y/N).” I gave the boy a sarcastic smile, but he seemed unphased.

“I’m Harrison,” he said, shaking April’s hand. “This is Tom.” The boy didn’t look up from his phone as he gave me and April a wave. It made me roll my eyes again. Tom locked his phone and shoved it in his pocket.

“Let’s go, Harrison,” he said. Harrison nodded and gave me and April (mostly April) one last dazzling smile.

“I’ll be sure to stop by again sometime, April,” he said, shooting her a wink. “It was nice to meet you two.” He looked at me, and I just sent him another patronizing smile.

“You too,” April said.

Tom left the cafe, not saying a word to the rest of us, and Harrison sent us one last wave and followed. As soon as they were out of sight, April turned to me with wide eyes. “Oh my god,” she said. “Were they hot or what?”

“Oh come on,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I wouldn’t have even given them a second glance if blue-eyed boy wasn’t gaping at you the whole time.”

“Harrison,” she corrected with a blush. “And you’re just upset that Tom didn’t look at you.”

“I can honestly say I was not upset about that,” I said.

“Mhm,” April hummed. Knowing I wouldn’t be able to convince her otherwise, I just rolled my eyes and got back to work.

Of course she was right. Both boys were hot, but I wasn’t interested. Harrison clearly had eyes for April, and Tom seemed like an asshole. Not my type. I hoped I’d never have to see them again.

Unfortunately, Harrison was a charmer.

He and Tom stopped by the cafe the next day as well, this time looking a bit more casual. Well, Harrison did anyway. He had swapped out his white t-shirt and black jacket for a plain red t-shirt, still with his dark jeans. Tom was still wearing black slacks and a button-up shirt, this time black instead of white. The black on black outfit would make me feel some type of way if I didn’t find his personality completely aggravating.

Tom, again, got a black coffee while Harrison opted for another Americano. April chatted with Harrison. He sat at the bar and April stood on the other side, her chin in her hand, completely infatuated with every word leaving his mouth. This left me with Tom. Tom also sat at the bar -a few seats down from Harrison to give him some privacy- but was on his phone, just as he was the day before. I didn’t know if I should strike up a conversation with him or just leave him be. The cafe was oddly empty, so I was bored out of my mind. 

Now that I thought about it, it was kind of weird that it wasn’t busy. Just as the thought entered my mind, the bell above the door rang. I looked up, eager to welcome a customer, but as soon as they entered, their eyes grew wide and they turned around and left.

What the hell?

“That was weird,” I said aloud, thought I knew no one was listening.

“What was weird?” Tom asked, shocking me, but still not looking up from his phone.

“That guy just walked in and walked right out,” I said. “That doesn’t happen a lot.”

“Maybe he saw the two employees flirting with the customers and decided to turn around,” Tom said. I furrowed my eyebrows at him, feeling a surge of anger.

“First of all,” I said, “I’m not flirting with you. In fact, the mere idea that I would be flirting with you right now is laughable considering you haven’t even looked at me since you got here.” As if only to contradict my point, Tom locked his phone and looked up. “Second of all-” I looked at April and Harrison who were still wrapped up in their conversation and lowered my voice. “-your friend started this, so don’t act like this is all one-sided.”

“I’m not saying it’s one-sided,” Tom said. “I’m just saying you should never mix business and pleasure.”

“And I’m just saying you’re an asshole,” I muttered, turning to wipe the countertop just for something to do.

“What was that, sweetheart?” Tom said, the right side of his lip raising into a smirk.

“Oh, you’re gonna want to never call me that again,” I said, looking up at him behind squinted eyes.

“Then you’re probably never going to want to call me an asshole,” he said, still smirking. I wanted to slap that smirk right off his face.

“What would you prefer?” I asked, painting on a sarcastic smile of my own. “Conceited douchebag?”

“You think I’m conceited?” he asked with a chuckle. “Princess, you don’t even know me.”

“If you call me one more nickname, I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” he taunted. “Please enlighten me, darling.”

“I swear to God fucking above-”

“Hey,” April said, causing Tom and I to both snap our heads in her direction. She and Harrison were both watching us. Harrison looked amused. “(Y/N), Harrison wants to know if we want to get dinner tonight.”

“Oh does he?” Tom asked, raising his eyebrow.

“He does,” Harrison said, shooting Tom a glare. “It’ll be fun. And you’re coming, too.”

“I don’t think I am,” Tom said.

Harrison let out an annoyed sigh. “Ladies, could you excuse us for a moment?” April nodded as Harrison stood up and nodded his head for Tom to follow him. Tom did, looking pissed as he did so. April looked at me with hard eyes.

“You’re going,” she said.

“I’m not,” I said. “And you can’t make me.”

“I think I can,” she said.

“And how do you-”

“I’ll tell Mom and Dad about Chris.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

Chris was an old family friend of my parents’, and I may or may not’ve hooked up with him a couple times.

What? He wasn’t even 40 and he was hot and had a daddy kink. It was only a couple times, and it was over a year ago. I prided myself in keeping it a secret from my parents. I was pretty sure they thought i was still a virgin, and I had no desire to let them think any different.

“You’re a bitch,” I said, folding my arms across my chest.

“I learn from the best.”

At that exact moment, Harrison and Tom came back. Tom looked just as annoyed as he did before, but Harrison’s smile had grown wider. “Tonight, 7:00,” he said. He handed April a piece of paper that had an address on it. “You can meet us at that address.”

“Let me guess,” I said. “You’re sending us to a crack house where we’re gonna be raped and murdered.”

“Jesus Christ, (Y/N),” April said, slapping my arm.

“It’s our house,” Harrison said with a slight chuckle. “But if you get there and decide it’s too sketchy, feel free to turn around and ditch us.” April laughed, tucking another piece of hair behind her ear, and Harrison smiled again. “Well, we’ll see you two later,” he said. April waved him off, I sent him a sarcastic smile, and he left- Tom following behind him, not sparing us another glance.

5:00 rolled around, and April and I were both getting ready. As soon as she got out of the shower, I got in. April knocked on the door and asked if she could brush her teeth. I let her, and she asked me what I was planning on wearing. “I don’t know,” I answered. “Doesn’t really matter, does it?”

“Harrison texted me that it was a nicer place,” she told me.

“He texted you?” I asked, peaking my head out from behind the curtain.

“Yeah,” she said.

“When did you get his number?”

“When he asked us to dinner. It only makes sense.”

I rolled my eyes and went back to my shower. “I still don’t care what I’m wearing,” I told her.

“Well I do,” she said. “You’re going to look cute.”

“I’m going to wear jeans.”

“You are not. You’re going to wear a dress and you’re going to like it.”

“Can’t make me.”

“Chris.”

I stuck my head out from behind the curtain again. The shampoo started to drip down the side of my face. “Have I said yet that I can’t stand you?” I said. “Because I can’t fucking stand you.” April smiled and spit the toothpaste into the sink, then left me alone in the bathroom.

When I finished my shower and went into my bedroom, I saw that April had laid out two outfits for me: one was a black dress, the other a black romper. “Gee!” I yelled to her, knowing she was in her room. “Glad you gave me options.”

“I love you!”

I decided on the romper. It was cute but also kind of sexy. Not that I wanted to look sexy for anyone in particular. Sometimes it was just nice to look sexy for myself. And that was exactly what I told April when she wolf whistled at me. She was wearing a red dress that I knew to be her I’m-gonna-get-some dress. “If you bring him over, don’t keep me up all night,” I told her.

“I won’t make any promises,” she said with a wink.

“Ugh,” I shuddered. “I hate thinking about you having sex.”

“No one’s asking you to think about it.”

We plugged the address Harrison gave us into my phone and headed off. It was about a twenty minute drive, and it looked like it was a nicer area of town. When we pulled up to the house, I saw that I was right. Because this wasn’t a house. This was a mansion. Once I pulled up to the gate (yes, gate), April and I both stared up at the house in awe. I pulled up to the intercom and was met with a voice that said, “Name?”

“Uh, I’m (Y/N),” I said. “And I’m with my sister April. We’re here to meet Tom and Harrison?” There was silence on the other end, but the gate opened and let us in. “I hate this,” I told her. “This is creepy.”

“Creepy?” April repeated. “Are you kidding? They’re rich! This is amazing!”

Harrison and Tom were waiting outside for us. I parked the car in their driveway and got out with April. She approached Harrison with a quick hug, and I trailed behind, awkwardly sending him a wave. Tom had his arms folded across his chest and looked like he wanted to be anywhere except with us. He and Harrison were both wearing the same outfit- black slacks and white button-up shirts. Tom’s sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, just like they had been the first day we met, but Harrison’s were down to his wrists. Tom’s hair was gelled smoothly, but Harrison’s was fluffier and less put-together. Those two facts alone were perfect examples of the stark differences in their personality.

“We’ll drive, yeah?” Harrison said.

“Okay!” April agreed. Harrison led us to the three-car garage and opened it. In it sat three black vehicles: a Rolls Royce, an Audi, and a Porsche. Mine and April’s jaws both dropped, and Harrison chuckled.

“Have a preference?” Harrison asked.

Before either of us could say anything, Tom said, “We’re taking the Audi.” I rolled my eyes at him, not really caring if he saw. He did. “Is that a problem, princess?” he asked, a smirk growing on his lips.

“Dude, I swear to god-”

“Dude?” Tom repeated.

“Would you prefer motherfucker?”

“(Y/N)!” April said, slapping my arm. Tom, however, just laughed. It was the first time I had heard the sound, and it threw me off guard. It looked like it did the same for April.

“Such a dirty mouth on such a pretty girl,” Tom said. This earned a roll of the eyes from both me and Harrison. April seemed stunned silent.

“Let’s go,” Harrison said.

The four of us got into the vehicle and headed off to the restaurant. Harrison told us the name of it, but I had never heard of it and neither had April. When we got there, it looked like a little hole-in-the-wall place. When we got inside though, it was like a whole different world. The lights were low, and the decor was fancy. Right away, I felt like I didn’t belong. We had to push through a crowd of people just to find our way to the booth Tom had reserved.

We sat down at the booth in a secluded corner of the restaurant. “Hello Mr. Holland, Mr. Osterfield,” the waiter said as he approached our table. “The usual to drink?”

“Please,” Harrison said at the same time that Tom nodded. “April, (Y/N)?” April and I both asked for waters. I was surprised with how quickly our drinks came back to us. In fact, everything happened quickly. I hadn’t noticed until we were already being handed our meals not even twenty minutes after ordering them. I swore that was a record for any restaurant I had ever been to. Tom and Harrison seemed unphased.

“What is it you guys do?” I asked them both. “Like, I don’t mean to be rude, but the big house? The fancy restaurant just for a couple of strangers? You’ve clearly got no problem throwing money around.”

“(Y/N)!” April said. She was getting annoyed with me, I could tell. At the same time, I didn’t care.

“Real estate,” Tom said.

I snorted. “Real estate? Seriously? That’s what you’re going with?” Tom shrugged and took a sip of his drink- whiskey on the rocks.

“I’m going to go touch up my lipstick,” April said, standing up from the table. “(Y/N), come with me?” It was a command, but she phrased it as a question. I rolled my eyes but followed her anyway. As soon as we were in the bathroom, she turned to me with a huff. “Will you quit being such a bitch?” she said.

“I’m not!” I said.

“Oh fuck off,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“I’m just looking out for you. I don’t trust these guys.”

“I can look out for myself.”

“I know that, but-”

“But nothing! Quit being so mean to them. They’re nice guys.”

“Harrison’s a nice guy,” I said. “Tom-”

“I think he likes you,” she said with a shrug. As my jaw dropped, she turned to the mirror and actually started to reapply her lipstick.

“You’re kidding me, right?” I said.

She shrugged again. “You know how boys can be. They’re rude to the girls they like.”

“In elementary school,” I said. “Besides, what kind of boys will be boys bullshit is that?”

“I think you should just cut him some slack,” she said. “Give him a chance. He may be a little off-putting, but you’re not exactly little-miss-sweetheart either.”

“I’m not little-miss-sweetheart because assholes aren’t my type.”

“Give me a break.” She rolled her eyes. “You almost exclusively date assholes.”

“And I’m trying something new.”

“That’s what you said before you fucked Chris.”

“April, I swear to god-”

“I’m teasing!” she finally laughed, bumping her hip with mine. “Relax. God, you really need to get laid.”

The rest of the dinner wasn’t too painful. Tom mostly kept his mouth shut, which I was grateful for, but it felt like Harrison and April were in their own world. I didn’t want to pull out my phone because I hated when people did that, but I was getting bored. For lack of anything better to do, I started people watching. A lot of the customers were like Tom and Harrison: put together and rich looking. My eyes were currently trained on a booth across the restaurant. In it sat three men, all probably in their 30s. They were hunched over, talking to each other in hushed voices.

“It isn’t nice to stare,” Tom said, snapping me out of my thoughts.

I huffed. “Maybe if you struck up a conversation with me, I wouldn’t have to find entertainment somewhere else.”

“Conversing is a two-way street, sweets,” he said.

“Sweets?” I repeated. “That’s what you’re going with now?”

“I’m just trying things out,” he said, hiding his smirk behind his whiskey. “You haven’t been satisfied with anything else.”

“Because my name is (Y/N),” I said, my fist clenching. “It’s not that hard.”

“I’m more of a nickname kind of guy myself,” Tom said with a shrug.

“Oh?” I said. He was baiting me, I knew, but I was bored so I took it. “And what’re your nicknames?”

“I don’t have nicknames,” he said. “I go by four names and four names alone.”

“And they are?”

“Tom, Mr. Holland, sir, and boss.”

“Boss?”

“Yes?” he said, teasing me again. I rolled my eyes and drank from my water.

“Alright,” I said. “So what are Harrison’s nicknames.”

“Harrison?” Tom said, glancing at his friend before looking at me again. “H, Haz-”

“So original,” I said. Tom shrugged.

“I can’t exactly call him peaches,” he said.

“God,” I groaned. “If you listen to anything I say to me, let it be that I never want you to call me peaches.”

Tom chuckled. “Alright, I’ll give you that one, petal.”

“Petal?”

“Cut me some slack.”

I wasn’t having fun with him. No way.

“So I can’t give you any nicknames?” I asked.

“No you cannot,” he said.

“And what’ll you do if I do?” I asked. I hesitated, then added, “Tommy?” Tom’s jaw clenched, and he downed the last of the whiskey in his glass. He looked me in the eyes -they were darker than they had been all night- and licked his lips.

“If you call me that again,” he said, “I’ll make sure you know why I go by sir.”

“Alright, I think we’re ready to go.”

April was smiling widely, clearly not aware of the conversation she just broke up between me and Tom. I, however, swallowed thickly, not having a clue how to move forward. It was as if Tom had already forgotten, because he stood up and tossed his napkin on the table. Harrison, April, and I stood up from the table as well and followed Tom out to the car.

The ride back to the mansion was silent, and I wasn’t surprised when Tom headed straight inside when we arrived. Harrison whispered something to April, and she giggled and nodded, then waved him off as he went inside. “He’s not coming back with us?” I asked, walking over to my car.

“I’m actually going to stay here with him,” she said, kicking her feet against the ground. I raised my eyebrows. “What?” she said. “It’s fine. It’s not like you’ve never had a one night stand at some other guy’s house.”

“Yeah, but those guys were normal,” I said.

“Listen,” April huffed, “you’ve done it, okay? You did your big sister job. Thank you. I appreciate it. Now please, just let me go. You know our SOS text.”

“Of course I know our SOS text.”

“Alright, then relax unless I send it.”

I rolled my eyes but hugged her anyway, placing a kiss to her cheek. “Be careful,” I told her. “Have fun. Be safe. I don’t want to be an aunt.”

“Jesus,” April laughed, giving me a little shove. “Go! Enjoy your wine and vibrator.”

“I will.”

I sat in the car until April was safely in the house. Safely. Why couldn’t I shake the feeling that being with Harrison and Tom and being safe were mutually exclusive?

----- ----- ----- -----

TAGLIST

@bangtan-serendipity | @planetdemon | @the-singing-clown406 | @tomshufflepuff | @bluelalal | @grandloser | @jackiehollanderr | @mindset-jupiter | @bisexual-sk8r | @feel-like-gold | @runaway-apple | @miraclesoflove | @marvelismylifffe| @wonderbyers | @coraz0ndcristal| @lizmarvel​ |  @hannihannelora

[shrimppebbles]

Through the Generations

there’s probably another challenge named this, but I am not good at names, so I’m keeping it

*this challenge is currently unfinished as I am play testing it and fell into a rut, but feel free to start from this point*

this challenge is a free forming challenge meant for me to hopefully enjoy the sims more and have structured legacy that I like without anything that seems to hard. this legacy can be bended however you want and the gens played in whatever order you want (each gen however has a backstory and will not work if you switch them around, so create your own backstory if you switch generations around) there are a lot of pack requirements I didn’t intend to make, but you can skip those or modify them to your will.

Also, feel free to play with siblings and such to make fun family trees, just make sure to have “auto-age current household only” on!

we’ll get into all the rules below the cut to make it neat, but incase I ever delete my tumblr or it gets deactivated, HERE is a google doc of the rules too 

@sims4challenges​ @ts4-challengenet​

Some Basics before we get into the Generations

Heirs are whoever you choose unless specified 

You can give the next generation however much of the family funds of the current generation as you choose

Piggy-backing off of that, unless specified you can use however many funds you want to build/buy new lots

You can create sims to be your spouse and add them into the world unless specified

Any lifespan length is fine, although regular is recommended

Start each gen at young adult unless specified 

You can have pets in any generation unless otherwise specified

You can have same-sex or hetero couples per each generation (your choice). In same-sex couples, you may adopt or use a mod that will allow try for baby and pregnancy between them

and lastly...have fun and please tag me if you play or use the tag #ThrGen, I’d love to see it!

Generation one: A Big Happy Family 

family oriented, [your choice], [your choice]

any family aspiration

You grew into young adulthood with absolutely no-one, no siblings or parents, it’s not something you would wish onto your worst enemies, let alone your own family. You vow to make a large, happy family for your own children and never want to lead a boring life for your kids

Marry one of the first sims your spouse meets

Have 10 children (you can use mods if you wish, but just replacing them as they move out is fine)

You can live in whichever world you want, just pick the biggest lot of that respective world

Paint, write, or any other work from home job (your spouse may hold a part-time job or do the same)

Max the parenting, cooking, and charisma skills

Grow a nice little veggie garden

Have good relationship with all children

Most of your children should have the happy toddler trait and at least one positive character trait

Generation two: Work, Work, Work

 [your choice], [your choice], [your choice]

fabulously wealthy aspiration

You didn’t hate growing up in a full, loud house, but you saw how much your parents sacrificed of their own freedom and ambitions for you and you never want your family to come in between your dreams and you like that. So you move to the city to build up a career for yourself completely kid free.

Move to San Myshuno, working from a small apartment up to a penthouse

Reach level ten in either the Business or Politician careers (you can pick which branch)

Take any career opportunities the game offers you

Only after you reach the top of your career can you look for a serious relationship (you can have one night hook ups here and there if you wish, just nothing serious)

The only way you can intentionally boost fun is by listening to the radio or watching the television

Have a child with your spouse once you complete your aspiration (this should be into adulthood, the older you are the better)

Only have one child building a strong relationship with them and spoiling them rotten

If you or your spouse dies of old age, the respective partner should also die in some manner shortly after (to set up for the next gen)

Generation three: All on my Own?

snobby, [your choice] , [your choice]

start with whatever aspiration you think fits, but change it to and complete the Friend of The Animals aspiration

With the sudden passing of both your parents, you have no idea what do with yourself and how to live on your own. In a rash decision, you sell the penthouse and all it’s belongings. You blow through all this money quite quickly on drinks and gambling until you have barely enough money to move out to a small house on the coast (you will probably need to cheat this, just cheat it down to 20,000). There you try to find yourself and make a life for your new normal. After job after job, you notice the amount of strays in the area, which inspires you to open a small family clinic

Do as the description above says, only starting once both of your parents are dead

Move to Brindleton Bay

“Try” (you can just work at them for a couple days) three different jobs before deciding to open a small vet clinic

adopt at least five animals over the course of your life

You can meet your spouse wherever (perhaps the clinic) and have 2 children with them

Take your children on trips to different parks, museums, etc., every week

Max the pet training and veterinary skills

Generation four: The Nuclear Family

athletic, paranoid, [your choice]

strangerville mystery aspiration and successful lineage aspiration 

Your parents always encouraged you to pursue what you wanted, but also encouraged economic conscious and independence. Not sure what you want to do, you enlist in the army and move to StrangerVille, trying to figure out what you want, but as your there, you get enveloped into what’s going on

As a teen, have a part time job

move into the trailer park in StrangerVille

Enlist in the Military

Complete the StrangerVille Mystery aspiration

After finally taking down The Mother, you are finally able to decipher what you wanted, a Writer. You leave your position in the military and pick up a job at the local paper (the writer career), where you tell your stories of your adventures and other strange happenings in Strangerville. At the paper, you meet your spouse and settle down to have a few children with them. But still feeling unsatisfied, you find solace in a stranger at a bar and do things very questionable as a married sim.

Move to the Suburbs of StrangerVille

Become a writer and choose the Journalism path

Meet your spouse at work

Have 3 children (preferably at least one boy and one girl)

Cheat on your spouse with someone you meet at the bar (this can be a one time thing or a continuous theme)

Complete the Successful Lineage Aspiration

Max the Writing Skill

Generation five:  Reduce, Reuse, Recycle

green fiend, perfectionist, [your choice]

Eco Innovator Aspiration 

Sensing something was always off in your parents marriage, you wanted everything else in life to be perfectly in your control to balance it out. One of the biggest problems that seemed to be out of your control however, was the environment and the negative impacts of it, until you learned about a little town on the coast, Evergreen Harbor. There people of your similar mind lived and coexisted, working on creating a community of a better environment. So, soon after your eighteenth birthday, you pack your bags and move. 

Move to Evergreen Harbor

Always live in a tiny home, the smaller, the better

Grow a garden of at least ten different plants

Go into the Civil Designer Career, specifically the Green Technician Branch (you can also choose the conservationist career, just cheat the aspiration go

Concerned about their environmental impacts, have only one child, you can either by adopt or a have a one night stand resulting in a child ( you can be in contact and be in a relationship with the child’s parent, but they should not live with you) 

Have at least fifteen renewable energy sources

Make your neighborhood (and maybe others!) the cleanest it can be

Generation six:  Paintings of Cityscapes

creative, loves the outdoors, [your choice]

 pick painter extraordinaire aspiration, but also complete “friend of the world” along the way

Growing up with a single parent, your life was a little interesting, but never dim or unloved. Growing up in Evergreen Harbor gave you access to many interesting and cool people who shaped your view of the world and it’s beauty (Rory and Lorelai Gilmore type vibe ig?). Interested in broadening your world view, you move yourself all the way to the big city to pursue a career in arts. There you meet all sorts of people 

Move to San Myshuno, try moving into the smallest apartment possible, make it into a studio/loft and live there for as long as possible

Meet all your friends at art galleries and karaoke bars

go to as many festivals as possible, trying to paint and photograph them as much as possible

Max the Charisma and Painting skills

Never to boggled to settle down, have at least two children to at least two different people, preferably “casual” friends

Never live in an apartment bigger than what you need in the name of being unique (basically no mega big apartments and penthouses)

Marry as a elder to your highest romantic partner

Take your kids on trips to art galleries and such every week

You should have an extra stock pile of money, don’t spend it on stuff you don’t need

Generation seven:  A Higher Degree

genius, [your choice], [your choice]

Academic aspiration and then whichever aspiration you think fits

Living with your eccentric parent in a tiny apartment with your siblings, at times, felt quite odd and claustrophobic, but your parent always introduced you to new people and new places that widened the lens of what you could do in your life. With the help of your parent, who put away any extra dollar they could so that you and your siblings could to go to college and pursue your passion, you apply for university and move into the dorms. 

Go to University and get a degree in Psychology, History, or Literature and Language

Join at least one student organization

Meet your spouse while in university (they can be attending or you just meet them somewhere on campus)

Have a big graduation party with all your friends and classmates

Marry your partner soon after graduation

Pursue a career related to your major

Max your Logic and Research & Debate skills

I will add  more to this as I get here 

[kuratoki]

Changes 01

I got into NCT Dream recently (cause i saw their cover of BOA’s No.1) and safe to say that they stole my heart? Jeno the big puppy especially which inspired me to write this series :) This was the absolute last day I could post this...why? Cause I’ve already written half the story and in order for me to post Jeno’s birthday chapter in time, it had to be posted today! 

Do you agree that things change in time? Well four years abroad would tell wouldn’t it? 

Pairing: Reader x Jeno ft. NCT

Words: 5931

Warning: None in this chapter

1 - 2 - 3

It was the start of the new school year and after a long conversation with your mentors at a prestigious ballet academy in Europe, you made the choice to move home. During the school year, you were a ballet dancer and one of the top juniors at the academy and when summer came, you attended dance camps to pursue your interest in other styles. 

After talking to your family about your wishes and receiving their full support, you spoke to your Dean about leaving and he recommended SM Arts Academy. It was the best dance academy in Asia and you could only attend through an audition or  a letter of recommendation which he said he’d be happy to write. After packing up, you found yourself back on Korean soil and preparing for your first day at SMAA.

“We’re really happy to have you here Y/N, the Dean at your Ballet Academy has only said the best things about you.” Mr. Lee, the Dean of SMAA (SM Arts Academy) said as the two sat in his office.

 “We’ve organized a guide for you that should be here shortly and he can help you get situated.” 

“Thank you sir.” you said with a slight bow, just as a knock on the door came.

“You wanted to see me Mr. Lee?” the voice asked and your eyebrows furrowed trying to figure out where you heard it before.

“Perfect timing Jaemin” The Dean said and your eyes widened, “Y/N, I’d like to introduce you to Na Jaemin, he will be your guide for the semester. Jaemin, this is Y/N, she just transferred over from an Academy in Europe and will be joining us from now on.”

The two of you stared at each other and Jaemin extended his hand, “It’s nice to meet you Y/N.” 

“You too.” you said as you shook his hand, wondering if he remembered you. 

“I’ll let you two get on your way and welcome again Y/N '' Mr. Lee said as he led you out of the office once he told Jaemin what was expected from him.

“Thank you sir.” the two of you said before Jaemin turned to look at you.

“I’ll show you your locker first and then we’ll head to class.” he said and you nodded, following him down the hall.

Once everything was settled, he told you to wait outside while he went in to talk to the instructor and once you heard your name called, you entered the studio and bowed to everyone before introducing yourself and sat next to Jaemin.

“Do you know a Hana by chance?” Jaemin asked out of the blue once class was over and you turned to look at him.

 “Kim Hana?” you asked and Jaemin nodded, “Wait you’re the Jaemin she’s dating?” 

“Ah,so it is you!” Jaemin said grinning “You went to the Incheon Dance Academy right? I heard you were accepted into the ballet program in Europe a few years back and thats why you stopped coming to classes.”

“Yea, the offer came before we were supposed to start classes again so I had to leave right away. How did you know I was accepted into the program?” you asked curiously as you followed him to the door.

“Jeno’s mom ran into your mom at the supermarket about a month after you left and asked why you weren’t in classes anymore and then she told Jeno.” Jaemin answered before asking curiously, “Why didn’t you tell anyone you were leaving? Jeno was in such a mood the day he came and told me the news.” 

“Things started changing and I felt like I was going down a different path” you said, biting your lip nervously before your eyes widened, “Wait Jeno’s here?” 

“He was literally sitting behind us in class.” Jaemin stated looking down at you confused, “Have the first day jitters got you that bad?” 

Before you could form an answer, you were suddenly tackled from the back and the giggle you heard was all too familiar.

“Ah! You’re finally here!” Hana said as the two of you hugged before she pulled away and waved to someone behind you, “Jisung!!”

“What about the boyfriend?” Jaemin asked in complete shock from being ignored as Jisung joined your group, slightly out of breath since he ran to catch up with you and Jaemin.

“I’ve always liked Y/N better than you.” Hana said, looking at her boyfriend innocently while still clinging to your arm, making Jaemin scoff.

“I totally forgot you were transferring.” Jisung said scratching the back of his head nervously, after giving you a hug, “When I saw you in class in today I was like wait…” 

“I totally didn’t see you.” you admitted sheepishly and Jisung shrugged, just happy that you were all together again, “I literally just got back yesterday so I’m kind of jet lagged.” 

“All that matters is that the three of us are together once again.” Hana said grinning, “There's two spots left in third period A. Contemporary and we find out who gets in today. So fingers crossed.” 

“What do you have next?” Jisung asked as you looked down at your schedule.’

“Music theory.” you said and Jaemin frowned.

“They make me your guide but they couldn’t give us anything close to the same schedule.” he said and looked at his timetable, “That’s in the opposite direction I’m headed in too.” 

“I have music theory next.” Jisung said comparing your schedules, “We also have advanced contemporary next period but we don’t have English which is last period.” 

“That’s perfect, Jeno and I have English last period so we can meet you guys outside of the dance studio after third period.” Jaemin said, “Do you mind showing her around for a bit? I’m gonna meet up with Jeno and run to next period.”

“I’ll see you guys at lunch.” Hana said as she got ready to leave since she had a different class than everyone else, “Let’s hang out after school today kay?” 

“Oh, let’s go get our after camp special as a reunion meal.” Jisung suggested, his mouth watering at the thought of Korean BBQ, “No boyfriends allowed, sorry Jae.” 

“I’m in.” you said as Hana nodded.

“We’ll meet at the front of the school after last period.” she said and gave Jaemin a quick kiss before leaving for class.

“We should get going too.” Jisung said, “The teacher hates it when we’re late.” 

“See you guys at lunch.” Jaemin said waving as the two of you disappeared down the hall. 

He turned around when someone put their hand on his shoulder and grinned when he saw his best friend Lee Jeno.

“Sorry it took so long, the instructor was telling me that I got transferred to a different third period class.” he apologized, “Was that who I think it was?” 

“Yep.” Jaemin answered, “She just left with Jisung for second period.” 

“I heard that she’s been abroad for a while” Jeno said thoughtfully, thinking about the last time he heard about you.

“Apparently she transferred back. Why don’t we ask Hana at lunch? Apparently they know each other from some dance camp..” Jaemin suggested, “Anyways, want to hang out after school? Hana and Jisung are taking Y/N out for dinner and it’s a no boyfriend allowed situation.”

“And you’re actually going to listen to her?” Jeno asked, looking at his friend with raised eyebrows, wondering how Jisung played into this.

“Heck no, we’re going to let them catch up and them “meet” them after their meal.” Jaemin said casually, “So you in?”

“Sure why not.” Jeno shrugged and let his mind drift once the two started walking to their next class. 

The last time he saw you was close to four years ago right before summer ended and you were set to return to the academy. Despite what Jaemin may have thought, you and Jeno were a lot closer than you let on and that was because throughout your whole lives, you grew up as neighbors, classmates and best friends. 

Jaemin and Jeno were all contemporary dancers and focused on all aspects of dance while at the time, you were just focused on ballet. It wasn’t that you weren’t interested in other styles, no. It was your mothers dream to dance with a national ballet company and she wanted to pass that dream on to you so you had been taking ballet lessons for almost your whole life in order to please her.

Over the years you and Jeno would sneak out from time to time to a spot in your neighborhood that you called your spot which overlooked the city. It was the place where the two of you could forget about dance for a while and just be the children you were. You discovered it after an argument with your parents went wrong and you ran out of the house. Jeno had seen you bolt out your front door and since it was already dark, he quickly went after you and by the time you stopped, you were at the top of a hill behind some apartments.

That was the first time he remembered hugging you. The two of you stayed there for a few hours just talking, the two of you sitting side by side with his arm wrapped around your shoulder where you occasionally rested your head before he walked you home. He remembered you kissing him on the cheek and thanking him for being there.

He knew then that his feelings changed for you from something completely platonic to something more.  At the time he was young and didn’t know how to deal with them and was crushed when he found out you transferred out without telling anyone. After that he started freezing people around him out and focussed on his dance only. It was his hard work that got him accepted into SM Arts School and he recently wondered what it would be like to see you again. 

When he saw you in class, it was obvious that you had changed a lot. You were more beautiful than he last saw you and the air of maturity surrounded you. Throughout the class, he tried his hardest to focus on the routine but there were times where he caught himself thinking how much you’ve improved over the years.

“What did you switch your third period class to?” Jaemin asked, knocking Jeno out of his thoughts.

“Advanced Contemporary.” he answered as he saw Jaemin’s eyes light up, “I think Hana got in too but she won’t be starting till tomorrow.” 

“Y/N and Jisung both have that class too. You can walk her to English after and catch up.” he said excitedly, “That way I don’t have to rush from my third period class to get her.” 

“Why would you have to get her?” Jeno asked weirdly.

“I’m her guide for the semester but we only have two classes together.  Turn’s out she and Jisung are actually good friends and have the next two periods together.” 

“She and Jisung?” Jeno asked and Jaemin shrugged.

“Hana seemed happy that the three of them were together again or whatever so they all must’ve met at the same camp.” he said once they got to class and Jeno spent the remainder of the period thinking about your return and barely paying any attention to the class.

When second period ended, you were surprised to see Hana waiting outside your classroom when you and Jisung walked out. 

“I’ll catch up with you guys in the lunchroom.” he said with a quick wave as he rushed down the hall leaving you to look at him with confusion.

“What the?” you asked looking at Hana who grinned before looping her arm through yours.

“It’s a surprise. We have to go too.” she said giggling as you walked towards your locker.

As the two of you walked towards the lunch room, you could hear loud music blaring and saw students standing in a circle.

Hana, who still had a grip on your arm pulled you toward the front and that’s where you saw Jaemin, Jeno and Jisung knelt down before the song changed and the trio started dancing, causing cheers to erupt from the crowd.

“Perfect timing.” Hana said watching the boys with a large smile as Jaemin smirked at the crowed and Jeno yelled out.

“Lets go!”

“What is this?” you asked her curiously as your eyes remained fixated on three boys, specifically one in particular.

“The boys are part of this large dance crew that have students from other departments. It's like a dance club but not exclusive to just dance majors. Jaemin says that theres a rep for each department so you could imagine how big this club actually is. This year, the three of them were asked to open the school year.” Hana explained, “This was the dance Jisung was practicing throughout the summer, can you tell?”

You nodded your head watching your friend in his element. He had this cool swag style in his dancing, a style that was almost the complete opposite from his persona which was more shy and reserved. You then turned to Jeno and saw the power and passion he put into each move and you heard yourself gasp.

“When did Jeno turn into a man?” you asked yourself though Hana heard it and nudged you. 

“Jeno?” she asked, “How do you know Jeno?”

“We were neighbors growing up and went to the same dance academy. Remember the first summer we met and I said I was trying to get over someone?” you asked quietly, so quietly that Hana had to lean in to hear you.

“Wait, it was THAT Jeno? Like my boyfriends best friend?” she asked, turning to you wide eyed and you nodded though your eyes continued to admire Jenos precise movements.

“He’s one of the nicest guys I know, how could someone like that break your heart?” she asked with a small pout, “Jaemin did tell me that Jeno’s refused to date since someone he cared about left him…were the two of you closer than you lead on?”

You nodded again, surprised from Hana’s information. Jeno had been one of the popular students at your old dance academy and you considered yourself lucky to even be around him. Girls were always using you to get close to him and it got to a point where you had to seperate yourself from everything to focus on ballet. You had never been one for the in crowd but being friends with Lee Jeno changed that. 

You remembered telling him that you always wanted to go to Europe to pursue ballet while he always thought that the three of you, including Jaemin would apply and take over SMAA. That was before Hyolin, a girl from another town transferred to your academy and unfortunately, she set her eyes on Jeno right away.

As time went by, you saw him less and less. Hyolin didn’t like you since Jeno still insisted on walking home with you after classes were over or he’d wait for you to finish ballet practice so you could grab a meal before heading home. She started saying mean things to you, how she was just friends with you to get closer to Jaemin and Jeno. You knew all this already which was why it was so much easier to focus on your ballet instead of worrying what the two boys thought.

But it was those nights you spent at “your spot” that you cherished and left thoughts of school behind you. You went to the spot everytime you needed to think. It was the spot where you had to make a decision, regardless of the consequences, you had to do it for yourself.

The day you got your acceptance letter was the happiest but also heartbreaking day of your life. You were supposed to meet Jeno and Jaemin for your weekly movie night that Jaemin organized with a few of your friends. Jeno had asked you to meet him earlier in the evening so you could go to Jaemins together since he wanted too spend time with you before your friends took all your attention. 

What you didn’t expect was to leave your house only to see Jeno and Hyolin lip locked in the alleyway between your houses. You couldn’t remember what you felt that day but you just remembered suddenly cancelling on the movie night saying that you weren’t feeling well before contacting your new school to accept their offer. It was convenient that classes started within the week so you were set to leave within the next three days.”

Jeno did come by that night and called you on multiple occasions to see what was up since you never showed up when you were supposed to meet but it took him a whole month after that to find out that you left without telling anyone. Since he didn’t know you saw what happened, he was more confused than ever.

You spent your first year at your new school forgetting everything and everyone back home. Hyolin was beautiful and kind so you could see why Jeno would like someone like her. It hurt that he never told you about it but maybe it was something that he was keeping to himself. You two were just friends after all and it wasn’t like when you were growing up where you would tell the other everything. 

After your first year abroad, you came back to Korea for a dance camp that one of your instructors suggested you attend in order to broaden your horizons and that was how you met Jisung and Hana. You had met Hana during orientation and the two of you were in the same activity group as Jisung and that was how you got close. Jisung helped you open your eyes to other styles of dance and it was because of him that your heart from your previous heart break healed. But unlike Hana, Jisung had no idea that you knew Jeno or Jaemin, his two best friends from school at the time. 

The fade out of the music was what brought you back to your senses and when you looked up, you saw Jeno looking at you from his ending pose before the crowd around you cheered for the three boys. Juniors were looking at them with admiration while girls gave heart eyes and many started approaching the group, asking to have lunch with them.

Jisung was the first to break away once he saw you and Hana waiting on the sidelines and you quickly pushed your thoughts of Jeno aside once he approached the two of you.

“Dude that was so cool!” you said excitedly high fiving your best friend, “So that was the choreo you were practicing during our free time.” 

“Did you like it?” he asked clearly out of breath as he grabbed a water bottle from his bag,  I made some tweaks from what you saw a few weeks back but the whole routine was choreographed by the three of us.” 

“I expected nothing less from our top contemporary dancer.” you said with a grin, “The whole thing was so powerful.” 

“Thanks Y/N” Jaemin said as he and Jeno approached the group and he wrapped his arms around Hana, “You remember Jeno right?” he motioned to the boy who was much more muscular from the last time the two of you had seen each other. 

“Of course. He was the top dancer at IDA” you said giving him a small smile and wave, “It’s been a long time.” 

Jeno stared at you for a few moments, surprised that you were acting completely normal but at the same time, he didn’t know what to expect. 

“It has.” he said with a nod,trying to act as normal as he could, “I heard you were in Europe for the last few years. How was the program?”

“Exhausting but thrilling.” you answered, smiling as you reminisced about the classes and workshops you once took, “Like, it was a good experience but I figured that if I wanted to take dance more seriously, I couldn’t focus on only one style.” 

“Which is why you transferred over right?” Jaemin asked as you nodded.

“Also because she couldn’t be apart from Jisung and I much longer.” Hana added with a smile, “We tried to convince her to transfer after our second year at camp but it took an extra two for her to actually make a decision.” 

“It was a four year program.” you said in defense, “I wanted to finish it before I started something else. You and Jisung were just bonuses.” 

“So you’re officially done then?” Jaemin asked and you nodded again.

“I could’ve continued with the advanced classes but after talking to my mentors and these two, we came to the conclusion that as much as ballet will always have my heart, my interest in dance in general kind of took over.” you answered.

“We should show them some of the routines that we worked on this past summer.” Hana said once the group was situated with their meals outside in the courtyard “Better yet, you and Jisung should show them the piece that won you the Dance All Star Award this past summer.” 

“I don’t want to get dropped on my head again though.” you stated as Jaemin and Jeno’s eyes widened while Jisung quickly defended himself.

“It was ONE time!!” he said quickly, waving his hands in front of himself as the other two boys only stared at him, “And we aced the flip at the competition!”

“One time in three years is more than enough to not want to get flipped again.” you said with a nod, taking a bite of your meal. 

“Jisung actually dropped Y/N?” Jaemin asked in shock as Hana nodded, “What happened?” 

“It wasn’t that serious.” Jisung said as he stood up to mimic what happened, “She had to run to me from across the dance floor and I was supposed to pick her up so she could flip over my shoulder” he did a tossing motion with his arms, “But she miscalculated her steps and I got the timing wrong so when I grabbed her, my arms gave way and she landed on her face.” 

“He was so lucky we were late into the summer or else I would’ve asked for a different dance partner.” you added, “But to be fair, that was some advanced shit we were doing. Even the judges said the same thing at the end of summer show.” 

“They also said that you probably trusted Jisung enough to continue on as his partner. Even though he was responsible for the bruise on your cheek.” Hana said with a slight giggle, “Oh you guys should’ve seen Jisungs face when he realized what happened.”

“Let’s not.” Jisung said with a sigh sitting down again and buried his head into your shoulder, “I was half asleep and said I was sorry.” he groaned.

“You also promised me three meals which I have every intention on cashing in since I’m here.” you said patting his head, “Starting with our first meal after classes.” 

“Fair enough.” he said before sitting up straight again and letting out a content sigh, “If you had asked for another partner, that would’ve broken our three year streak.” 

“Which was one of the reasons why I didn’t.” you retorted, “The instructors paired us off into our duos so there must’ve been a reason why we were always together.” 

“Who was Hana’s partner?” Jaemin curiously asked, wanting to know more about your camp life. He looked at Jeno for a quick moment only to see him staring at Jisungs hand that rested on your thigh and you obviously didn’t mind. He made note to ask him about it later but for now, it seemed that you were the only person Jisung and Jeno had their eyes on. 

‘Oh this year is going to be interesting.’ he thought to himself looking between his two best friends and only hoped no one would get hurt in the process.

“She got put with a new one every year.” you said giggling at a memory, “They were all scared of her.” 

“I wasn’t that bad!!” Hana argued, “Everyone had different partners every year and it was only you and Jisung that were allowed to stay together.”

“A true duo indeed.” Jisung said with a grin, “But it was also knowledge that Hana had a boyfriend so no one tried anything with her. Y/N made sure of that.” 

“No one touches my girl who has a mans.” you said waving your finger.

“Thanks for that.” Jaemin said with a grin as he wrapped his arm around Hana, “Can you believe how small the world is? Y/N went to Incheon Dance Academy with Jeno and I and then she met you guys and now we’re all friends.” 

“That is weird.” you admitted, “I never expected to actually transfer over either. When I was packing my apartment back in Europe, it felt so weird. Like a final goodbye to my past.” 

“Where are you staying now?” Jaemin asked curiously.

“My parents rented their place a while back to a close family friend before they moved to America. He was cool with me moving back in since he’s back and forth between here and China right now. I think he also attends the academy...uhm...Dong Sicheng?” you said as everyone tried to think of the name.

“Oh.” Jaemin said, sticking his finger up once it hit him.

“WinWin!” the three boys said consecutively.

“Wasn’t he our camp counsellor?” Hana asked and Jisung nodded his head remembering, “He was the one that kept bugging Y/N during rehearsals.”

“Then Y/N accidently pushed him off the dock.” Jisung said, “How did you two become friends?” 

“Our parents are good friends from uni or whatever and we met from time to time. But we kept in contact throughout the years. When I told him I was accepted, he suggested I move back to my old room since he didn’t really change anything.” you explained, “before that he would constantly tease me cause my toes were always pointed from my ballet training and thats why I “accidently kicked” him off the dock.” 

“That’s right...WinWin is back in China right now.” Jeno said, “I never thought your parents would approve of you living with a boy so soon” he chuckled, “Also, that means you’re back at your old house right?”

“He’s like the older brother I never had and he stayed at my apartment when he visited Europe that one time.” 

“Wow, I actually didn’t realize you guys were so close.” Jisung said thoughtfully, “Did you know Hana?” 

“Of course I did.” Hana said giggling, “I went with him when he went to Europe so I could visit Y/N. We had a blast didn’t we?” 

“Best winter break of my life.” you agreed thinking about two years ago.

For the rest of the lunch period, Jaemin and Jeno, who had become more comfortable as time went on continued to ask the three of you about your camp life and you, Jisung and Hana did your best to answer.

When third period rolled around, you, Jisung and Jeno all walked together towards the dance studios again.

“They’re going to ask you to give a snippet of what you know already since this class is technically referral only.” Jisung warned once you were changed into your dance clothes.

You were currently sitting on the floor between Jeno and Jisung, stretching as you waited for the instructor.

“What do they want to see?” you asked curiously, going into a split.

“Anything really...they just want to see that you’re actually meant for this class. The fact that you’re already in it without being here prior says something. But the student’s in this class are a lot more...dedicated... “ Jisung explained.

“Stuck up.” Jeno said coughing quickly and you raised your eyebrow.

“You can do one of the routines we learned at camp.” Jisung suggested, “Or I could talk to the instructor about doing a snippet of our duo.” 

“I told you I didn’t want to get dropped on the head again.” you mumbled and Jisung chuckled. 

“Trust me.” he said as he saw the instructor approach and doing what Jaemin did earlier, introduced you before you were asked to perform a piece. 

You could the student’s eyes of judgement and Jeno was right, most of them did seem stuck up. This one girl in particular looked like she was glaring daggers at you while one of the guys seemed to be giving you the once over.

“Do you have the music you want to dance to?” the instructor asked as you thought quickly but before you could say anything, Jisung had already gotten up to hand his phone over to be plugged into the sound system and soon a familiar melody filled the room.

You looked at Jisung who gave you a thumbs up while Jeno watched curiously. The song to him was familiar but from what he remembered was not your style. Shaking his head, he reminded himself that you weren’t the same person you were a few years ago and that things probably changed with time.

As the song continued, you found your body moving on its own eventually, you closed your eyes and let yourself get lost in the music. 

The students watched in amazement as you incorporated various styles into the piece and Jeno was one of the few who saw the passion in every move you made. He knew that you were a great dancer but it was only now he saw how much you improved from your ballet days.

The way you flew across the floor or how your toes pointed perfectly when you did a twirl, your body was telling a story and it wasn’t till the end of the song that he realized that it was a song of heartbreak. When the song was over and your ending position was you crumpled to the floor, the class erupted in applause minus a few people and the teacher gave you an approving smile. 

“I love the mix of ballet and hip hop.” he said, giving you a high five as you bowed deeply, “Plus the story...amazing. You can take a seat now.” 

When you went back to sit between Jeno and Jaemin, both boys gave you thumbs up and Jisung leaned over to whisper to you.

“Have you been practicing? Cause I swore I thought you were actually going to cry.” 

“It just came so naturally.” you whispered back, “Thanks for helping me choose the song though. I totally forgot about it.” 

“I got your back.” he winked at you before turning back to the instructor to listen to the same thing everyone had to listen to on the first day.

What went unnoticed by the two of you were the looks of uneasiness from Jeno. He felt uncomfortable that you and Jisung were so close and he tried not to be bothered by all the skinship he shared with you during lunch or all the inside jokes you two seemed to have. Once upon a time all, the two of you were in that position but suddenly you left and cut off all contact. Now you were back and as much as he wanted to have another chance with you, he felt that Jisungs feelings for you weren’t as platonic as he used to think. 

Jaemin, Jeno and Jisung all entered SMAA around the same time and became close friends quickly. During the summer, Jeno and Jaemin went home and spent time with their family while Jisung was sent off to a dance camp where he met you and Hana.

Jeno remembered the conversations that Jisung would have with him and Jaemin over the phone. About a girl he met that was a fantastic ballet dancer but was also naturally talented in all other forms of dance. Someone he made open up through dance and became his outside of school best friend. When asked if they kept in contact throughout the school year, Jisung just said that time differences were hard but you messaged each other when either of you had the time.

That girl was you and the time difference was between Korea and Europe. It all made sense to him now. Hana always talked about a Y/N, the one who kept her sane during camp since Jisung was always trying so hard to show off. She talked about how she and Jisung were trying to convince you to transfer to SMAA where her talents would be better appreciated. A part of him felt stupid since he didn’t put the puzzle pieces together sooner but ever since you left, all he focussed on was his dance. 

Once third period was over, Jeno waited for you outside the girls change room. The two of you were able to talk more throughout the class when your instructor conveniently placed the three of you in a group. He was surprised to hear how much Jisung really knew about you and spent most of the time observing how the two of you acted around each other instead of really paying attention to the routine you were supposed to work on. 

He wondered if Jisung knew about the two of you, the past that you kept so well hidden from Jaemin and all your friends. Even though the two boys had been best friends since day 1 of SMAA, they never dived into each other’s pasts cause that’s what it was, the past but you were also a part of Jeno’s past and Jisung’s present. 

Jeno shook out of his thoughts when he heard the door to the change room open and looked up to see you in a fresh school uniform and hair tied back in a neat ponytail, looking at him curiously. To him, it was as if an angel had come down and graced him with their presence and he couldn’t help but smile, making a blush creep up your cheeks.

“Is there something on my face?” you asked curiously, taking out your compact when you noticed Jeno staring and he grabbed your wrist, shaking his head quickly.

“NO!” he stuttered when your eyes widened, “I mean no, you look great.” he mumbled looking away shyly making you giggle.

“It’s good to see somethings about you never change.” you said softly, though it reached Jeno’s ears and he looked at you, a blush semi-forming on his cheeks.

Before he could say anything, Jisung had come out of the change room and attached himself to your side once more.

“Let’s all walk to last period together.” he said grinning, “it’s on the way to mine.” 

“Sure.” you said following your friend quickly so you wouldn’t be late and also completely forgetting that Jeno had the same class as you. 

Jeno stared at your two figures for a few seconds before he realized that he should catch up. What stopped him was when Jisung turned around and raised his eyebrows before giving him a small smirk. He then turned back and paid attention to you when you started talking about something but the look is Jisung’s eyes remained in Jeno’s mind for the remainder of the period and left him confused.

[thelucyverse]

Suburbs fic idea - Andromaquynh/2 (1)

Her first welcome committee arrives as Quỳnh is just about to finish moving the furniture in the kitchen where it belongs. Next would be the living room, but in the middle of it is still an antique wardrobe that is meant for her upstairs bedroom, and it is too bulky and heavy for her to carry up the stairs on her own. The previous owners had left it behind, and Quỳnh loves the sight of the dark hardwood doors already, but she'll need help to relocate it - well, if anything that's a good reason for her to be friendly to the neighbours. She's sure at least one of them will be willing and able to help. One already offered, even, when she was carrying things inside from the xxtruck- she had declined xxly, not wanting anyone to mess up her things, or spill the contents of a more dangerous carton. For the wardrobe, though... Well, it will have to wait now.

For the moment, she sits down on the kitchen counter with a bottle of cold lemonade - getting her minufridge running first thing had been the best idea she ever had - and enjoys a moment of peace.

It doesn't last long.

The doorbell rings, and with a sigh Quynh hops down from the counter, careful not to spill any of the lemonade. She briefly contemplates putting on something prettier to wear, one of her blazers perhaps or some jewellery to make a good first impression, but then she just makes her way to the front door. Whoever is there has no doubt already seen her move things all morning, even if it isn't the man who offered to help or the woman who had xxwaved from the window.

It is the woman from the house opposite hers, after all - Celeste, she says to call her, the "inofficial spokesperson of the street, though not so inofficial anymore after they tried to have me elected during the last garden party", as she introduces herself.

"Well, it's wonderful to meet you, Celeste," Quỳnh tells her with a bright smile and takes her hand. "My name is Ngô Thanh Quỳnh, please call my Quỳnh as it is my given name.

"Nice to meet you, Quỳnh," Celeste smiles, and then she slides her bag from her shoulder and pulls out a large box of salad. "I wasn't sure whether you had anything to eat, it must be a hassle going grocery shopping on top of moving, so... I hope you don't have any allergies? I figured a salad was safest either way..."

"It's wonderful, thank you," Quỳnh smiles, accepting the salad. "The only allergy I'm aware of is to walnuts, so as long as there aren't any of those in there..."

Celeste laughs. "No, there aren't! Although you should be careful at the Freemans' parties then, they have a wonderful big walnut tree, and Mrs. Freeman tends to put them in everything. She lives there in the house next to her daughter's, who moved here first and bought her neighbour's house for her mother when- well, you'll meet them both soon enough, Nile and her wife Jay are about our age."

"I'm sure I will," Quỳnh smiles. "Now, I best put this in the fridge... Do you want to come in?"

"If you don't mind?"

~~~

"Is that you?" Celeste asks, pointing to the large photo print on canvas leaning against the wall, showing two women embracing in the desert.

"No, a photographer friend of mine gave it to me," Quỳnh replies, thinking back to Lykon and his side hustle of smuggling documents with a smile. "Well, an acquaintance, really- though I guess he counts as a friend by your definition. I just like the picture."

"By my definition?"

"I would just use the word acquaintance instead, you see? But I've found that Americans say 'friend' much more often than I am used to, I just say it for what you might call best friends, everyone else I call friendly acquaintances."

"Ah," Celeste smiles, then tilts her head. "Do neighbors fall into the category of acquaintances?"

Quỳnh shrugs.

"Friendships can happen there too, of course, but honestly I'd take even longer to switch the terms there - you're neighbors first and foremost, you have to live in the same area, that's a category all on its own, isn't it? But maybe we can be friends in the future." she says it with a twinkle in her eyes to make sure Celeste won't be offended.

"Just maybe?" Celeste replies with a smile in turn.

"Well, I barely know you, I don't know whether maybe you're all bigots or something around here," Quỳnh replies with a grin to soften the blow. "I don't know you very well yet, after all- though from what you told me about the other neighbours earlier, I at least won't have to worry about too extreme homophobia, if a lesbian marriage is tolerated?"

"Oh, don't worry about that! We're an inclusive bunch, or trying to be. You won't have to worry about racism, or-" she nods at the photograph, "it's not just you Nile and Jay, either- I might be married to a man, but I'm bisexual, and we have a bunch of gay men as well... I suppose once an inclusive community like this exists, it attracts more of the same! We also have people of several different religions, So, you don't have to worry about that either, being a witch-"

"I'm not a witch," Quỳnh replies, a little perplexed.

"Oh, I just saw the crystals on the mantle, and the pentagram on your shirt... Sorry, I shouldn't have assumed," Celeste explains.

"Oh, this is a band shirt! And for the crystals, I just think they're pretty, no idea about any healing powers. I'm a bit of a magpie, if anything, a hoarder of shiny things..."

"Oh, you'll have to meet Booker then! He's an accountant, but he learned to do jewellery for his late wife, and he still does a lot of it now in his freetime- his neighbor and best friend Nicky is also gay by the way - not that I think you have to be best friends with all the gay people, of course! Just that well, you're here alone... And as far as I'm aware, he knows everyone in the gay community, he might be able to introduce you to some ladies in nearby neighborhoods, I don't think Nile or Jay would be much help there, they mostly stick to themselves."

"Oh, I'm not really looking to date anyone right now," Quỳnh replies a little awkwardly. "Not that I'd not like a girlfriend, but I need too much alone time for most people to handle, especially I think those in the suburbs aren't usually looking for a casual relationship like that, where the end goal isn't to move in together and constantly hang out..."

As she says this, Quỳnh notices a certain... /glint/ in Celeste's eyes. What - does the other woman want to prove her wrong? Well, if she wants to meddle, thinking she has someone in the area that might be interested in Quỳnh's way of life, that doesn't mean Quỳnh will have to act on it. And if maybe, just maybe... No, she shouldn't hope for a relationship on a hunch of someone maybe wanting to play matchmaker. She not just doesn't enjoy being around people 24/7, she also has a lot of secrets to keep, and she doesn't really plan to live here permanently, either.

"You're not much of a people person?" Celeste slightly changes the topic. "You seemed so extroverted just now."

"No, I do need my me time," (true), "So I guess you could say I'm not much of a 'people person'" (at least, she never learned to hang out with normal people), "...but I'm sure we will all get on fine. - I hope you don't mind if I don't always join all activities, it wouldn't be anything against you, I just don't always have the energy for that kind of thing." she much prefers the anonymity of the city for the same reason, where she can go out and meet someone when she feels like it, and stay in and ignore the world otherwise. If anyone asks, she'll say that she's a bit burned out and got recommended a small town to relax - what they don't need to know is that she is indeed quite burnt out from assassin's jobs, that she wanted to do one more big hit to get enough money to quit, but the job was so nasty, she instead killed her employer, a gang leader, and stole his money and organization paperwork instead of doing the assigned job - and is now lying low in case the rest of that organization is now looking for her. Same result, really, except she would have preferred to spend her retirement somewhere other than a suburban picket fence house.

"Alright... I guess maybe we should leave early then, leave you some energy to meet the rest?" Celeste asks.

"No, no, don't mind me, I can survive a day of welcomes, I just meant in general, for the future... Wait, is really everyone going to come today?" (goodness, those people are insane, they consider stopping someone from fixing their house for an entire day a friendly welcoming? Sounds more like slow psychological torture)

"I can text and ask whether some can come tomorrow or the weekend, if you'd like? Not that we have, like, a neighborhood groupchat, just several inofficial friendgroup chats, all friends here - well. By the american definition, I suppose, but most of us do meet up from time to time for more than just neighborhood friendlyness." Celeste offers.

"No, no, it's fine," (at least it will all be over quickly then), "and do you know anyone who could help me carry the old wardrobe upstairs? It's still standing in the living room now"

"Sure! Nile might be strong enough, or Nicky maybe, or if we try it in a group?"

"Sounds wonderful," Quỳnh replies, mentally going through the damage created by several people she doesn't trust carrying a large wardrobe up the stairs. Does she have any paint in case they hit the wall in places? She just hopes the wardrobe itself will survive. "I'm sure we'll all get on wonderful, if they're as nice as you are!" she adds with he bicest honeypot charm smile, mentally sending Now Please Go Away I Still Have So Many Things To Do.

[astra-inclined]

Hello ANBU Legacy Fans! I made a playlist for ANBU Legacy. I’ll describe my thoughts on some of the songs under the cut! Hope you enjoy it!

@anbu-legacy

ANBU Legacy Playlist- The Kids Might Be Alright

1.    You Know What They Do to Guys Like Us in Prison - My Chemical Romance (I love the overall feel of this song, the chaotic nature, and especially the last lines about “going down with my friends”- I feel like we all love Legacy for many things, but especially the friendships between everyone)

2.    Savior - Rise Against (I know literally this song is about a breakup, but the overall solemn and tragic tone won me over in adding this. Also I love the word savior because that’s probably not how most laymen in Konoha view ANBU, even though they are the ones doing the dirty jobs that does ultimately “keep the peace”, and also our boys (namely Kakashi and Ryouma) doing playing savior for others, but mostly in a way that’s trying to save themselves (that suicide/murder chapter, y’all know the one))

3.    Send the Pain Below – Chevelle (Everything hurts)

4.    Control – Halsey (I love this for ANBU in general! The tone of it is so scary and mysterious and “ And all the kids cried out, "Please stop, you're scaring me" /God damn right, you should be scared of me“ always reminds me of how they are perceived by non-ANBU folks.)

5.    Afraid (Ryouma) - The Neighborhood (This song for me is CLASSIC Ryouma- wrought with insecurities and sadness and the fear of being replaced or forgotten and not belonging and the DISTRUST while putting on his chummy face and sleeping around but really keeping everyone at arms length! @ninjaeyecandy)

6.    All I Really Want (Katsuko) - Alanis Morisette (Definitely the last lines of this songs speaks to me for Katsuko: And all I really want is some comfort/A way to get my hands untied/And all I really want is some justice...She’s so wonderful and suffered so much, and I wish she was with us longer to fuller navigate into being taken care of and loved by the team!!! #KatsukoForever, I seriously love her to death!!)

7.     What's in the Middle (Kakashi) - The Bird and the Bee (I always think of Kakashi for this because it seems like the song is about emptying one’s self of things in general, and the singer feels very detached from life/others. I see Kakashi in this line “I might need a little help with my own interconnection“ as well as the whole chorus. I also like how flat the singer sounds for him!)

8.     Skeleton (Raidou) - Bloc Party (Okay, this might be silly but I’ve literally CRIED while listening to this song and thinking about Raidou. I feel like every line fits perfectly with him- he’s a simple man, doing his best, but the constant STRUGGLE and fucking up, and he’s the Leader but he’s also still so young with wild teammates, and I just feel like he was at a breaking point in certain chapters/arcs! “And I've paid my dues/Just to get them all back” let the man have PEACE. @saunterleftside)

9.     Honest Mistake - The Bravery (They ALL say and do some dumbassery stuff sometimes)

10.   I Feel So - Boxcar Racer (They’re also often angry and fighting and feeling LOTS of emotions despite Ninja Code: Don’t Feel Shit)

11.   WagakkiBand – Kishikaisei (Genma) (Okay. @nezumiko I have such a bone to pick with you....Genma is SO put together- obviously he has faults as all humans and well rounded characters do but my GOD, it was so hard to find a song for him!!! Or at least, hard to search for qualities about him that people sing about! In the end I came to this band because they’re known for being a mix of of traditional Japanese instruments and rock. Genma’s spirituality is something I’ve always loved about this character. The lyrics I liked for this song are “Surely, you aren’t fighting by yourself/Because whatever happens, you’ll be supported/So, do your best“. I feel like Genma is SUCH a support system for everyone, being Raidou’s second in command, and feeding Ryouma’s self esteem, knowing how to navigate the more interpersonal situations. Ugh. Love love love.)

12.   You Are a Runner, and I am My Father's Son - Wolf Parade (Kakashi x Ryouma) (Okay, but isn’t this just kind of perfect?! Literally this title alone is the two of them as people! Kakashi being forever changed by Sakumo’s everything, and Ryouma running from intimacy. “I am my father's son/And I'll build a house inside of you/I'll go in through the mouth/I'll draw three figures on your heart”.)

13.   The Boy Who Ran Away – Mystery Jets (Ryouma) (Okay, Ryouma’s just so easy to find music for because he’s somehow the ANGSTIEST of them all, even next to Kakashi! I love him for it though...My OG Fallen Leaves crush. “And when he gets to this mythic place/The streets are dirty, dark and deep/There is no rest there/There is no place to lay a head to sleep, to sleep”. My heart.)

14.   New Cannonball Blues – TV On the Radio (This song scares me sometims and it’s so fast and frantic, much like certain arcs and chapters that keep me at the edge of my SEAT)

15.   Glory and Gore – Lorde (The general tone of it all, scary, dark, fighting, blood, dying. “The sun's starting to light up when we're walking home/Tired little laughs, gold-lie promises: we'll always win at this“. Obviously I don’t know where the story is going to end and play out- but realistically we all know that ANBU teams tend not to live for long...)

16.   Blood on Me – Sampha (Ugh, just such a good song and again more of the tone of it all, running away from some unknown predator and fearing for your life.)

17.   Melos – Wednesday Campanella (Okay, this actually has a short Wikipedia page I’d recommend reading: search Run, Melos! and it should pop up. Basically, the story’s main theme is “unwavering friendship” where the main character goes through a bunch of crap to save his best friend’s life!!! I love the video, I LOVE this song, and I love the whole story!! What brings enjoyment of Legacy if not the friendships in story, and also all the ones we’ve made out of it?)

18.   The Beginning – One Ok Rock (All these sad hoes) (Again, this song to me is about love/friendship/hopefulness and more good things. Despite all the adversity in this universe, I don’t think it’s ever completely dark and devoid of hope. All the characters have ability to change themselves and be more open to others and the world as a whole.)

Anyway! That’s basically the gist of what I was thinking with this playlist!!! I came from Fallen Leaves and I’m here with Legacy. I love love love the people in this fandom, as well as the current and previous writers that have given so much of their own love, care, and dedication.

I’m a month late, but have a wonderful new year everyone!!!

[daggerzine]

Sohrab Habibion from SAVAK (and Obits, Edsel, etc.) fills in the gaps.

I first noticed the name Sohrab Habibion in the Sub Pop band Obits nearly a decade ago. He’d then gotten in touch with me a few years back when he sent me the last Savak record, Beg Your Pardon (the band’s 3rd). I did some backtracking and realized he was in the old DC post hardcore band Edsel, whose music I enjoyed. We got to talking and I realized this guy’s had a pretty interesting career and I needed to find out more. He was more than agreeable to an interview on the DAGGER site. Oh and dig this....he recently he began posting some videos that he took of shows in the DC area in the mid-80’s, which is discussed below. Let’s all thank our lucky stars that someone was there with a video camera at shows back then.

Back to SAVAK, they have recently released their fourth full-length, Rotting Teeth in the Horses Mouth (on the Ernest Jenning Record Co label, like the last few) and it’s a terrific record. The kind of post-punk that’s not afraid to pOp! and vice versa. So needless to say Sohrab had plenty to talk about. Let’s take a trip both down memory lane and back to the future as well.

Sohrab.... always pushin’ the hair products.

 Did you grow up in the DC area? If not how did you end up there?

I moved to the suburbs of DC in 1979. My mom and I drove through Hurricane David from my grandfather’s house in Leonia, New Jersey to Annandale, Virginia with all of our possessions in the back of a Chevy Chevette. We had just left Iran because of the Revolution and, after a short stay in Bergen County to gather ourselves and do some research, my parents decided that we would resettle in the DC area.

Do you remember what the first record you ever bought was? First concert?

First record: It was a cassette of Love for Sale by Boney M. Actually maybe that was a gift from a friend. Either way I think of it as my first-owned album. I quickly had the lyrics to “Ma Baker” memorized and never gave a second thought to just how weird the cassette cover art was. If you’re not familiar, perhaps imagine an S&M dungeon version of Ohio Players? As a 7-year-old I think it just didn’t register. More interesting is that the producer, Frank Farian, was also the guy behind Milli Vanilli. If you’re up for it, I recommend doing some Googling about Mr. Farian, who was born Franz Reuther just after the start of World War II in a German valley settlement once known as the “Town of Leather.” It’s good stuff, I promise.

First concert: A friend’s older sister drove us to the old 9:30 Club to see one of the club’s 3 Bands for 3 Bucks nights. I remember feeling pretty excited about being in a part of town I didn’t know and seeing all kinds of people I didn’t ordinarily see. This was probably 1983 or 1984 so it was heavy on the New Wave look. In the basement of 9:30, once you’d squeezed down the narrow flight of stairs, there were bathrooms as well as a small counter that sold records and tapes. I bought The Halloween Cassette—a WGNS comp with Gray Matter, United Mutation, Velvet Monkeys, Malefice, Bloody Mannequin Orchestra and others—and the Minor Threat record that compiles the first two 7”s. On our drive home the DJ on WHFS played the song “Minor Threat,” which we literally had in our hands, and the whole thing felt tremendously serendipitous.

During his tryout with the Washington Bullets (Elvin Hayes beat him out). 

At what age did you pick up the guitar?

One night my mom came home from a school fundraising auction with an acoustic guitar that she’d won in the raffle. I actually think it might be the only time anyone in my family has ever won a raffle. I was 13 or 14 and discovering that I was not as good of a baseball player as I’d hoped or wanted to be and the guitar felt more connected to my interests, so I started to teach myself chords and rudimentary scales. It wasn’t long before I was able to get an electric guitar and make a complete mess of sound in neighborhood basements with friends.

How old were you when the punk rock bug bit you?

Thirteen, I think. I’m pretty sure it was 7th grade. I didn’t know a lot about rock music. Having spent a chunk of my early life in Iran, I missed the boat on a lot of big, American rock’n’roll moments. I was 9 when I was first exposed to KISS by neighbors who were also in the Boy Scouts and so I kind of lumped all that costuming together and the whole thing seemed silly. Special badges and membership cards and various allegiances you were supposed to declare. I felt disengaged from a lot of things in the suburban culture around me, so punk made sense upon its arrival. It took some time to sort things out, like what made the Dead Kennedys good and The Exploited bad, but once that initial door opened, I never turned back. If anything it just opened additional doors to other subcultures and underground movements and marginalized artists and thinkers. Punk helped me recognize that my sympathies will always be with the disenfranchised, the unheralded, the amateur, the wandering tinkerer.

How and when did Edsel get together?

I met Nick Pelliocciotto and Geoff Sanoff (who wouldn’t be in Edsel for a few years) at a Government Issue show at the Hung Jury Pub. Nick and I briefly played in a band with Jim Spellman (Velocity Girl, High Back Chairs, Foxhall Stacks), but that fizzled out. So Nick and I were looking for a bass player when we saw Steve Ward play a cover of “White Rabbit” at a high school talent show. Nick and I agreed that Steve looked cool (he really did) and, when we ran into him in the parking lot, he passed our test by answering that his favorite DC band was Happy Go Licky. We started practicing in the basement of the house Nick, Jim Spellman and I lived in off Reno Road in the Cleveland Park neighborhood of DC. We didn’t know what we were doing. Nick played me a bunch of records I had never heard before and we would talk about various details in the music. He made me aware of the way certain things interacted, like the bass guitar and the kick drum. I’d never considered that. I was also unfamiliar with singing in a band, so was starting from scratch. A lot of it began as rhythmic sing-song-speak-howling that could be heard somewhat above the volume of the band. I’ll never forget recording our first demo at Inner Ear with Michael Hampton. When it came time for me to do the vocals we were all surprised by what they sounded like and Michael nicely said, “Why don’t we call it a day and you go home and work on some melodies that we can record tomorrow.” Ha! When Nick and I got back to the house we listened to a bunch of albums to get ideas for vocal melodies. The one that resonated with me was Midnight Oil’s 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1 and it helped me understand how you could take a simple line and move it around with chord changes. I didn’t figure out what phrasing was for some time to come, but that was the start. Thank you Michael, Nick and Peter Garrett.

How/when did you end up in NYC?

Well, it’s a circuitous story, but . . . Edsel toured a lot between 1993 and 1995. So much so that I moved back into my parents’ basement to avoid paying rent for a place I wasn’t going to be spending any time in. My folks are lovely and it was a fine arrangement, but I missed having an apartment of my own. On tour in Chicago I was presented with the opportunity of a cheap living situation in a city that I liked, so I moved there. I had this fantasy that the band could keep it together while being in 3 different cities—Geoff had moved to NYC and the two Steve’s were in DC. Not a chance. I had a good year in Chicago, working at the Empty Bottle and playing with different local musicians, but Edsel basically succumbed to inertia and I decided to move back to DC to make a solo record. My parents had a cabin in the Shenandoah Valley and I went there for a period of time with my 4-track and the hopes of discovering whatever my version of Leonard Cohen and Brian Eno might be. That didn’t happen, but I learned a lot about recording myself and making mistakes and stumbling on things I liked that I hadn’t intended. Around this point I got a call from Michael Hampton, who’d moved to New York City a few years earlier. He said his neighbor in the West Village had moved out and he wondered if I might want to take the apartment. I was feeling pretty untethered and the idea of giving Manhattan a shot was exciting, so in November 1997 I packed up my books and CDs and headed up here. I’ve since crossed the bridge over to Brooklyn, but have no plans of leaving. I love this city and all of its flaws.

How about Obits? I know Alexis was in Edsel….had you known Rick already?

Alexis played in Edsel for a few reunion shows we did in 2013, but he wasn’t in the original lineup of the group. I first met Alexis in 1985 when Lünch Meat, his band, played with Kids For Cash, my band, at my local community center. He and I also share a birthday and a similar sense of humor, so when he joined Obits after the departure of Scott Gursky, our original drummer, it was an effortless transition. I’d also played with Alexis in Girls Against Boys on a 2002 European tour that Eli couldn’t do. I was Fake Eli and got to play bass on some of my favorite GvsB tunes, which was a blast. Alexis has a humorous diary from that tour: http://www.gvsb.com/euro_diary/index.html

Here’s an excerpt just so you know it’s worth the clicks:

“scott has determined that we should get rid of all the equipment and excess drummers and bass players and just travel with a painted sheet (we in the biz call this a scrim). that way he could have a band painted on it and just cut out the head of the singer and stick his own head through. this would reduce overhead and be a whole lot less of a hassle than having squabbling bass players and drummers with no IQ whatsoever.”

Rick and I met at an art show of his in the summer of ‘99. In fact, in looking to clarify the year I came across this email I sent to a friend:

“Last night my friend Hiroshi took me to an opening of his friend Rick Froberg’s work in some unknown Lower East Side apartment/gallery. I was shocked at how incredible his stuff was. His etchings like Goya’s, his prints like a German expressionist and his paintings like a weird amalgam of Raymond Pettibon and Norman Rockwell. But everything was very original despite its familiarity. He gave me one of his prints and I actually ended up buying one of his paintings. I’m really excited about it.”

Funny thing is that on that European GvsB tour I was wearing a Hot Snakes shirt. Little could I have guessed that I’d be in a band with Alexis and Rick 10 years later. Or maybe I could’ve? Our behavior and patterns are probably more predictable than I’d like to admit.

Anyway, long and short of it is after meeting Rick we started hanging out and as Hot Snakes was winding down in the early aughts he proposed we get together and strum our guitars. We had a good time and kept at it until things started to take shape. Fast forward a bit and our friend Speck browbeat Rick into playing with her band, Orphan, at Cake Shop. That was early 2008 and the internet did us a favor by sharing a bootleg recording of our gig, which led us to signing with Sub Pop. Seems just as weird now as it did then, but so it goes! The band was a hoot to be in and we had a grand time, particularly touring. The trips we made to Europe, Australia, Japan and Brazil were fantastic. I never thought I’d be able to do that playing scrappy rock’n’roll music. All the people that we met, the local specialties that we ate and drank . . . and drank . . . and then ate some more. Unforgettable. Until I forget them. Then I’ll refer to the documentation.

Obits.....always ready to rumble (notice the switchblade comb in Froberg’s pocket). 

Tell me about the end of Obits and the beginning of Savak? Who came up with the name?

The end of Obits was a little unexpected. At least the timing of it. All bands end, so it wasn’t surprising in that regard, but we had a French tour planned and had been offered some East Coast dates with Mudhoney, so it was a bummer not to be able to do those. But it had been a cold and miserable winter and Rick had some family stuff to marshal, so it felt best to call it, which is what we did on April 1st, 2015. The April Fool’s part wasn’t intentional, but I liked that it happened that way, what with being in a band often feeling like a cosmic joke anyway. But we’re all still good friends and very much in touch with each other. Funny thing is we’d actually written a fourth record with two drummers, as Matt Schulz had started playing with us as well (we did one show with both Alexis and Matt, which was fun), so on my hard drive somewhere are the demos and jams for that, including covers of “The In-Crowd” (https://youtu.be/KYbwk26mYJA) and Beasts of Bourbon’s “I Don't Care About Nothing Anymore.” (https://youtu.be/IpWi4OxhJXY)

Towards the end of Obits I’d started getting together with other friends to make noise. I was playing with Greg Simpson and Matt Schulz, doing instrumental versions of Hooterville Trolley and Shadows tunes, and separately with Michael Jaworski and Benjamin Van Dyke, just bashing out riffs. I asked all involved if they would want to combine the two and everyone was into it. The nice thing was Michael and I got to write with two different drummers, which opened up new ideas, and for a band that was just getting the swing of our internal vocabulary, it helped jumpstart the mojo.

I can’t remember at what point we were talking about band names, but when Viet Cong couldn’t take the heat for their name and decided to change it I made a joke about calling our group SAVAK. Then the more I thought about it the more I liked it and the group was on board, so we ran with it. The Iranian side of my family was a bit perplexed and bemused, but they all understood that this was a rock’n’roll outfit and not some creepy tribute to the former secret police in Iran. I’ve come to appreciate how that type of band name is a good litmus test. With a moniker like SAVAK you can see who actually knows anything about global political history, but more importantly you immediately know that anyone who takes issue with it isn’t likely to be interested in or even be familiar with punk rock or underground culture. So that person’s opinion on the subject doesn’t hold weight for me and I’ll attempt to redirect to a different subject that could be entertaining to chat about, like food or wine or bicycle maintenance or John le Carré books or, I dunno, HTML/CSS?

Savak has been recording pretty consistently…how did the new record come together so quickly? Who came up with the title?

Michael Jaworski, the other guitarist, singer and co-songwriter, came up with the title of Rotting Teeth in the Horse’s Mouth. Apparently it appeared to him in a dream and, well, I just liked the way it sounded. Both in that it reminded me of the DK’s classic Fresh Fruit for Rotting Vegetables and as a play on the idiom “hearing it straight from the horse’s mouth,” since the current mouth we hear more often than is good for anyone’s mental health has enough proverbial rotting teeth to fill the mouth of a giant armadillo.

We worked on the album over a period of months. Sometimes we would get together with Matt Schulz, our drummer, and hammer stuff out. Other times either Michael or I would start something at home and build it from there. The main thing was to keep it feeling like a band had cut it together live, regardless of how accurate that may be on any given song. We started with 16 tunes, ditched 2 of them that weren’t as developed, and recorded the remaining 14. Then we picked the 10 that sounded the most cohesive for the album and the others will come out as singles later in the year. We spent many intensely focused hours editing, overdubbing and trying to really hone in on what each tune needed. I like discreet events in music and subtle details that may not make themselves evident for a few listens. A keyboard that only appears in the second verse or a backing vocal that’s buried deep in the right channel of the outro or a flanged cymbal crash at the top of the chorus. Stuff that doesn’t have to happen in the live version but makes the recording a little richer without being overbearing.

SAVAK, just before diving in. 

In Savak, re; the songwriting process, is it both you and Michael together or do you write independently?

There’s always a collaborative element. We each add or edit the other’s songs to some degree. That’s one of the things I really like about our partnership. We actively try to keep our egos out of the way. And while we may not share the exact same taste about every little thing, we trust each other’s sensibility. I think that willingness to let go of our own ideas makes them more interesting and strengthens the working relationship.

Tell us about working with Arto Lindsay?

Rick Froberg was employed as an illustrator at a web-based, digital media shop in SoHo called Funny Garbage and he helped get me a gig making music for cartoons and video games they were producing for companies like Cartoon Network. I had access to a recording studio on a floor above our office which was run by an incredibly talented musician/producer named Andres Levin. One day ‘Dre asked if I could work on a session with a friend of his for a gallery installation. It seemed interesting, so I agreed. The guy showed up with two pillow cases that he wanted to put on his arms and flap wildly in front of a mic. His idea was to pitch the pillow case recording down a few octaves and add a lot of reverb so it would sound like a giant bird was flying. I don’t remember if he was pleased with the results, but we had a blast trying, and it turned out that fella was Arto Lindsay. He got in touch with me soon after about recording his next album. I was direct about the fact that while I was brisk with the ProTools and could run sessions efficiently, I was not a real engineer who knew about microphone placement and how to apply compression, etc. He said that was fine and arranged to rent a recording rig for his apartment and we got straight to work with Melvin Gibbs, who is Arto’s writing partner, co-producer, and bass player. We made Invoke in 2002 and two years later we made Salt, once again doing the whole thing in his Chelsea living room. Arto’s a wonderful guy, as is Melvin, and we had a terrific time together. I also learned a lot. He has such a deep knowledge of avante garde music and art and a whole world of Brazilian culture that he can tap into. And Melvin is an incredible musician, so getting to see how he approached assembling Arto’s ideas was fascinating. He was also forgiving with the fact that a punker like me was trying to edit Brazilian rhythms when I was having an impossible time even identifying the first beat of the groove. There was a lot of, “Please just tell me where the ONE is.” Arto knows a wide array of people and the process of making a record with him was very much about getting it done, but not at the expense of the vibe, so if someone dropped by you’d just have to roll with it. Sometimes that person would bring their instrument and overdub on a song or two, so I had to figure out how to be flexible about the recording process to make sure it was gonna be smooth for all involved, regardless of if it was a violin player or a guy doing a percussion track using a cardboard box. I ended up calling Geoff Sanoff for advice quite a bit—to the point where Arto would joke, “Is it time to call Geoff?” Ha! But he knew the deal going in, so all was fine. The experience of making those records was great and I got to meet some interesting folks. Also my appreciation of Brazilian music completely exploded. An unexpected and super cool project with Arto, Debbie Harry and Mikhail Baryshnikov also came from that. Another side note: when we were recording Invoke there was a song which Arto wanted to get Animal Collective involved in. This was 2001 and they were still more of a record store employee kind of band, but Arto had a couple of their CDs (Spirit They’re Gone Spirit They’ve Vanished and Danse Manatee, I think) and was really into them. We arranged to go into Stratosphere Sound, the studio that was owned by Adam Schlesinger, Andy Chase, and James Iha, where Geoff Sanoff worked, and do the session there. They had an interesting way of working—they would manipulate all of the instruments, including live drums, and have everything run through their PA and then have Geoff mic the PA speakers. So the final thing was this gauzy, mushy, blur that was like a sonic paste. They totally knew what they were doing and I was particularly impressed with Noah/Panda Bear as a musician.

Speaking of legends, how did you begin collaborating with Michael Hampton?

First we should be clear that we’re not discussing “Magic” Mike Hampton AKA Michael “Kidd Funkadelic” Hampton. According to Discogs, the Michael Hampton I know is “Michael Hampton (3)” of Brief Weeds fame. He’s a few years older than me so I missed his days in SOA and The Faith, but I was a fan and saw him in Embrace and One Last Wish. I attended American University in DC and ran into him on campus, told him I also played guitar and suggested that we “jam sometime.” Knowing him now this detail cracks me up because I’m positive I freaked him out and that he was horrified by the idea of “jamming” with an arbitrary, long-haired frosh. Some time after Edsel started we asked Michael to help produce our demo, as we were clueless about the studio. And when he was in Manifesto our bands played together and we got to be better friends. After he moved to New York, it was he and his wife, Monica, who encouraged me to move here. They also introduced me to my wife. And for the last 15 or so years we’ve worked together on soundtracks for indie films, documentaries and commercials. I can’t recall how that collaboration first started, but I love working with Michael. He’s got a quick wit, so there’s lots of yucks involved, but he also has a remarkable knack for music composition and knows how to layer ideas for perfect cinematic effect. As a guitar player he remains one of my favorites. Michael’s distilled Bob Andrews from Gen X and Captain Sensible and George Harrison and all these choice rock’n’roll and punk players into something distinctly his own.

Somewhere in Madrid, Spain (Spain Radio Nacional) 

Tell us your top 10 desert island discs?

That’s tough. I’d like to ensure a bunch of different moods are covered, so let’s see . . . how about:

Hamza El Din - Music Of Nubia

Tsegué-Maryam Guèbrou - Éthiopiques 21: Piano Solo

Mark Hollis - s/t

Skip James - Today!

Charles Mingus - The Black Saint And The Sinner Lady

Mission Of Burma - Vs.

The Rolling Stones - Sticky Fingers

Television - Marquee Moon

The Velvet Underground - s/t

Wire - 154

Who are some of your favorite current bands?

Bed Wettin' Bad Boys, Cable Ties, Contractions, FACS, Gotobeds, Grey Hairs, Hammered Hulls, Hot Snakes, Light Beams, METZ, Mint Mile, Modern Nature, Patois Counselors, Pays P., Rattle, Skull Practitioners, Slum of Legs, Sunwatchers, Tanning Bats, TK Echo, The Unit Ama.

I know I’m forgetting stuff. There’s a ton of excellent music being made right now.

What’s next for Savak? Once the lockdown is over will you guys tour?

It’s hard to be certain about anything these days, but I do know we’re eager to play once the Javel water has cleared. My hope is that we reschedule our UK tour as well as the shows we had on deck with Archers of Loaf. We were also trying to coordinate a Japanese tour, which we’d love to do, so I’ll add that to the list.

In the meantime we have a couple of non-album singles coming out later in the year.

I love making music, so whatever form it needs to take to make it work given our circumstances I’m fine with. Wanna jam on our phones? Hit me up!

SAVAK’s new one- Rotting Teeth in The Horses Mouth

BONUS QUESTION:  Tell us about all of those shows you recorded in the 80’s and have been putting up on the Dischord page? Great stuff!

Thanks! My mom bought me a Sony Betacam in 1985. I honestly had no inclination towards videotaping anything prior to this, but I think she may have thought it was a positive thing for a teenager to get involved in instead of playing Atari or hanging out at the Orange Julius at the mall or whatever. So I had this camera and I started taping what I was doing, which was basically going to shows. I didn’t think much about it and I never watched the tapes afterwards, so just slowly built up a collection of recordings that sat in a box at my parents’ house for years. It wasn’t until James Schneider started working on what eventually became the Punk the Capital movie that the tapes were unearthed. Then Scott Crawford wanted to use them for Salad Days and had the genius idea of getting Dave Grohl’s production company to digitize them, as they wanted footage for that Sonic Highways show. So at Scott’s suggestion I sheepishly asked if it was something they could do and they immediately said yes. I was pretty stunned by their generosity. The tapes themselves are now part of the Punk Archive in the DC Public Library, which is both cool and hilarious. The idea of random stuff I videotaped when I was 15 being part of an institutional archive is pretty absurd. Now that I’ve got this extra pandemic time to spend in front of my computer, I’ve been editing down each set, adjusting the light balance so the footage is less murky and also remastering the audio so they sound better. The timing of the Dischord Records Fan Page on Facebook is fortuitous, as it provides a reasonably eager audience for what might have otherwise just been a few additional gigs of server space being cooled in a Google data center in Moncks Corner, South Carolina.

“Who you callin’ a low life?” 

www.savakband.com

www.savak.bandcamp.com

[kat-feinated]

My favorite Denver restaurants

How was your week?

My week included being invited to have a threesome with two of my work clients, who are both meth addicts and lost custody of their child due to said meth addiction.

My boss asked me to send the text to her and just replied “FOR GOD SAKE” and I feel like that’s the perfect summary of my year.

Speaking of meth, we finally finished watching “Tiger King” this week. I know I know, that show is so one month ago. But I have a lot of thoughts that I need to share with the world.

1. Did anyone else find Joe really sympathetic and felt bad for him? Yes, I know he’s unstable and probably killed animals and stuff but I found him...endearing!? 

2. Doc Antle is the creepiest ever ever ever. 

3. Jeff Lowe sucks. And his wife is way too young for him. And THE WHOLE THING WITH THE NANNY I JUST CAN’T.

4. The guy with no legs whose name I can’t remember was my favorite character. And just seems so normal. How did he end up there!?

5. I’m proud of Saff for standing up for Joe in the aftershow...everyone else just sold him down the river!

6. Howard Baskin. Howard Baskin singing. Howard Baskin’s wedding photos with Carole Baskin. The show is worth watching just for Howard Baskin.

7. Do I think Carole murdered her husband and fed him to a tiger? Yes. Would I still hang out with her in a heartbeat? ABSOLUTELY.

8. I’m extremely mad that I didn’t come up with “hey all you cool cats and kittens”. And now it’s already over-used.

Do you miss eating at restaurants as much as I do? (Probably not because you’re probably a normal person who has friends and other hobbies). I miss restaurants so much it HURTS. I miss looking up menus and deciding what I’m going to order days before I go. I miss people-watching and commenting on everyone else’s food. I miss kind servers bringing me baskets of bread and drinks that I didn’t make. I MISS RESTAURANTS YOU GUYS.

So, while I’m eagerly waiting for restaurants to start re-opening, I thought it would be fun to share my very favorite places to eat in Denver. Share this list with your favorite Denver local! Or better yet, come visit Denver and try these spots out (and invite me!!). 

Cuba Cuba: This was the first restaurant I tried in Denver, because it’s across the street from our old apartment. It’s located in an adorable blue bungalow but is surprisingly spacious on the inside. For drinks, order their house made mojitos or a pina colada. For appetizers, order the plantain chips with guacamole and garlic sauce (YUM) or the empanadas. Everything I’ve eaten there for dinner has been delicious, but I especially love the coconut shrimp and the chimichurri steak.

Perfect for: a date night or girls’ night where you feel like getting a little dressed up (but you’d be fine going there dressed more casually).

Rioja: This is my mom’s favorite Denver restaurant, and she insists we go every single time she’s in town. It’s located in Larimer Square, the cutest and most charming street in downtown Denver. It’s a bunch of old Victorian buildings that have been converted into restaurants and shops, and the street is decorated with twinkly lights and Colorado state flags so it’s a great spot to get a touristy picture when you visit.

The menu changes constantly, so it’s hard to recommend exactly what to order, but you can’t go wrong with the pasta dishes. They are known for their artichoke tortelloni and it’s honestly the best pasta I’ve ever eaten in my life. Last time we also ordered the tagliatelle and clams which was fantastic. For starters, order the smoked pear and raclette if it’s available-so yummy.

Also, Rioja makes all their bread in house, and it’s probably our favorite part of the restaurant. Waiters literally come around with a giant tray of bread and I always try every single type. The lavender sourdough and rosemary biscuit are life-changing.

Perfect for: when your parents come visit (and pay!) or a special occasion like an anniversary or birthday dinner. It is on the pricey side.

Work & Class: This is probably the Denver restaurant I’ve eaten at the most. Located in the very hip Five Points neighborhood, Work & Class is always busy and does not take reservations, so I would recommend going on a random weeknight vs. a Friday or Saturday. If you do go on the weekend, plan on an hour plus wait-the good news is you’re surrounded by bars and breweries to help pass the time.

Work & Class is a South American/American fusion restaurant, and everything is served tapas (small plates) style, so go with someone you are cool sharing with. They have fabulous in-house cocktails which change seasonally, so definitely order one while you peruse the menu. It’s hard to make food recommendations since I’ve probably tried everything on the menu and have never been disappointed, but some of my favorites include: the lamb, the empanadas, the mac & cheese, and any of their vegetable side dishes.

Perfect for: your group of friends who you’re comfortable sharing with (eating off of each other’s plates!).

Mercantile Dining & Provisions: This is another spot that my mom insists on visiting every time she comes to Denver. It’s located in Union Station in downtown Denver, which is itself a great spot to visit. It’s an old train station (that is still a working train station) but also home to a hotel, an ice cream parlor, a bookshop, a florist, and every other small adorable business you can imagine.

Mercantile serves breakfast, lunch, and dinner (I’ve had all 3 there), but my mom and I have created what we believe is the perfect system for dining there. We always go on the day she is leaving town, since she can take the train from Union Station to the Denver Airport after our meal. We try to go around 11am, and we order a raspberry muffin. My mom doesn’t even like muffins, but these are no ordinary muffins-not too sweet, perfectly fluffy, moist (I’M SORRY) -just sheer perfection. After sitting and people watching for about an hour, we then order a short rib sandwich around noon, as soon as they start serving their lunch menu (it gets quite busy at this time). SO GOOD. SO TASTY. Plus, the restaurant itself is so cute-it looks like Joanna Gaines designed the perfect black-and-white chic modern farmhouse.

Perfect for: brunch/lunch after a morning exploring downtown Denver, or a quick bite before catching the train to the airport.

Lowdown Brewery: Is it cheating that this is actually a brewery and not a restaurant? I say it counts because they make all their food in house. I don’t always love going to the popular breweries around Denver because they’re usually packed. I’ve never seen Lowdown packed and in my opinion it’s the best brewery in Denver in terms of food and ambience-and the beer is good too!

Not only do they make and sell their own beers, but their menu always features a seasonally rotating list of Colorado beers as well. They have a lot of IPA’s (which I despise but everyone else seems to love). I’ve tried their blood orange wheat, selfish (pale ale), and their blackberry sour and have enjoyed all three. In terms of food, you can’t go wrong with any of their pizzas, salads, or sandwiches, but I personally can’t get enough of their beer cheese dip (served with broccoli, apple slices, and soft pretzel bites-I’M DROOLING).

Perfect for: sitting out on their patio with friends in the warm weather. Bring your dog!

El Five: El Five has one of the coolest views of downtown Denver, not to mention delicious food and drinks and great service. Their sangria is the best I’ve ever tasted, but they have tons of great cocktail, beer and wine choices if that’s not your thing (but also what is wrong with you). For appetizers, try the spreads of the med-a platter of house made pita, hummus, and veggies. For their traditional tapas, I’ve tried and enjoyed the patatas bravas, the shrimp & calamari, and the goat cheese croquettes. Then, of course, you must try their paella. I’ve tried both the Valencian (made with rabbit confit!) and the seafood and would recommend either. Be prepared to log roll out of the restaurant when you’re finished because you will have gained 100 pounds.

Perfect for: a festive date night, dinner with your parents, drinks with your girlfriends-just be prepared for an expensive bill.

Stowaway: I’ve only been to Stowaway once, right before the shelter in place order started, but I’ve been dreaming about it ever since. First of all, it is tucked into the cutest former warehouse-turned-hipster-coffee shop/brunch spot, complete with exposed pipes and red brick walls. I AM HERE FOR IT.

We went on a Sunday morning with some friends who warned us to expect a bit of a wait. Fortunately, the Denver Central Market is just a few blocks away so we were able to enjoy some cocktails and/or coffee while we waited.

When we finally got in, I ordered the Colorful Colorado (an egg dish) because of the 8 million reviews I’d read ahead of time that told me I must order this dish or live a life of unending misery and regret (ok, that might be a slight exaggeration but it was something along those lines). I also split the fruit toast with Joshua because I have to order something sweet and something savory when I go to brunch (I know I have a problem, just leave me alone). Both were so freaking good. I can’t wait to go back soon and try everything on their menu (or more likely, order the same two dishes over and over again).

Perfect for: brunch with your favorite hipster friend.

Linger: This is the one restaurant on my list that I love more for the location/ambience than for the food, though the food is certainly tasty. Linger is located in my favorite neighborhood in Denver (LoHi or Lower Highlands) and the building it’s in USED TO BE A MORTUARY. Like, WHERE DEAD PEOPLE WOULD BE SENT AFTER THEY DIED. I personally find this so cool, and if this freaks you out, you would never know except that I just told you (sorry). It’s very airy inside with cozy mood lighting and exposed brick walls. This is another place that does small plates and they’re all globally-inspired street food dishes-the menu is literally divided by continent (i.e. Asia, Africa). For drinks, order the turmeric mule. For eating, you really can’t go wrong, but some dishes I’ve enjoyed include: the bao buns, the impossible burger persian sliders, the tuna tostadas, and the potato masala dosa. Skip dessert because right around the corner you’ll find Little Man Ice Cream-one of my favorite ice cream spots in the city.

Perfect for: a first date/date night, a girls’ night, or a summer brunch on their rooftop bar.

Snooze: Full disclosure-Snooze is a chain and is not just located in Denver; they have locations across Colorado and in a few other states including Texas and California. That being said, I just have to include it on my list because I believe it is completely worth the hype.

Because there is always a long wait (I’m talking 2 hours sometimes), we always go on a Monday morning when there’s a federal holiday that other people don’t get off, such as Columbus Day. Don’t kid yourself-there will still be a wait, but it will hopefully be closer to one hour. Plus, they give out free coffee while you wait!

I don’t even like pancakes, but I always order the pancakes here. ORDER THE DAMN PANCAKES PEOPLE. You can even get a pancake flight where you can sample three different types of pancakes (I highly recommend the blueberry danish pancakes and the sweet potato pancakes). If I’m in a savory mood, I’ll order the breakfast tacos with a side of one pancake.

Perfect for: brunch with your friend, brunch with family or anyone with kids, brunch with your arch nemesis, brunch with anyone.

Hopefully this list made you excited to go back to restaurants again in the future, instead of depressed! And please send me your best restaurant recommendations! These conversations are what I live for.

[taradodrill]

Typically the Keys to Success to Investing in Real Estate

Most home professionals flunk within the first few months of trying to come up with a business enterprise out of real estate investing. The trick begins with a favorable marketing plan and then practicing a disciplined effort towards the marketing plan on a even basis. There is a lot more necessary to succeed, and you will encounter more tips, tricks and one of a kind real estate marketing techniques in this article. Is there anyone in your town that will not recognize that you buy homes or that you are a real estate pro? If so, you aren't performing as well at marketing or making real estate investing information about your real estate investing business enterprise in addition you could be. I find out real estate investors telling all the time construct y aren't receiving seller phone calls and subsequently aren't attaining the leads they need to find the real estate business deals they require to earn a living. I say increase the marketing and the retailers will Call. Not only that but if you are canvassing the world (or at least your area) that you buy problem real estate holdings, eventually you will be acknowledged for what you do and owners will telephone you strictly on your reputation. this is what is addressed cost effective marketing. One real estate professional was in a home, lawn and hardware store a few calendar weeks ago and also went past a couple of guys in an aisle. A debate was heard while he walked by, I overheard one state, "That is the real estate man". Now I did never known either of those men and have no suggestion who they are but that experience lets me accept that I must be doing my business at letting the whole world to recognize my business is buying real estate in that place. There are many ways to let the area know that you are in the property investing profession and getting information out there that can help people realize you buy foreclosures, distressed real estate, do housing short sales and have got a lot of real estate information plus experience to flip properties. Some methods are low-priced and some are more expensive. You are going to have to attempt many things and find a feel for what brings about for you the best makes for your region to get the calls you require to transact real estate property deals. I have tried many forms of marketing methods for properties commercial enterprises of all varieties and have come back to a few who consistently create enough leads for me to purchase the 2 or possibly 3 real estate holdings and houses I want to purchase each calendar month. They are as follows: Classified Ads The classified advertising in the most prominent newspaper in the region is by far typically the heaviest producer of leads for local real estate purchasers that I have determined. I understand it is costly and I understand there are instances it does not generate phone calls but if you are likely to persist in the real estate investing business sector just erect it in there and leave it. Get used to it making up part of the toll of performing the real estate business. You may pay back about $350. 00 a calendar month for my contemplate line ad and that is the commercial range. I'd take into account running it 365 days a year to constantly cue everyone that you are a real estate professional and you purchase realty in their region. Over the past few or so years I have watched many "real estate investor" ads come and turn. Most folks put them in for a many as well as just a couple of calendar weeks and then remove them or try just simply placing them in on the week ends. Real Estate Selling just simply does not work this way. Put your real estate ad in your paper and leave it in there. It will more than make up for the price, trust me, and you will see after you finish your own first deal. If you are distressed because there are real estate buyers ads from many other investors in there, don't be. They are right now there because they are getting responses. Just be sure to and actually answer your cellphone and keep it on all the time otherwise you'll be wasting money. When a fresh ad for real estate investor advice shows up in my newspaper, I will always call on the advertising campaign. 9 times out of 10 I get a message equipment or answering service. This is a significant turn off to any individual who needs a resolution to their real estate trouble now. They speak to a person who can quiet their anxiety over the current issues with their home and tell them everything is going to be ok. Your answering device won't do that, they need a human being. As for what to put in the advertising, you will have to work on this place. I have tried various idea and the one I have at this time hast not changed for over 4 years. I just haven't switched it because I get responses. The ad is: We Pay CASH FOR HOMES On 24 Hours! Any area, price or condition Call xxx-xxx-xxxx Now I have had other real estate professionals jockey just for place and interchange their ad copy to be primary of mine in the column but it has not made in the least difference, at least as far as I can discern. Don't worry about those tips, just get the advertising out there and leave it. It could actually take a bit of time, perhaps a several weeks to get going and yet sellers will telephone. As soon as you have your classified selling running, then you should start working on your other marketing ways right away. If you only go through one idea a week, the next few weeks or a couple of months you will have a significantly powerful real estate selecting process. Ads in the "Freebie" Papers You might also run advertising campaign in the freebie papers in your local region or areas you want to conduct real estate investment deals. These are the "Thrifty Nickel", or whatever they are named in your region. We jog both a column ad and a display in this newspapers and expend about $175. 00 or so a calendar month for these ads. They pull in seller sales opportunities reasonably well and have always rationalized the costs. Remember that this business are usually open to talking terms on your rates and you will almost certainly get a better rate if you commit to a longer advertising understanding. Bandit Signs or Road Signs. Bandit signs will be great. They are some of the best lead producing tools around. I had yet to put out a bunch and not be bombed together with calls right after I arranged my marketing. I just won't position them out that often. I might place through a few to a half dozen or so a calendar month and those that continue and don't get taken down continue to pull through phone calls. At an average price of less than $4. 00 per sign, they are one of the greatest real estate marketing and advertising values attainable. Check the net for sign manufacturers for discount signs costs. I use 18 x 24 signs and place them at high traffic crossings around the town I wish to purchase houses in. I also position a sign from the front yard immediately after purchasing any house. I have purchased numerous homes in the same regions as a result of marketing this way. It is easy to either use wood stakes or the wire pegs with your signs. I like the wood stakes because they really don't bend like the wire ones, in addition , they are more more affordable and you can find just about any reasonably sized stick of wood made or stake at your local hardware store for a ideal value. Just get long lengths and trim down and fit. Then just nail the sign to it with the top nails with the orange or green plastic tops and / or you can use screws. There are many variants on what the wording within the sign can say. Keep in mind that traffic will be moving this means you want to keep your message short and simple so it may well be read. Plus your telephone number must be big, large and readable. If you search the sign advertisement content, you will discover that should be same resemblance my paper ad. I like to brand the advertising because I believe that helps with identification that is in all probability why the two guys noticed me as a Real Estate Pro.. You want to have contrast, so a white sign utilizing dark blue letters usually is the best draw. Some folks claim by black on yellow or black on vodafone. Again, I say it's not what or how you tell you it rather simply that you're out there marketing and positioning out signs that counts. You'll build a 'brand picture over time if you stay logical with your real estate marketing tries. When dealing with bandit signs, be sure that your local code enforcement laws are aware of them. In some areas or counties he or she can lax on them but a few miles down the road in a second county or city, they can be super strict and will ticketed you in a minute, pull the signs down as well as lead off looking for your next posters to go after you once more. Some retail merchants in high tax areas just can't put out any A board signage without having them type of and then fined. Flyers and Bulletin Board Postings Flyers and related collateral are another cheap way to purchase the word out that you are a real estate investor buy place, foreclosures or distressed properties. Just create a flyer through any one of the free on-line flyer software internet sites sharing people that your are a real estate investor and how to get touching you. Make copies for few cents apiece and also have some really inexpensive real estate marketing and advertising. It really is that simple. Therefore place these flyers on every bulletin board near your home or region you would like to buy your property, foreclosure or distressed home.. I also recommend that you place some of them on those plastic sheet shielders so the rain won't destroy them and put them up on phone poles all-around neighborhoods I like to buy property in.. While not as distinguished as the bandit signs, on poles actually in the neighborhood they still attract phone calls. I carry a submit with me in my automobile and put them up while I stop at a grocery store or major discount browse or really wherever. Some of the other area to put them all are: · Laundromats · Taped to the inside of call Booths. · On the counter of any business enterprise that will let you place them at. · Bulletin planks at any local or major rebate store (lots in traffic) · Grocery store bulletin boards · Fax for you to Mortgage agents, call first · Fax to Real Estate Agents, call first and they may get a lot of these. · Take these products Door to Door in target regions · A career centre Bulletin board · County Courthouse or general population office Bulletin board These are just a few illustrations. Any place intended to allow you to set one is a good place. You can never help too many people know that you are a real estate investor so are in the foreclosure market. Imprinted and/or Promotional Items Ideal Real Estate Investor Marketing Ideas - These no-lose strategies are sure to get you top hits on leads and entails your Real Estate Investing occupation. These are some of my favourites and most fun. While they are not the top producers regarding leads or the least costly, they will sure position you will apart from the average investor. Pen Knives - These small Swiss army knives are the neatest things. They are genuinely key chains etched with your content, mine being: WE ALL BUY HOMES - All cash or take over installments within 24 hours! Call xxx-xxx-xxx I assure if you produce one of these to somebody they will hold on to it it given that they conceive of selling, they will think of you. There're about $1. 75 each. Key Chains - My spouse and i give these to all my buyers with the keys in their new house on them and leave them all over the destination. They come in the shape of a house or #1 or perhaps whatever style you like and have your message on them. You possibly can guess what mine says. Cost - about $. twenty five cents apiece. Pens - I use these all the time. While I sign a sales receipt or anything When i leave my pen. I cannot tell you how many outcries I have gotten off of these things and since I often demand one, I always possess one to give away. My attorney sometimes has a supply on his closing table. I feature two types printed. One for sellers says "We Buy Homes! " and one for buyers says "Everyone Qualifies". Cost - about $. 26 cents in every unit. Coin Holders - These you hardly come across anymore so everyone is surprised when I have them. I get away from these things everywhere. Mine are bright yellow with white letters and my message. Cost - about dollar. 30 cents apiece. I leave all of these promotional goods everywhere, on the top of gas pumps, on end-cap demonstrates in grocery stores and in department stores. I look at it that way, if I give away 100 pens, 50 knives and 50 coin holders a month, that is only a little over $100 bucks a month. That is still cheap advertising. And with the income you can make in a real estate deal, it is 'no cost' web marketing strategy. You can get any of these promotional advertising products at many big promotion marketing manufacturer, and you can find companies online at the same time. Business Cards I order business cards by the countless numbers and you should as well, there are a lot of great places online which could print up nice (and cheap) cards for you and also specialize in real estate as well. As for business cards, well, there're cheap, mine are about $50. 00 for 2000, and I pass them out and leave individuals everywhere I possibly can. I leave my cards almost everywhere, in pay phones, on restaurant tables, my boys and girls even have their own supply to pass out. Try to get a package a week out. The card doesn't have to be fancy, in actual fact the simpler the better. My card is bright blue with blue letters and says:

[elliepassmore]

The Hate U Give Book Review

5/5 stars

Recommended for people who like: strong female lead, realism, activism, and social issues; honestly, I think everyone should read it, thus why it went on my rather pretentious ‘Books Everyone Should Read’ board.

In honor of the movie coming out today, I thought I’d post my review of the book. 

The Hate U Give is such an amazing, heartbreaking novel that deals with police brutality, identity, and how you use your voice. The story follows Starr over the few hours before and several weeks after her childhood friend is murdered by a white cop. The situation is, unfortunately, familiar, as Khalil was unarmed at the time of the shooting—and true to form, the media twists facts. Virtually from the start of the book I was shaking, Thomas weaves the prose so beautifully, so realistically, it was easy to get caught up in the events of the novel as they were unfolding. My heart ached for Starr, Khalil, Starr’s family, and Khalil’s family. It ached for the people *SPOILER* Khalil, DeVante, Iesha *SPOILER END* in the novel who did things because they had no other choice. It ached for the people who wanted things to change but weren’t sure how to make it happen, or if they could.

 The book starts off with Starr at a party, talking to her half-brother's sister. It's shortly followed by an incident in which Starr and her childhood best-friend, Khalil, leave the party in Khalil's car and are pulled over by a white officer. Automatically, the officer is suspicious of the two, and the incident ends with him shooting Khalil, who was unarmed. It's such an intense scene, Starr is panicking about her friend, she was already afraid about the cop before anything happened, she knows Khalil was dead--or dying--as he hit the pavement, the cop points a gun at her, and to compound it all, *SPOILER* she saw another childhood friend shot and killed when she was a child *END SPOILER*. The whole scene gave me chills.

 Starr is then faced with a decision: come forward as a suspect and risk being targeted by the cops and media, or stay silent and risk the officer walking free.

 One of the best parts of the book is that Starr isn't automatically a revolutionary activist, it occurs in stages. The first decisions Starr must make involve 1) what to do about the people at school, who she tries to be a different person around, and 2) what to say to the cops, if she should say anything. These first few decisions shape the way the rest of the book plays out.

 Thomas expertly weaves the different aspects of the book, from Starr's neighbors in Garden Heights, to the gangs there, to her family, to her friends at school, to the police officers involved. Each have their own version of what happened that night, and each version plays into how each group reacts to the events that occurred. Some react violently, others think Khalil deserved it, many are angry.

 The book discusses the natural weapon we are all given—our voice—and what we decide to do with said weapon. One of the people at the school Starr goes to uses her voice to show how she supports the media. A barber in Starr’s neighborhood uses his voice to disagree with violence done against innocent cops as well as the violence done to black people. Starr’s Uncle Carlos uses it to support Starr and Khalil. And Starr uses hers.

Starr’s character development is interesting. From the beginning, she doesn’t want to step away from knowing Khalil, but she also has this idea ingrained in her head that she has to act one way in Garden Heights and another when she’s at school, away from Garden. So, she makes the decision to keep quiet to people, but come forward and talk to the cops as a witness. It’s a step. Soon she’s deciding to talk to her friends and boyfriend about it, to talk to an attorney/activist who helps Starr pro-bono *SPOILER* and also organizes rallies for Khalil *END SPOILER*, and eventually leads to Starr *SPOILER* making a speech at a protest after the cop who murdered Khalil isn’t indicted *END SPOILER*.

 While the main vein of the story is Khalil and the cop and how that plays out, Thomas also included family as a major part of the novel. Starr’s family supports her through every step of the process. They support her in not speaking, and they support her when she decides to. Her parents obviously play a major role in her life. It’s her mother who comes to her defense in many of the scenes involving the cops and the DA, and it’s her father who helps her stay grounded in life outside of the tragedy and gets outside protection involved when things start going bad. We get to see how the tragedy plays a role in the dynamics between her brothers, Sekani and Seven, and in the dynamics with Seven’s mother and other half-sisters. We also get to see the connection outside of blood family. The people of Garden Heights are angry over what happened to Khalil, rightly so, and they band together to not only protest, but also to help one another—another point where her father plays a major role *SPOILER* he helps one sect of the King Lords and Garden Disciples make peace and set aside turf wars so they can properly unite for Khalil, he’s also shown to help kids (main ones mentioned are Khalil and DeVante) get out of trouble by giving them jobs and even a safe place to stay *END SPOILER*. And while the tragedy as the chance to rip apart the neighborhood family as well as the blood family, both groups end the story with a stronger sense of unity and connection than they started with.

 This last bit also plays into the theme of identity throughout the book. Starting off, Starr has two identities: Garden Heights Starr and Williamson Starr. In one, she gets to use slang and be proud of where she lives, though she feels slightly outside of the neighborhood since she attends a private school. In the other, she tries to fit into the role of an ‘acceptable black woman,’ and that involves not using too much slang, trying not to get angry, and other things like that. Garden Heights Starr is friends with Khalil, Williamson Starr is not. It, perhaps obviously, causes friction, as after Khalil is killed, Starr has to deal with how she feels and what she knows to be true about Khalil, and what the rest of the world, and even some of the people at Williamson feel and think to be true. The resulting friction definitely causes changes in how she perceives people at school as well as who she deals/hangs out with *SPOILER* I was lowkey happy when she and Maya dumped Hailey because W O W was she awful *END SPOILER*. In the end, Starr reaches a happy medium, deciding to incorporate aspects of both Garden Heights and Williamson Starr into the ‘other’ Starr, allowing her to be the person she actually is, instead of catering to expectations.

 The last few pages of the book also gave me goosebumps, though for a different reason than the beginning. In the end, Thomas lists names—

“It’s about Seven. Sekani. Kenya. DeVante.

It’s also about Oscar.

Aiyana.

Trayvon.

Rekia.

Michael.

Eric.

Tamir.

John.

Ezell.

Sandra.

Freddie.

Alton.

Philando.

It’s even about that little boy in 1955 that nobody recognized at first—Emmett.

The messed up part? There are so many more.” (443)

—and she also gives us this quote:

“Others are fighting too, even in the Garden, where sometimes it feels like there’s not a lot worth fighting for. People are realizing and shouting and marching and demanding. They’re not forgetting. I think that’s the most important part.” (444)

 Many have been touched by tragedy, by this tragedy. And the ending reminds us of that. It’s a book about activism and social issues and change and identity, and it’s about family and using your voice. Starr is a strong character because she’s real. She’s had something terrible happen and she wants to speak up about it but she’s afraid and angry on so many different levels. She’s afraid of getting death threats, of the cops, of not doing Khalil justice, of what will happen if the cop isn’t indicted. And she’s angry about these things as well. Angry at the cop who killed her friend, angry at the media for twisting who Khalil is and what happened that night, angry at people who didn’t know Khalil thinking he ‘deserved it,’ angry at how everything turns out. Everyone has felt afraid at some point. Many have felt afraid to speak out, just like Starr. And there are many who speak out anyway.

[yotsubanoclover]

Mother

Wherever you are, I hope you are happy.

Entry for @saeranchoiweek day 3 - Childhood, Memories

Saeran drawing is not a rare sight, but this is the first time you notice him drawing a person, instead of flowers or scenery.

You take a peek. “What are you drawing?”

“Oh...” He is smiling shyly, half showing half hiding his work-in-progress. “It is not finished yet.”

It’s a drawing of a woman, you notice. She is tall and thin, with long and wavy hair. It looks like she is standing up, with both of her hands on her sides. Although Saeran has drawn half of her body, she is still faceless - no eyes, nose, mouth, or any expression of sort. The absence of the face strikes you as odd - maybe he plans to draw them last?

“That’s not me,” you blurt out, trying to sound like you are disappointed.

“Yeah...” He hesitates. “This is... I’m drawing my mother.”

“Oh?” You’re not sure how to react. What you do know, though, is that there is a story behind this that he hasn’t told you yet. After all, you know better than anyone that Saeran doesn’t have good memories with his mother - so why the sudden drawing? He’s always been drawing the things he loves - the sky, the flowers in the garden, the scenery around home - so why his mother?

Is it a good thing to ask?

“I’ll tell you why,” Saeran suddenly says. Whoops, you must’ve said it out loud. He gestures you to sit next to him as he continues the sketch. It is a peaceful morning; the breeze is gentle, the birds are chirping in the garden, and the sound of Saeran’s pencil moving around the sketch book somehow makes it even more relaxing.

“So... I’ve been visiting my old neighborhood lately,” he starts. “Last time, I met someone who knows my mother. She’s an old lady who’s lived in the neighborhood for a long time, and was on her way to the church when she called out to me.”

(Saeran’s point of view)

You know me - I didn’t even notice her until she called out. “Um, excuse me?”

I stopped, turning to face her. “Yes?”

“Oh, I didn’t mean to be rude, but you look a lot like someone I know,” she continued. Then her hands moved, as if to touch my hair - which is getting more and more like the original color - but she stopped herself. “There used to be a young girl in this neighborhood with a beautiful red hair just like yours.” She mentioned a name.

Immediately I knew she was talking about my mother. After asking her to tell me more about the said young lady, I walked with her to a small park nearby the church, where we could sit down and talk. Even though I was a stranger, she didn’t even hesitate to let down her guards and talked freely, as if telling a bedtime story. Her voice was soothing. Somehow, I felt as if I’d known her for ages.

“She was a very beautiful young lady, you know. Of course, her red hair is rare and all, but she was also a gentle and friendly lady who frequented the church. Everyone knew her, enjoyed her presence. Including myself. In fact, I’ve known her ever since she was a little girl.

“She came from a respectable family - not rich, but pretty well-off for that time, I’d say. Her parents were very strict with her, as the only child. As they were very busy all the time, she spent most of her time helping at the church. Yes, she used to be one of the lead singers in the church choirs - one of the best, even! If only you could listen to her sing the gospel songs!

“Aside from the choir, she also helped tending the garden sometimes - she was never good with her hands, you see, but she’s a hard worker. Every time I went to church, I would always see her there, busy helping whoever might need her help.”

To be honest, although I was listening quietly the whole time, I started to become unsure whether she was really talking about Mother. The mother I know was someone who was drunk all the time, and was never hesitant to resort to violence to make me and my brother listen to her. The mother I know had hoarse voice from screaming all the time - I know no kind words from her.

But suddenly the woman’s face turned grim and her tone of voice changed.

“Though, there was always one thing bothering me.”

Surprised at the sudden change, I couldn’t help asking. “What is it?”

“Well, this didn’t happen often, so I always thought it to be my own imaginations. Sometimes when she was alone, her eyes would look as if they’re somewhere else, staring at nothing, losing their usual shine.

“Then, at one point - really only once - she accidentally splashed herself with water and had to roll her sleeves while watering the plants - that’s when I noticed bluish bruises on her arm. I’d ask her, and she’d say something like she fell and whatnot. She’d always wear shirts with long sleeves and long trousers - was it to cover her bruises? I never had the chance to ask her again, because I started seeing her less and less... until no one heard about her anymore for years.

“Then one day she was found dead in a rundown house nearby - her late parents have long moved away before then and we all thought that she, too, went along. Turns out, she didn’t.” She wiped her eyes with a handkerchief. “How she ended up alone in such a house, I couldn’t fathom. Rumors say she had children, but the police couldn’t find anyone.”

(Readers’ point of view)

Saeran flashes a weak smile. “I couldn’t respond to her properly after that, and we soon went our separate ways - but her story stayed with me.”

You, too, cannot find the right words to say to him, so you reach out to his free hand, giving it a light squeeze, returning his smile.

“I thought about it for days - that maybe... maybe like Rika, and my other self, Mother hurt people - hurt us - because she, too, was hurt. 

“I also keep asking myself... about her relationship with that man.” Saeran mentions his father looking like he ate something foul-tasting. “What if she really loved him... and was betrayed? What if there was a time she genuinely loved us... but the circumstances forced her to change? What if as time passed, me and my brother grew more and more like the man who betrayed her... reminding her of her untreated wounds? What if those wounds were the reason she always reeked of alcohol... because she wanted to forget? Once I started thinking about it, I couldn’t stop.”

Putting down his sketch book, he stares at you, his expression softening. “I know how it feels to be in love now - I couldn’t imagine losing you, at all - and maybe she, too, was like that. Not only did the love of her life betrayed her, he - and maybe her parents too - also cast her away entirely from his life, as if they never existed at all. He even tried to kill us. How would that make her feel? If I were her, I... I...” You notice him trembling, his voice breaking.

You give his hand another squeeze. “Shh... I will never leave you, Saeran.”

Taking a deep breath, he continues, smiling at you, “Of course, that doesn’t justify what she did - she still hurt me and my brother very deeply. But still, I wanted to believe that she had her reasons. And more importantly...”

Tears welled up in his eyes. “I want to forgive her.”

In the empty house, Saeran left his sketch book on the table, the wind blowing the pages open, one by one. When the winds quiet down, the open page shows the finished version of a certain sketch - the pencil sketch of the woman with long, wavy hair, who is holding the hands of her small children, one on each side. They seem to be standing in a flower garden.

The two children are smiling, and so is she. A smile so bright that reaches her beautiful round eyes. A small note is written on the side. It’s Saeran’s handwriting.

Mother... Wherever you are, I hope you are happy - like I am now.

A/N: Thank you for reading! This one-shot is loosely inspired by Erased (Kayo’s mom) and The Ancient Magus Bride (Chise’s mom). If you haven’t watched either of them, they are very much recommended :)

Saeran Week Entries: Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6 | Day 7

Master list

Buy me a coffee? :)

[kristamead]

In 2019, I want to bring more books to the blog! For starters, it’s about time I compiled a list of some of my personal favorites that I think everyone should read.

What are your must reads? Favorites? Current books?

Leave a comment at the end of this post!

I’d love to hear from you (:

From fiction to non-fiction, music to manga, personal greats to graphic novels. Creating a general book recommendations list was difficult to narrow down, but I think I’ve got something for everyone. There’s definitely more where this all came from and I’m excited to continue posting about everything books.

For my (first) ~must reads~ I wanted to pick the books that I find the most compelling choices for anyone and everyone. If you’re looking for a new read, here are 15 titles and blurbs explaining why they’re worthy of your time.

I made sure to create this little notebook attachment if you want to save it for when you hit the bookstore (;

  ✽ I couldn’t make a list of my must reads without including this. Hands down one of my absolute favorites. In Americanah, you’ll meet Ifemelu – a student leaving university strikes in Nigeria for university in the US. As she grapples with her new life in the States, she starts what soon becomes a very popular blog illustrating the differences of being black in Africa and being black in the States. Throughout the book you’ll also follow Ifemelu’s school sweetheart, Obinze, and their stories together, apart, and… well you’ll see.

✽ Not too much to say here, because who hasn’t heard of Frankenstein. Of all of the assigned readings throughout school, this one has always been my favorite. There’s something about gothic literature that has a special place for me – all the dark spooky drama, I love it. I feel like everyone knows about Frankenstein, but hasn’t necessarily read the book so here’s a little nudge.

✽ Whether you’re looking for a quick read, an aesthetically pleasing page-turner, a cool artsy graphic novel for your shelves – this one is perfect. Cartoonist Barbara Stok’s Vincent van Gogh addition to the collection of autobiographical Art Series novels is super cool and worth checking out.

✽ If you’re in the mood to read something fascinating, you won’t want to put this down. In Brain on Fire you’ll hear the telling of Susannah’s mysterious true story as she recounts the frightening events as she rapidly descends in to madness and what it takes to work out her life-saving diagnosis.

✽ When I first really wanted to start making a habit out of reading, I was after something that would really make me feel something. I didn’t think it was possible for me to really laugh or cry when I read a book. Long books seemed like things that wouldn’t hold my attention for very long – I’d probably get bored and forget to finish it. Then I heard about A Little Life. This book had me on an emotional rollercoaster. I didn’t just cry, I was weeping by the time I finished it. I really got invested in Jude and his three best friend’s stories. Some of the scenes in this book are pretty traumatic and aren’t for the faint of heart so proceed with caution.

✽ Hotel Silence is an Icelandic novel about Jónas who’s at a point in his life where he feels unfulfilled, like there’s really nothing left to live for. When he decides to leave everything behind and do something about it, he reaches Hotel Silence where he finds reasons to keep going. I picked this up initially intrigued by the cover and finished it really appreciating the story and the message it left me with.

✽ This book turned my life upside down. I had heard plenty about Girls to the Front prior to finally picking it up. The Riot Grrrl movement was revolutionary in itself, but reading in to Bikini Kill, Heavens to Betsy, Bratmobile, Sleater-Kinney, and more really inspired me. Maybe it was good timing, but this book really helped me put things in to perspective.

✽ Pretend I’m Dead is one of the weirdest books I think I have in this mix. I never really jumped at this book on my shelf. It was another one of those that I picked up because I thought it looked pretty cool and the blurb on the back seemed interesting enough. This book is strange in all the right ways. You’ll meet 24-year-old Mona, who cleans houses and volunteers at a needle exchange. Throughout the book we meet different people that help Mona find her place in the world. This one is purely entertaining from start to finish.

✽ The hype surrounding this book checks out. Normally I’m not a huge fan of stories that follow families through the generations, but this one proved me wrong. In Homegoing, we follow two Ghanaian sisters as they’re separated at birth and brought up in different villages. One sister will marry into a fortunate, luxurious life in the Cape Coast Castle and the other will be imprisoned in the same castle – ultimately sold into slavery. Through eight generations you’ll read of “slavery’s troubled legacy both for those who were taken and those who stayed [and] how the memory of captivity has been inscribed on the soul of our nation.”

✽ If I didn’t already love Carrie Brownstein watching Portlandia, Hunger Makes Me a Modern Girl made me idolize her even more. Following Girls to the Front, I’ve become increasingly fascinated by all of the women in music throughout the nineties and early two thousands. Reading about Carrie’s experiences in music and her many words of wisdom made this book hard to put down. I would highly recommend this book to anyone in the mood for a really great music memoir.

✽ Speaking of music memoirs, Girl in a Band is Kim Gordon’s. It seems like the music memoirs I gravitate toward kick off at some sort of an end for the person who wrote it (this one being Sonic Youth’s final show). However, Kim takes us back to her childhood in the sixties/seventies – to the NYC art scene – Sonic Youth – to her marriage and split with Thurston Moore – motherhood – Body/Head – and more. Tons of familiar names are dropped in this one which make it all the more interesting.

✽ Next, the first and admittedly only manga I’ve ever read – Solanin. This was recommended to me as a music/band/gig lover. Reflecting back on it, this book is totally relatable and thoroughly enjoyable. You’ll meet Meiko who felt stuck in her day job, so she quits in hopes for something more. She convinces her boyfriend to do the same and start up his old band which she inevitably joins. This book will be a pleasure to read because I feel we all have been in the same spot as Meiko sometime in our life. Definitely a manga that showed me no genre is off limits.

✽ I found myself contemplatively stopping multiple times with Too Much and Not the Mood. Durga Chew-Bose’s writing really creatively inspired me and my writing. It’s the sort of book that made me feel really close to the author, like we were akin to each other. A lot of things really made sense in this one and I didn’t want it to end. It’s hard to really go in to detail with a collection of essays, but each essay had something notable to offer. Even if you don’t necessarily relate to what Durga has to say – I love this book so much I would recommend it to anyone.

  Saving some of the best for last – I have two favorites by Robin Sloan. I completely feel his writing would be enjoyable for anyone. I normally don’t really gravitate toward fantasy or magic-filled books, but these two are exactly the kind of magical realism I can immerse myself in. Everything that takes place in both stories are more imaginatively entertaining than a far-fetched reach into make-believe. Both are situated in the Bay Area (San Fransisco/Silicon Valley), which was bonus points for me because I always fantasize living around there.

Mr. Penumbra follows an out-of-work Clay Jannon as he picks up the night shift job at an eccentric bookstore with some curious clientele with rather bizarre purchasing patterns. Clay is inclined to track these books and ultimately uncovers something even more mysterious. Sourdough is about exactly what the title and this cover infer – sourdough bread. Lois Clary is your typical nine to fiver working for a robotics company – exhausted by the time she gets home. She begins to frequently order from a neighborhood restaurant with a delivery service and becomes well-acquainted with the operating brothers. With visa complications, the brothers of Clement Street Soup and Sourdough have to close shop and entrust Lois with their sourdough starter. Once Lois starts baking loaves and loaves of bread, everything begins to change as her life of technology and food begin to merge.

Ultimately, if you’re looking for a safe and cozy feel-good book to tuck in to and enjoy from start to finish – I’d argue either of these two are the way to go.

Whew, putting this together seemed like I was biting off a little more than I could chew for a bit. I really wanted to make it apparent why I enjoyed each title I mentioned here without plainly saying “HEY! I liked this and I think you would too!” BECAUSE GENUINELY I think you might too! Later on I want to try and take note of what I really enjoyed in books moving forward and writing this all out for you helped me realize why.

When reading a book I’m easily captivated and I think sometimes I spend a lot of time relishing in the luxury of it; but I realize now that really expanding on why and recording my thoughts will help me improve my explanations looking back on them. A lot of the time someone will ask me what book they should read so I’ll give them a title and forget the specifics of why I loved it so much. It’s easy to remember that I liked a book because it triggered an emotional response or I blew through it or I was in awe at points – BUT moving forward just know that I’m ready to deep dive in to some more books when it’s time.

Let me know down below what books you love

or your thoughts on any of these!

my must reads In 2019, I want to bring more books to the blog! For starters, it's about time I compiled a list of some of my personal favorites that I think everyone should read.

[give-me-writing-or-give-me-a-nap]

Rule 28: Prologue

A/N: This is long, and I haven’t started posting on AO3 yet, but I figured that I may as well post chapters here, since I post my thought-process on those chapters as well. And if I need to overhaul a couple? Well, I’m posting the second first draft, after all. That’s kinda what editing is for.

(I wasn’t kidding when I said this is long. Don’t be worried, the individual chapters won’t grow to be this big!)

This story is a story for the ages. There’s nothing specific about the story that makes it stand out. In fact, if you were to press hard enough even the people within this story probably would admit they don’t know why this story is so important to them. But it’s the little pieces along the way that make this story worthwhile. It’s the decisions that are made in the heat of the moment, the smiles shared between people who never thought they could get to where they were, and the realizations that these people were not destined for greatness, but they carved their own way into it anyway.

Rule twenty-eight is an important rule to know. In fact, rule twenty-eight is the whole reason that this story exists. It’s the rule that a man named Clayton Reeves invoked twenty years ago when supervillains came into DC and the whole city was quarantined in order for the villains to be captured. And rule twenty-eight says, “If you need help, ask.” But we’re putting the cart before the horse. Before all these people in this story came together, they had to grow. They had to know who they were, and what they could do.

And that, my dear reader, is where this story starts. It’s a story that we’ve heard all our lives--one where good triumphs over evil, where determination and a little bit of teamwork means that everything turns out all right, even if it’s never quite the same. This is the story my sister and I will tell you--it’s the story of our family. And it starts out decades ago, right before the ban on superheroes was put into place.

Ducky could barely believe the newspaper he was reading. After starting to explore the world, working alongside the British Army, and seeing the attitude most countries had about supers, moving to the States had been a breath of fresh air. A place where if he so chose, he could disclose that he had powers and no one would care. He might get called on to see if he could use his powers to help someone, as some of the other supers he knew had experienced, but that was it.

Now, he was thankful that he hadn’t told anyone about his powers yet. Because the paper he was reading had revealed that superheroes were in danger of being prosecuted for their powers and their actions that may have damaged property, or worse, human life.

Ducky was incensed. The one place he was starting to feel safe was turning against him. Just because some man running around wearing spandex had saved another man’s life when that man was trying to commit suicide, did not mean that all supers were intent of causing harm. More than that, the man who was trying to commit suicide should have been placed in hospital care, and the man who had saved him should be praised. After all, suicide was a horrible act. How could anyone condone such a thing, and furthermore, try to sue the person who thwarted the attempt?

Ducky’s mother walked in the room and said, “Careful, Donald. You know what happens when you glare too hard at someone. That newspaper might not freeze at the sight of you, but anyone you’re looking at when you’re in a foul mood will.”

With a sigh, Ducky put the newspaper down. “Sorry, Mother,” he said. “I just don’t think it’s right that everyone should be punished for the transgressions of the few.”

“No one thinks that, Donald, at least I should hope not,” his mother said gently. “But you must hold out hope. No laws have been passed yet, you can’t give up the fight before it has even begun.”

Ducky shook his head. “I know. But the way the paper is reading, it looks like this is very serious. Mother, what if we have to move again?”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous, Donald,” his mother chastised. “You have not told anyone of your powers, and you’re careful about who even sees them. We won’t have to move anywhere, provided you get that job in the medical examiner’s office at the local police station.”

Ducky smiled. “You remembered that my interview was today?”

“Of course,” his mother said. “And I wish you luck. I won’t be able to work forever, you know.”

“I would never make you do such a thing,” Ducky vowed. “I would sooner work five jobs than force you to work into your old age.”

“You’ve become a good man, Donald, and I couldn’t be happier with how you’ve grown up,” his mother said fondly. “Go on, go to your interview. I’ll head out to work soon enough, and whoever gets home first can walk the dogs this afternoon.”

Ducky shook his head fondly. “I do suppose we’ll have to be careful about who we discuss my father’s heritage with, now won’t we?” he asked.

“We always have been,” his mother simply replied.

Ducky left for the interview, and thankfully got the job. He figured it would be much safer to hide among the dead than the living, when it came to his powers. Still, it was very disheartening to find that people were talking about what to do about supers. They restricted supers’ travel, told them that they had to be careful with when and how they used their powers, before telling them that eventually, they couldn’t use them at all. And all the supers Ducky had known, either around the neighborhood or at work, slowly started to move away, where no one would know them or their past.

Eventually, the day came that Ducky had been dreading. He was filling out paperwork for his taxes, and one little box taunted him on the pages. In it, were the undeniable words printed in black, that asked, “Are you a super?” And Ducky felt bile rise in his throat as he swallowed, forced himself to breathe, and picked up his pen, checking the box that said, “No.”

Gibbs knew something was wrong the moment he walked home from school. His mother and his father were both home, waiting for him. Normally his mom would be out making sure that everyone in the city was safe, although he had to admit that she had been doing that less and less recently, and she had mostly been staying home and cleaning instead. His dad might be out back in the garage, but he might also be working at the grocer’s at this time of day. But either way, he never was waiting for Gibbs when he came home.

His mother looked like she had been crying, and Gibbs felt his stomach fill up with dread. Either one of his grandparents had died, or something equally terrible was going on, and he was not looking forward to finding out what that something was.

“Leroy,” his father said slowly, cautiously. Like he was approaching a wounded animal. “We need to have a talk.”

Gibbs’ heart started to thud in his chest. “Who died?” he said, voice barely above a whisper.

“No one died, honey. But...” his mother took a deep breath. “The government has passed a law saying that supers aren’t allowed to use their powers anymore.”

Gibbs thought his heart stopped. Everyone at school knew he hung around with the supers, even if they didn’t realize it was because he was one himself. While he could strengthen or weaken someone else’s powers, that was about all he could do, and it wasn’t immediately obvious that he had done something, unless of course the person who he had affected did something with their powers. Still, everyone he was friends with knew that he could do this. “Am I in trouble?” he asked, dreading the answer.

“No, Leroy, you’re not in trouble,” his father said. “But because everyone around here knows you and your mother are supers, we’re going to have to move.”

Gibbs felt his stomach drop. Move? He had lived here his entire life! Where were they going to go? And would he be able to talk to his friends, still, through letters? No, he immediately knew. He wouldn’t be able to write them because then they would know where he lived and could get him in trouble. What was the point of making friends, though, if he couldn’t even keep in touch with them when they were gone?

His mother came over and put a hand on his shoulder, and he wrenched it away. “No, don’t touch me!” he exclaimed. “I’m going to my room!”

Before either of his parents could get another word in, Gibbs stormed up to his room to find everything he owned packed into boxes. He felt sick. This was real, this was genuinely happening. His whole life had fallen apart with that one simple declaration. He flung himself on his bare bed and cried, vowing to himself that he wouldn’t become friends with anyone wherever they moved to. He didn’t want to get attached to anyone only for them to get taken out of his life in case they had to move again.

After some time, his mother came in, and tried to get him to talk, to no avail. His dad came in maybe an hour after that, and said softly, “You know, your mother’s worried about you, Leroy.”

Gibbs scowled.

“We don’t like this any more than you do, son. But we have to move if we want to stay safe.”

Gibbs sat up and sighed, crossing his arms. “Where are we moving to?” he asked.

“A small town in Pennsylvania,” his dad said. “I know a man there who agreed to become partners with me at the local store, so I’ll have a job there. And there will be new kids for you to make friends with.”

Gibbs pulled a face but said nothing. He wasn’t going to make friends with them. There wasn’t a point to it.

His father sighed. “We’re leaving this weekend. I’d recommend saying your goodbyes tomorrow.” And with that, Gibbs was alone in his room again.

Abby didn’t consider herself psychic. After all, she couldn’t control her powers, or speak to the dead. She just knew that she could see the future, or at the very least, possible futures, because not everything she saw came true. She knew not everyone could do this, because Luca looked at her like she was crazy when she asked him about it. She knew that her parents worried about her because of this. She could see them signing the word super back and forth in conversation when they thought she wasn’t watching.

Everything came to a head one day when she was five, almost six, and she could see in her mind’s eye that a bully was going to come up from behind her and pull on her pigtails before shoving her to the ground. The second she felt someone grab her pigtails she whirled around and socked the person in the nose. The bully howled in pain, and the boy was sent to the nurse, while Abby was sent to the principal’s office.

The principal sighed and asked her why she had punched the boy, and Abby dutifully explained that she knew the boy was going to yank her pigtails and shove her to the ground. Although judging by the look the principal was giving her, maybe she shouldn’t have used the word know.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Miss Sciuto,” the principal had scoffed. “You couldn’t possibly know that he would try and hurt you. If you did, you wouldn’t be around decent people, you would be a super, a danger to society.”

Abby wanted to give the principal a piece of her mind, but she didn’t. Instead she asked, “Well, what else would he have done if he was grabbing my pigtails?”

She left school early, close to tears, and Luca asked her what was wrong when he got home. She didn’t say anything to him, though. She didn’t want him to know the horrible things the principal had said.

Of course, when her mother cornered her afterwards, and asked her why she looked about ready to cry, Abby signed the whole story. Her mother’s lips had thinned into a line as she explained to Abby that the principal was wrong, that supers weren’t a danger to society, and that she was fine the way she was. That she couldn’t tell anyone how she knew what she knew, and that this had to stay a secret, but that didn’t make her a bad person.

Abby didn’t know how inclined she was to believe her mother, but she repeated those words over and over to herself when she could. It didn’t help much. Especially now that no one wanted to be friends with her, because she had punched the biggest bully in school. She could see all the possible future timelines where she tried to make friends, and she was turned down every time. That did absolutely nothing to make her feel better.

Still, she held out hope. Because while she couldn’t control her powers very well, she was getting better at tuning them out at inopportune times. And besides, when she thought about the far off future, and making friends then, she saw so many different things. A flash of grey hair, a dorky smile, a crushing hug, a belly laugh. And those fleeting images left her feeling like she had more than one family, and a reason to keep going.

She desperately hoped that was one future that she would get to be a part of.

Alex loved the dark. Most people found that strange, but she found it comforting. Something about the fact that people didn’t have to see her, she didn’t have to pretend to be something she wasn’t and could roll her eyes when she needed to were all great perks about being in the dark.

By far, though, the greatest appeal for her being in the dark was the fact that she could find her way around wherever she was and no one else could. There was something about that fact that filled her with a petty sort of pride at first, but at the same time, she just found it really weird, but cool.

It had started when she was six years old, and the lights had gone out in a huge thunderstorm outside her house. Her dad had naturally moved the furniture around earlier in the day to make a pillow fort, so when she called out for her mother, there was a bump and a crash and Alex clicked her tongue and shook her head.

The weird thing was, when she clicked her tongue, she could almost see her room in her mind. Not in full color, of course, but the shape of where everything was. She heard more crashing downstairs and decided to help her mom get to a flashlight, so she continued clicking her tongue, surprised but pleased to have it show her where she was in the house compared to all the objects around her.

She made it down the steps without bumping into anything once, and quickly found where the flashlights were stored in the kitchen soon after. She turned one on and went to the living room, where her mother was struggling with the blankets on the ground. “Mom?” she asked.

“Alex!” her mother exclaimed. “How did you get down here so fast?”

“I...I walked down here? I know where everything is in the house, so...” Alex trailed off with a shrug.

“But I didn’t hear you run into anything, and normally when you’re walking in the dark you stub your toe at least once!” her mother said. “And what was that clicking noise I heard?”

Alex felt a blush creep up her cheeks. “Oh...that was me,” she said. “I made the noise so that I could see where everything in the house was, so I didn’t have to stub my toes this time.”

In the dim light of the flashlight, her mother looked like she had suddenly seen a ghost. “You...did what?”

“I made the noise, and could sorta see everything around me. Not in color, but...where everything was,” Alex said.

Her mother shook her head. “Honey, tomorrow morning you need to talk with your father about this,” she said. “And don’t tell a word about it to anyone else, understand?”

“Not really, Mom. What’s going on?” Alex asked.

“Sweetheart...I think you’re a super,” her mother said softly.

Alex’s eyes widened. “You mean like...like the bad guys on the cartoons?”

“No, honey, not like that, never like that. But you’ve got a special talent that most people don’t have, and some people might feel threatened by that.” Her mother squeezed her shoulder. “Could I have the flashlight, since you can walk in the dark without it?”

Alex nodded and passed it over.

“Thanks, honey. Now go on back to bed, if you can. I’ll tell your father about this and he can talk to you about it in the morning, sound good?” her mother said.

Alex nodded and walked back up to her room, clicking her tongue the whole way. When she got back into bed and stared unseeing at her ceiling, her mind was whirring with thoughts. What this meant for her, what she was going to do about it, and perhaps most importantly to her, why she had to speak to her dad about this of all things. Did that mean...that he was a super, too?

Now that you know about the first four supers in our life, it seems necessary to clarify: just because these supers are good, does not mean all of the supers in our life are good. This story is about the good ones, the ones who fought the supervillains. There are other superheroes in our life, too. Our aunt, our great-grandmother, and our grandfather, just to name a few. But if we talked about every super in our life, we’d never get to the actual story.

These supers are also the most important to us, because they’re the ones we see the most. Even if we aren’t related to them by blood, we all matter a lot to each other. And as one of our grandfathers says, family is more than DNA. Family is what we make of it.

My brother is such a sap, but he has a point. This is a story about our family, first and foremost. It’s an important story to many, but it’s also a story about our family, which makes it that much more important to us. You’ll find out more about the other supers in our life shortly. Just know that we’ll get to the actual good, action-y bits once we’ve explained who everybody is. Bear with us.

When Tony DiNozzo figured out that he could manipulate his voice to sound like other people he knew, he thought it was the most hilarious thing in the world. Everyone thought he was someone else, and as long as they didn’t see that he was the one talking, he could have them doing whatever he wanted.

He had a grand old time messing around with this power. Sounding like his dad, his mom, some of the kids around the other estates. It took some practice, and he had to hear their voices a lot, but he could do it.

His fun all came to an end one day, however, when he was practicing sounding like his mom in his room and his dad walked in on him talking into the mirror.

“Junior, what are you doing?!” his dad asked, looking around frantically and closing the door behind him as he walked in. His face held nothing but pure horror on it.

Tony was startled about the sudden movement, and frowned in confusion when his dad walked over swiftly and knelt down in front of him. “Dad? What’s wrong?”

“You can’t do that ever again, Junior, promise me you won’t!” his dad said frantically.

His dad’s hands were digging into his shoulders, and Tony tried to twist out of his grip, unsuccessfully. “Dad, why are you so freaked out? I’m just having some fun,” Tony said. His dad was just overreacting, he thought. Just like that time that Tony had ran around and accidentally broken a vase. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal, Junior,” his dad whispered. “Not everyone can do this, and it’s dangerous!”

Tony’s eyes widened. Dangerous? He was just playing, wasn’t he? What was so dangerous about messing with his voice? “Am I gonna die?” he whispered hoarsely. He didn’t want to be in trouble, he didn’t want to be sick! He thought this was just a game!

“Not if I have anything to say about it,” his dad said. “Which is why you can never do this again! I wish you hadn’t inherited this from your grandfather...but what’s done is done.”

Tony couldn’t wrap his head around this. Why was what he was doing bad? His dad wasn’t making any sense! What was he saying? “Dad, you’re not making any sense!”

“Son...you’re a super,” his dad said.

Tony could feel the whole world stop. A super? He had seen supers on the news, and they were always bad people. People who didn’t care who lived or died, and did whatever they wanted without regard to others. Was he going to be like that?

...Were people going to think that he was like that whether or not he was?

“A...super?” he asked, completely shocked. “Can’t other people mimic voices?”

“Mimic, yes. Create an exact copy of someone’s voice? No,” his dad said. “If anyone else can do that, then they’re a super too.”

Tony thought supers were something to be feared, that they weren’t good people. That’s what everyone around him said. That they weren’t good, they just loved to destroy things, and took no responsibility for their actions. Tony couldn’t be a super! He cared too much about others! All his dad needed to do was ask anyone around the house, they’d say he couldn’t be a super! He was responsible! He couldn’t be a super! He just couldn’t!

“There’s no way,” he managed to rasp out. “I can’t be a super, there’s no way.”

His father shook his head, and gently shook Tony’s shoulders. “You have to promise me that you’ll never do that again. Promise me,” his father insisted.

Tony swallowed. “I promise, Dad.”

His father nodded and left him alone. Tony shook. He didn’t want to be taken away from everyone he knew and loved just because of his powers. If he was a super, he told himself, he wasn’t going to be one of the bad ones. He’d never use his powers if he didn’t have to. That way, he’d never have to worry about others hating him. If he was lucky, no one would find out about his powers, and he could just live a normal life. That was all he ever really wanted.

Kate found her powers really interesting. She couldn’t really see the future with them, unfortunately, not unless she focused really hard, but she could always see the past if she tried. This wasn’t just seeing any old past, though. This was seeing the past of specific objects that she held. She could see which of her peers went home and did their homework right away, or those who went to daycare and did their work then. She could see the surroundings of the object, too. So she could see the homes of her friends without ever going there, or see when a kid visited family in the hospital.

It took her awhile to pluck up the courage to tell her parents about this, though. She knew that both of them were supers, and that her brothers and sister were, too. They were hoping that she would be the normal child, the one who didn’t have to worry about the prejudice that supers had against them.

She might not have ever told them, in fact, if her brother hadn’t accidentally dropped a bracelet on the way to his room, and she picked it up, seeing that he stole it from a girl in his class. She immediately went to her parents, telling them this and how she knew it.

Her brother, naturally, was in big trouble for stealing the girl’s bracelet, and for a while, he wouldn’t let her even enter his room. She didn’t like that at all, thinking that meant he just had something to hide. Her other brothers also didn’t like the fact that she could see what they had been up to just by touching their stuff, so they might let her into their shared room, but she wouldn’t be allowed to touch anything. Only her sister, Rachel, would let her touch anything she wanted. After all, Rachel said, it’s not like Kate couldn’t tune out what she was seeing, and if Rachel wanted to keep something private, then Rachel could just ask Kate not to touch that thing.

Kate appreciated Rachel so much more after that. Having someone treat her like a human being with decency, rather than a little pest, was something that she appreciated.

Of course, Kate never told a soul outside her brothers, sister, and parents about her power. Not even the people in her extended family who were also supers, who might understand what she could do. She let the others think she was weird for enjoying playing with the toys around her grandparents’ house, seeing what sort of changes had been made over the years, the difference between the then and the now in the house, the people around it, the technology they had.

Kate had a newfound appreciation for history over the years, getting to see it in action when she touched older items, such as family heirlooms. She adored getting to see the stark difference in surroundings, and all the things the objects had seen. That is, she enjoyed it until she felt one of her brothers’ bears and saw him have a seizure before her very eyes.

Her stomach churned and she thought she might get sick as she could hear her mother scream, her father rush to the phone and shout to the person on the other side that her brother was having a seizure with a high fever. Her oldest brother was crying, practically sobbing, he was so scared. She dropped the bear in shock and her middle brother, the one she had seen having the seizure, snapped at her to leave his stuff alone, ignoring the fact that she looked like she had seen a ghost. After that, she tried to tune out her powers as much as possible. She hated the thought of learning more things like that, and while she still loved history, she decided she wasn’t going to use her powers to discover it.

Three year old Timothy McGee was scared out of his mind. His father had been yelling downstairs, bellowing something about him, and he didn’t know what in the world he had done wrong. He was hiding in his closet, hoping to stay out of everyone’s way, and away from his father’s wrath, but he was still so small and it was night outside and with the closet doors closed, he couldn’t see his nightlight.

He was trying to be quiet, but he couldn’t help but let a few sniffles loose. He hadn’t learned to cry silently yet, though he was close. He was terrified of the dark, and when he couldn’t see himself, how could he make sure that he wasn’t surrounded by monsters?

The clothes over his head were rattling because he was shaking, sitting on the closet floor in the dark, and he was bracing himself for when his father found out where he was, yelling nasty words that his mom would say that his father never meant. It was just a fact of life that this sometimes happened, and he would just have to grin and bear it.

Before he could do that for long, though, a pale orange glow appeared in Tim’s chest. He watched with wonder as it gently floated outward from his chest to rest in his palms. He had his own personal ball of light, floating in his hands! He touched it, and it felt warm. Kind of like when you got in a bath and the water’s temperature was just right.

Tim couldn’t stop the soft giggle that left his mouth when he touched the ball. It felt like the ball was telling him everything would be all right. His whole closet was bathed in a pale orange glow. He could see his shoes, his clothes, and only one shadow on the wall behind him, which he knew to be his. He could wave to it and it waved back, after all.

Of course, he didn’t take into account that while he couldn’t see his nightlight from inside the closet, a glowing ball of light would be much harder to hide from prying eyes, and soon his door was flung wide open, his father standing there, seething, on the other side. “What are you doing?!” his father hissed.

“It’s a glowing ball, Dad!” Tim exclaimed, so excited by his new discovery he didn’t notice his father’s ire.

His father smacked Tim’s hands and the ball disappeared. Tim’s jaw dropped in shock, and he was about to protest when he saw the look of pure rage on his father’s face. “Dad...?” he asked.

“You can. Never. Do that again, understand?” his father barked.

“Why?” Tim asked. He didn’t even know what he had done to get that ball to appear!

“If you show anyone that you can do that, they’ll take you away and you’ll never see me or your mother again!” his father hissed.

Tim didn’t know who “they” were, but they couldn’t be good people if they were going to take him away from his parents. He nodded his head to show that he understood what his father said.

His father pointed to Tim’s bed. “Get in bed, boy,” he said.

Tim scrambled to follow orders. His eyes widened when his father went over to his nightlight, and pulled it out of its socket. “You’re too old for this, boy. Time you learn to sleep in the dark like the rest of us.”

Not daring to protest, Tim let his father walk out and slam his bedroom door behind him, before he tried to conjure the ball again. He made a smaller one, but it made him so tired to try it that he fell asleep with it snuggled against his chest.

Ellie loved her powers. That wasn’t something she could say to anyone, let alone anyone outside her family, but it was the truest statement she had ever said. If it weren’t true, it would only be because she didn’t have adequate words to describe just how much she loved it.

Her discovery of them happened like most supers...which meant that she found out about them entirely by accident. She was daydreaming underneath her favorite tree on the farm, when her vision went out of focus in thought and suddenly snapped back in to focus, except all the colors she normally saw were gone, to be replaced with black and blue blobs of color, everything looking like a photo negative. Ellie put the book she was supposed to be reading down and stood up, walking out from under the tree’s branches. Everything was outlined in neon blue, and solid shapes had a navy-colored tint to them, but most of the world looked black.

Ellie looked up at the tree she had been sitting under, and wondered what everything would look like if she were to climb to the top. She jumped for one of the lowest branches, but was shocked when her jump took her halfway up the tree before she hit a tree branch and everything turned back to normal. “Ellie? Eleanor!” her mother was yelling.

Ellie made her way down the tree and ran to meet her mom halfway across the field. “Ellie, what happened?! I just saw a flash of blue light and you were gone!” her mother exclaimed.

“I was sitting under the tree and my vision went kinda funny,” Ellie said. “Everything turned sorta...black and blue, and I jumped up but flew into the middle of the tree. When I touched a tree branch everything went back to normal and you were calling my name.”

Her mother paled. “Are you sure?” she asked.

“Yeah, Mom. That’s what happened,” Ellie said. “Why? What’s wrong?”

Her mom wrung her hands. “Well, sweetheart, it looks like you’re a super,” she said. “And you have some sort of very unique power. Promise me that you won’t tell anyone about this, okay?”

“I promise, Mom,” Ellie said, straight away. She knew that supers were outlawed and that she could get into serious trouble if someone proved that she had powers. “I won’t even try and do it again if you don’t want me to.”

“That would make me feel so much better, thank you,” her mother said. “I’ll hold you to that promise.”

Ellie nodded, but was surprised to find herself in that same photo negative the next night when she was trying to sleep. She walked around the house and saw her older brothers playing video games downstairs, and her mom and dad talking in the kitchen, but none of them saw her. She grinned. This was quickly becoming addictive. What should she call this place? Obviously, it needed to have a name...She figured she could just call it the Negative for now and find a better name for it later, if needed.

She snuck back upstairs and was surprised that when she touched her bed, the world returned to normal. Apparently, she couldn’t touch anything in this other dimension without being pulled out of it. Oh, well. It would still be fun to travel through anyway. She couldn’t wait to test out her powers, and see exactly what she could do with them.

Jack would freely admit to anyone who asked her that she loved her powers. They would get her into trouble sometimes, yes, but she loved them. Of course, the only reason she could be as open about it as she was, would be that she was raised on a commune where superpowers were not only allowed but encouraged. She didn’t necessarily love everyone there, but she did enjoy the freedom it gave her to stretch her powers.

From a very young age, she was always asking questions she had no business asking, with knowledge about the answers that she had no business knowing. She asked her older sister what she meant when she’d think “oh, they’re so hot!�� Or she’d ask the teacher at the commune’s school why he was crying and read his mind about how his affair was failing, as well as his marriage.

Her parents always warned her that if she wasn’t careful, she’d get kicked out of the community and they wouldn’t advocate for her to be brought back in, so she’d have to watch her tongue. Little did they know that she didn’t plan on sticking around very long after she was of age. It was restricting to her, only being able to move a certain amount of distance in any direction, and she hated it, vowing to leave the second she got the chance. Even if she got to use her powers here, she didn’t have many friends, because they all knew she could read their minds and were wary of her.

She left the commune when she was nineteen. Asking very sweetly to the leader of the community how his marriage was holding up considering he was hitting on some of the girls fresh out of high school, she walked off the reservation with the clothes on her back, the shoes on her feet, and the feeling that she could take on anything in the world if only she tried.

This attitude didn’t always do her good, but she made the most out of it. She made a few friends, who let her crash at their place, and as soon as she got a job, they moved together to a big apartment, where she helped pay rent. It was nice, being able to party sometimes, go out of the city if she wanted, and never being restricted to one place for very long.

Eventually, she grew tired of living in San Francisco and moved to DC, and once again, quickly found friends who would help her pay the rent. She joined a small group of psychics in their services, and read her clients’ minds to know what she needed to say, and that was a lucrative business.

She sometimes felt guilty about tricking the clients, but really, she needed the money. She tried to not let it get to her, and she tried to not regret moving away from the commune and to a place where her powers had to be hidden. She needed to hide her powers, but this still felt immensely freer than the commune ever did. She hoped that she’d never be confined to that small a space again. It was an unrealistic goal, but a goal nonetheless, and one she made sure to go to great lengths to keep up, if she had to. That’s just who she was, and who she would always be.

Ziva knew she was useful. That was the one thing that she kept at the forefront of her mind at all times. She was useful, and she served a purpose, and therefore it was unlikely anything bad would happen to her. She knew what happened to people who weren’t useful. They faded into nothingness, they disappeared from people’s lives and nobody went looking for them, they served no one and therefore were eliminated. Ziva worried that would happen to her if she outlived her usefulness. She would fade away into memories, and nothingness, and no one would bother to look for her.

Ziva was especially useful when it came to chemistry. It was something she could pick up quickly. Give her a textbook and a day and she would be able to tell you anything that was in the book, right down to the molecular structure of whatever chemical it was you asked her about. Ziva at first thought it was convenient to know this when her power was to generate poison, but she soon realized it had nothing to do with luck and everything to do with her abilities.

Her father would rent her out to people who needed her usefulness. These people often didn’t have a moral code outside of the desire to save people who were useful to them. In that way, she supposed, she was lucky. She would never not be useful as long as she had her powers, and therefore these people wouldn’t kill her when they were done with her. She always assumed that her father would never let that happen anyway, but something about him made her occasionally doubt that.

Growing up in the Middle East left Ziva busy. Everyone wanted her poison for an assassination, or a murder of the regular kind, or even just something to make someone violently ill and incapacitated for a couple of days. Ziva made all the poisons they requested, remembering that if she weren’t useful, then there wouldn’t be much point in her going on. She longed to stay at her father’s side, and maybe one day gain his approval.

Her confidante in all of this was her half-brother, Ari. He was always disgusted with what their father would force her to do, and he’d say that their father was a despicable man, who no one would miss once he died. After all, the only use he had was giving the both of them their powers. Ziva always urged Ari to take the words back, fearing that if someone overheard them, Ari would be taken away. But he never did take it back, not after their sister Tali was killed in a bombing. He blamed the whole world for her death, but he especially blamed their father, and Ziva worried about when Ari would stop idly blaming people for his misfortunes and start hurting others because of it.

When Ari attacked their father and ran, Ziva naturally followed him. Even if it meant her father wouldn’t approve of her, Ziva cared more for Ari than she did anyone else in her family after Tali died.

Ziva found Ari in America, which she found more than a little strange. After all, a lot of Western countries, including America, had banned the use of superpowers. But, she considered, it might be for the best. If Ari went to a place where he couldn’t use his powers, he couldn’t lash out at anyone and everyone he hated. She hoped that the reason he came here was to go somewhere where neither of their “services” would be called on, and not because he was going after whoever he blamed for Tali’s death.

Clayton was seven when he found out about his powers. And in this case, found out about his powers meant less teleporting across the world or discovering that he could make his friends stretch farther than they could otherwise with their superpowers, and more that not everyone in the world could hear any language at all, in the world, made up or real, and automatically know what was being said.

He didn’t tell anyone about his “newfound” ability, knowing that supers were not widely accepted, and he was ostracized by his foster family enough. If they found out he had powers, they’d send him back to the orphanage, and no one would ever want to adopt him, because his powers would be on record. Instead, he eavesdropped.

His foster parents preferred to talk about how stupid and incompetent he was in French. His so-called “friends” at school would mutter what a weirdo he was in Spanish. And he used his abilities to sign to the one kid who thought he was an okay guy, who was Deaf and preferred signing to trying to talk and read lips.

Still, not having a moment to himself without someone trying to alienate him in some way or form left him desperate for any sort of escape he had. And as soon as he was eighteen, he left his abusive foster parents’ house and never looked back. He felt bad for the kid who would get put there next, but there was nothing he could do about it now.

He got a small job, enough for rent just outside the city. Any money he earned that didn’t go to basic necessities, went to the pub on the nearest street corner, where he would lose himself down any bottle the bartender would give him.

Everyone there knew him by name, and a few knew when he would be coming from work or not by the way he dressed. He knew that was a problem, but couldn’t bring himself to care. Not when he finally had an escape, not when he could just go to bed and fall asleep and not remember his miserable nights alone.

Soon after he had turned twenty, though, he came across a problem. People in the bar were giving him funny looks and telling him that he got his languages mixed up when he was intoxicated. Sometimes he’d speak English, sometimes French, and once he even had a conversation with someone in Russian, and since when was he a polyglot?

Clayton decided there and then that he was going to stop drinking. If for no one else, then for himself and the sake of his safety. He didn’t want to be found out as a super, that would basically guarantee that he was dead. So he sobered up, saved his money, and applied for a green card to America. They didn’t have any more accepting a position on supers than England did, but there was no chance of anyone knowing who he was, and there were plenty more places to hide.

And he didn’t take this second chance lightly, either. He applied for citizenship, got a job as a local translator for pamphlets, and generally kept his head down. He wasn’t going to risk being sent away just because he could speak any language. That was about the stupidest reason ever to get arrested. When everyone let him be, he felt like he could finally exhale, but it didn’t last for long.

Nick Torres was never alone, and he hated it. Whether he was at home, at school, or outside somewhere between the two, there was always someone with eyes on him. He didn’t mind when the eyes were from his little sister Lucia, but if they were the neighborhood kids, or the bullies at school, or even his parents, it would drive him stir-crazy to have everyone observing him. Almost like he was a ticking time bomb, and no one knew when he was going to go off, so they were watching for when they needed to take cover.

Being that explosive was not a fun thing. Yes, he had a temper. Yes, sometimes it got the better of him. But in times like this, where he had everything under control, he wished that everyone could just mind their own business and let him do what he wanted. He wasn’t stupid enough to go into the gangs’ territories a couple blocks away, so why couldn’t he walk down to the grocery store and pick up some eggs for dinner by himself?

He knew why that would never be allowed by his parents, and that was because he antagonized all the bullies at his school, and they were worried he would actually be that stupid and go by the gangs to antagonize them. No matter what he told them, his actions would always speak louder than words.

But he was going through a lot at the moment. The girl he thought he was going to marry had just been diagnosed with cancer, and her survival odds didn’t look great. He had been snarling more than normal, not wanting anyone else to be as miserable as he was, and as such he had a much lower tolerance for bullies than normal.

Sometimes, he would stay after school to practice basketball on the court, shooting hoops on autopilot and letting his brain think on its own. He was doing just that when a group of bullies from several different grades came over to him, looking like the last thing they wanted to do was talk. Nick was only in the ninth grade, but he wasn’t naive. He knew trouble when it was coming towards him. That didn’t mean he was going to roll over for these guys, though. “Do you mind?” he asked, sparing them only a side glance. “I’m a bit busy, here.”

“Actually, we do mind, Torres,” the head bully sneered. “Who gives you the right to mess with us?”

“Well, I don’t know. Who gave you the right to mess with all the kids you decide to pick on?” Nick asked, throwing another shot into the hoop and running up to catch the ball. He turned around, ball in hand, to find the bullies starting to circle him, like wolves tracking down prey.

His stomach started to sink as the bullies came closer. He could feel the sun burning his skin, the sweat trickling down his neck from his exercise. His muscles tensed up, and with no where for the energy to go but outward, he shoved the head bully away from him, making him fly backwards and land on his backside five feet away. Did I just?! But...I couldn’t have! I’m not a super! Nick stared in shock at how far he had pushed the bully.

He didn’t have long to be shocked about this development, however, because now the other bullies were coming towards him, and fast. He dropped the ball and let it bounce away, muscles tensed before he started to pummel anyone who got too close to him. As he fought, he could feel the sun burning into him, and he remembered his biology class, how plants could turn sunlight into energy, and it clicked in his mind, that’s what he was doing.

As soon as all the bullies were on the ground, Nick took his book bag and took his ball and ran, using the sunlight to power his legs to keep moving, even when they were screaming for him to stop. He ran all the way home, and refused to tell his mother how he scraped up his knuckles. The only person he told was Lucia, and he made her promise not to tell anyone else.

The bullies all left Nick alone from then on, and wouldn’t pick on anyone if he was there to see. Well, good. He only got his powers from UV light, but they didn’t have to know that. All they had to know was that he was freaky strong, and wouldn’t take them lying down.

Jimmy Palmer had a secret. It wasn’t a little secret, but it wasn’t something that he was exactly going to be killed over. He was a very, very reckless child. He would run after animals into the woods, or he’d climb trees that were a bit too high and a bit too dead to be climbed in, or he’d forget to look both ways before crossing the street, because he was in the middle of an epic game of tag, and he didn’t intend to lose.

Most of his friends when he was growing up knew this. They found it funny how sometimes he might sprain his ankle, but not learn his lesson and two weeks later do the exact same thing that made him sprain his ankle in the first place. It made his parents worry sick about him, and he never understood the big fuss. After all, he hardly ever broke a bone, and he never died from what he was doing, so what was the big deal?

Jimmy was a super, but he never told anyone, not even his parents, what his power was. After all, the last place you would look for a super was in a reckless child whose parents had no clue what their son could do if he really tried. So he hid in plain sight, made friends all throughout his years in elementary school, and was generally well-liked by the school’s population, even if he was an egghead who didn’t know his own limits.

The secret Jimmy had was like the Mother of All Secrets. Everyone had a MoAS, but Jimmy’s could change the entire world if people knew it. So he resolved to never let it slip.

Middle school for Jimmy meant that he got quieter, more withdrawn, and more awkward. He was still mostly liked by his peers, but they found him more strange than endearing, and those who weren’t close to him mostly left him to himself and his good friends. As the years went on, and Jimmy met knew people, he would tell them stories about when he was a kid, but they rarely believed him. After all, how could this quiet guy run after a fox in the middle of the day into the woods, and not come back with a single scratch or bite mark?

He let them think his stories were made up, despite them all being true. After all, if they thought he was just exaggerating, it kept his secret from coming to light. And that was the safest thing for him and his family.

Now he had just finished his final year of college, one year ahead of his peers, he noted with some pride, and he applied for medical school, got in, and resolved to work for the local ME when he wasn’t doing his classes. After all, his dream was to help find justice for the dead.

His new boss, Doctor Mallard, didn’t seem like the type to dismiss his childhood stories, but Jimmy knew he suspected something whenever Jimmy would talk about them over a body on the examination table. One day, of course, Jimmy said too much and Doctor Mallard figured out Jimmy’s secret. Not that he ever told anyone. He respected Jimmy too much to tell the world he was a super. So whenever “Ducky” (as the detectives called him) spoke to Jimmy in hushed tones, everyone just assumed they were discussing something that others shouldn’t be privy to. Everyone suspected it had something to do with supers, but no one said anything to them.

Jimmy Palmer had a secret. But he wasn’t the only one.