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msmarvelwrites · 4 years

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The Winter Ghost - Part 4

Info: A Devastating car crash causes you to lose your memory and start over. The only thing left in the wreckage was the horrific nightmares which plagued your mind. If you knew what today would entail you would have just stayed in bed. But you didn't and because of that, everything you knew was about to change.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Y/n

Warning: language maybe?

W/c: 3.5K (sorry not sorry)

A/n: Shuri is probably one of my favourite characters in the MCU so please enjoy her sass ❤️ Thank you again to @cutie1365 for editing and making this readable 💕

You sat in the cold steel lab, next to a pile of machines that whirled in the silent room. Small wires attached to your temples and hooked into the computers. You didn't know how you imagined Shuri, but a small 16 year old girl was definitely not it. This was who was going to be prying and prodding through your brain? I guess this is how S.H.I.E.L.D felt the first day you showed up. The thought made you stifle a laugh under your breath and wish you could only remember.

Every 10 minutes after scanning the hologram which hovered just above the desk she would stop, and ask if you were okay to continue. You would nod, unable to actually create coherent words. The process of regaining your memories was excruciating, to say the least. Shuri made it better though. She was bubbly and kind. Her voice was bright and reminded you of the wind chimes your mother used to hang on the porch.

Another blast of electricity surged through your brain, causing you to double over and yelp.

"Okay, okay, that's enough for today." She announced, crossing the room and placing a hand on your shoulder. You flinched her away desperately trying to focus away the pain.

"No. Keep going." You gasped, steadying your breath.

"Y/n, we have to take this in steps. If we dig too deep we can risk serious brain damage, or worse." She explained. You looked up at her concerned face, tears welled in your eyes but you quickly wiped them away.

"Dr. Shuri, please-”

"It's Shuri. Just Shuri. And no, I’m serious. I think we've retrieved some core memories, but there's no way to be sure." She spoke over you, turning her computer off and carefully removing the wires from your head. You winced as she pulled them out, but you were finally able to breathe right again. “We’ll just have to keep tabs on ya’.”

"How will we know what I remember?" You asked, watching her pack her equipment away.

"You won't," She stated, placing a small alcohol wipe in your hand. You blotted the small incisions the wires left behind. Gross.

"But, we'll keep doing bi-weekly checkups and monitor your behavior. There could be trigger words that Hydra has hidden in your brain. The last thing we need is you going all ‘Winter Soldier’ on our asses." Shuri giggled to herself and patted you on the back. You tried to hide the scream of pain that erupted from her contact. You suppressed a cry and smiled as best you could.

"Thank you Dr- um, Shuri. Seriously, I can't tell you what this means to me." You corrected, getting up and following him out of the room.

"Anytime. This is my new specialty I guess. I think I should consider updating my resume to super soldier fixer-upper."

You walked through the compound slowly, still unsure where everything was. Steve had assigned you a bedroom on the top level, close to Agent Romanoff, or Nat as she had asked you to call her. She and a few other former Avengers occasionally stayed in Wakanda after everything went south in Nigeria.

You hadn't really been asked if you wanted to stay here, but Nat explained that Hydra was keeping close tabs on you. It would be safer for you here while you remembered what it is they needed.

As you continued through the hallways you happened upon a large floor to ceiling mirror. You tried to not look, but your curiosity got the better of you.

Your hair was a knotted mess yesterday morning, so you decided to braid it back. Now, long strands fell from it, curling around your face and neck adding to your dishevelment. Dark circles bloomed under your y/e/c and reminded you of the sleep you so desperately needed. The faded Stark Industries tee-shirt hung loosely on your frame over the black elastic biker shorts Nat had given you to borrow. She promised she'd take you back to your Brooklyn apartment at some point to collect your own clothes. You huffed, trying and failing to tuck the few strands that fell from your loose braid back, only having two more shake loose.

As you rounded the corner you noticed two large metal doors. Loud thuds and grunts were protruding out from behind them. The closer you got, the better you could see through the small window.

Nat was sending a graceful roundhouse kick to Bucky's neck. He stumbled taking a few steps back but ultimately gained his balance again. You swallowed a gasp. Bucky was close to twice Nats size. You watched in amazement as she ducked between his legs, sending a swift elbow to the crook of his knee. He immediately dropped.

Quietly you slipped through the gym door, careful not to disturb the two while they circled each other slowly.

You watched in awe as Bucky threw a punch with his metal arm at Nat, who skillfully dodged it, grabbing his wrist and twisting. With the added momentum she swung onto his shoulders, still grasping his arm and yanked him backwards onto the mat with a loud thud.

"Holy shit!" You gasped, and quickly regretted it as the two super heros looked up. You knew they were on your side, but damn. You didn't know how anyone picked a fight with either of them. They both looked so venomous. Nats face softened when she registered your wide eyed gaze.

"She lives!" The Black Widow announced, laughing as she grabbed a towel, patting her sweat slicked face. Bucky stood then slowly, watching you intently like he was waiting for something.

You grin sheepishly and nodded. "That she does. Damn, Mr. Rogers wasn't kidding around. I still feel like I'm vibrating." You chuckled.

"Remember anything?" Bucky spoke suddenly, watching you carefully. You shook your head.

"No, not really. Shuri said it'll take time. That she recovered something, but-" you huffed, a little frustrated and body still sore. "I got this wicked headache instead." You finished. Bucky chuckled and ran his metal hand through his dark hair.

"So," You began, approaching the sparring mat, "do you think you could show me how to do that?" You ask Nat, referring to her insane fighting skills. Her eyes sparkled and she laughed softly.

"I don't know Y/n," she motioned for you to step onto the mat, "think you got what it takes?"

Her dazzling grin dropped almost as fast as her fist flew through the air. You could tell instantly that the blow would miss you entirely, but in that moment something snapped. You closed your eyes and you felt your whole body burst into flames. Images flashed through your mind and when you opened your eyes, everything moved in slow motion.

You looked to your left, watching the assassin's fist fly closer and closer. You tried to take a step back, but your body seemed to switch into auto pilot. In one smooth motion you blocked her wrist, and almost as fast jabbed her side with a harsh blow.

Natasha stumbled back, stunned. You looked down at your hands, like it was the first time you were actually seeing them. Holy shit.

“Oh God, Nat. I didn't mean to!"

Another fist flew at you, to which you ducked, dropping into a squat position you kicked your right leg out. In the same motion you twisted your body, sweeping your foot across the mat and taking Nat down as she gasped. You looked up at her, eyes wide and panting. What the-

"Fuck." Bucky finished your thought. Natasha rubbed her hip in discomfort as she reached for Bucky's hand, pulling her up.

"What the hell was that?" She challenged. You stood, stumbling back a few paces and raising your hands in surrender. What the hell had just happened?

"I- I don't know..." You stuttered, "Nat, I'm so, so sorry I-'' she waved her hand stopping you.

"I'm fine, don’t ever apologise for kicking someone's ass... Maybe you remembered something after all?" She spoke, raising a perfectly arched eyebrow sarcastically.

"My turn." Bucky rumbled. You would have frozen at the darkness in his voice, but your instincts kicked in. The soldier leaned back on his right foot, sending his left rocketing through the air and towards your face. Fire erupted through your body again, startling you awake.

Gracefully you wrapped your arm around Bucky's impending kick, absorbing the blow. His sheer strength made you stumble back a little, but you quickly slid back into the routine.

"Попался” Gotcha’, you smirked. Bucky looked at you, mouth slightly agape.

“What did you just-” He didn't have a chance to finish as you twisted your body, bringing your elbow up delivering it down onto his shoulder with a loud crack. You finished him off with a swift kick through his legs, tackling him to the floor.

"Ow," he mumbled through jagged breaths. You gawked at him in disbelief, holding his hands above his head, straddling the super soldier's waist. Bucky shifted slightly, realising the compromising position you both were in.

"Gotta hand it to ya, punk. That one actually tickled." He chuckled, as you removed your hands from his wrists. He noticed your body was still unmoving, eyes almost glassy. Carefully he tapped your thigh, knocking you back into reality. You physically shook your head, trying to center yourself.

"What happened?" You asked, still straddling Bucky. He looked at you quizzically, trying to read your face for any answers, but came up short.

"Y/n, I think we need to talk to Shuri again." He offered, picking you up by the waist and helping you off the mat.

"Yeah, I think that's probably a good idea." You said, staring wide eyed at the two former assassins.

When you entered the lab, you noticed Shuri was still there. She paced around the room, picking up sheets of paper, scanning them quickly before she looked at the hologram.

"Not possible." She breathed, still unaware of your presence. Bucky cleared his throat, alerting the engineer to the three of you.

"Holy crap!" She jolted. "Hasn't anyone ever told you not to sneak up on a girl with an endless arsonal of deadly weapons before?" Shuri clutched her heart, steadying her breath.

"No, actually." You voiced. Buck coughed trying to cover his laugh.

"Listen, babe. It's important," Nat started, entering the lab further and hoisting her petite figure onto an examining table. "Y/n just handed Bucky his tight ass without breaking a sweat, so we were just wondering... What the fuck?" She emphasized that last word with a raised brow and wide eyes. Bucky scoffed and rolled his eyes as if to say 'she hit you too.' You thought it was probably the cutest thing in the world, watching the former assassin stuff his hands into his pockets and glare at her like he was a kid.

"Y/n, how do you feel?" Shuri spoke, ignoring Natasha, which didn't bother her as she swung her legs daintily off the table.

"Um, fine I think. I'm a little tired but besides that-"

"What's happening here?" Captain America suddenly boomed, storming into the lab. You flinched, startled by his loud voice. Both Nat and Bucky look totally unfazed while Shuri only rolled her eyes. I guess Captains mood swings were a normalcy around here.

Natasha explained the situation to him while he passed the room, arms crossed and a scowl permanently glued to his face.

"How could you let this happen?" Steve finally barked, pointing an accusatory finger at Shuri. You thought if he had spoken to you like that you would melt away, but the small teen only scoffed and brushed him off.

"Hold up, Boomer. I didn't let anything happen. You brought her to me." She started, looking at you almost apologetically. "You told me to find Y/n's memories. That's what I'm doing. Unless you think you could do a better job with your zero years of education and that dinner plate you call a 'shield?'" She scoffed and went back to looking at her computer.

“You made my shield” Steve huffed under his breath.

“Uh, no. How dare you? I would never, the thing is incredibly impractical. I did make it better though.” Shuri mocked the Captain. Jeesh, the girl truly had balls, that's for sure.

"How do you feel?" Steve questioned. It took you a solid five seconds to realise he was looking at you.

"Oh, I'm fine. Yeah, I'm fine. Just really confused." You mumbled, terrified you were going to set the Super Soldier off again.

“Well I can shed some light, would that be okay with you, old man?” Shuri spoke sarcastically to Steve. He only rolled his eyes and waved his hand motioning her to carry on.

“I ran your blood through a few tests. I don't know how I didn’t see this before. I mean it's right in front of us. You failed the drug test. By like, a lot. Which I thought was weird but to each their own ya know? Anyways, I looked into it and your body is literally emanating radiation, which got me thinking. The only people I know who literally sweat steroids are-”

“She’s a Super Soldier.” Steve interrupted. You stared at him wide eyes and back to Shuri. This wasn't possible. You didn't feel super. Actually you felt pretty crappy, to say the least.

“Not exactly. At least, Y/n doesn't have the same chemical compound as you. Whatever serum she's drugged up on, it's not one I've ever seen before.” Shuri finished, holding a test tube of your blood up and analysing it. You felt like you were going to throw up. You didn't know if it was the chaos of the situation or the fun new information that past life Y/n was a steroid junky but it was enough to make you lightheaded. You stumbled back a few paces, uneasy on your feet. A strong arm wrapped itself around your waist, steading you before you could fall. You looked up at Bucky's warm smile suddenly feeling a little more at ease. Gotcha. He mouthed, and you took a deep breath. I am calm, I am okay… Just, breathe.

Ten minutes later and a bunch of arguing the room finally stilled. Shuri explained how she suspected Hydra had a weapon similar to the super-soldier serum, only more complex. The whole thing made very little sense to you.

"Why would Hydra inject me with the serum?" You argued, skeptically.

"Because, they physically couldn't make another drop. Y/n destroyed the lab with all their research. The one they gave to her was the first of its kind. It's flawed and unpredictable. Without her cooperating, recreating a serum was impossible. However, if they injected it into our friend here, they could monitor how it developed in a controlled environment." Shuri explained.

"So, you think the serum they gave me is their super secret weapon?" You asked, stunned. Shuri only nodded.

“You're the blueprint…” Bucky mumbled under his breath. You didn't know if he had meant for you to hear as no one else in the room seemed to notice he had even spoken.

"And you're sure it's in Y/n's system?" Nat asked, her eyes scanning over you.

"I mean, I guess there's only one way to know for sure. I have this…theory. I could be wrong, but I highly doubt it… Y/n, I think it's time you meet our resident teenage witch."

You followed the team into what looked they're common room. Plasma TVs hung on the walls and large floor length windows lined the room.

There sitting on the long couch was a girl. She looked to be about your age, maybe a little younger. You watched as red ribbons of electricity shot out of her hands and through the air like dangerous waves. The small tv remote hovered mid air as her red tendrils held it.

"Maximoff, front and center!" Steve announced loudly, startling the girl causing her to rocket the remote through the air. It flew past you, an inch from your face as it crumbled into the wall behind you.

"Holy shit!" You screamed, ducking as a delayed reaction and holding your hands over your head.

"Language..." Steve lectured under his breath. You mouthed a 'sorry' and stood up again.

"Didn't mean to startle you, I just have someone I'd like you to meet. He gestured towards you as her eyes followed.

"Hi." You spoke quietly. She smiled kindly and spoke apologetically, "Hi. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to throw electronics at you." She shrugged.

"Occupational hazard when you're around me. It's kinda' my thing." You chuckled at that.

"Perfect. Now that you've met... Wanda, will you please fight Y/n." Shuri spoke dryly. The girl, Wanda, looked from Shuri to you.

"Um, no?" You blurted looking at Shuri absolutely terrified. There was no way you were fighting this chick. She just fired a remote at your head with the ease and strength of a shotgun. Hell no.

"Please, you won't hurt her. It's for science." Shuri shrugged, but you weren't sold.

"Yeah, that's not happening. There's gotta be another way we can test your theory." You shook your head frantically. Wanda looked slightly intrigued, crawling across the couch and perching on the arm rest.

"What exactly would you have me do, Shuri?" She questioned, looking wickedly dangerous. The small engineer grinned, crossing her arms over each other.

"Do what we practiced." She cooed, dryly.

The team behind you took a few steps back. You hadn't realised they had deserted you until it was too late. Wanda created a small red blast of electricity in her palm. You watched as she shaped it like a snowball, carefully dropping it between her hands. You watched in awe as it sizzled and sparked between her fingers.

“I really, really don't like this idea.” You voiced, looking back at Steve and Shuri, who only watched in anticipation.

You turned back to face her as the energy surged towards your body. Before it could explode you crossed your arm over your face protecting yourself from its inevitable blow. But it never came.

Carefully you opened one eye, and then the other. More people now gathered in the common room. You looked around at their faces, landing on Bucky who, unlike his teammates looked horrified. You looked down at your hands then, and what you saw made you choke out a gasp.

Your whole body was glowing with the same red electricity Wanda has thrown at you. Your eyes darted up to her and she just stared at you in shock.

"What the hell is happening right now?" You yelled, terrified and feeling like your whole body was vibrating.

"Exactly what I thought would happen. You've absorbed Wanda's powers." Shuri spoke matter of fact, like this kind of thing happened every day. I guess with these people it did.

"Y/n, are you okay?" Bucky demanded. He felt powerless as he watched the Witch’s energy circled around you. You nodded, reassuringly. Though you didn't know if you believed it.

"Okay, what do I do. I don't want this-" you reached your arms out and with a bright flash of red, the electricity exploded from your hands, throwing Wanda off her seat and hurling her backwards. Quickly she caught herself mid air before she crashed through the window, hovering above the floor.

"Holy crap" She screamed, checking she was all in one piece "I sincerely apologise to anyone I've done that to. That really stings." She winced as she landed back on the ground.

"Shit, I didn't mean to. I'm so sorry!" You crossed the room, making sure she was okay.

Wanda laughed, "You sure do make a great first impression." She spoke sarcastically. You half smiled, not knowing how you could help.

"I guess that's kinda' my thing." You spoke, causing a dazzling smile to dance across Wanda's pink lips.

"This is so exciting! I’m going to run back to the lab and run a few more tests. Obviously you aren't able to control how you absorb your opponents powers. You're going to have to practice before we can try that again." Shuri spoke, tearing you away from your exchange with Wanda.

"I am not doing that again." You argued, horrified that you almost chucked Wanda out a plate glass window.

"Sure you are. Come now, science experiment, let's see what else you can do." You huffed and followed Shuri’s voice.

..…………

A/n: as always, feedback it welcomed!! Let me know what you think 💕💕💕

@projectcampbell

#bucky fic #bucky barnes #bucky barns x reader #bucky x steve #bucky barns imagine #bucky x y/n #marvel smut #marvel fanfic idea #marvel fanfiction #marvel #winter solider fanfiction #princess shuri #wanda maximoff

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deafwestnewsies · 5 years

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stop and stare

The Losers must keep living after the summer of ‘58. Living and breathing the air that was stolen from the victims of that horrible monster.

richie x eddie, bill x stan

read it also on my ao3 and ff.net!

This town is colder now, I think it's sick of us

It's time to make our move, I'm shakin' off the rust

There were whispers now. Whispers that Eddie just couldn’t seem to shake.

As he walked through the pharmacy aisles, searching for the bandaids with the little prong things on the end that wouldn’t fall off when he moved his elbows, he heard the first whispers. “That little Kaspbrak boy. Over there. So tragic, what he did to his mother.” Eddie’s back stiffened at the other woman’s titters as the pair of old ladies walked away from the cough syrups. Not even knowing who they were, he glared at their backs until they strolled into the next aisle. Swiping whatever bandages were in front of him and stowing them in his front pocket, Eddie stormed out of the store and into the alley behind it.

Bill’s expectant gaze met him first as he held out his hand. Eddie put the box of gauze down and stood near the wall, almost leaning, but not willing to risk the germ exposure. Everyone watched with bated breath as Bill’s steady hands cleaned out the gash in Mike’s arm and began dressing the wound. His strong hiss of pain made Eddie jump and cover his eyes, making him feel four years old again. He felt a pair of arms wrap around him, covering his face from the scene and murmuring It’ll be okay, Eds. He’ll be okay. Not having the willpower to correct the boy on the juvenile nickname, Eddie relaxed slightly into Richie’s chest and tried not to wince at the wimpers coming from Mike.

Henry Bowers might’ve been gone, but that did not mean there were other gruesome bullies waiting anxiously to take his place. Bullies who were just as mean (because when there wasn’t a maniac clown to deal with, there were tenth graders) and just as vicious (because Derry was cruel that way) and just as armed. This time it meant waiting for Mike on the path he always took into town with a barrage of insults and a serrated blade. When he retold the tale later, clutching his bleeding arm and staining his work boots, Mike said that they called him names that even Mike wasn’t really allowed to say, that they had heard he was one of the crazy kids who claimed they were attacked by a demon. If you want something to be scared of, boy, we’ll give it to you. Ain’t no monster under your bed. They had whispered it, right before slashing his arm wide open.

That was the latest town gossip, and the whispers that seemed to invade every moment of Eddie’s waking life. A group of seven kids emerged from the decaying house on Neibolt street, bloody yet victorious, when eight had entered. They would tell anyone who would listen that they fought off a killer clown, the same that had killed Betty Ripsom and ripped off Georgie’s arm and left him for dead. Instead of believing the children, everyone made snide remarks about the poor Bowers, both father and son dying under mysterious and inexplicable circumstances. Of course, the initial blame was handed directly to the Loser’s Club, but as the investigation went on they found that the blood on their clothes belonged only to each other and the fingerprints on the knife used to kill Detective Bowers didn’t have a match. They still spent a night in jail. One cold, dark night with only one another to keep warm.

So no, it wasn’t a surprise when Mike came staggering up to the Aladdin, where they had all planned to meet. Each of them had been attacked at different times, some getting it worse than others, (people liked to pick on the color of Mike’s skin, the way Eddie blushed when he walked into the boy’s locker room, Ben’s size. The list could go on.) and every time, they banded together and stood as a united front. There would always be a small voice in the back of their minds, however. The same that played in Eddie’s as he clung to Richie, trying to be strong for Mike’s sake. Maybe this town is as sick of us as we are of them.

I've got my heart set on anywhere but here

I'm staring down myself, counting up the years

Richie began making the plans absentmindedly, mostly as a way of escape during boring classes and sleepless nights. As soon as he turned eighteen, he would turn on his heels and run from Derry, run from all of the monsters who lived here, run from the clown and his parents and everyone who had ever called him useless. He didn’t quite know where he would run to, but the maps in his mind always led somewhere bright, where it didn’t rain quite as often and he could wear his shorts during the winter time.

At sixteen, he realized that his daydreams could all be tracked with some scraps of paper, red yarn, and a bulletin board, so he began doing exactly that. Behind a poster on his wall, Richie began sketching out the Great American Roadtrip (Richie Tozier Edition). First, he would work on making sure the truck he had inherited was reliable enough to drive across the country.

He began working part time in the town’s auto shop, picking up spare pieces wherever he could and making some half-hearted tips. The only reason Mr. Kurtz, the head mechanic, had hired the boy was that for the most part, he lived oblivious to any town gossip. All of Richie’s coworkers avoided him like the plague and tried to whisper warnings to Kurtz when he first began the job. Staring curiously at the gangly boy who kept his head down and did all of his work in a prompt fashion, the man waved all of the rumors away. “Leave the boy be,” he’d respond. “Ain’t nothing wrong with a tale to tell.”

With a decent engine and enough money to make it wherever he was planning on going, Richie began looking for work that he could do while he was out there. He wasn’t half bad at the whole mechanic thing, and once he was nearing eighteen he began to consider it very seriously. Richie, ever the trashmouth, could still make whole crowds hysterical with a well-timed joke and a fake voice or two, but he didn’t dare tell anyone that he almost wished he could do that for a living. Maybe that was why he finally settled on Los Angeles, a place that people would speak of in hushed voices and stars in their eyes. It was seemingly perfect, except for one minor detail.

It was dirty. Not that that bothered Richie, of course, he once had a record of not showering for three weeks and two days. No, this would bother someone else, someone who had always been in the back of his mind, someone who Richie just couldn’t imagine living without so he put him on this metaphorical trip, right alongside him. Eddie Kaspbrak and Richie Tozier had done everything together since the beginning of time, and now Richie was going to ask him to do one more thing that would change their life completely. So Richie set off to do the final thing on his checklist: Ask Eddie to throw his entire life away and be reckless, for the first time in his tiny, asthmatic life.

The knock on the Kaspbrak’s door seemed too loud, too forceful, and he winced when Sonya, Eddie’s evil hag of a mother, answered the door. “Hey-y-y-y, Mrs. K. Eddie ‘round?” Her frown was enough to tell him exactly where Eddie was (down at the Barrens) and how she felt about it. (She hated it.) “See ya later Sonya!” Richie shouted as he turned and began running in the right direction. Her grumbling was lost on deaf ears as he could only hear the wind whistling through his hair and the sun beating down.

By the time he arrived, Richie was sweaty and completely out of breath. He wasn’t sure why he had run, maybe it was just the feeling in his chest that if he didn’t ask Eddie right now he’d explode. So when he saw Eddie peacefully reading a book on top of a blanket and slathered in sunscreen, Richie also couldn’t explain the way his heart fell into his feet.

“Richie?” Eddie called, book sliding to the floor. He smiled so warmly at Richie that he had to remind himself to move his feet, lift them off the ground, one by one.

He settled on the ground next to him. “Hey Eds. I’ve got somethi-”

“Don’t call me Eds.”

The sentence that Eddie had said before, maybe a thousand times over, made Richie’s throat ache with familiarity. Suddenly he felt twelve again, with glasses too big for his face and feelings that he would never be allowed to talk about with anyone. “Eds. Please listen to me.” Eddie made a displeased noise, but leaned his chin in his hands and gazed up at Richie with wide, expectant eyes. “I’ve been thinking,” He began, nervously pushing at the bridge of his glasses. “That I can’t stay here. Derry, I mean. There’s just too much shit to remember and now that we’re older and everyone still manages to hate us- and I hate them, I think. I don’t wanna ever spend another moment here if I don’t have to. So uh, I’m leaving. Four days, to be exact.”

Eddie’s eyes kept widening, kept growing at a pace that was almost worrisome. “Four days?” He whispered. “Four days and you leave me? How could you, Rich! We swore we would never-”

“I want you to come with me.” Richie cut his rambling off.

“No. Absolutely not.” Eddie said it with an air of finality that made Richie almost unwilling to fight back.

“Eds…” He almost whispered.

They were so close, their noses only inches apart and staggered breathing intertwining. Eddie turned away suddenly, looking at a spot that was somewhere over the creek. “Don’t call me Eds. I’m not moving away with you, Tozier. My whole life is here. My college is here. My mom is here. It’s selfish of you to even think I’d go.”

He felt his heart splinter into a million pieces. “Okay.” Richie said dumbly. “Thank you for giving me my answer.” Eddie’s sniff filled the air, and Richie realized he wasn’t the only one on the brink of tears. “Eddie?” The smaller boy’s head turned slightly, still not making full eye contact. “Please tell me one more thing. Did you ever… did you ever-” He cut himself off before he let his trashmouth be the death of him again. The insinuation was enough. Eddie understood.

It was a bold move, but one Richie had to make before he left for good.

Eddie’s eyes swept over the creek one last time as a perfect tear rolled down his cheek. “No,” he whispered softly. “I don’t think I did.”

Richie left four days early on the Great American Roadtrip (Richie Tozier Edition). He was set on anywhere but here, but he left his heart in a diddly little town in Maine, on a creekbed.

Steady hands just take the wheel

Every glance is killing me

His knuckles were turning white with force as he gripped the leather steering wheel, trying desperately not to crash the car. The nerves of driving back into his hometown were practically choking him, ghosts of the past reaching down into his throat and cutting off all circulation until he had to pull over to the side of the road. Gulps of air came flooding in as Ben stared at his surroundings.

It was a bright, sunny day, unusual for the middle of April, and he was parked right underneath a cheery sign that read Welcome to Derry! The irony was enough to make him laugh, but it escaped as more of a wheeze, and Ben hit his head on the steering wheel. Truth be told, he really couldn’t pinpoint the reason he was so nervous to be back in Derry. Life was halfway terrible when he was a kid, but that was because of childhood bullies that would sneer awful remarks at him on the playground. Surely they had all grown up, right? No one would call him fatso or loser when he walked past the shops in town, even though the storekeepers were the same as his middle school tormentors. Ben knew that he could walk through town and name the baker, the town drunk, the new ninth grade science teacher, because no one left Derry. No one left, no one came.

Benjamin Hanscom was what most would call an anomaly, because he got to escape the fate of a childhood growing up in Derry. Ben, a beautiful redhead named Beverly, (January embers, Ben thought in the back of his mind. What did that mean?) and someone he could only remember as Richie the Trashmouth. These were the kids who actually made it out of the small town. There was a postcard tucked under his bed in a box of junk addressed to a house in Connecticut. Ben had moved there was he was fifteen, four years after- Ben couldn’t quite remember what that was after. Four years after something important happened. Something that made receiving the postcard fill his stomach with dread.

December 12th, 1965

Ben! We’ve missed you! Wish you would write more, Stan thinks you’re pulling a Bev on us and never looking back. I told him that you’d never forget about your old panty waists back in Derry. Stan says hi, by the way. Yes. Hello Ben. Miss you. So do Eddie and Mike. And that’s what I’m writing to you about! Guess who made it out! The trashmouth himself! Richie upped and left for California two days ago without telling any of us. For some reason I can’t find it in me to be mad at him because I’m so damn proud he made it out. Eddie’s real bummed though. Only speaks when he needs to and always leaves early. But it’s fine though. Richie’s like you and Bev, he’ll really make it now! Maybe he’ll go the rest of his life without seeing It. Sorry, not a funny joke. Stan’s laughing a little bit, though. And that means it was probably not a great joke. We miss you, Ben. Please try to write. We sent you some stuff to inspire your inevitable poems of your life and times here in the shithole.

Losers forever,

Bill Denbrough

Ben pulled the box from his backseat now, the strange urge that had him bring it with him now telling him to rifle through. A small, leather bound notebook with the title Derry’s Unofficial History by Mike Hanlon. There was nothing else written, just an ominous page written by a boy he didn’t remember. A green bouncy ball. Handful of arcade tokens. A bridge built with toothpicks. One bottle cap off of a cheap brand of vodka. Shoelaces tied into a noose. A book of town history. Finally, another postcard, splattered in something red, smelled vaguely cherry-like, and written in handwriting Ben would never be able to recognize.

Your hair is winter fire.

January embers,

My heart burns there too.

(Really takes ya back, huh Ben?)

Back to what, though? Ben had read this poem a million times over and still, nothing ever rang a bell. It was like having a kernel of popcorn stuck in your gums or a phantom rock in your shoe. Always in the back of his mind and never seeing the light of day.

Giving the poem one last glance and then tossing the box to the side, Ben slowly started the car again. He drove past the sign and into the main center of town, just a row of damp store fronts with sad, dull signs advertising the different sales. All of a sudden Ben couldn’t quite remember what he was here to accomplish, why he had left his comfortable life to visit the place he grew up. Nostalgia wasn’t the answer since there was nothing to reminisce about, just a handful of vague emotions that left him feeling uneasy.

Thinking he should just turn around and go home, Ben began to pull a U-turn when he saw a man standing on the corner of the street. He had a vendors cart with him, but there was no description as to what he was selling, just a bunch of red balloons tied to the handle. Ben couldn’t quite see his face since the balloons swaying in the nonexistent breeze covered him up. As he turned around and drove back up the street, he glanced in his rearview mirror once more. The balloons were gone. The man locked eyes with Ben and leered, for just a second, long enough to make his blood run cold. His smile was terribly wide, lips stretching over his teeth in an inhumane way and pulling the flesh to be shiny and tight. Black holes stood where eyes normally did. Big orange puff balls suddenly decorated the man’s apron. When Ben whipped around in his seat to get a better look, there was nothing left. Just a single red balloon, floating up, up, up.

Time to make one last appeal

For the life I live

No one said a single word. If they even tried, Stan shut them down. “Shut up.” He’d say, even if Richie began thinking of a joke. There was no room for laughter in a holding cell.

They had been arrested and Stan was trying to figure out a way of telling his father without being murdered before he was bar mitzvah-ed. Well, more murdered than the crazy fucking killer clown had tried to accomplish before Richie clobbered him over the head with a baseball bat and they all just started screaming and throwing things and at some point Stan definitley ran him through with an iron rod. But that was nothing compared to Mr. Uris and a good reason to yell. No, the true horror awaited him when he got home tonight. He could already see his mustache trembling with anger, the red creeping up the sides of his neck.

Stan took a deep breath and clenched his fists, feeling the crescent of his nails bite into the soft skin on his palms. This was momentary distraction from the monster headache he currently had, courtesy of the painting lady. A shudder ran through him as he thought about the woman who wasn’t truly a woman, just an evil twist of a face that had skittered at him, like a cockroach.

“Guys?” He called out, the panic settling in. “Guys, where’d you go?” No response. The quiet hung in the air, heavy, only penetrated by random drops of water. Stan swept the flashlight around, trying to figure out which pothole he had just emerged from, when a piercing giggle erupted out of nowhere. “Hello?!” His voice more frantic, more desperate for Richie to just be fucking with him in a bad moment, for Bev to start breaking out in her normal peals of laughter and reveal that she had been okay this whole time. The laughter was more of an echo this time, sending chills down his spine. It was an echo… but it was closer. Closer. Closer.

Behind him!

Like the sound of his mother’s drumming nails when she was irritated with him, the lady in the painting flew at him. Stan jerked backward only to hit the wall, knocking the wind out of him, rendering him useless for a second. That was all she needed. Her smile widened as rows of teeth, dank and dripping with gray water, flashed in the quickly dimming beam of his flashlight. He screamed, screamed with terror and hope that Bill would come flying out to save the day, but her jaws stretched and suddenly he could only feel unimaginable pain. Her teeth bit into his skin and he had given up screaming, and now was writhing around, which made her clench down harder on the sides of his face. Stan was giving into the darkness that crept into the sides of his vision when a loud clang rang through the sewers and he heard a bewildered “What the fuck is that thing?”

The woman leeched off into the darkness before Stan could register what had happened, and suddenly there was a crowd of people surrounding him. Stan! Stan, are you okay? Stan please say something! S-S-S-Stan! Stan’s eyes flew open at the sound of Bill’s voice and he immediately began screaming again. “You left me!” He scrambled backward and hit the wall again. “You all left me and you swore you wouldn’t!” Hot tears ran into the wounds, causing them to sting. When did he start crying? Still pushing back at them, accusing them of things beyond their control, Stan began growing hysterical. “You left me! You left me! You

‘ve left me no choice, laddies.” Mr. Nell said, causing Stan to jump back into the present. “I hafta call your parents ta come getcha in the mornin’.” Nobody but Richie was bold enough to groan at this statement, and he only did after the policeman was out of sight. Stan knew he was in for it once he got home. He might’ve almost died three hours ago, but he was definitely never going to see his twelfth birthday.

Leaning his head against the wall, Stan tried to close his eyes and ignore the pounding in his head. Some shuffling noises were made as Eddie curled into Richie, buried himself in the fabric of his t-shirt and Richie threw an arm around the smaller boy. Beverly made no noise while tipping her head onto Ben’s shoulder and squeezing Mike’s arm, and both boys smiled softly in response. For a moment, Bill stayed completely still, but then reached for Stan’s hand. Stan jerked his eyes back open to only find Bill staring at him with the inevitable question in his eyes- Are you okay? Lacing their fingers together and squeezing hard, Stan closed his eyes again.

In the morning he wasn’t only berated for coming out of the Neibolt street house half alive, but also that the Uris couple found their son lying cheek to cheek with that no-good Denbrough boy, fast asleep with their limbs entangled together. He got an earful, but Stanley didn’t mind much. He felt much braver than he ever had before.

Stop and stare

I think I'm moving but I go nowhere

Beverly Marsh was almost fourteen years old and she was trying desperately to remember the name of the boy with bug-eyed glasses. It began as a joke she was trying to tell to Ella, another freshman who kept her head down and avoided the popular girls at all costs. “Tangled up there, lass?” Beverly had remarked when Ella came out of the bathroom stall with her skirt caught in her underwear. The girl laughed and asked what accent that was supposed to be, and Beverly began to answer when she caught herself short. “Well… it’s called the Scottish Cop.” She said slowly. “This boy… he used to do it all the time… even straight to a policeman’s face.” Ella then laughed once more and led them both out of the bathroom, a place they never willingly spent more time if they didn’t have to. (Another feeling Beverly couldn’t quite place- restrooms made her nervous. Like she was helpless.)

Spending the rest of the school day thinking it over, she still didn’t have a name when she pulled her bike up to her aunt’s back door. A quick hello and a dash up the stairs led Beverly onto the floor of her bedroom, thinking about her life in Derry.

She was born in Derry, Maine. Raised in a house with light blue shutters and a broken living room window. Inside lived Beverly and Al Marsh, a sweet child with cherub cheeks and a father who liked to beat his daughter senseless whenever he had the opportunity. Al had died in that house too, but from what? A lot of dying was happening, Beverly could remember that much. That’s why she was sent to Portland. Her father… but who else? Who else had died- G-G-Georgie. Georgie Denbrough. Little brother of Big Bill Denbrough, a tall boy who had a stutter but also a sweet dimple and layers of freckles that Beverly suddenly remembered being incredibly charmed by. Bill was the leader of the ragtag group of kids that followed him around on his heels and took heed of every word he stuttered out, and Beverly was no different. Like a puppy and it’s owner, Beverly saw stars when she looked at Bill.

That was a long time ago. She was tougher now, she didn’t let any boys tell her what to do or when to do it. Not that the boys she had loved back in Derry were mean, they were just in charge. Beverly was the captain of her own destiny now.

However, there were days when a sickly feeling would crawl up the back of her neck and make her turn around fast, for one second, to find nothing but a breeze behind her. There were days when walking into a bathroom meant going straight to the toilet to throw up, because the sight of white-tiled walls made her inexplicably nauseous. There were days when she would cross to the other side of the street to avoid a storm drain with an open grate. There were days when Beverly Marsh did not feel in control at all, and she wished that Bill Denbrough was there to tell her what to do.

He was back in Derry, however, and sent her postcards every once and awhile to remind her. They were never waxing letters of love and longing, (although she had one of those too, but it stayed in the back of her closet and in the back of her mind) but instead cheerful reminders to write to her old pals back in Derry. She had tried once, but after crying in frustration when she couldn’t figure out the name of the place they used to spend all of their time, that dusty forest with the great big cliff drop off, the letter went into her wastepaper basket. Beverly now kept the postcards in a plastic pencil case box at the top of her closet.

They now sat scattered around her as she tried to figure out the kid’s name. Bill’s letters mentioned Stan the Man, Trashmouth, Eddie, Benny Boy, and Mike, but Beverly couldn’t decipher the differences between all of them. It was like they were characters in a book she had read long ago, all blending together to make a ball of personality- Someone hated taking their shirt off when they swam, another kept an inhaler glued to his hand, one worked on a farm and brought them all apples when the season was right. Bill was the only one that stood out in her mind, but that was because he had always stood out. He was first the boy with the dead brother. He then became the leader of the group. Bill never wore glasses, though, this much she could remember.

Giving up after a last ditch skim through the letters, Beverly lied down on her bed and curled up into a ball. Perhaps it was for the better that she couldn’t quite remember Derry. After all, she had left her father there, and that was definitely for good.

In the morning, Beverly had forgotten all about the conundrum of the boy with the bug-eyed glasses and ate her toast and jam in complete peace. After kissing her aunt on the cheek and grabbing her brown bagged lunch, she mounted her bike (an old, rickety thing that glinted in the sun and caused her aunt to worry when she made a sharp turn around the corner of the neighborhood) and lifted her fist in the air, crowing with triumph, “Heigh ho, Silver away!”

Yeah, I know that everyone gets scared

But I've become what I can't be

He dropped to the floor, clutching his ears and trembling. The bang of the gun was too much for him to handle, even though it had been ten years since he had a reason to actually fear it. Staring the sheep right in the eyes to mirror the eye contact Henry had held with him before attempting to blow his brains out was a bitter pill for Mike to swallow.

One he often choked on.

The farmhand, a younger boy named Thomas, tried to hide the sigh that escaped as Mike took a deep breath, calming the tremors that ran through his body. He didn’t chastise him for the disrespect, because he knew he would’ve done the same thing if he was fifteen and working for a crazy man. “Do you mind finishing up here?” Mike asked. The boy nodded and picked up the abandoned gun, hanging it off of the shelf and slung the sheep around his shoulders. Mike’s stomach turned with the sight of blood dripping from it’s head, the one he had just put a bullet through, and pushed through the barn doors.

Dropping to his knees and taking in deep gulps of breath, Mike let the heat of the sun beat down on his back. The memories of that day were too vivid in his mind. Things were never truly the same afterwards, he knew it, the Losers Club knew it, even his parents understood that there was a change in their boy. He was no longer the delicate yet strong boy they had raised. He no longer wanted to explore all of the unbeaten paths of Derry. Mike had lost the spark of curiosity that made so many people love him. Each member of the club had reached a level of adulthood that no eleven year old should be able to understand.

They handled it in their own ways. Beverly, for starters, moved away. Completely. It wasn’t really her choice, but she wasn’t arguing. She had told them all once, in a hushed voice at one of Bill Denbrough’s sleepovers, that she heard noises in her house still. Dripping water pipes. Child-like whispers. Faint circus music. Beverly Marsh left Derry with a skip in her step and a promise to write them all at least once a month with a review of the latest horror movie in theaters. (They never heard from her again. Bill kept sending letters, however. They would gather around and write it together, jutting in with their own handwriting and stories of things they thought she would like. Mike always wrote lengthy descriptions of the butterfly migrations. Bill would sign each one with Losers Forever.)

Bill began to write. He was always good at english and he came up with the best lies to get them out of scrapes, but this was something different. Pages and pages of horror stories began surfacing, dropped off at their doors with varying notes. (“Is this something to actually be scared of?” “Can you check my grammar?” Mike was always asked to see if the story was historically accurate, to see if pilgrims would’ve been in Utah during November, 1650, or something of that nature.) The group never acknowledged it, but the stories became increasingly real, increasingly familiar, until they just had a specific recount of the day at the Neibolt house and they all gathered together and cried, as thirteen year olds are wont to do.

As if nothing ever happened, Stanley Uris would refuse to talk about anything that had occurred. He began spending less time with the group as well, and they all hated to see the strained look on Bill’s face when any of them questioned where Stan was. Sometimes they saw him riding his bike around town, or birdwatching in the park, and none of them really said anything about it. Stan was affected in a different way that day, because he had to face the monster alone. When they made a promise to come back and fight if It ever resurfaced, Stan’s hand shook when he held out the broken coke bottle. He was with them until he wasn’t.

Richie and Eddie became RichieandEddie and no one was brave enough to bring it up. Not brave, there was no bravery in that sort of confrontation, but no one was willing to take away something that made them happy. They each had their thing, and they happened to be each others. So if cuddling so tightly you couldn’t distinguish who was who during movies nights, Richie comforting Eddie alone during his panic attacks, them spending more time together than with the Losers made them happy, what else could they do except stand there and think Thank God we are safe and we have one another?

Ben and Mike began spending more time together as well. They both migrated toward the library and found solace in the quiet stacks of books, arming themselves with knowledge and words instead of weapons and fire. It began subconsciously, showing up at the same time because they had wordlessly made a schedule, sharing a table and putting each other’s books away as a favor. Then one day Mike wasn’t there because of some chores and Ben called his house breathlessly wondering if Mike was okay and if he could speak to him, please? Suddenly showing up was a lot more purposeful now, Ben bringing two sleeves of Necco Wafers, Mike having enough paper for both of them to take notes. Library days became Mike’s favorite because he knew that he wouldn’t have to face the world for a while, and he had a great pal beside him.

This is where Mike found himself drifting to, ten years later. Benjamin Hanscom had left Derry when they were fifteen years old, but Mike still loved the library and the peace it brought him. The rattle of his beat-up Ford slowed to a stop outside of the Derry City Library and Mike suddenly didn’t feel as nauseous as he once did. Greeting the librarian with a quick smile, he took his spot at the table he had occupied for so many years and cracked open whatever book was lying on the end. A tale of princesses and knights in shining armor.

The lazy afternoon light filtered in as time went on, and Mike looked up. The clock on the wall told him it was definitely time for him to head home. As he put the book back, something etched into the surface of the table caught his eye. Result of a day where Ben and Mike tried to convince the others to meet at the library, Richie had taken out his pen knife and carved LOSERS FOREVER BITCH into their sacred reading table. Ben had almost cried when he saw it and Mike threatened to punch him before Bill had stepped in and calmed everyone down. Mike knew that it was Eddie who had snuck back in and scratched out the ‘BITCH,’ risking the chance that he would be teased mercilessly. He grazed the carving lightly, remembering fondly of the moments where he felt invincible standing next to the rest of his friends. He felt a surge of protection even seeing it, feeling guarded by the ghosts of the Losers Club. And by God, isn’t that what Mike wanted? To feel safe again, even if for one day?

Stop and stare

You start to wonder why you're here not there

The top button of his shirt was making his neck itch something fierce. He wasn’t quite sure why he had to wear it so tightly around his neck, but the striped tie he also had held it up fastidiously. The itch, in the end, did not matter. Because when you’re attending your little brother’s funeral, trivial things like the top button of your shirt seemed to be important for only seconds at a time.

Technically, the funeral had already passed. Bill had spent the morning in the local church, holding his mother’s hand as she cried. He had been strangely stoic for a just-turned eleven year old boy, but maybe it was to show his father that he was a man, that he was strong enough to be his son. It didn’t matter. Zach and Sharon Denbrough cried through the entire service, and their adventurous (alive) son sat between them, unblinking. On the way home Sharon accidentally caught Bill’s eye in the mirror and for the first time in his young life, she did not smile back.

Bill’s top button was itching him as he sat in the middle of the upstairs hallway listening to the people that were gathered downstairs. A low murmur crept up from the crowd, people apologizing to his parents while trying to mask their secret relief that it wasn’t their own child’s funeral and eating crudites. For a while Bill had stood with them, but he got antsy and his dad tapped him on the back, relieving him of the duty. Not really sure where he wanted to be, (not his room because he could see Georgie’s bed and Georgie’s toys and Georgie’s things but there wasn’t a Georgie anymore) Bill slid down the wall and hid from the rest of the people.

He untied the tie around his neck with clumsy fingers, just pulling at the knot until it came loose, and then unbuttoned the itchy culprit of a top button. Just as he sighed with relief, pairs of footsteps came bounding up the stairs and almost stepped right on top of him. “Hole-lee shit!” Richie exclaimed. “I faouwnd ‘im, boys!” For an inexplicable reason, hearing Richie’s terrible Cowboy Joe voice relaxed Bill just a bit more, and looking into the eyes of his best friends made him release all of the tension in his small, eleven year old shoulders.

Eddie and Stan looked impeccable, as if anything else was to be expected of them. Both in little suit jackets that were broken out for special occasions, like Sabbath when Stan’s Bubbe came to dinner or Christmas when Eddie was dragged by the ear to church for an incredibly boring amount of time. Richie was in a clean pair of jeans and a button-up, since his parents did not believe in buying such an expensive item of clothing for a growing boy. The trio looked very nice, but they also looked out of place, as if their very faces told the story that they should not be dressed in their nicest clothes on a Thursday afternoon. The slump in their shoulders and pity in their eyes said I should be playing in the sunshine, not mourning the loss of my best friend’s little brother. However, there they stood. At the feet of the boy with the dead brother.

“H-H-Hey guys.” Bill said quietly, smiling half-heartedly up at them. They all crowded down with him and wordlessly wrapped their arms around each other, making Bill the center of their small universe. He said nothing, just let them pat him slightly and make comforting noises for a second before slinging an arm around Stan. A small sniffle escaped from him, and the boys all let go for a second. They settled in the middle of the hallway, a tight circle with their knees overlapping each other. Eddie was wrapped up in Richie’s side, and Bill didn’t let go of Stan.

They still sat in silence and watched Bill fight back tears, tears that he wasn’t allowed to shed in front of his father, tears that he would probably get made fun of by Richie for later, but tears that suddenly spilled over when Stan carefully bumped his forehead against Bill’s. The small act of sincerity reminded Bill that he would never be able to feel Georgie’s small hand grasp for his when they were crossing the street, and now he was a blubbering mess. He didn’t dare try to say anything because he knew his stuttering would be terrible, but the other boys seemed to understand everything he was feeling. So Bill just cried, and his best friends held him while he did.

Later, Bill sat on his bed, his feet dangling off of the edge, staring at his closed door. Eddie was brushing his teeth, Richie looking through his meager record collection, and Stan sat next to him, reading from a book about birds. “Hoopoe is a national bird of Israel and one of the birds that were considered sacred in-”

“I-I-I-I wis-sh-sh it had b-b-been me.” Bill cut Stan off. The soft slap of a record hitting the floor came from Richie. “H-He d-d-d-didn’t deserve t-to d-d-die. Sh-Sh-Should’ve b-b-been m-m-m-me.” The Big Book of Birds closed with a thump. “I s-s-sent hi-him out th-th-there with-thout anyo-o-ne.” Stan reached for his hand, but Bill drew it away with a suddenness that made Stan jump. “D-D-Don’t p-p-pity me. I-I-it’s t-t-true, and I-I-I c-c-can’t take it b-b-back.”

Bill jumped off the bed and flung open his bedroom door. He stared at Georgie’s bed with a hard look in his eye and then made the decision that he would never close the door again, because he deserved to be reminded of the thing he had done, and he wanted to make things fair. Georgie had died because of him and Bill was going to make himself pay.

And you'd give anything to get what's fair

But fair ain't what you really need

This isn’t fucking fair, Bill thought. My friends are going to die because of me, and that just isn’t fair. The clown had him by the throat, his breath hot and rancid and making Bill feel slightly dizzy. “As I feed on your fear.” It finished, giving that wide, maniacal grin. “Or.” He tried turning his head to look at the thing, but it tightened its grip, the talons biting into his flesh. “You'll just leave us be. I'm taking him, only him. And then I'll have my long rest and you will all live to grow old and drive and lead happy lives until old age takes you back to the weeds.”

Bill’s shoulders fell with relief. His friends could live, really live, have long lives where they got to do more than build a dam in the Barrens or watch crappy horror movies all day long. All he had to do was convince them to leave. Their spouts of protest suggested otherwise, but he knew that they would go if he told them to. He was Big Bill after all. Always the one to make the decisions. “Leave,” he commanded. The room went quiet for a moment, because that’s what the world seemed to do when Bill Denbrough spoke. All of creation paused just to hear him speak. “I’m the one who dragged you all into this. Go!”

Like deer in headlights, his friends stared at him as they tried to make their decision. After a pregnant moment of silence, Richie took a step forward. “Sorry, Bill.” He shook his head. “I told you, Bill. I fucking told you, I don't want to die…” Bill took a deep breath. Richie was going to lead them all out of the sewers, Richie was going to save their lives, Richie was going to leave him to die. And Bill wasn’t even angry about it. “It's your fault. You punched me in the face, you made me walk through shitty water, you brought me to a fucking crackhead-house. And now… I'm gonna have to kill this fucking clown!” Before Bill could react, Richie swung his bat with the power of God himself. “Welcome to the Loser’s Club, asshole!”

A flurry of pipes being thrown and children grabbing onto his back and Bill being released from it’s terrible grasp then commenced. He immediately joined in on the fight and they all fought back, harder and harder until it took the form of a man none of them had seen before. Except Beverly.

The man had asked a question Bill did not understand, called her a name he had not heard before, when Beverly screamed a terrible and ugly scream and rammed an iron rod down his throat. They all watched as it flung itself down the larger sewer hole and stood together, beaten and bruised, but alive.

In the quiet, Bill came to a decision. Maybe his life wasn’t fair. If it was fair, Georgie would be almost seven by now and starting the second grade. If it was fair, he would be able to sit with his parents and feel the love and light his home used to carry. If it was fair, Stan would look at him just like Beverly did. His life wasn’t fair, but he tried his hardest to make it right. Bill fought for Georgie, for his parents, for his friends. Fair wasn’t what he needed. Bill needed things to be just.

hello this is really fucking long jesus @ me. anyways pls leave a comment and i will show up outside of your window at midnight with a boombox to serenade you

#it #it 2017 #it chapter one #it chapter two #it 2019 #eddie kaspbrack #richie tozier #ben hanscom #stanley uris #beverly marsh #mike hanlon #bill denbrough #stenbrough #reddie #reddie fanfiction #stenbrough fanfiction #it fanfiction

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purplesurveys · 4 years

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What song are you listening to right now? I’m not listening to anything but the last song I played was Violet by Daniel Caesar; I don’t actually know the song but it was part of a playlist on Spotify. Admit it -- you want a Snuggie. What design/color? I don’t even know what that is, but if it came in pink I’d want one. Do you prefer movies at home or movies at the theatre? Home is cozier and costs much less, haha. How many songs does your iTunes have? Ooh, I haven’t used my iTunes in like half a decade buuuut I think it peaked with around 400-500 songs? Idk, I didn’t explore much as a kid and I liked to stick with my favorite singers/bands. Do you take a shower in the morning or the night before? When I’m off school I like to shower at night - much more comfy that way, and I fall asleep faster. But when I have to leave the house whether to go to school, the mall, to crash at someone’s place, etc. I always bathe a few hours before. Always. I hateeeeee not feeling fresh when I go outside.

What's your academic niche? (History, math, science, etc.) History for sure, but there are some science topics I’m also okay in. Who's your youngest teacher? They’re all already pretty seasoned lol I can’t actually tell. I think it’s Ma’am Cai; welp, at least among my current professors, she’s the one that acts the youngest. Have you ever had the samples people offer you at Costco? I’ve never been in a Costco but I typically don’t get samples from our local groceries because idk, they just look nasty :/ The only samples I get are the free ones they hand over at Starbucks and Coffee Bean, haha. If you had to name your kid after a food, what would his/her name be? I’d take olives and turn it to Olivia, which was always my choice for a girl anyway. But if it really had to be food-inspired I’d go with... Brie for a girl, or Sage for a boy. Miley Cyrus: Inspirational role model or a ho? Get with the times, 2009 survey. This question won’t get away with that word today. Anyway, Miley is a badass. I never changed my mind about her, maybe except for that time she did that performance with Robin Thicke. Are you stressed about anything? Right now no. I’m on a six-week break, I wanna enjoy it without thinking about the stuff that would typically stress me out. When's the last time you had a rock, paper, scissors match? It’s been a few months. What's your favorite anime? I don’t watch anime... the only show I got into was Pokemon. Did you cry when Ash let his Butterfree go with the other Butterfrees? I vaguely remember that but I probably got sad over it when I was younger. Don't you hate it when Facebook auto-corrects your smiley faces and hearts? I don’t mind it. Skinny, flared, ripped, or faded jeans? Ugh I hate all of these. I have a lot of skinny jeans in my closet but they’re always a last resort - my go-to these days is mom jeans. What are you excited for? Meh, nothing in particular. I wanna say my birthday? but who knows what the world is gonna come to be by then. Are you part of the Farmville cult? No I never played. I wasn’t allowed to make a Facebook account at the time when games like that and Petville and Plants vs. Zombies were big. What were you for Halloween? Last year I went as Dora. AND IT WAS SO ANNOYING because the party we were invited to prohibited shorts??? And 1) Dora wore shorts and 2) I searched far and wide for a pair of orange shorts? It was the first time I heard of a dress code that strict for a college party lmao I couldn’t believe it. Thankfully Rita had just bought a pair of orange jeans so she let me borrow those. Have you ever had braces? Back in high school. What year of high school are you in? I am not. What's your favorite flower? Peonies. Would you ever bleach your hair? Probably not. My hair has faced enough damage. Have you ever stood on a frozen solid body of water? No. That sounds scary though. I’ve heard and watched people fall through ice :/ Would you ever take up smoking or drinking? I’m already doing both. Thanks, college and peer pressure! Do those girls with 1,000 friends on Facebook REALLY have that many? I dunno, who knows? It’s always possible. I have a bigger problem with the fact that this question just singled out girls lmao. What holiday is your birthday closest to? Uhh Earth Hour, if it counts? If not, we have Araw ng Kagitingan on April 9 which commemorates the Fall of Bataan during WWII. Are you cyberdyslexic? Is this even a thing? I’ve never heard of this until today. Are you regular dyslexic? No. Is there irregular dyslexia? :((( What would your name be if you were a boy? I don’t know. My parents didn’t think about this either I think. Which person from way back when would you love to hang out with? My great grandpa. Either him or his cousin who wrote a book on history. What color are your eyes? Dark brownnnnnnn ugh this will FOREVER be in surveys won’t it. The forever on-going question: Is Twilight stupid or actually brilliant? It’s so stupid. BUT I LOVE IT ok. Did you carve pumpkins for Halloween this year? No. We don’t do that here. Does your family use a real pine tree or a plastic one for Christmas? I think most households here use artificial trees. I was already a little old when I found out other countries would use real trees. Do you know anyone with a play-on name? (Chris P. Bacon, Justin Case, etc.) Not personally but super recently someone named their kid COVID BRYANT and it was all over social media for a few days. Covid Bryant. Let that shit sink in. Only Filipinos, man. Do you have any foreign exchange students at your school? Yeah, mostly Koreans and Japanese people. If you had a week to live, what would you do? I don’t have much of a choice, do I... I’m gonna be stuck at home and do the stuff I’ve already been doing in the last three weeks, and just hope I had fun.

Are you good at brain teasers? Some, but I don’t enjoy doing them in general. Is your handwriting nice? I can handle a pen pretty well, if I do say so myself. I have a neater penmanship than most people I know. What's your second language? English. Is it uncomfortable for you to take showers in glass stalls w/out curtains? Not really but the door has to be locked. Finish the sentence: Remember, remember... The fifth of November? I dunno why I know about that though. Did you understand Shakespeare? No. I always bought the No Fear Shakespeare editions cos I had absolutely no patience to try and understand the original text. What do you want to be when you're older? Rich. What's your favorite dog breed? Golden retriever or pitbull. Are you one of those people who take like, 50 Facebook quizzes at a time? I’ve never taken a Facebook quiz. What was the last shot you got? It was at the roof of my mouth, back when I had a tooth extraction. Ever gotten cavities? A few times. Can you differentiate between the words "your" and "you're?" Yes. Do you use hair ties as bracelets? Lmao always. Don’t most girls do this? What was the last school project you did that you couldn't wait to turn in? My book report for my business journalism class. After I proofread it like 6 times and triple-checked the word count, I couldn’t waitttt to get rid of it. Have you ever graded papers? Sure. I’ve said it in past surveys, but my org hosts journalism workshops to interested schools, whether they’re in elementary, high school, or college. At the end of the day they have to come up with their own articles, and then we check each of them, correct the mistakes, grade them, and give it back to them with our comments. What was your favorite year of school up to this point? Third year of high school. I don’t really have a favorite year of college... I had lows in each of them. What's the latest you've ever woken up? 11 AM. Can you recite the alphabet backwards? For a time I did cos Angela taught me. Then I just never sang it again so I ended up forgetting. If you could master one language in thirty minutes, what would it be? Korean. Are you a sucker for foreign accents? No. Sometimes I find it hard to understand. Where were you born? Is it the same place you live currently? I was born somewhere in Manila, and I live faaar away from there now. How often do you remember your dreams? What did you last dream about? Only if I note them down on my phone. The last dream I remember having was too lengthy for me to want to type it all down, but it involved me and Gabie being exes, and she had her own kid hahaha. When did you learn the ninja turtles were named after Renaissance artists? Pretty early, I guess. I’ve never seen the show though. Do you do yoga? Nope.

#survey #surveys

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avengersaremyforte · 5 years

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I got tagged by @lunaticonice to post 10 photos in my camera roll to describe myself. Do you know how hard it was to only pick 10?! Also right off the bat I’m a horrible speller and really bad about not looking at what I’m typing. So I make a lot of mistakes and auto correct is my worst enemy but my best tool in spelling so sorry for the mistakes.

I have a really good green thumb. Most of the succulents you see I’ve grown from leaves. I’m a proud plant mom

I like to diy stuff and refurbish furniture. In this case old palettes that I sanded down repainted and made into my bed. Im really crafty and like to draw and repaint stuff or repurpose things(that includes clothes). The thrift store is my best friend!

I’m um... extremely lucky. That Moped is a prize I won at a manger meeting for my job that I wasn’t even supposed to attend. My manger was out of town so I went in her place and won this thing. And it doesn’t stop there. I’ve been to multiple conventions where I want to meet youtubers or famous people and somehow I do it effortlessly. Like ask my friends I literally said one time, as we were leaving a con, how I was sad I didn’t get to see a youtuber before we left and we turned the corner to go to the parking garage and BOOM! That youtuber was there heading to the convention. Not to mention at my old job at the hotel I meet contless NBA players and singers all the time. Like you wanna meet someone famous hang out with me.

I took a class on Video editing because I wanted to try something new and maybe start a YouTube channel. But now that I took this class I actually want to try and shoot to be a video editor for The Dallas stars. Because I see the intermission videos at the games and think, I can easily do that, why am I not out there doing it. So that’s my goal for 2020. Have enough of a portfolio to try and get that rolling somewhere.

In this picture I was in Pittsburgh for a Stars game go figure and found a out door skating rink around a Christmas tree. I don’t like Christmas that much my family runied it for me but I love winter and all things related to it. And I’ve skating is one of my favorite things to do. And this moment was magical and the best part of the whole entire trip!

This picture is a double whammy because picking just 10 was hard. I’m putting this on here because I’m so proud of how far I’ve come at makeup. Like I’m not beauty guru good but I’m getting there. I love doing my makeup, especially eyeshadow, because it gives me a chance to show the world my artistic skills. And I loved this look especially because I wore it to pride. Because I’m bisexual 🏳️‍🌈

I love to travel! Especially spontaneous trips. When it comes to me and traveling I’m more of a go to the place you wanna go then figure out what you’re doing as you do it kind of person. Like my first major trip to Colorado I drove 9 hrs from Oklahoma to get there had no plans other than I have to be back in a week. In fact I was actually supposed to go to Arizona and Utah for the majority of that trip! I only went to Denver just to see the mountains. But I loved Colorado so much I stayed the whole week. I booked hotels as I went and even slept in my car on the way back. This picture was taken from my last trip to Colorado at the first of November And the only plan I had then was to go see the stars play, then I had five days to do whatever else i wanted.

& 9. I’m a proud mom of 5 beautiful fur babies who couldn’t all be in one picture because the cats hate the dogs! It’s actually a miracle that all three cats where in one photo and that happen today! In order from left to right you have Prowl the cats grey one shoes the oldest (10) and hates the dogs but love the other cats. He runs the show around here and my friends call him Mob boss. Next is Hope the youngest (2) she is also the most destructive cat I have ever had, in more ways than one. She chews on walls, scratches furniture, destroys blinds, she even scratched the cat tree so bad that she tore a hole in one of the posts and made it collapse. She’s also the only animal I’ve had that had to have a major surgery (she got he tail shut in a door and had to have 2” of it cut off). She likes the dogs though. But she also destructs the balance in this house. (We has two cats and two dogs. Two boys two girls, perfect balance before her) Because the cats next to her, Sparkel (5) hates her. They fight constantly so that’s why it’s a miracle they’re laying next to each other. Sparkle also tolerates the dogs from a distance. And now my puppies. The pure breed husky is named Sophie (6) she’s a husky in every way If you have huskies you know. She’s also the mom of the half husky half lab Snoopy (5) the happy accident. Snoopy is special. He’s the only animal I have had since birth and it might sound corny but we share a special bond because of it. He’s a certified service dog and an all around good boy that has the best worst traits of both of his breeds. If I could take him with me everywhere I would. And this section has gotten way to big so moving on to number 10 -

I’m a Stars fan.

And I’m currently mad at them right now so catch me waxing poetry about them on another day.

Yeah so as per usual I ranted long enought about myself.

So yeah, now is the part where I tag other people to do this thing. If you’ve done it before I’m sorry I don’t know who to tag so... @xr-ox @otter-solutions @darthbenn @bisexualtylerseguin @saucerfulofsins @my-adequate-blog @stupidsexyseguin @jakeoettinger @captainpetty @beckygs

#me myselfie and I #long post #personal #bless y’all for tagging me #hockey #sad yeehaw boys #this is my tag for when dallas looses #or #the stars at night are not big and bright

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serpentupemotions-blog · 6 years

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I’m With You |Sweet Pea x Cora Chase (OC)|

Part One

“Tell me you don’t, it feels like you do. Opening up can open some wounds.”

Cora Chase doesn’t really know what to expect when she moves back to Riverdale, only that it’s been thirteen years since she’s been gone and she wants to rebuild her relationship with her father. She definitely doesn’t expect to be thrown into a friendship with Sweet Pea, the boy looking for a job at her father’s auto shop.

Warnings: In this part, only swearing. I will update the warnings with each part.

Word Count: 4,500+

A/N: Thank you so much to @steve-harringtonnn for helping me with editing and planning and also for just listening to me talk about this fic almost constantly for the past couple weeks!

Cora kicks her legs up, placing her feet on one of the only empty spaces on the cluttered desk, crossing legs legs at the ankles. Leaning back, the old office chair creaks loudly, the leather covered arms cracked and peeling from years of wear. Straining, Cora stretches to reach for a pad of sticky notes, grasping them along with an old ballpoint pen.

‘Buy a new desk chair’ Cora scribbles on the paper, ripping it off and slapping it against the wooden desk before tossing the sticky notes and pen back somewhere amidst the mess of papers.

Cora looks around, taking in the state of the front office of Riverdale Auto Shop. It didn’t seem like it had ever been dusted, cobwebs draping from the exposed ductwork on the ceiling. Walls were covered in old license plates, photos of muscle cars, vintage metal signs for Coca-Cola, Harley Davidson, Esso and one overly sexualized woman advertising motor oil. Cora furrows her brows at the vintage ad, making a mental note to take it down once she found a hammer to rip the nails out. Her eyes land on a bowl of lollipops sitting on the edge of the desk, fishing one out and unwrapping it. Candy for any children that got dragged along with their parents to the auto shop, one could assume. The candy was long past the best before date based on the stale flavour and oddly tacky texture.

The jingle of the bell above the door draws Cora’s attention and she looks away from the Chevrolet clock that she had been staring at, attempting to determine if it was even still moving or not. Cora watches a tall guy step through the glass door, clutching a paper in his hands, stopping a couple feet into the office.

Cora takes the lollipop from her mouth, smiling as she watches him stand nervously halfway across the room her from her. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he replies, remaining planted where he was standing.

“Hi,” Cora says again, twisting the lollipop stick between her fingers as she waits for him to say something.

“I was coming in to ask about the job opening,” he says, evoking a slow nod from Cora.

“Right,” she comments, swinging her legs off the desk and sitting up straighter. This was a place of business, after all.

He hesitates before taking a couple steps closer, fiddling with the paper he was holding in his hands. “Do I talk to you about that? I have my resume here.”

Cora extends her hand across the desk with a smile, taking the paper as he hands it to her. Turning it around to face her Cora leans back in the office chair, scanning over the document in her hands. “Nate,” she comments, glancing up when he shifts suddenly at the sound of his own name.

“Sweet Pea,” he says, his voice sounding uncertain.

Cora opens her mouth slightly to say something before shutting it again, narrowing her eyes at him, head tilted to the side ever so slightly. “What did you just say?”

“Oh,” he says quickly, “no, I wasn’t, like, calling you that or anything. That’s what people call me…Sweet Pea.”

Cora laughs softly and nods at his correction of her assumption. “That somehow went in an even weirder direction than I thought it was going to go,” she states, bemused, twisting the chair side to side as she stares up at him. Sweet Pea. “Why?”

“Just a nickname that stuck,” he mutters. “So, should I just leave that with you?” he asks nervously a few minutes later, gesturing towards the resume that she was still holding.

Cora sets the resume down on top of one of the many stacks of papers on the desk. “Sure,” Cora says while spinning around in the desk chair. Placing her hands on the desk top she stops herself from spinning to face him, “I don’t know if you can tell, but I don’t actually work here.”

“I, uh, okay. I figured. Should I come back later…or should I call the police, did you break in?”

Cora laughs and shakes her head. “Please don’t call the police, that would really inconvenience my plans to steal the Camaro they just finished working on.” Pushing the chair back she stands up and steps out from behind the desk. “Stay there, I’ll go get the guy you want to be talking to about this,” Cora says before pushing open the door that connected the office to the shop.

“Hey, dad,” Cora says, walking up to where her dad was standing, leaning over the open hood of an old truck with one of his employees. “There’s someone here asking about a job opening.”

He nods, grabbing a shop towel from on top of the nearby tool carts. His blue coveralls were covered in grease stains, the patch with ‘Joe’ stitched into it was barely hanging on anymore. Cora was pretty certain her dad, the owner of Riverdale Auto Shop, could, and should, get new coveralls. But Joe was low maintenance to the extreme and if the coveralls still fit, he was still wearing them. “And he stuck around even with you in the front office? Brave guy,” he chuckles and turns to walk through the shop towards the office.

“That’s sexist,” Cora says, trailing after him. “Why would you just assume that it’s a guy applying for the job? I said nothing to indicate that. Women can work in auto shops too, in fact, maybe you should focus on hiring women.” She walks through the door separating the office and shop after her dad. “I’m sure there’s lots of women in this town interested in cars, but it’s assumptions like the one you just made that make women feel like it’s weird for them to want to work in the automotive industry.”

When Cora finally stops talking both Sweet Pea and her dad were staring blankly, waiting for her to stop rambling before starting their own conversation.

“Sweet Pea, I didn’t know you were looking for a job,” Joe says, extending his hand and gruffly shaking Sweet Pea’s. “You must have just graduated, right? My daughter’s the same age as you, she just graduated too.”

“Yeah, I had my last day of classes two days ago,” Sweet Pea says, nodding. “I didn’t know you had a daughter.”

“That’s me, I’m his daughter,” Cora chimes in, walking back around behind the desk and flopping back into the office chair. “How do you two know each other?”

“Oh, I’ve known Sweet Pea since he first got his motorcycle. When was that? Did you even have an actual license then?” Joe stops to chuckle at the recollection before continuing with his story, “That bike needed more work than it was actually worth, but he was in love with that thing so he would come in after school and we would work on it together.”

“I couldn’t afford to pay anything so your dad made me feel like I was doing the work so I wouldn’t have to pay for it. I’m sure I was more trouble than I was help.” Sweet Pea chuckles, looking down at the ground with a smile on his face.

Joe claps his hand on Sweet Pea’s shoulder. “Not at all. You were such a quick learner; a very hard worker. It’s been awhile since you’ve been around though.”

Cora forces herself to smile, to hide the sudden sense of sadness that washes over her. After her parents split she left Riverdale with her mom. She could still remember that day so vividly. Her mom had picked her up early from preschool with the car packed full of luggage, to go see grandma and grandpa her mom had said. Since that day Cora had seen barely seen her dad. Christmas visits, the occasional camping trip during the summers, spring breaks she would come and spend with her dad in Riverdale. Once she graduated Cora decided to move back to Riverdale, even though she barely considered it moving back since she left when she was only five. Cora had wanted to develop her relationship with her dad, but now she was overcome with the feeling that she may never be able to make up for all those years she lost out on.

“When can you start? You’ll be perfect for the job,” Cora hears her dad ask and she slowly stands back up, walking around the desk and towards the front office door, hoping to sneak away while they were still talking. “Cora, where are you going?”

Cora gestures towards the door, her keys and wallet clutched in her hands, still inching closer to it. “To explore Riverdale, I guess. I’ve been here for almost twenty-four hours so I should really go take in the sights. See what’s changed, what I missed out on all these years.”

Joe nods, smiling suddenly and waving his hand out in a gesture that signalled to wait for whatever more he had to say. “Sweet Pea could show you around, he-,”

“No,” Cora interrupts, shaking her head with wide eyes, trying to telepathically communicate for him to shut up. “No, I’m sure he doesn’t want to spend his afternoon showing me around this place. It’s not a big place, I can manage on my own.”

“I don’t mind,” Sweet Pea says, shrugging casually.

“You’re just saying that because you want the job. I will not be a pawn in your masterplan to secure yourself a job at this place,” Cora states dramatically. “But seriously, I can show myself around.”

“Cora, he’s offering to show you around, don’t be rude,” Joe warns. Maybe it was possible to make up for all those years of being gone after all, considering he was acting like Cora was still a kid.

Cora chuckles at the absurdity, shaking her head. “He’s not offering, you offered and he’s simply going along with it,” Cora says, receiving silent stares in response. “Fine,” she huffs, turning to look at Sweet Pea, “let’s go.”

“Don’t stay out too late,” Joe calls as Cora walks through the door, laughter evident in his voice. He had been enjoying treating Cora like she was still fifteen since the moment she got to Riverdale. When she had pointed it out she got the typical, “you’ll always be a kid to me” speech that parents seemed to be so fond of.

“So, where am I dropping you off?” Cora asks once she was in her car with Sweet Pea, turning the key in the ignition and pulling on her seatbelt.

“What?”

Shifting the car into reverse she backs out of the parking lot and onto the quiet Riverdale street. It seemed like most streets were like that in this town; quiet. The pavement was in desperate need of repairs, crumbling potholes scattered around the road. “Where am I dropping you off?” Cora repeats, glancing over at Sweet Pea. “Like, your house or a friend’s house, strip club, drug den, I don’t know what you’re into.”

“You don’t want me to show you around?”

Pulling onto the side of the road Cora shifts her car into park, shifting in her seat to face Sweet Pea. “I won’t tell my dad that you didn’t actually show me around, it can be our secret.”

Sweet Pea chuckles, shaking his head. “Did you have better plans that I’m interrupting? Because when I showed up at the shop it didn’t seem like you were doing anything exciting.”

“I’m sure you have better plans…and I don’t appreciate those judgments. Staring at that clock was beyond riveting.”

“Well if that’s your idea of riveting I’m certain I can show you a great time,” Sweet Pea says, fingers absentmindedly drumming against the door panel.

Cora can’t stop the giggle that bubbles past her lips. “Are you flirting with me, Nate?”

Sweet Pea clears his throat suddenly, shifting in his seat as his fingers stop moving on the door panel.

“Why does that bother you so much?” Cora asks curiously, her eyes searching his face for an unspoken answer.

Sweet Pea shrugs, turning his head to the side to look across the small distance of her car, eyes locking on Cora’s. “Nobody ever calls me that, it’s just weird.”

Nodding slowly at the explanation that seems to be just an attempt to brush off a real answer, Cora straightens back out in her seat. “Okay, Sweet Pea, where are we going then? If you’re going to show me such a good time.”

“Well we should definitely start at the strip club and then we can make a stop at the drug den,” Sweet Pea chuckles as he watches Cora unbuckle her seatbelt, the material sliding across her body.

“I knew it,” she laughs, wrapping her fingers around the door handle and pushing the door open. Stepping out onto the gravel of the side of the road the warm June sun beats down on Cora’s skin. Leaving the door open Cora walks around to the other side of the car, Sweet Pea quickly clueing in and hopping out as well.

“Have you had lunch?” Sweet Pea asks after he was situated back in the car, Cora in the passenger’s seat and Sweet Pea behind the wheel now.

“No,” Cora says, reaching over and pressing the button on the door panel to open the window. Cora reaches her arm out, forearm resting on the ledge of the window as the warm air whips against her skin.

“Then our first stop has to be Pop’s.”

Leaning her head back against the leather headrest Cora turns her head to look over at Sweet Pea. “Aren’t you hot?” she asks suddenly. Dressed for the prospect of a job interview, not for trekking through town on a hot summer day, Sweet Pea was wearing a long-sleeve black button-up, sleeves pushed to his elbows to try and escape some of the heat.

The corner of his mouth lifts slightly, glancing across the car momentarily before returning his eyes to the road. “I don’t know, am I?”

Cora laughs softly and shakes her head. “Shut up,” she mutters, rolling her eyes. “Seriously though, you’re going to end up with heat stroke or something.”

“Are you trying to get me to take my clothes off?” Sweet Pea asks, looking at Cora as he slows down before coming to stop at a four-way along the main road in Riverdale.

“Well excuse me for being concerned…put on some more layers, see if I care,” Cora laughs, the car rolling forward as Sweet Pea takes his foot off the brake, driving through the four-way stop. A couple minutes later Sweet Pea pulls into the parking lot in front of the diner. Whenever Cora came back to visit her dad they frequently ate at Pop’s, her dad’s lack of cooking skills made up for with meals at Pop’s. “Oh my God, it feels like it’s been forever since I’ve been to Pop’s,” Cora comments as she pushes the car door closed.

“You’ve been here before? So, I’m already doing a pretty terrible job showing you around,” Sweet Pea comments, holding the door open for Cora to walk inside ahead of him.

“You’re doing a great job,” Cora assures him, walking through the open door, thankful for the slightly cooler air in the diner. The diner was busier than she remembered it ever being before, most of the people seemed to be teenagers, escaping the heat of the summer day with their friends during summer break she would presume. Cora slides into to the vinyl covered booth near a window in the back corner, a waitress quickly coming by to take drink orders from Cora and Sweet Pea before hurrying on her way to the next table.

A silence falls over the booth between Cora and Sweet Pea. Cora shifts in her seat, picking up the chocolate milkshake and taking a quick sip, the glass clinking noticeably in the silence as she sets it back onto the table. “Let’s play a game.”

“A game?” Sweet Pea chuckles, raising his eyebrows as he waits for her to continue.

“Yeah,” Cora states, a smile on her face. “First, imagine the absolute perfect girlfriend…or boyfriend,” Cora hesitates, trying to read Sweet Pea’s reaction, receiving only a straight face. “Okay, so they’re perfect, except…they hate your friends. Do you make it and stay with them, or do you break it and dump them?”

Sweet Pea is quiet for a minute, staring at Cora expectantly. “That’s it? That’s the game?”

“Oh my God,” Cora groans, laughing as she leans back against the booth. “Yes, and you’re playing. So, what’s your answer?”

“Break up with her, I don’t want to deal with the shit that her hating my friends would bring.” Sweet Pea shrugs, taking the hint from Cora’s nodding that he was expected to come up with something for her. “He’s perfect except your family doesn’t like him.”

“Make it,” Cora says, voice a little quieter as her demeanour shifts momentarily, quickly regaining her bubbly self and continuing with the game without further explanation.

Playing with the straw in her empty milkshake glass Cora leans against the back of the booth, looking across the table at Sweet Pea. “She’s perfect except she runs everywhere she goes, never walks.”

Sweet Pea chuckles, hesitating momentarily. “Make it.”

“Seriously?” Cora giggles, eyebrows raised. “That’d be exhausting!”

“We’d just have to stay home a lot,” Sweet Pea laughs, shrugging. “He’s perfect except the only movie he’ll watch is The Hangover.”

Cora ponders the suggestion for a moment. “Make it. We’ll just watch TV shows instead of movies…She’s perfect except she can only speak in rhymes.”

“Break it,” Sweet Pea says quickly, barely a moment of consideration, making Cora laugh in response. “He’s perfect except he’s terrible in bed.”

Clearing her throat nervously, Cora sits up straighter, fingers letting go of the straw she was playing with as she draws her hands closer to her body. They had been playing ‘make it or break it’ for the past half hour, Sweet Pea hadn’t been thrilled about it in the beginning but him playing for this long indicated he must have been having some fun with it. It had remained fairly innocuous up till this point, he never does the dishes, she never laughs at your jokes, he never lets you pick the music. “Does it make me seem like an asshole if I say break it?”

Sweet Pea smirks and shakes his head. “No, I think you saying you would break up with someone who always wears the same outfit makes you more of an asshole.”

“I don’t want to date a cartoon character,” Cora exclaims defensively, leaning against the back of the booth. “It’s too weird, buy a different outfit!”

“Can I get you two anything else? Refills?” The young waitress standing by the table draws Cora’s attention.

“No thanks, I’m okay,” Cora tells her, looking back to Sweet Pea for his answer.

Sweet Pea shakes his head, glancing at his phone. “No, could we actually get the bill, please.”

“Separate or together?”

“Separate,” Cora answers quickly, the waitress nodding before walking away from the table.

“I didn’t realize how long we’ve been here. I’m not a very good tour guide,” Sweet Pea chuckles, “but I have to get going, I’m meeting some friends out by Sweetwater River.”

The waitress returns with two bills, setting them down with a quick mention of paying at the till near the door before disappearing quickly again.

“Don’t worry about it, I didn’t actually need a tour, I think my dad is just trying to make friends for me,” Cora says with a smile. “Sounds like fun,” she comments on his plans, beginning to slide out of the booth.

“Do you want to come?”

Cora hesitates, looking over at him curiously. She had enjoyed the afternoon and hopefully Sweet Pea had too, but she wasn’t sure if it was just a kind gesture rather than a genuine offer. “No,” Cora shakes her head, “I’m not going to intrude on your plans with your friends.”

Sweet Pea stands up from the booth, picking up the bill from the table as he does so. The two of them walking down the row of booths in the direction of the door. “Is it intruding if I invited you?”

“Your friends didn’t invite me,” Cora points out, stopping and waiting by the counter as she looks up at Sweet Pea. “Go have fun tonight, sounds like you’re going to be starting a real adult life working at the shop soon, have one last teenage celebration of freedom.”

Turning to the waitress as she walks over, Cora pulls out her debit card from her wallet, paying for the bill and waiting for Sweet Pea to do the same. Together they head back out into the parking lot, the afternoon sun slowly sinking into the evening, the air still brutally warm against her skin.

“What are your plans? Do you have any real adult life plans?” Sweet Pea asks, walking beside Cora in the direction of her car.

“Plans?” she asks, as if the word was entirely foreign to her, a smile on her face. “Don’t have any right now. I’m going to see how long my dad can handle having me around,” she jokes.

“Try and stay on his good side,” Sweet Pea comments, getting back into the car with Cora. “It’s nice to have some new people in Riverdale.”

Cora smiles nervously, nodding quickly. “Yeah,” she mutters, swallowing hard as she starts the car. Her mind races through her Rolodex of easy to talk about topics. “What’s your favourite kind of car?” she asks, trying to figure out something to ask that would interest him enough to not question the way less-than-subtle shift.

Sweet Pea turns his attention to Cora, eyebrows furrowed slightly, clearly aware of the change in subject. “I’m actually more of a motorcycle guy,” he tells her.

Cora glances over at him as she drives down the main street of Riverdale, back towards the auto shop, grateful that he had accepted the change in topic. Turning her attention back to the road she listens to him talk about motorcycles, his motorcycle, the kind of motorcycle he wanted, his best friend’s motorcycle, not following anything he was saying, but enjoying listening to his enthusiasm regardless.

Shuffling into the kitchen Cora rubs her eyes tiredly, desperate for a cup of coffee. The sound of talking brings her to a halt, blinking a couple times to be sure she was seeing things correctly. Her dad was sitting at the small kitchen table, a plate with eggs and toast in front of him and Sweet Pea sitting at the table across from him, breakfast in front of him as well. “What’s going on?” Cora asks groggily, walking across the old linoleum floor to the counter where the coffee maker sat with a half-full pot of coffee.

“Good morning,” her dad chuckles, “Did you not sleep well? You look tired.”

“You’re not supposed to tell people they look tired, it’s like telling me I look like shit. I slept fine, by the way, I just need coffee.” Reaching into the cupboard she pulls out a faded yellow mug, filling it before turning around to face the kitchen table and leaning against the counter. “That doesn’t answer my question though, it’s seven in the morning, why are you here?” Cora asks, eyes on Sweet Pea.

“It’s Sweet Pea’s first day at work, I invited him over to catch up,” Joe answers for him, “please don’t be rude to our guest.”

“Your guest,” Cora replies with a smile, walking over and dropping down into the only chair left at the tiny table. “I would never invite guests over before ten.”

“Well some of us have jobs,” Joe says, and Cora’s eyes widen, a quiet laugh escaping as she glances at Sweet Pea.

“Is that a hint?” she jokes, looking back to her dad.

Joe chuckles, pushing his chair back and walking to the coffee pot to refill his mug. “No,” he tells her. “Though I’m sure you’re going to get bored eventually.”

“So, it was a hint,” Cora says with a smile, her dad shaking his head in defeat as he sits back down at the table. “Excited for your first day?” Cora asks, her attention now turned to Sweet Pea, sitting on the other side of her.

“Yeah,” he nods, bringing another forkful of his scrambled eggs to his mouth.

“I guess you have to say that with your boss sitting right there.” Cora takes a sip of her coffee, grimacing slightly. “Wow, I didn’t think it was possible for me to not like coffee,” she mutters, slowly lowering the cup back to the table while looking at the almost completely full mug sitting in front of Sweet Pea.

“What’s wrong with it?” Joe asks defensively.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to drink motor oil, even if you own an auto shop.”

Sweet Pea chuckles quietly and Cora looks over at him with a smile, the sound of him laughing at her joke making her feel inexplicably happy. “Have a good first day,” she says to Sweet Pea, pushing her chair back from the table, grasping the mug of coffee and carrying it to the sink, pouring the liquid down the drain before walking out of the kitchen.

Balancing the cardboard tray with three paper cups of coffee Cora pushes the auto shop door open, the bell above the door jingling as she makes her entrance. The desk was unsurprisingly empty but only a minute passes before the door between the shop and office opens, Joe was halfway through the door before he comes to a stop. “Oh, it’s just you.”

Scoffing playfully, Cora shakes her head. “Good to see you too, dad,” she laughs, walking over and lifting one of the cups from the tray. “I brought you coffee, it doesn’t taste like tar, so I’m not sure if you’ll like it.”

“Thank you,” Joe smiles, his eyes fixed on the two remaining cups in the cardboard tray.

“The other one is for Sweet Pea,” Cora tells him, her dad nodding with a knowing look on his face.

“Coffee break is in five minutes, you can go hang out in the break room and wait for him if you want.”

Taking her dad’s suggestion, she heads to the break room, a small windowless room with an old wooden table, covered in ring-shaped stains from years of coaster-less use. Not a single chair around the table matched, some were old office chairs, some were kitchen chairs, a couple plastic outdoor chairs. Décor was not Joe’s strong suit. Sitting down in a chair near the end of the table Cora takes her own cup of coffee from the tray, bringing it to her lips and taking a sip while she stares at her phone. Absentmindedly she busies herself with scrolling through Instagram till chatter in the hallway catches her attention and she looks to the door, watching the guys who worked for her dad stream into the break room. A slight smile spreads on Cora’s face when she sees Sweet Pea walk into the room, chatting with one of the guys who worked at the shop. Despite her dad introducing her to everyone who worked at the shop, Cora could no longer remember many of them, the many, quick introductions escaping her mind.

Sweet Pea notices Cora quickly, walking over slowly and dropping down into the chair beside her. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

Cora pulls the coffee out of the cardboard tray, setting it down in front of him with a smile. “I brought you a coffee…to make up for my dad trying to poison you with the worst coffee I’ve ever tasted this morning.”

Sweet Pea’s lips curve into a smile, looking at the cup of coffee in front of him. “Thanks,” he says, his voice surprisingly quiet as he looks back at Cora with an unfamiliar seriousness in his eyes, contrasting with the smile on his lips.

“Yeah, no worries,” Cora laughs nervously, unsure of his change in demeanor. “I should get going though, leave you to your first day camaraderie building,” she says with a smile, standing up from her chair and heading for the break room door. Before walking down the hallway Cora glances back over her shoulder, her eyes locking momentarily with Sweet Pea’s eyes. Giving him one last smile, Cora turns around to hurry down the hallway before anyone had the chance to notice the warmth creeping up into her cheeks.

Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed it! Part two should be posted next Thursday!

#riverdale #sweet pea #sweet pea x oc #sweet pea fanfic #sweet pea fanfiction #riverdale x oc #riverdale fanfiction #riverdale fanfic #riverdale serpents #southside serpents

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badwolf-in-the-impala · 5 years

Text

~Welcome to the Neighborhood -- Ch.8~

Moodboard made by me @badwolf-in-the-impala. None of the pictures are ours, just editing.

A/N: Sorry we suck and keep forgetting to post on Monday’s...Life has been crazy lately. But anywho, here’s chapter 8 of @jacksonroth and mines SOA Collab! I hope you guys are enjoying, and if you would like to be added to our taglists, just let us know! Happy reading!

Disclaimer: There is some Spanish used in this chapter. So we would also like to add that this is a second language for both of us; one that hasn’t been used since High School...So we did our best to do the research to make sure things we as close as possible to accurate. So if it’s not the best/correct, we do apologize. Any helpful pointers or tips would be appreciated. But please, no rude comments. <3

Warnings: Mentions of gunshot wounds, violence, angst, voluntary kidnapping? More angst...So much angst.

Word count: 5,651

|| Previous Chapter ||

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While Chibs stitched Kacey up, Harper managed to calm down enough to be allowed back in to see her, as Chibs was finishing up with her leg. Kacey sat still as a statue now, completely void of any pain or emotion as she held onto the hands of her sister and Opie. Both positioned carefully, one on either side of her as they let Chibs work. The room falling into an uneasy silence as Kacey’s stomach tied itself up in knots, knowing fully what was about to come next as the door to the Chapel was thrown open and Clay stormed into the room; Jax, Tig, and Bobby following behind.

“Either one of you two care to tell me what the FUCK is goin’ on, here?!” Clay bellowed as he pointed between the two sisters who exchanged a brief glance. “Our shit with the Mayans has been good, straight, and then you two Wonder Twins show up -- actin’ all paranoid when Alvarez came around, and now this shit?!” He gestured out the Chapel door behind him in reference to what just went down.

“Clay, take it easy--” Jax tried to butt in, in an attempt to help, but Clay simply talked right over the top of him as he continued to address the sisters. “I want an explanation. Now...and it better be a Goddamn good one.”

Harper made a move to speak up as she stood, but stopped, her gaze falling to her sister’s when she felt Kacey’s grip tighten on her hand and pull her back. Harper’s eyes filled with concern as she watched her sister shake her head and say softly, “This is on me…”

“Care to elaborate?” Clay’s icy blue gaze was now fixed solely on Kacey as he waited for an answer.

“Before Charming...Before the Club.” Kacey gestured around the room at the guys who now listened carefully to what was about to unfold. “We were involved with the Mayans, and by involved, I mean romantically.”

“Jesus…” Clay ran a large hand over his face but stayed silent otherwise, as Kacey held up a hand of her own, gesturing to let her continue.

“It started out innocent. We were just a couple of hang arounds lookin’ for a good time, but after a while, Harp got together with Alvarez’s nephew, Nico, and I got involved with his best friend, Bastien...It wasn’t exactly the best situation, for either of us. But they aren’t the kind of people you just turn down an offer on being with…” Kacey winced a little as Chibs pulled another stitch through her arm. “We had no idea what the hell we were getting ourselves into at the time, but we rolled with the punches anyway. They said jump, we asked how high…”

“They treated us like fuckin’ shit most of the time, but it was roof over heads and hey; who were we to complain, right?…We put up with their shit for 3 years, until about 9 months ago when I walked in on my ex, Basiten, fuckin’ some other chicks brains out. And I just fuckin’ snapped. I was so tired of never being good enough for him, tired of him treating me like his Goddamn pet that I lost it. All I saw was red, and I beat that bitch without a second thought as to who she might be.”

“And lemme guess, she was someone you never should’a fucked with?” Tig chimed in briefly before Kacey continued; answering his question.

“Sara Alvarez...Nico’s sister--”

“And Alvarez’s niece…” Clay finished for her, Kacey nodding as a round of collective groans filled the room.

“I messed her up good...busted her fuckin’ jaw, put her in the hospital.” Kacey chewed her lip lightly as she glanced at Harper out of the corner of her eye. “That’s when shit got real bad...Not so much for me, but for Harp. Beatings from Bastien, while few and far between, were like second nature to me. I could fuckin’ take it, and most of the time I’d give it right back to him. Nico on the other hand? He had never laid a hand on Harper. But after what I did to his sister? That was my punishment. To watch him make my sister suffer for my fuckin’ mistake. Knowing she didn’t deserve any of it.”

Kacey drew in a shaky breath, wiping at her face quickly to catch a few stray tears that tried to escape as Opie gave her hand a reassuring squeeze; she continued. “It wasn’t long before I’d finally had enough of it, of everything...So Harper and I worked out a plan. It took us weeks to scrap together enough money -- along with some help from our cousin -- to get out. But not before I got the bright idea to try and make a point, by shooting up Bastien’s car; blowing it to shit. Marcus found out it was me that did it, thought Harper was involved too and basically exiled us from Mayan territory in Oakland...After that, Charming just so happened to be the one place far enough out of Mayan territory we could afford that we thought would be safe. But I promise you, we never intended to get involved like we have-- Please, Clay, this is my doing, this is all on me...Don’t take it out on Harper.” Kacey’s eyes were brimmed with tears as she looked up at her sister, who was trying to hold in her own emotions as she reached forward and pulled her into a gentle hug, being mindful of her arm that was almost done being stitched.

“Christ…” Clay sighed as he leaned his forearms onto the back of the nearest chair, pinching the bridge of his nose as he shook his head. “You didn’t think to maybe mention any of this, before now?”

“We didn’t know how we would be accepted if we told anyone...And we couldn’t afford at that point to be run out of town by another MC. Besides, we never actually intended on staying in the first place.” Kacey finished, biting her lip nervously as she glanced up at Ope who reached out to caress her cheek gently. “I know sorry doesn’t even begin to cover it, but it’s the best we have to offer...And you have to believe me when I say that we never intended for any of this to happen. We never wanted anyone else to get involved, or worse, to get hurt because of us.”

Clay sighed heavily as he straightened up, rubbing a hand across his chin as he paced back and forth, momentarily absorbed in thought before turning to Bobby and Jax. “Start makin’ calls, we’re goin’ on lockdown, effective immediately. Everyone in, no one fuckin’ leaves without an escort.” He stated firmly before turning his attention to Tig. “You, get Alvarez on the phone...this shit gets sorted, and it get sorted now.” ~

As it was, there was no need to make any calls to Alvarez, because he was the one who called Clay directly in a matter of hours, once Kacey was stitched up and resting. He pulled everyone into chapel, making Opie and Jax leave the sisters, as they took the call. Once the doors were shut and everyone sat down, Clay put the call on speaker and set it on the table.

“Alright, Marcus. We’re all here…” Clay said, leaning on one arm of his chair, running a hand over his chin. Jax sat forward, arms resting on the table as he listened.

“Listen, Clay, I want you to know I didn't order that attack on you tonight. Nico and Bastien will get their punishment, but...Man, I can’t say they were wrong.” Marcus said. “Harper broke the rules. She was in Mayan territory after we threw them white girls out.”

Clay glanced over to Jax, who merely shrugged. It could have been true, but for all they knew, Nico and Bastien were lying to have some justification for the attack. When Jax shrugged, Clay sat forward and said, “And, uh, you saw Harper in Mayan territory?”

“Nico and Bastien said she was at some auto shop just outside. When she left, she crossed the line. Listen, Clay, I don’t care how far in she went, she still crossed into our territory, cabrón.” Marcus said. Clay sighed and rubbed his face. “If I had known they were runnin’ with you, I would have called and we could have talked it out. But now? Shit, ese, now they’ve gone too far. I’m sorry if anyone took a bullet, but we need to meet…”

“Why? What do you want?” Jax asked, unable to keep the disdain from his voice. There was a moment of silence and for a minute, the club thought Alvarez had hung up. But after a while, he spoke up and said, “We want the girls.”

Opie stood and started pacing, Piney trying to calm him down while Alvarez was still on the line. Jax covered his face and sighed.

“I’m afraid we can’t do that, Marcus.” Clay said. “They’re with us now and we’re not just gonna hand them over on your say so. Maybe...Nico pushed her into Mayan territory and used that as an excuse?”

“Are you calling my nephew a liar, Clay?! We’ve had a good thing going for a while now and these white bitches have screwed with my family one too many times! Either you meet us at LKQ in Lodi tomorrow and we talk terms, or this truce is over!”

With that, this time, the silence that filled chapel was accompanied by the monotone of the dial tone as Alvarez hung up. Jax sat back and sighed. He looked at Clay and before he could say anything, Opie did it for him.

“We’re not handing them over, Clay! I don’t care! We’re not doing it!” Opie shouted. Piney managed to get a good grip on the leather sleeve of Opie’s Kutte and yanked him down, back into his seat.

“Will you shut your goddamn mouth and sit down?!” Piney gruffed at him. Opie shrugged off his father’s hand, readjusting his Kutte as Clay said, “No one here is talking about handing them over, Opie. From what we heard from the girls,” Clay stopped and looked to Jax and added, pointing his finger at him, “By the way, I want full details on what the fuck happened in Oakland from Harper.”

Jax nodded as Clay continued, “From what we heard from the girls, Nico and Bastien are just out for blood. They’d do or say anything to get them on Marcus’ bad side so they can get what they want. Bobby, call T.O. and see if him and some of the Bastards can cover us. I don’t want any surprises.”

Bobby nodded and stood, flipping open his phone as he dialed, going to the otherside of the room to talk. While Bobby laid down the plans with T.O., Clay looked to Juice and said, “Juice. LKQ. What do we know?”

Juice shrugged and said, “Lodi, neutral. From what I know it’s pretty deserted. I think the owner in on the Bastards payroll so...Throw some extra cash their way and they should be able to get the place cleared out for us.”

Clay nodded and picked up his gavel as he said, “Then it’s decided. Round up what cash we have and strap in, boys.” With a bang of his gavel, Opie shot out of his chair, bursting through the doors and down to his room to check on Kacey.

Unbeknownst to the club, when Jax left Harper in his room, she waited until she heard silence and quietly snuck out, being careful to avoid being seen through the blinds, and pressed her ear to the door to listen. Once she found out where they were meeting, she quickly rushed back to tell her sister.

“Kacey.” Harper said, softly, giving her uninjured arm a shake. Kacey stirred and turned to her sister, rubbing her eyes. Harper glanced over her shoulder, making sure neither of their men would walk in and she said, “Can you ride still?”

Kacey gave her sister an incredulous look. “I took two fucking bullets, Harper. No I can’t.” She said. Harper flicked her uninjured arm and gave her a look.

“Not today, smartass.” Harper said, lowering herself to sit on the bed next to her. Kacey shifted and sighed, pushing herself to sit up, being careful of her arm and leg. “Tomorrow. Marcus just called Clay and set a meeting at LKQ in Lodi.”

“That’s that junkyard right? Where…” Kacey’s eyes widened as Harper nodded. Kacey sighed and said, “This was Bastien’s doing…He wants them to find out and the club will let them take us!”

“Hey!” Harper hissed, gripping her hand. “I promised you no one would find out about that, and no one will...Even if they did, they wouldn’t hand us over on Marcus’ say so.”

“But they’re going to bring us with them, Harper! Of course, they’re going to hand us over!” Kacey squeaked. Harper shook her head.

“No. They aren’t. You really think they’re going to take us? Jax and Opie would never let Clay do that.” Harper said. “We’ll knock out Half-Sack, Juice, Tig, Gemma, who ever they leave to guard us. We’re going to be there and make sure Nico doesn’t rub our names out and turn us against the club.”

Kacey sighed and laid back against the pillows and said, “Harps, it’s not going to work. They’re gonna have us on lockdown. There’s no way-”

“Then we find a way.” Harper said, cutting her sister off. “We always find a way, Kace.”

Kacey chewed her lip and nodded as Opie stormed in, making them both jump. When Opie saw the girls, he stayed near the door, on the other side of the room, pacing and muttering to himself.

“Ope? What is it?” Kacey asked, chewing her lip, worried that Harper didn't get all the information. Opie shook his head and sighed.

“Nothing. Nothing. Just…” Opie stopped pacing and looked at Harper. “Harp, can you give us a minute alone?”

Harper gave him a soft smile and nodded, giving her sister a quick hug, she stood and left the room, walking out to find Jax walking back, no doubt to see her. She smiled at him as he approached and slid his arms around her, hugging her. Harper leaned into the touch and nuzzled his neck.

“Is everything okay?” She whispered softly. Jax gave a sigh and kissed her softly, trying to put out his best reassuring smile, but only ended up with a half smile before he led her back to his room and shut the door. Harper bit her lip so hard, she was sure she tasted blood, now having the same doubts Kacey had, that there was some piece that she missed. Harper sat down on the bed as Jax came over to her, squatting down in front of her.

“We got a call from Alvarez. He wants to meet.” Jax said. Harper took Jax’s hands as he continued, “He said he didn't tell Nico to shoot up the lot last night, but he heard about you crossing into Mayan territory so he doesn’t think what Nico did in retaliation was wrong.”

Harper’s eyes filled with tears as she pushed his hands away, moving around him as she stood. “So, it is all my fault…” She said, softly. Jax went to her, sliding his hands over her shoulders and down her arms.

“No. It’s not. Just-” Jax sighed and turned her around, continuing with, “Just tell me everything that happened. Did they push you across the street? Drag you? Force you in anyway?”

Jax cupped her face as Harper squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head. “No. No. Nothing like that. I-I mean...They had a hand in it, but...It was my fault.”

Jax took her hands and pulled her toward the bed, sitting her down. “Tell me, babe. Tell me everything. We need to know what to bring to Marcus tomorrow.” He said, reaching up a hand to wipe her tears. Harper sniffled and nodded, leaning into his touch. Finally, she took a breath and opened her eyes, looking at him.

“I-I went to Alvin’s to get a mod for Kacey for our birthday.” She started. “I know where Mayan territory is and I made sure to stay away from it. I thought Alvin’s was safe but...They must have had lookouts and someone told Nico and Bastien I was there.” She took a pause as she sighed, starting again with, “I was waiting for the guy to get my part and...They just walked in. Didn't buy anything...Nico started talking to me, saying I wasn’t supposed to be in Oakland and Marcus exiled us and shit. I told him I wasn’t in Mayan territory and I wasn’t breaking any rules.”

Harper swallowed, hard, and said, “They shook me up. Nico said they knew where we lived now and they could show up...I just wanted to get out of there and get someplace I knew was safe...I-I guess, I just got confused and my goto was always...Nico’s...So I started heading there and then I remembered where I was and I turned around, real quick, but...I guess they thought that was enough for them to have an excuse to run me off the road and threaten me.”

Jax sighed and pulled her closer, holding her tight as she sobbed softly. Through her sobs, her words muffled as she buried her face in his chest, she said, “Now I’ve gotten my sister shot and other members...It’s all my fault!”

Jax shook his head and kissed her cheek, lifting her chin to press a soft kiss to her lips. “Baby, it’s not your fault. Nico and Bastien pushed you to it. If they hadn’t shown up you never would have crossed.” He said, wiping his thumbs over her cheeks to wipe away her tears. “A few of the guys took a bullet but Chibs is working on them now. They’ll be fine. This isn’t your fault.”

Harper sniffled and rested her head on his chest for a while before they shifted, laying on the bed and Harper snuggled into his side, soon crying herself to sleep. ~ “Ope?” Kacey said softly as she scooted to the edge of the bed, her heart racing a million miles an hour as she watched him close the door and lean a hand against the wood for a moment, as the other reached up to rub at his forehead. Kacey’s worst possible fear flashed through her mind in that moment as she bit her lip to keep from crying...Having had just about enough of that for one day. “Shit...Clay’s gonna hand us over...Isn’t he?”

Opie’s attention snapped around immediately at her words, watching as Kacey buried her face in hands to muffle a sob. “What? God, Kay, no. No one's gonna hand you over. No one's gonna take you from me. Got it?” Opie closed the distance between the door and his bed in a few strides, kneeling in front of Kacey as he moved her hands aside, replacing them with his own as he cupped her face gently and wiped away her tears with his thumbs; kissing her.

“We’re in deep shit, Ope.” Kacey whispered as he pulled away. “I don’t think we’re getting out of this one…”

“Hey,” Opie spoke up as he shifted to sit beside her on the bed, pulling her against his chest gently as he tried to comfort her the best he could. “Everything is gonna be ok...I promise.”

“You can’t promise that, Ope…” Kacey whispered softly. “Nico and Bastien will go to whatever lengths necessary to get their hands on us. It’ll be an all out war.”

“Yeah? And they’ll have to go through me...I’m serious, Kay. I will do whatever it takes to keep you safe.” Opie stated as he pulled Kacey back a little to look down at her, his hazel eyes filled with nothing but sincerity and the love he felt for her. “I came so close to losing you today, and that feeling? It fuckin’ terrifies me.”

“I know…” Kacey said softly as she squeezed Opie’s hand. Opie kissed her temple, nuzzling her hair as he held her close, taking care not to put pressure on her wound. Kacey sniffed and wiped her face as she rested against Opie’s chest, his warm, strong arms around her helping her calm herself down. In a soft whisper, she asked, “What’s going to happen, Opie?”

Opie stared at his closed door, his mind working as he thought. He pressed his lips to her hair before he said, “I don’t know. But it’s going to be okay, Kacey. I promise you.” ~

For the rest of the night, everyone was on edge. Clay called Tacoma, SAMDINO, SAMTAZ and Indian Hills, making sure they were at least mobilized and would be there by the next night, if not there in a matter of hours. While Clay had what visiting members, who weren’t shot in the ambush, on patrol, just on the off chance Nico and Bastien wanted to come back for more, the girls managed to find sleep, Jax and Opie never leaving their sides. Gemma made sure the kitchen was stocked and made a list for the things they needed, making plans for a store run with Half-Sack, Tig and Bobby the next day. In chapel, Clay decided only he, Jax, Opie and Chibs would go meet Alvarez and Juice confirmed with T.O. that the Sons had back up from the Grim Bastards. Early the next morning, everyone started moving. Clay sent Gemma out with a few of the girls to the store, making sure Tig and Bobby knew he’d have their balls on display if anything happened to them, not needing to reiterate to Half-Sack.

By noon, SAMDINO was all set up on patrol, SAMTAZ and Indian Hills confirming they would be there by no later than 5, Tacoma there by that night. With all the protection, it made sneaking out a little harder for Harper and Kacey, especially when Clay laid down the law; Telling them they didn't go anywhere without an escort and didn't leave Charming, with or without one. After the patrol was set up, Clay and the rest headed out to meet Alvarez and Harper set her plan in motion. She managed to convince just Juice to take them home, following Harper’s truck. They made the excuse of wanting to pack some more things and once Juice took a piss break, they shot out to Harper’s bike, Kacey not being healed enough to ride on her own, making sure they were in the street before she started her bike, giving them more time to lose Juice as they got on the highway, speeding off to Lodi. ~

Clay, Jax, Opie and Chibs rolled into the empty junkyard around 3, making sure T.O. and his guys were well hidden and on patrol before Alvarez, Nico, Bastien and their VP rolled in. Jax cracked his knuckles while Opie glared at Bastien, flicking away his cigarette butt.

“Alright. Let’s all calm down and talk about this rationally.” Clay said as Alvarez and his crew turned off their bikes and made their way over. “They’re not getting the girls, so that’s not an issue.”

“Yeah, no shit. I’m not handing them over to get beaten again.” Opie snapped, itching to beat the smug little smirk that Bastien wore off his face. Jax patted his friends’ shoulder and said, “Easy, brother.”

He moved in front of Opie, half to block him and half to take his place next to Clay as Marcus and his men stopped a few feet from them.

“Where are the white bitches?” Nico asked, right off, earning a hand to the back of his head.

“Shut your mouth, ese. You’re the reason we’re even here.” Marcus hissed at him. Nico rubbed the back of his head and shuffled back a little.

“They’re not here, asshole.” Jax said, answering him anyway. “And you’re not gonna get them.”

Marcus turned back to the Sons and sighed, taking a step forward, Clay doing the same, and said, “Listen, Clay. Those sisters did a real number on this club. And they broke the rules. If I don’t punish them, I’m going to be seen as going soft on women, especially since they are involved with my nephew.”

“Well, your nephew’s a goddamn liar.” Opie said, stepping forward, Chibs jumping to him, ready to hold him back. Nico snickered and said, “Why would I lie?”

“Because if you hadn’t shown up, when she wasn’t even in Mayan territory, she wouldn’t have crossed the street, ese.” Jax said. He looked to Alvarez and said, “Alvin’s Auto is just this side of Mayan, yeah?”

When Alvarez nodded, Jax continued, “And that’s where she was. Nico and Bastien just showed up for no reason, other than she was there. If they hadn’t shaken her down, she wouldn’t have gotten mixed up and crossed the line.”

“That bitch is the goddamn liar!-” Before Nico could even get it all out, Alvarez turned to him, grabbing him by his Kutte and dragging him closer.

“What did I tell you about keeping your fuckin’ mouth shut?! I don’t give a shit if your my sister’s son, you’re gonna listen and shut the hell up! Am I clear?” Alvarez shouted, shoving Nico back, into Bastien. Nico righted himself, adjusting his Kutte and said, “Sí, Tío.”

Alvarez turned back to the Sons and said, “It doesn’t matter if it was a mistake or not. She shouldn’t have even come so close to Oakland if she didn't want to run into Nico.”

Before Jax or anyone else could say anything more, they turned as they heard Kacey cry out, being dragged along, into the lot, followed by Harper fighting off the Mayan that held her arms. Jax and Opie started for them, but Bastien and the VP both whipped out their guns, causing Clay and Chibs to do the same. The domino effect had everyone with their guns out and pointed at the opposite party. The two Mayans dragging the sisters in threw them down between Alvarez and the Sons. Harper immediately turned and spat at the man who threw her down, causing him to slap her.

“HEY!” Jax shouted, firing a warning shot between his legs. Jax took a step closer and said, “Next one goes in your fuckin’ head, dirtbag. Step back!”

While Harper’s cheek stung, she quickly scrambled over to Kacey, Opie already there, guns be damned, and helped her up. Opie held her close, tucking her into his side, as Chibs slid a protective arm around Harper’s front, keeping his gun fixed on one of the Mayans, ready to fire.

“You see? See what these bitches do?” Marcus said, pointing his gun to the sisters.

“If I’m not mistaken, amigo, it was your guys that started this. Why did they need to drag them in like that?” Clay cast a glance to the women and said, sternly, “Not that they were even supposed to be here…”

Harper gave Clay a look, turning into a brief glare, as she said, “This isn’t your fight, Clay. It’s not on you.”

“No, baby. It’s on you. You and that bitch-” Before Nico could finish, she grabbed Chibs’ gun and shot the Mayan that slapped her. He went down, screaming and clutching his leg. All at once, all Mayan guns were on her, cocked and ready to shoot.

“Say something else about my sister and the next one has you fuckin’ name on it.” Harper said, turning her gun on Nico. She gave a smirk and said, “One Shot, mi amor…”

“Alright!” Clay shouted. “Let’s put the fuckin’ guns away and talk about this!”

“No!” Harper shouted, glancing at Clay, tears in her eyes as she refused to lower the gun. “No, I’m fucking done talking!”

Harper lowered her gun and stepped forward in the empty space between the clubs. “You’re not touching Kacey ever again, Bastien. You’re going to leave her alone and forget any bad blood between the Mayans and the Sons. No resentments, no more ambushes. Truce as usual.”

Nico snorted, not lowering his gun even though the others did, and said, “Why not?”

“Because you’re going to take me and be done with it.” Harper said. There was a mix of reactions, between Kacey screaming ‘No!’, Jax’s look of shock, and Clay shouting that there’s another way and he isn’t going to allow it. Nico seemed intrigued by the offer since he lowered his gun, stepping up to her and said, “You’d give yourself up to save that bitch?”

Before she responded, Harper’s fist connected to the center of Nico’s dumb snickering face, sending him flying backwards. “I warned you, Nico.” She said, taking a step close to the Mayans. Jax stepped forward and grabbed her arm, pulling her back as Harper turned toward him.

“No! No, you’re not doing this, Harper!” Jax shouted, eyes own eyes turning red, threatening tears. “We can figure something else out. You’re not leaving with them! I won’t let you!”

Harper ripped her arm out of Jax’s grasp and shot back, “I’m not your old lady, Jax! I can do what I want! And I want to save my sister! So if this is what it takes, then I’m doing it! No one can fuckin’ stop me!”

“Harper. Harper, no, please don’t do this.” Kacey said with a whimper, struggling against Opie to get closer. Opie didn't want Bastien anywhere near where he could lay his hands on Kacey, but he ultimately lost and Kacey rushed to her, throwing her arms around her sister’s neck and sobbing. Harper took a step back, wrapping her arms around her sister as well.

“Kacey, we don’t have any other choice.” She whispered to her, struggling with her tears. “It keeps you and the club safe. I’m doing it.”

Kacey sniffled and shook her head, letting go and wiping away her sisters tears, along with her own. “No. No. There’s-There’s another way. We always find another way!” Kacey said, gripping her arms. Alvarez stepped up and said, “We’re not walking away here empty handed, Taz. Either one or both of you comes with us, or we’re all leaving here in body bags.”

Kacey glanced at him, almost pleading as her eyes teared up even more, then looked back at Harper as she listened to him continue, “Not only did you disgrace the club, you disgraced my family. A sister for a sister is agreeable with me.”

Clay grabbed Alvarez by his Kutte and said, “There’s got to be another way here, Marcus! We’ll give you more guns, more guys to move your H, something. You can’t take her!”

Alvarez shoved Clay’s hand away and said, “Clay, this only concerns you because she’s with Jax. If she’s deciding to leave him, it doesn’t concern you anymore...Not that it even really mattered.”

He looked at Harper, as she turned to him, and said, “Harper, I promise you; If you leave with us, all things are equal, all beef is settled. Truce as usual, Me cae de Mi Familia.”

Harper let out a soft sigh, a light wave of relief passing over her, were he telling the truth. She looked back at Kacey, giving her hand a quick squeeze, before turning back to Marcus and saying, “I still want to be able to lay out any fine line I have so the club and Kacey are never to be bothered by a Mayan again. Give me your word on that, Marcus...And I’ll leave with you.”

“No!” Before Kacey could claw at her sister, ready to bring her down before she’d ever let her leave. Opie grabbed Kacey and pulled her away as she screamed and cried. Jax grabbed her arm again as she took a step forward. He pulled her closer and held her tight, kissing her so deep and passionately, Harper clung to him, giving a small, soft whimper. When the kiss broke, both their cheeks were wet as they stared at each other, Jax cupping her cheek.

“You’re not staying with them, Harper. We’ll get you back. I’ll get you back.” Jax said, softly. “You’re my girl. I love you.”

Harper sniffed and said, “I love you too, Jax. I love you too.”

Bastien had enough and grabbed Harper’s arm, tearing her away from Jax. Clay, Jax and Chibs all took a step forward, but stopped short as Nico, the VP, and the third Mayan held up their guns to stop them. The men held up their hands and stepped back as Marcus patted Clay on the back and said, “I’m very sorry about this, amigo. But I gave Harper my word. The Sons and the Mayans are good again.”

Clay let out a slow breath, giving Alvarez a look as he went back to his bike, where Harper sat waiting. He gave a whistle and Nico and the others lowered their guns and went back to their bikes. Jax watched in horror as Alvarez drove off, Harper looking back until they disappeared. Kacey collapsed in the dirt and sobbed, Opie slowly lowering her down, holding her in his arms.

“This wasn’t right, Clay!” Opie screamed at him. Clay looked to Jax, a hand closing around his shoulder and said, “I’m sorry, Son. We had no other choice.”

Jax shook his head and sighed, watching the cloud of dust dissipate before turning to go back to his bike, revving it and taking off before the others.

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

TAGLIST: @jacksonroth @stacie-marie-bloom @romanchronicles @captstefanbrandt @courtrae89 @tephi101 @shieldmaiden25 @staystrongsoa @imgoldielikehawn @laketaj24 @annakay84 @grungyblonde @crazyanonymous4u

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dodgesrtdemon-blog · 6 years

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2018 Dodge Challenger SRT Demon False Advertising

The Fiat Chrysler Automobiles (“FCA”) 2018 Dodge Challenger SRT Demon (“Demon”) has been the subject of much discussion since FCA's 2017 New York Auto Show Demon introduction. Not long after its introduction, in June 2017 FCA announced the car would be a limited production run, “one and done”, of 3,300 cars. Demand for the 3,300 Demons outpaced the limited production and created a healthy aftermarket even before production ended in June 2018.

The FCA Dodge Demon production has now ended but Ebay.com and Auto marketplaces like Autotrader.com still have new and used Demons for sale. Auction houses are getting upwards of $190k for Demons that MSRP’d from $83k-98K. And FCA was able to again leverage their long lived Challenger platform and create a lot of brand "buzz".

However, all the attention the Demon has produced may also result in the Demon being the subject of nationwide dealer advertising misrepresentations.

In 2015, FCA created the Challenger SRT Hellcat and had issues with distribution, customers waiting months for cars, and dealer mark ups. FCA learned much from what occurred, and FCA designed the distribution of the 2018 Demon accordingly.

"We learned a lot when we launched the wildly popular SRT Hellcats,” said Tim Kuniskis, Head of Passenger Car Brands, Dodge, SRT, Chrysler and Fiat — FCA North America. “We’ve taken that information and created an allocation plan that is clear and concise, builds on Demon’s position as the Dodge/SRT halo and makes it easy for our customers to understand how they can put a Demon into their garage and, ultimately, out on the drag strip.” (http://moparconnectionmagazine.com/fcas-allocation-system-for-2018-dodge-demon-that-takes-aim-at-markups/)

Prior to June 21, 2017 when FCA opened Demon ordering, FCA planned Demon distribution by allotting cars to some Dodge dealers based on prior performance. Some dealers received 0 Demons, some received 1-4, and few large volume dealers received more allocations.

FCA also required any dealer who was issued an allocation for a Demon to place a customer order to claim the allocation. So the allocation went to the dealer but only if there was verified and contracted pre-sale to a consumer.

Furthermore, in an attempt to dissuade dealers from marking the Demon up over MSRP, FCA created a production queue whereby Demons ordered and sold to customers at MSRP or less would be produced first, and cars with dealer markups above MSRP produced later.

Additionally, FCA required buyers to supply notarized documents including an indemnity waiver to protect FCA from misuse of the car. In summary, FCA was attempting to control the Demon's distribution and pricing to a greater extent. And as they had done with the Hellcat previously, stated that they were staying close and monitoring the Demon’s distribution.

"When a dealership has an allocation and wants to order a Demon for a customer, it must go through the concierge program. The team there will first make sure it’s a verified sold order and then an acknowledgement document must be completed and signed by the customer and the dealer. After that, it must be notarized. This document includes some safety considerations, the Demon’s technical specifications, the options that are being ordered and the contract price of the vehicle." (http://moparconnectionmagazine.com/fcas-allocation-system-for-2018-dodge-demon-that-takes-aim-at-markups/)

All Demons had to be pre-sold to a customer for the dealer to claim the allocation and place an order. That sale required a notarized agreement by the buyer and dealer and monitored through the Demon concierge Dept. As a result, there should not have been many available Demon cars for sale at dealerships unless a buyer backed out post order, or if a dealer placed their allotment order for a "close friend" or party which resulted in the car in the showroom.

But if a buyer shopped online or monitored the Dodge Demon's availability, they would have come across many Demon ads on website marketplaces like Autotrader, Car Guru’s, and others. New and used Demons are and were available pretty much from the beginning of Demon deliveries in November 2017. At any one time, there were 150-200 new Demons available for sale, nationwide, from dealers, as advertised on Autotrader.com, for MSRP price or less. So how could there be such a supply of cars available for a pre-sold car where demand had surpassed production?

Most dealers utilize bulk uploading programs to link inventories onto the internet marketplaces like Autotrader, Car Guru’s, etc.. Dealers use bulk uploading because at any one time, a dealer might have 200-500 cars available in their constantly changing inventory. And Dealers want just about every car advertised so that buyers can see them. So why would a dealer upload and represent a car for sale on marketplaces like Autotrader if not available for sale and/or with the wrong price?

Part two of this involves FCA's internal processes which seemingly upload dealer orders into the dealers computerized inventory system when the cars leave the factory and are en-route to the dealership. This allows FCA to track and account for all the cars that leave their plants, and maybe thereafter as well.

So FCA is populating a dealer inventory with all Demons leaving the plant (estimated November 2017-June 2018) for Demons on pre-sold orders (estimated sold dates in June thru September 2017), and the dealers are linking their inventory to auto marketplaces like Autotrader. So how many of the Demons en route to dealers over the 8 month delivery time spectrum (Nov 2017-June 2018) are being input into Autotrader and advertised for sale when they were already sold 3-8 months prior to the advertising dates?

The pre-sale of the Demon was retrofitted into existing FCA delivery and inventory uploading processes. It appears nobody at FCA and the dealerships were watching this transpire, or they were watching it and did not correct it. Either way, as a result, many hundreds or more Demons not available for sale were being advertised for sale on Autotrader and the like, months after being pre-sold, and many at the incorrect prices. And potentially hundreds of respondents answering each of the dealer advertisements.

"Over the past few weeks, we have seen dozens of dealership website postings advertising 2018 Dodge Challenger SRT Demons available for sale. In most cases, if you call the dealership and ask about the Demon on their website, you will learn that the vehicle has been ordered by a customer who hasn’t picked it up yet. Basically, those dealerships are using a customer’s car to draw traffic to their website, and it is working." ( https://www.allpar.com/news/2018/01/why-you-can-still-buy-a-demon-39226)

In addition, dealerships have some editing control to change their ads after the upload syncing of their inventory into Autotrader. Control meaning ability to adjust the price, info details, availability, even areas where custom verbiage can be added to the advertisement, or even completely delete the ad.

If a buyer frequented Auto trader over the last 6-8 months or so, they would have seen hundreds of "available" cars priced at MSRP or less, with some cars advertised as "sold", some cars with "market adjusted prices", and just about everything in between. But for the volume of advertisements representing MSRP or less priced Demons available for sale, most dealers didn’t adjust what needed to be changed in the ad which is drove this entire problem. Those dealers allowed the ads to run or were unaware of the false ads running with the existing information regardless of the car not being available. Or in the case where the car was at the dealership for sale, let the ad run with the wrong price. Moreover, if they were unaware of the issue and the ad, they were made aware when the first e-mail or phone call came in from an ad respondent.

So at any one time, there were hundreds of cars unavailable for sale, being advertised nationwide as available, albeit, worldwide, with the additional problem of most of them misrepresented in price.

What does this all add up to?

In most states, advertising issues like what is referenced above are addressed by consumer protection laws and advertising guidelines. Differing by state, laws exist that are very specific to advertising and advertising claims. And as many consumer protection laws were created specifically with car dealership advertising in mind, what is pointed out above could be a major problem for FCA and dealers that did not properly manage their advertising.

What about the most obvious excuse being “FCA and the dealers made a mistake, an oversight, were unaware, etc”. Would that deflect liability? The answer is maybe or no, it might not (depending on a particular state’s laws). In many states, consumer protection and advertising laws do not recognize “mistakes”, etc. If it did allow for mistakes, then that excuse would always be abused to justify bad behavior and those bad behaviors would repeat. The mitigating or aggravating factors of the “mistakes” vs. “purposeful intent behaviors” are typically looked at within the punitive damages framework of litigation. The black and white of the violation itself carries with it that particular state’s calculation of damages and multiples of those damages if present within the law before anything punitive is considered.

So how could someone who never got to purchase a car have been damaged?

The Demon's aftermarket value has been fluctuating between $120k-199k for a car with a max loaded MSRP of $98k. If a buyer tried to buy a falsely advertised Demon at $90k MSRP and were told, the car is sold (as in 6 months ago when the dealer per ordered it for a buyer), or sorry, the car is not for sale at $90k, it’s for sale at $160k, the potential damages are the market value of the car ($199k and going up), or the actual dealer sale price ($160k), minus the price they advertised the car for ($90k) for a damage total of $109k or $70k respectively. It’s called “benefit of the bargain” and if denied it through a violation, damages may be sustained. Laws and calculation of damages differ state to state. If a buyer could not buy a Demon, yet they answered some of these false ads, the dealer may have broken that state's consumer protection laws.

The additional potential problem for FCA and dealers is that some states award multiples of the actual damages, plus attorney fees to be paid by the defendants. And the window is open as well for punitive damages depending the seriousness of the violation and intent. Remember, laws are meant to punish and dissuade violators from repeating. So a dealer who falsely advertised a $90k car and sold it for $130, now worth $200k, could be looking at several hundred thousand dollars in damages/fees to each person that answered the false advertisement for that same car. And FCA being the head of this particular “mistake” could be looking at millions if a class action develops. False Advertising cases tend to be very black and white fact driven. What occurred is in writing/print and not easily disputed.

In the past where a dealer falsely advertises something at a price and a shopper demands by law to be able to purchase it as advertised, a dealer simply has to go get the buyer "another one", and transact at the advertised conditions to remedy the issue. Then, problem solved, the buyer has the benefit of the bargain. Perhaps this is why the FCA inventory upload and Autotrader ad link has never been a problem before. If a problem arose, a dealer would simply find the buyer another of the same car or order it.

But how does a dealer remedy a Demon when most of the available cars have already been sold, a dealer cannot order anymore, and the benefit of the bargain keeps growing in value in the aftermarket? FCA is not making any more Demons. This is what was meant by FCA retrofitted the Demon into existing distribution processes without seeing the end result. The pre selling of the car required additional adjustments to the distribution process in order to avoid all these problems.

Every passing day a potentially larger damage calculation exists because of Demon rising values. Even if the value levels off, the argument for loss of benefit using the highest auction prices realized is valid and already stands at $190k+. For any single dealer, a mere handful of respondents who answered their advertisement could be a major issue.

FCA and Dodge dealers either failed to see the differences with the Demon and adjust their advertising norms and inventory process, or is it possible they knew full well about the advertising results and preferred the benefits?

“We know some dealers may be tempted to sell to the highest bidder, but we are encouraging them to leverage the Demon as a halo for both the brand and their dealership, to bring customers into their showrooms and see everything we have to offer” said Tim Kuniskis, head of passenger car brands for Fiat Chrysler North America. (http://moparconnectionmagazine.com/fcas-allocation-system-for-2018-dodge-demon-that-takes-aim-at-markups/)

So FCA by its own words stated that the car is to be used to bring people into the dealerships. Does that mean FCA permitted, or turned a blind eye to the advertisements? Will FCA claim they didn’t know what was going on for months? How can the car be used to bring people into the dealership if the cars were all pre sold and only have to be delivered to the buyer upon arrival to the dealership?

"A source inside Fiat Chrysler said the automaker is "monitoring" dealer actions in selling Demons, but there is little the factory can do beyond encouraging dealers to sell their Demons at sticker price."( https://autoweek.com/article/supercars/dealing-devil-dealers-are-auctioning-srt-demon-allocations)

Is it possible for FCA to not be aware of hundreds of new Demons up for sale at any one time? Is it possible that no single consumer called FCA customer service to complain? Did FCA not see all the articles citing the false advertisements, or the postings in car forums? And both FCA and each dealer appear to have benefitted through these false advertisements. They benefit through attaining more sales leads and traffic, they benefit through the brand being highlighted in the press, through other car sales, etc.

Tim Kuniskis states:

“We haven’t built the first one yet, but people have been talking about this car since January,” he said. “So the hype has been building and selling other Challengers. Our Challenger sales are through the roof. We’re having an all-time record year to date.”

(https://www.detroitnews.com/story/business/autos/chrysler/2017/09/17/dodge-sees-payoff-demon-hype/105745768/)

So did FCA know about it from the beginning, and or through its own inaction permit the false advertising for benefit? As it looks right now, this could easily be a Class Action against FCA since so many persons have likely been affected and the violation and damages are consistent. How many inquiries were made via these false advertisements, and moreover how many other Challengers or Dodge products were sold by virtue of disappointed Demon buyers settling for another trim level? These questions and more surround these occurrences and time will tell to what extent the dealers and/or FCA may be held accountable.

We continue to monitor this complex issue and welcome any feedback or submissions of individual experiences regarding this subject.

#demon #dodge demon #srt demon #challenger demon #hellcat #fca dodge #dodge challenger srt demon #demon lawsuit #hellcat lawsuit #challenger lawsuit

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spunkycatninja · 6 years

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My thoughts on editing

So I thought, after some prodding from a friend, that I would do a blog on editing since people might have questions who are interested in editing (for games, books, etc.). I've had experience editing a text based game and a full length novel as well as doing a lot of proofreading and creating reading/writing curriculum for the English department I work for. [Yes, I just ended my sentence with a preposition, and no, I don't care. ;) ] I also went to a university and earned a degree in English Language Learning, so I studied grammar, syntax, and all that other good stuff as well as world literature. Did I put you to sleep yet? No? Good. Now that you know my qualifications and that I'm not pulling things out of thin air, let's get on with it, yes?

There are some things to keep in mind when you decide you want to edit a game or book for someone. I won't (and can't, quite frankly) go over every single thing, but I feel the list below mentions the 5 most important “rules” to keep in mind.

#1: Know that you won't catch every single thing. I'm really good at what I do. Really, I am. I have people with PhD's asking me to go over their work to make sure everything is correct because I'm known to have an eagle eye for this sort of thing. Even with all the schooling I've had, and even though I am very meticulous, there are bound to be errors that get missed. It happens. It's ok. Nobody is perfect. Take a breath. Come to terms with that. (Something I need to keep reminding myself about as well.) If you notice that you missed a lot, try to do better next time. Maybe do some grammar review, and most importantly, read s-l-o-w-l-y.

#2: Keep in mind that the text you are working on is not yours. In other words, don't get bent out of shape if someone doesn't want to change what they have after you've offered your fixes and suggestions. As the author, they have the right to shape their creation however they please, so even if you have solid, legitimate reasons for offering a solution for a mistake/blunder/oversight/horrific abomination, they don't have to implement it even if they really should. Again, take a deep breath and know that this does not reflect poorly on you.

#3: Know your grammar. Yep, I said it. Learn grammar, dammit. It's important. It's essential to know the difference between:

A) Let's eat Grandma!

and

B) Let's eat, Grandma!

In one of those, you're a nasty cannibal that nobody wants anything to do with (especially Grams). In the other, you're grandma's favorite who will inherit everything for taking her out for a lovely meal. ;)

So many times I see people say, “Just put a comma where you'd breathe. You don't need to know grammar.” You know who says that? People who don't want to learn grammar or new teachers who've been told to tell students that statement as a way to get their point across. I can't tell you, as someone who teaches this stuff, how quickly that backfires—which is why only new/inexperienced teachers tell their students that (usually because they aren't prepared to explain). Grammar can shape the reader's experience, so knowing what to and how to punctuate can be a very powerful tool.

#4: Know when to correct and when to let it stand. But wait! Didn't I just say “know your grammar?” What is going on here? Am I pulling a fast one? No, not really. Creative writing is different than academic writing. There will be times when there is a change in beat/tone or a statement really needs to stand out, so an “extra” comma or a fragment may be perfectly legitimate. In other words, you have to take context into account when editing. This is super important! Don't just blindly correct every run-on, fragment, and comma splice. Read it. Then read it again. Look around it. Does it make sense as it is? What meaning is conveyed when it's punctuated like that? Is this getting the author's point/voice across? These are all very important questions to ask when looking at a text.

#5: Give positive feedback too, not just constructive criticism. Writers like to know what works and what doesn't for their reader. You are not just a living breathing auto-correct (unless that is what you and the author agreed on). So if you are enjoying something, don't just chuckle to yourself and move on. Make a note of it. Tell the writer. Let them know what really tickled your fancy. Moreover, they appreciate if you catch continuity errors, and while a few may disagree with this next part, I would also add that if a different perspective can be offered on what is happening, you might want to speak up. Let me clarify that last part with an example because that last statement was kind of vague.

So let's say you are editing a game where the player can be a man, woman, non-binary, etc., and the player can be whatever sexuality they desire. Said author has the player character always ogling a female companion even though the player created a gay male, straight female, or asexual character. If you are editing this game, and you see this, I would assert that you should definitely bring this to the author's attention. Because let's be real, many players would have a problem with this if this cropped up and this type of behavior did not fit their character. What the author does after that is up to them (see #2 for details).

Are you still here? Wow! That's awesome! Thanks for reading my short novel. I hope this helps anyone who has questions about editing. Keep in mind that this is just my opinion on editing. I'm sure there are others out there who don't necessarily agree with everything I've said. But if you were thinking about getting into editing, I hope I've given you some place to start with. (Oh look! I ended with another preposition again! Oh, the horror!)

#editing #editing games #editing books #grammar #grammar is sexy bitches

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fictionalabyss · 6 years

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My first comic con experience.

I first posted this Saturday, but it was incomplete. Tumblr mobile deleted HALF of what I had written / edited, and posted just the rough first draft that was incomplete. Rude. And while I said I would re-do it yesterday, I didn’t and I’m sorry.

I was drained and exhausted by the time I got home Saturday, but I had a good time.

I got three autographs!

Caitlin Glass, aka Winry. She was so sweet and happy to be there, and chatting with everyone.

We were chatted up by a girl in Caitlin’s line, Pat jokingly reffered to her as a “con crazy” but she was very sweet and kept us laughing. We enjoyed her company. She was just super excited and was working on an anime poster that would get 50+ autos. She’s been going to cons and collecting autos for something like 15 years, and it was really genuinely nice having her in my first auto line to help ease my anxiety. So to the girl who kept joking about people taking too long and then took long herself, thank you. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. You helped make my morning awesome, and you honestly helped shape my first con experience into a good one. I hope to run into you again.

Next, we saw Mark.

I bought this Pop at the con just for him to sign. He was all about laughs. He saw my post it that said simply ‘Mel’ and started asking what it was short for. When I didn’t answer quick enough, he started to guess. I expected Melanie to be his first, but it wasn’t. “Is Mel for Melon?” I chuckled and shook my head. “What then? Melange?”

Pat was laughing behind me and Mark seemed amused, so I kind of laughed and said “No, nothing that original.” When he asked again, I replied with “Mellissa. See, unoriginal.”

Before we walked away, he reached out for my hand, said it was lovely to meet me and thanked me for coming to see him. Then he turned to Pat, and did the same.

Mark was 100% there for the fans. To meet them, talk to them, and being around him is so utterly refreshing that I’m so glad I went. Next time, I’m at least getting a selfie. No excuses. In hind sight, because we left early, I had 115$ left over, so I could have, but since we were expecting to be there the whole day, and we were expecting to do more, and pat paid for a few things, I wasn’t expecting to have that extra money, or I WOULD have gotten a picture.

Last auto, was David Duchovny

I paid 100$ to have a panic attack in a lineup. Luckily, I was able to stick it out and get the auto. Also luckily I had a VIP ticket, so the line I was in went really fast.

Due to my panic attack tho, I just wanted to get in and out. One of the girls in front of me saw me in distress and reminded me to take deep breaths, and Pat pushed his way back into the line to get to me (he had left to go sit because his knees were bad from standing in that line for so long).

The people David had working with him were very kind. They helped keep the line moving quickly, but were also polite and chatty. You didn’t feel like you were being pushed along as quickly as possible, it was very smooth. By the time I reached David though, I was still shaking, still having heart palpitations, and he was distracted by the girl ahead of me, the one who reminded me to breath. He signed my picture barely even glancing at me, I didn’t get a hello or anything, and honestly, I was oddly thankful for it. I just wanted to get outside and away from people. He wasn’t a dick or anything, he was talking to people and seemed just as nice as the other two people i’d seen, he was chatting to the girl ahead of me about a possible mutual friend or something, so he must be nice, right?

Honestly, I really am very glad he was distracted come my turn, because I don’t want my first impression to a guy I’ve had a celeb crush on for 25+ years to be me puking on him ROFL. I didn’t puke, but probably only because I got out of there fast lol.

If he comes back, I’m totes seeing him again and getting a pic. He is divine (insert heart eyes here)

Up next, Mark Shep’s Q&A

After a quick rush to the least crowded bathroom I could find, We hurried upstairs to see Mark again! And holding VIP tickets, we were like 5th in line to get in. And that means..

FRONT ROW SEATS!

I’m so glad you guys helped me to get here. I went in, still shaking, still with chest pains, still not 100%, and Mark is just so god damn refreshing that by the time I left, I felt fine.

I hope this Q&A is up on youtube, because it should be.

He joked around, making fun of our version of french and the accents he heard. When asked what was worse, the fiery pits of damnation in hell, or the Montreal heat wave, he answered with how disgusting our heat wave had been. Poor Mark got to town on Thursday, our worst day, but luckily the last one.

And while it might not be the intention, I was getting the impression that people wanted Mark to be bitter about how he left the show. Or maybe dish about how this theory or that was correct. But it was simple, and he spoke honestly, and fondly about his experiences with both SPN, the cast, and Creation.

He spoke fondly of working with friends, watching them grow from boys, to immature men, to seriously married with kids. He joked about the “angel that annoyed him” but all the amazing work that Misha does and how the ‘spn family’ makes it happen. How proud he is of the change it puts out into the world one bit at a time. He spoke about how his supernatural experience changed his life for the better in so many ways.

When it came to Creation, he talked about how he wanted to see more places (like Montreal) but Creation always had said no. He wanted to meet more fans, wanted to give everyone a chance to see them. Instead of the same cities every single year and only those cities, he believed they should be visiting different places. And he didn’t believe they should be charging more and offering less time. But even them he spoke so fondly of, and mentioned how despite his feelings of those two aspects, Creation was good to him for years. He does this for us, for the fans, to meet us and talk to us. It’s why he prefers local cons that won’t cost an arm and a leg to attend. And after my own experience with him for just a moment, I know this to be true.

He talked about his favorite SPN episode, the end of season 8. He practically got a standing ovation when he mentioned that the writers wasted so much potential with Demon Dean and how that went. He talked about (and I fully agreed) how it seemed to go downhill with seasons 11 &12, where Crowley was almost dumbed down and left eating peanuts by a bar, and he was written into a corner.

I was sad his Q&A was only 45 minutes, because I could listen to that man talk for hours. About anything and nothing at all. He strolled through the crowd, he hugged people, he joked with people, he high fived a kid who was laying on the floor watching something on a tablet.

Mark is just so genuine and real. And I highly enjoyed my time there in his presence. I told pat, if he comes back, We’re going VIP again, just for him.

In short, if Mark comes to a con near you, IT’S WORTH THE MONEY. 110% worth every cent spent.

And I will be going to more cons, but maybe not planning for the whole day, because we bought those X-File event tickets, and ended up not attending. But I still have those tickets as a souvenir. A reminder of the massive accomplishment that was me attending a con, and how far I’ve come with handling my anxiety, but also a reminder that there’s more work to do. Because if there ever is another X-Files event, I’m fucking going.

-Mel

#answered #answers #long post is long

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wickedjr89gaming · 3 years

Photo

I just posted this on MTS but posting it here to in case anyone can help.

I got pink flashing! My sims were on vacation at three lakes. It wasn't the first day, day 3 I think, and they went to a lot and it started flashing pink! I was able to get them to go back to their lodgings, which was fine, unless it just didn't start up quick enough, and save and exit the game. I then tried to figure out what to do, downloaded (well re-downloaded, having it uninstall the old one) the GRM and did that, though I believe I did that before so I guess I redid it. I deleted the cache (like I always do), did hoodchecker (again, like I always do, nothing out of the ordinary), and went back in. I adjusted some settings (like hood view from extra large to large, reflections off because I don't care). I had saw something about trees contributing to pink flashing so I went into the lot that was flashing pink before and deleted some trees. Their lodgings showed pink in map view but when I went in it was fine, had them go back to the other lot that was flashing pink before and it was fine but I need to go to bed so I didn't play long but long enough to realize for some reason they can't join slap dance anymore and I don't know why. That's what they were doing I think when it started flashing pink. I went to neighborhood view and the lot wasn't pink anymore, and then exited the game because I need to go to bed. What happened? Is there anything I can do to prevent it? Or will that just happen after playing long enough (though it wasn't that long this time at all but maybe all the trees and crap? I had realized when I first got them to Three Lakes I needed to go into every lot to add the batbox and things, so the first day they were in the cabins but then the second day moved to the tents so I could add the stuff to the cabins, so I was in every lot.).

Edit the next day: Ya know, I just spent at least an hour deleting a lot of trees (not all of them of course, but I do think they went tree happy in the vacation towns, especially Three Lakes) and putting batboxes and that stuff in all the lots for all the vacation worlds. That's all I'm doing tonight but I looked up pink flashing and checked out my GRM, thinking I did it already but wanting to check it's correct, has the graphic card, but I noticed the game said "The Sims 2 Body Shop" with a drop down thing. I didn't notice the "body shop" before! So I used the arrow and saw "The Sims 2" and sure enough, nothing was checked! Like the disable texture memory etc. So I clicked auto-detect and 3 things were checked, then I "saved files". So it turns out I did NOT do what I thought I did! I have no idea if this will fix it or not but I got a page bookmarked for possible more help if it doesn't. It might be all I needed to do *crosses fingers*.

Also, I feel dumb.

#ts2 #pink flashing

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thedispatched · 3 years

Note

Ok so I finally read the soompi post defending Lucas and I wanted to share my thoughts:

They presented some strong points, but their bias is also pretty obvious and they always land with such bold assumptions that just don't make sense. It makes me a bit skeptical.

Anyway, I'll start with the information they got from the ooooshiiim account and the twitter prediction account:

The user ids they represented are def real, that can be easily confirmed by going to websites that translate user handles to ids.

But them comparing one manga character to lucas and assuming that somehow that disproves OP 1's claims is hilarious LMAO. The description of the fictional character would literally fit most male idols, idk how they went like "oh this guy severely resembles lucas, another evidence yay!"

As with the Instagram account, I can't seem to find it?? If, say, it's really OP, did they happen to find the soompi post and decided to delete the Instagram account/change the username? This is also poses the possibility that the Instagram account isn't actually real, but I guess we'll never know.

I also wish the soompi lumi provided a link to the account and some more elaboration on how their cyber investigator found it through the twitter acc's digital footprints. The manga part is very elaborate but most else is just pretty vague which I find a bit questionable?

The said fabrication of the chat records: doesn't the gaps depend on what version of WeChat it is? I searched for "wechat screenshots" and some gaps can indeed be as big as the ones in the chat records.

It would also have been better if they highlighted the gap inconsistencies/misalignments they are pointing out because personally I don't see it(but maybe it's just my eyes bluffing).

I don't have much to say about the schedule parts since I don't follow their schedules closely and I'm too lazy to search for it, but I guess what those fans said do make sense.

The voice messages: I don't have much to say either since I don't speak korean. But last time I heard the alleged voice message and the bubble one lumis are using as proof, they didn't sound alike. But then again, I don't know korean.

The sasaeng photos: I guess it also kinda makes sense. But I feel like the fan who said they got the same photo OP 1 had provided should have just showed a screenshot of her conversation with the sasaeng she claims to be selling them, I mean, the photo is already out, so what difference of not specifying which photo it is/not showing the screenshots of her conversation with the sasaeng would make?

The ring part: the soompi lumi's argument also seems pretty valid. It really does not look like his finger.

The OP 2 part: I don't know mandarin or cantonese so I can't really comment on the nuances the fans are trying to point out. I don't understand the red boxes though, were those part of the original photos OP 2 provided or are they highlights of the misalignments lumis are trying to point out?

The OP 3 part: Oh they can definitely be a guy, but it's also possible that they didn't use their actual gender in the account(I myself do that all the time, for privacy reasons). But once again, we will never know which is true.

The photo is indeed very questionable. Why is the background blurred? Why are there plushies everywhere? Why is there a reflection of what seems like a man in the glass when they're supposedly alone? But there seems to be a door and a small hallway reflected on the glass too? It looks clean and hotel-like. And the one who took the photo seemed to be sitting right besides him based on the photo's angle. If it's taken by a sasaeng staff as fans have claimed, how did the sasaeng staff secretly took a photo like that while literally sitting besides lucas and with other people around them(like the "man in the glass") without the other people in the dorm questioning what the fuck is that staff doing? But another explanation I can think of(if the photo really came from a sasaeng staff) is that a member took the photo(with Lucas being aware of it) and somehow the sasaeng staff managed to get it?

With OP 3's chat records, again I don't see the gap mistakes or misalignment they are pointing out, I again tried to look at WeChat examples on the internet and the difference between the size of the messages and the dates is a normal thing, so is the gap between 2 messages vs the gap at bottom of the chat. And the "difference" between the two s's in lucas's username they are pointing out is honestly ridiculous. The photo is taken from an asymmetrical angle, of course the sizes would look unequal.

The sleeping photos: the plushies' textures don't look the same, dorm plushie looks more rough while the plushie Lucas is sleeping with looks softer and fuzzier. And if it was taken by a sasaeng in the wayv dorm as fans have claimed, how the hell is the sasaeng within such a close proximity? There's so many people in the dorm and I doubt they'd be all asleep at that time to not notice that a sasaeng is right besides their sleeping member literally photographing him.

The jacket and photo receipts: Oh I've seen this on another article. I'm convinced with the debunking of the jacket part, and receipts are everywhere in the internet. I guess it isn't impossible that OP 3 might have just took the receipts somewhere online.

OP 4's surfing video: Yes, same pose, but different angles? That does not look exactly the same as the one he showed in his socials. But that black spot is definitely questionable.

OP 4's WeChat records: Oh another questionable one. Especially the imbalance in the color value. But once I again I think it would have been better if they provided the links to the other debunk posts they included because man I can't see the cutting traces in the chats that they are pointing out.

OP 1's second post: again I think the difference in wechat date layouts depend on the version? And why did most koreans themselves didn't question the difference in OP 1's wechat? Like if korean wechat really don't look like that, wouldn't they point it out?

"their account creation dates and account activity all falls within the same time period." Um no?? 2015, 2019, 2018 are same time periods??

In conclusion, as I said before, I think the soompi lumi presented strong points that really make you question the credibility of the allegations, but their intense bias towards lucas makes them quite questionable, too. And the way they treat every debunk post like the absolute divine truth is pretty off-putting.

I'm convinced not everything in the allegations are true. I'm just curious about the severity of his actions. Maybe he dated them, but maybe he wasn't an asshole? But if that's the case why would they try to ruin his image if he treated them right? Or maybe he really was an asshole but some of the story isn't true? Ah I'm still so confused of what to think but I believe there has to be some truth in the story, but just how bad is the truth???

thank you for sending me your thoughts! it's always interesting to see what other people think. (and sorry for the late reply!)

i'm not gonna say much as i've talk about my thoughts on the post already.

i agree about the manga, it's absolutely ridiculous how comparing one manga character to lucas debunks their claims. that's just one example of one of the far fetched assumptions that made me lean more towards not believing the article.

part of me also wondered if they created the ig account for their article but like you said, we’ll never know.

even if it doesn’t look like his finger in the messages, I’m pretty sure he mentioned winwin in the texts ??

I know some people blur the background of photos for either aesthetic, or mostly for privacy reasons.

I honestly don’t know how people are seeing a man in the reflection. It’s a literally blob. You can’t make out any (person) shape.

The jacket and receipts is the only thing I took away from that article that I actually kind of believed. I talked about this with another anon. That is super easy to fake, but the photos were also originally blurry so a “blur” around the words would be hard to solidify as evidence unless the photo is in ultra hd or something lol. But to me this is the most believable to be fake.

I once saw a twitter thread pointing out how the messages weren’t photoshopped and explained why they looked “misaligned” or whatever but I can’t remember what it said exactly besides auto translations. I won’t be able to find it again because it was so long ago :/

Someone can correct me if I’m wrong but wechat is more of a China thing? Like not a lot of people outside of China/non-Chinese use it. You’re right about why Koreans didn’t point it out, but I don’t think they’d know if they don’t use it ??

You asked a lot of questions and pointed out a lot of things that are something to think about, but I don’t think anyone has a clear answer unless you have an extreme bias.

I also wondered the severity of his actions. I think this whole thing is a mix of truth and lies. We all want to know the truth and the worst part is we never will. Like you said, how bad is the truth?

(I might edit this later and add some stuff 😅)

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glowloading346 · 3 years

Text

Phpstorm Slow

Once upon a time, PhpStorm was the IDE I loved. I thought I would use it all my life, happily without looking at any other editor.

Phpstorm Slow Cooker

Phpstorm Slow Ftp

Phpstorm Show Main Menu

Phpstorm Slow Startup

I was wrong.

I discovered the true love of my live, called Vim.

Are you confused? Are you yelling “why” to the deaf sky? What happened between PhpStorm and me? Why a PHP developer would use this… old smelly thing called Vim?

Phpstorm does a very good job of saving, importing, exporting settings so upgrading your Phpstorm version doesn't require you to redo all your settings. This is also beneficial if you are setting up Phpstorm on another computer or sharing your company coding style guide with other developers. Now you will be working with the terminal - you can use Window's cmd or the PHPStorm's terminal. I prefer to use the terminal built inside the PHPStorm - it is: better, faster and more intuitive. I prefer to use the terminal built inside the PHPStorm - it is: better, faster and more intuitive.

I was happy with PhpStorm. We had a productive relationship. Its basic rules was simple, as simple as many text editor in the computing world. You use a mouse, you click where you want to change or add something, somewhere. The basic editor. We are all used to that from the beginning of times!

PhpStorm provides the following main ways to upload project files and folders to deployment servers: Manually, at any time through a menu command. Automatically, every time a file is updated, or before starting a debugging session, or during a commit to your version control system. PHPStorm was and now is very slow under Linux (currently am using version 2016.2). All its versions were slow. Even at powerful computers with SSD. Jamming and sticking is a normal behavior for this program. It's a pity that authors do not pay attention to it. Running PHP storm on windows 10 is incredible slow. I'm running PHPstorm on my windows 10 laptop, where it is extremly slow. I made a screenshot showing the about information. I have a 64bit so I'm correct running phpstorm64.exe for this. During work I'm also using phpstorm on an.unix system, which is great. So I thought about buying a private license for me at home, but with the given performance I really cant work.

I loved the auto completion with PhpStorm! I loved the fact that you could find easily a peculiar file even within a massive codebase. I loved its stability. I liked the snippets. I loved its numerous options to refactor, generate getter / properties / methods using one or two handy shortcuts.

And now, I don’t use it anymore.

Firstly, I want to tell you my story with Vim and PhpStorm in order for you to understand how you can switch between the two.

Then I will compare the two and underline what Vim brings on the table.

Vim: the Hate before the Love

It was a newcomer who first showed me Vim.

He was a PHP developer hired in the company I was working for. I was curious, I began to look what tools and IDE he was using, expecting seeing the good old PhpStorm, like every good PHP developer who suffered too much with Eclipse.

“I don’t use PhpStorm” said the newcomer. “Vim is way better!”.

Vim! This dinosaur! This boring terminal editor! So complex nobody knows how to use it, except the perfect nerd without life / girlfriend / whatever real things!How can he compares the wonderful shiny PhpStorm with this relic?

At that point, I went in a crusade. I tried to show him how a good IDE with tons of features could suit his needs even better than this… Vim thing! Without success, I let him swimming in his ocean of mistakes, sad he couldn’t see the Truth as I was.

Time past. Days became years. Years became centuries. I began to understand that this newcomer was a very interested and knowledgeable developer. It astonished me. How can he be that good and use Vim?

Quickly we began to work on the same project: a tandem was born.

The Time of Mockeries

I mocked my work tandem. A lot. He was persisting in his mistake to use Vim and I couldn’t do anything to dissuade him.

I mocked the austerity of Vim’s interface. I mocked the fact that he had to configure everything in config files. I mocked that this configuration (in my opinion) was always broken. Who wants to code with a broken IDE? It was pure nonsense.

With hindsight, I may have been a bit jealous. He mastered a tool full of shortcuts in order to use the mouse as less as he can, and, without knowing it, I envied him.I envied him because I didn’t feel capable to learn how to use Vim in a reasonable amount of time.

More and more, my contempt toward Vim let place to curiosity.

PhpStorm and Me: the Breakdown

My attraction and curiosity toward Vim kept growing and growing.

The hate became love when I decided two things:

Quitting the company I was working in.

Learning to type like true crazy typists.

I wasn’t happy at that time, till I decided to quit the company I was working for. My decision opened new horizons and a true desire to learn more about everything.Moreover, I wanted to learn a maximum from my fellow work tandem before leaving for new and crazy adventures.

I wanted at the same moment to get rid of my very bad habit of typing with two or three fingers. I wanted to use typists techniques: using the home row keys and my ten fingers.

Quickly I began to understand the power of this typing method. You feel definitely faster and more in control of your computer. A very cool sensation!I knew as well that Vim was designed for this type of typing. Due to the pleasure I had with my new typing techniques, I slowly decided to give Vim a chance.

More and more, I asked tips to my tandem in order to learn how to use The Beast. At first, I just wanted to use it for editing configuration or text files, not for actually coding, too afraid that it would put down my productivity.

I stopped using PhpStorm in two weeks. Transfer from bitpay to coinbase.

Vim vs PhpStorm

Vim on the left, PhpStorm on the right. The clash.

Here we are finally: the comparison between PhpStorm and Vim. Do you want to replace PhpStorm with something more powerful and versatile? Do you want to be sure that Vim is the good choice?

I won’t cover here how to do a PHP IDE out of Vim since I wrote another article on the topic.

Who’s in Charge: You or Your IDE?

An IDE is obviously very important for developers. It’s the tool which helps us doing what we like: coding. It simplifies our lives, automatize all these boring stuff you repeat over and over again.

Therefore your IDE should reflect the way you are coding. It should give you the choice for you to do what you want, the way you want.

PhpStorm doesn’t really give you many choices: it is a bunch of tools and you have to stick with them.I never used 70% of it. I know a lot of shortcuts and I am able to navigates in the panels without even using the mouse. However I never used the composer tools / terminal / git GUI / database interface thingy integrated in PhpStorm.

I couldn’t configure that. I couldn’t choose to install what I wanted, what I needed. PhpStorm was choosing for me.

The result? Many panels and notifications popping, a lot of visual noise which was totally useless for me. Perfect to lose focus.

Some may argue that PhpStorm is really configurable compared to other IDE. It is nothing compared to Vim.

Vim has a great community who develop a LOT of plugin. Nowadays you can install them and get rid of them by typing two words. Not even command lines. Words.

You can choose exactly what you want and what suits you. You can even modify it easily and extends it. Vim can be bent following your wishes.

You are the master.

PhpStorm Only Allow You to Code in… PHP

Another point which was bothering me for a long time. Of course you can use it to write HTML / CSS but you won’t have many tools for those. And what about Go you want to learn so hardly? Ruby? Basic?

Vim is an editor, not an IDE, but you can make an IDE out of it for every language you want. Right now, I have very good auto completion systems for PHP, JavaScript, Go and Ruby.

Even better: the plugins can be activated depending of the file type you are editing. You will never have the Ruby autocompletion while editing a PHP file. Sweet, isn’t it?

I have tons of plugins for refactoring, creating snippets and so on. No need to change IDE and get use to different interfaces. With Vim I can switch from one language to another transparently. Believe me, it’s awesome.

When I open Vim, everything I need is there for whatever language.

Vim is Light

Each time I open PhpStorm I have the impress that my computer is running a marathon. And he doesn’t do well.

Even on my very lightweight arch linux / i3 system (running on very good hardware), everything suddenly slow down. Welcome to the Matrix, or the stop motion applied to computing!

Sometimes I like to open two projects at the same time to get some configuration or code from one to another. Sometimes I want to open even more if I need to work with multiple micro services.

With PhpStorm… you know what I am talking about. Your memory scream, your CPU burns some calories, your vans consume more electricity than your fridge.

In comparison, Vim is a feather. So light! You can run multiple instances of it if you want, your computer won’t slow down.Try to use Vim, then come back to PhpStorm and you will see what I’m talking about.

Your hardware will love Vim.

Vim is Fun

This is something I didn’t imagine: Vim is really fun to use. This is something my work tandem told me, and it’s so true: it’s basically the gamification of coding.

It is time to precise a bit how to use it. There are many modes in this editor:

The Normal mode is for executing commands (delete words, lines, paragraphs and a lot of others). Basically, it’s to edit your text (or code).

The insert mode is there for you to concretely write.

A simple separation of concern and, believe me, it’s brilliant!

This is Vim: you can learn to be productive with it in a couple of minutes (I promise). Get used to it may take a bit more time, and then you will learn new stuff all your life. The whole editor feel so logical that you will come up with new way to do things without even asking Google. Yes, by yourself, only!

Like: “Maybe if I press those keys, it will do that eventually. Yes it does! I’m a genius!”

Indeed, Vim is so sweet, you can talk to it like an old friend. For example: you want to delete all characters from your cursor till the coma? In Normal mode, type dt,, which means delete till ,. You can do as well dtf, which delete till f. Magical!

In comparison, PhpStorm is boring. To me, 70% of the tools are useless (by adding a useless graphical interface on top on very efficient terminal tools) and the editor itself use the mouse extensively, like 99% of the editors in the world.If shortcuts were invented, it’s because it’s more convenient and fast to use the keyboard to execute actions. Vim definitely nailed that.

If you want to build a complete Mouseless Development Environment, you might be interested by this book.

To be honest with you, I always have the impression I’m some sort of a hacker doing crazy things with my keyboard in three different Vim instances. Of course I am just writing down my shopping list but… who cares? The feeling is great!

I am always happy when I discover a new shortcut or way to do thing even more easily. It’s like finding a secret way to beat a video game even faster! Gamification, I tell you.

PhpStorm Cost Money

PhpStorm is not free, far from it. Even if it’s pretty affordable (around 100euro), you pay only for one year. Welcome to the era of renting instead of acquiring…

If you want a Go, Ruby or whatever IDE for whatever language, you have to pay. Again.

Vim is free, available on everything (linux, windows, mac).

You Might be Faster with Vim…

Honestly I don’t care that much if I’m faster with it. To me, being fast doesn’t mean being a good developer. Our brain is more valuable than our typing speed.

However you will feel fast and precise, which is a good cherry on the cake. Adblock plus google chrome. Especially when you have to move a bunch of classes and renaming namespaces again and again. You know, what we call refactoring: Vim can simplify that and many other things.

Vim Allow You to do More than PhpStorm

Here some examples what you can do with Vim but not with PhpStorm:

You can search through open tabs (“buffers” in Vim), files and entire projects very fast with the fzf plugin. Even faster than with PhpStorm.

You can go directly to php.net with a keystroke when you are on a method / function / whatever to see its definition. Very handy.

You can run Vim with a GUI or in the terminal. Doing the last will open a lot of possibility like the winning combo zsh / tmux / Vim. You will have a lot of flexibility and fun with those tools, I can guarantee it!

Since a tonne of plugins exist for Vim you can extend the possibilities as you wish. You can even write little functions which extend / alter whatever you want.

The possibilities are infinite.

A Great Community

A lot of people use Vim and will be happy to help you. You have access to a lot of plugins for every development language you dream of.

Some will argue (as I did) than Vim is too old. It is a strength! Think about it: what software is more stable than the one tested for decades?

It is very stable indeed, thanks to the community. If you are stuck, if you have a problem, you have tons of resources where you can found the solution.

Neovim!

Vim is old and maintained for a long long time, which means as well that its codebase is (apparently) not-that-goodish.That is why a bunch of people rewrote the whole editor. It’s called Neovim and it’s compatible with every Vim plugin available.

Even if it’s still in beta I didn’t have any issues with it. It works like a charm.

I want to be in love with Vim! Tell me how!

First you need to be motivated and learn how to properly use it. It is less complicated than you think.

You Work on Linux or macOs? Try Vimtutor!

First, go to your terminal.Then type vimtutor. Press enter.Here we are!

Vimtutor comes with a lot of linux-based distribution. It is a 15 minutes tutorial for you to learn Vim’s basics. After that, you can begin to use Vim for whatever need you have.

15 minutes! Who said that Vim was complicated?

You don’t believe me? Just try it!

Get Inspired by Other’s Configurations

Vim alone is a bit… too weak functionality wise. You need plugins, and the best way to find what you need is to look to configurations from other developers.They are most of the time hosted publicly on github.

Here my personnal config.

Be careful though. It is tempting to copy entire configuration from others but you will be lost very quickly. Vim needs to be personalized. It can suits you if you take the time to tune it depending on your needs.

Take the configurations available on the web as inspirations. Copy them little by little, plugin by plugin. Test it, try to understand what the plugin is doing. Take your time. Read the plugin documentations. In short: do everything with Vim you should do as a developer. Analyzing, acting step by step and see if it suits your need.

Vim Cheat Sheet

My advice for the beginning: having a cheat sheet printed you can refer to. You can find a lot of them everywhere.

It will help you memorising the basics of Vim and experimenting to be more effective and have even more fun!

Vim is a Winner! But… Do I Miss PhpStorm?

I hope you are now ready to try Vim, and maybe replace PhpStorm!

Now let be honest with one another:

Yes PhpStorm has some tool that Vim doesn’t. The search plugin I use for example has less options than PhpStorm’s search… but is so faster, you’ve no idea.

In PhpStorm the auto completion was slightly better… in 2017. In 2019, Vim auto completion plugins are as good as any IntelliJ plugin.

You need to spend time configuring Vim to have a powerful PHP IDE.However, it means as well that you can personalize it the way you exactly want it to behave. An IDE should answers your need, not imposing them!

After three weeks using Vim as my PHP IDE, I tried to reinstall PhpStorm. I used it for ten minutes… before coming back to Vim.

I won’t get back to you, PhpStorm. Never. Bartender for wedding near me. I am a faithful man to Vim now.

This section provides the list of solutions and workarounds for common problems with deployments in PhpStorm.

Collecting PhpStorm deployment logs

If your issue is not addressed in this section, contact our support engineers. If asked to provide deployment logs, follow the instructions to collect them.

Select Help | Configure Debug Log in the main menu.

In the Custom Debug Log Configuration dialog that opens, add the following lines depending on the issues you are experiencing:

Issues with deployment/synchronization: #com.jetbrains.plugins.webDeployment

Issues with issues with SSH/SFTP: #com.intellij.ssh

Click OK and reproduce the issue.

Locate the log file by selecting Help | Show Log in Explorer (for Windows and Linux) or Help | Show Log in Finder (for macOS).

If necessary, you can locate the log manually:

Syntax

%HOMEPATH%.<product><version>systemlog

Example

C:UsersJohnS.PhpStorm2021.1systemlog

Syntax

~/Library/Logs/<product><version>

Example

~/Library/Logs/PhpStorm2021.1

Syntax

~/.<product><version>/system/log

Example

~/.PhpStorm2021.1/system/log

The most recent log file is named idea.log; older files names end with a number, that is idea.log.1, idea.log.2, and so on. In most cases you need only the most recent one.

Attach the log file(s) to the issue or forum thread.

General troubleshooting

Deployment is slow or fails

Deployment can be a resource-intensive operation, especially if a project or a deployment server contains lots of directories and files. In the Settings/Preferences dialog Ctrl+Alt+S, navigate to Build, Execution, Deployment and explore the following configuration options, which can speed up deployment:

Exclude directories that are not needed from deployment (for example, images). This can be done from the Deployment: Excluded Paths Tab page.

On the Options page, clear the Overwrite up-to-date files to skip uploading files that don't need to be uploaded.

Depending on the server, switching between active and passive transfer mode in the advanced FTP settings may help. This can be done by toggling Passive mode in the Deployment: Connection Tab for the server.

Limit number of concurrent FTP connections. This can be done by toggling Limit concurrent connections and setting the number of connections (usually 3-5 concurrent connections is OK for any server if you experience problems with a greater number of connections) in the Deployment: Connection Tab for the server.

File transfer becomes unresponsive

This can happen in case PhpStorm tries to resolve an IPv4 host via IPv6. By default, PhpStorm only listens for incoming IPv4 connections. To make sure IPv6 is disabled, check the PhpStorm JVM options:

Select Help | Edit Custom VM Options from the main menu.

In the .vmoptions file that opens, make sure the -Djava.net.preferIPv4Stack=true line is present.

Restart PhpStorm.

Otherwise, to enable IPv6 support, delete the -Djava.net.preferIPv4Stack=true line. In this case, make sure to add the IPv6 entry for your host to the /etc/hosts file.

Download/upload actions are not available

Download/upload actions may not be available because of a missing mapping. If a file or folder that you want to download is not configured in any mapping, PhpStorm will not download it. Mappings can be configured as described in the Map project folders to folders on the server and the URL addresses to access them.

For some actions, a default deployment server needs to be selected on the Deployment page of the Settings/Preferences dialog.

Some folders are not deployed

A common cause for folders not being deployed is when they are explicitly excluded. To solve this, in the Remote host tool window right-click the given folder and select Remove Path From Excluded from the context menu. Once this is done, the folder will be deployed.

This can also be configured from the Deployment page of the Settings/Preferences dialog Ctrl+Alt+S. Open the Excluded Paths tab for the server and remove the excluded path. Note that both the source and the target folders should be checked. Folders can also be excluded by name on the Options page under Exclude items by name.

Sharing deployment configurations between projects

Deployment Servers are configured at the IDE level: they are available for all projects and can be shared between them.

Note that only the name and connection details (specified on the Deployment: Connection Tab tab) are shared between projects: mappings and excluded paths are project-specific and have to be configured separately. Using this approach, connection details have to be entered just once, while mappings and excluded paths can be configured per-project, sharing the connection details. This can be useful when projects share the same deployment server and use the same connection settings. If connection settings are different between projects, they have to be configured for every project separately.

If necessary, you can set a server to be visible in a single project by selecting the Visible only for this project checkbox on the Deployment: Connection Tab.

IDE settings do not allow me to configure mappings

The default new project settings are used to configure the default settings for new projects and do not affect the currently opened projects. To configure settings for the current project, use the Settings/Preferences dialog Ctrl+Alt+S.

Can subfolders within the same folder have different deployment settings? Can a local folder be deployed to multiple locations?

When uploading folders and configuring mappings, note the following:

You can specify mappings for specific folders to different paths on the deployment server. This can be configured on the Deployment: Mappings Tab for the server.

You can exclude specific folders and files from being uploaded/downloaded. This can be configured on the Deployment: Excluded Paths Tab for the server.

You cannot upload the same folder (or subfolders) to different sites at once. A separate deployment configuration needs to be created for each of them and uploaded to each site one by one.

If this is what you want to do, we recommend automating the process with a capable tool. For example, Phing has an FTP task which can be used from PhpStorm. Within PhpStorm, you can use the Sync with Deployed.. command and select from available deployment servers for every upload.

I cannot assign a keyboard shortcut to the Sync With Deployed to My Server menu item

It is not possible to assign a keyboard shortcut directly to the Sync With Deployed to <server name> command, only to the generic Sync with Deployed to.. command, which will then display a popup menu with the list of servers. Refer to Configure keyboard shortcuts for details.

If you do wish to assign a keyboard shortcut to a specific deployment server, it is possible to record a Macro and assign a shortcut to it instead:

Select Edit | Macros | Start Macro Recording and start recording a Macro.

Select Tools | Deployment | Sync With Deployed to <server name> and close the sync window.

Stop recording the Macro by selecting Edit | Macros | Stop Macro Recording from the main menu.

Set the Macro name, for example Sync with <server name>.

Open in the Settings/Preferences dialog Ctrl+Alt+S, select Keymap and find the Macros node. From the context menu of the new sync Macro that was just recorded, select Add keyboard shortcut and provide the desired shortcut .

How do I deploy a database using PhpStorm?

There are a couple of ways to deploy a database using PhpStorm:

Make use of the integrated database tools and run the required DDL and SQL statements manually.

Work with Phing and set up a DBDeploy task.

Can I run a script or executable on my files before the upload occurs?

Things like minifying CSS, optimizing images, encoding PHP files using IonCube and so on are actions that you may want to execute before an upload happens. The best approach to do this is run them not when the upload is started, but when the files are changed, by using File watchers in PhpStorm. When the time comes to upload them to a deployment server, upload the processed files instead.

Note that the Skip external changes checkbox must be cleared on the Options page for this to work.

Sometimes files are not uploaded automatically

By default, PhpStorm uploads the files if they are changed by some external processes (VCS, transpilers, and so on). If the files are not uploaded, make sure that the Upload changed files automatically to the default server on the Options page is set to Always and the Skip external changes checkbox is cleared.

Can I run pre- and post-deployment actions?

It's possible using Run/Debug configurations. You can create a fake Run/Debug Configuration, or a Run/Debug configuration that should be the last step, and add the required steps under Before launch.

As an alternative, we recommend using Phing or any other build system to execute complex sequences of steps.

FTP troubleshooting

FTP issue: Invalid descendent file name 'http:'

When a deployment server has been configured or when using the Test Connection button in the project settings, the Invalid descendent file name 'http:' error is displayed. Note that all file names with a colon : in the name will be considered invalid.

This can happen if a file containing http: Pioneer desserts. in its name exists in the project. The library that PhpStorm uses to connect to FTP (Apache Commons VFS) cannot read the contents of a folder containing such a file, which causes the operation to fail. The only solution is to remove the file containing http: in its name from the project.

PhpStorm seems to connect to the server but can't list files or perform upload

Phpstorm Slow Cooker

This may be because the deployment server requires a so-called passive FTP connection. To set this mode, select the Passive mode checkbox in the Deployment: Connection Tab for the selected server.

Phpstorm Slow Ftp

Limiting the number of concurrent FTP connections may also help in this situation. To do this, open the Deployment: Connection Tab for the selected server, select the Limit concurrent connections checkbox, and set the number of connections (usually, 3-5 concurrent connections is OK for any server if you experience problems with a higher number of connections).

Phpstorm Show Main Menu

Deploying files when changing branches using Git checkout

There are a couple of ways to go about deploying files when switching between branches using Git checkout:

One way is to configure deployments to always upload files and external changes. To do this, on the Options page, set Upload changed files to the default server to Always and clear the Skip external changes checkbox. Note that this will upload all files to the server when switching branches.

Use git-ftp. It performs minimal uploads and is also able to mirror file and directory removals.

Phpstorm Slow Startup

Known issues

Is rsync supported to synchronize files and folders with a deployment server?

No. If you feel this should be part of PhpStorm vote for this issue.

0 notes

studiousbees · 7 years

Text

[App Review]—LingoDeer (Japanese)

**EDIT** The LingoDeer team read my review and fixed some of the things I pointed out :>

Learning Japanese?? I was originally going to review LingoDeer’s Chinese lessons next, but I was contacted by the team who developed the app and the lessons after the read my review on the Korean course. They asked if I was learning Japanese and, if so, if I could do a similar review for the Japanese course (please note that I have never done any sort of sponsored review or anything like that; I review what I want and I review them honestly). I said I would, so here we are! Maybe this will get me back on track with studying Japanese, anyway. Those of you who were around during this blog’s early stages will remember I was studying Japanese for a while, but I had to abandon it because I just didn’t have enough time ㅠㅠ Welp, it’s time to start again!

I do want to note that, other than the obvious language difference between this review and my review of LingoDeer’s Korean course, there is also a huge difference in my perspective between both of these reviews. Having studied Korean for over seven years now, my LingoDeer Korean review was done more from a been-there-done-that perspective. A lot of my intuition as not only a long-term Korean learner but also a Korean grammar blogger and a language teacher went into it. However, I am nowhere near the same level in Japanese, so this review is written from much more of a beginning learner perspective, with a bit of my teacher brain as far as what is and isn’t effective for language learning thrown in.

Now that I’ve gotten that out of the way, let’s jump on in!

What is LingoDeer?

LingoDeer is a language-learning app for the three major east Asian languages, Korean, Mandarin Chinese, and Japanese. It is developed by teachers of those three languages, so that’s pretty cool!

Very first impressions

As I said in my review of LingoDeer (Korean), the LingoDeer app’s design and interface is very clean and visually appealing. I do get some loading screens still, but none of them are super long unless I’m on my home Wifi. I’d been thinking about maybe getting a new, stronger router anyway...

Learning Hiragana and Katakana

You can start with learning Hiragana and Katakana, or you can just skip it and go straight to learning the actual grammar and other material. For the sake of this review (and since my Katakana memory has always been pretty bad), I did the Hiragana and Katakana courses. Before you start a level in the Alphabet section, you can flip a toggle for whether you want to learn Hiragana or Katakana. Ultimately, though, it doesn’t really matter since they are presented together and you will be asked to match the corresponding Hiragana and Katakana. I have actually never used a source that teaches them together in this way, and I really like it because it made it easier for me to remember the Katakana. The main differences between doing one writing system vs. the other (for example, choosing to do them in Katakana mode instead of Hiragana) is that you will only be presented with stroke order diagrams for the set you chose, and they will occur more frequently. At the end of the day, the choice is yours.

Again, the sound files in this app are really great, so you can hear the sounds very clearly. My only real issue with the Hiragana/Katakana-learning exercises is when you have to match multiple pairs at once. There are a few screens like that at the end of each level, and if you want to hear the readout of the sounds as you do them, you have to flip a toggle on the screen because the sound is off by default. Since this is a language learning app, I really think it would make more sense to have the sound on by default. Also, you have to flip the toggle every new screen rather than flipping it once and that being your setting for the level. Having to flip it every single time just to get the automatic audio got annoying pretty quickly.

Just as the Korean course had extensive Hangul charts, there are interactive Hiragana and Katakana charts in the Japanese course. You can click on the individual spaces to have the sounds read out, which I liked. However, there seems to be a little bug such that sometimes when I go to the charts they don’t read out when I press the spaces. In those cases, I have to restart the app for the charts to work properly.

Finally, there are notes explaining the Japanese writing system, and they’re quite extensive! This app certainly does give a lot of information.

Getting in to learning

This app is currently structured 100% for beginners in the sense that you must start with the first level. There is no way to test up into a higher level. This test up feature is there in other comparable apps, so its absence here is very noticeable. Until such a function is (hopefully) added in, anyone who wants to use this app will have to obligatorily do the lower levels first regardless of their skill level.

All of the actual learning levels have grammar notes at the beginning, which you can access if you swipe to the tile left of the first lesson tile. I think it would make more sense to have the notes tile be the first one you see, as it is easy to miss and the notes give a ton of important information that beginning learners really should read. The notes are detailed and very helpful, but there are some typos here and there, and I noticed some unusual Romaji (though I’m not sure if it’s just that they were using a different Romaji system... are there multiple Romaji systems??). The word for “China,” which I had always seen before in Romaji as “ch(y)uugoku,” was written as “tyuugoku,” which threw me off.

When you get into the learning levels, you can choose how you want writing to be displayed, and there are a TON of options! You can go for full on normal Japanese writing with the Kanji and all, Kanji with Hiragana (my setting), Hiragana only, Romaji only, Hiragana and Romaji... you can choose what would suit your needs best and adjust as you become more comfortable reading Japanese.

As for actually learning, there is a variety of activities including word-picture matching, listening and choosing the right answer, inserting grammatical elements into the right places, and unscrambling sentences, and more. The only thing that I really wish the learning levels has is some speaking practice! I’ve said it many, many times before, but HelloChinese is a similarly structured app that has speaking practice built into all of its levels. If LingoDeer also had it, I would be so happy~ Also, as I mentioned in my LingoDeer (Korean) review, this app is fairly quiet in the sense that it does not automatically read out sentences for you on some screens, and there is no indication given that you can access audio for those screens. It would be nice if there was maybe a little play button to make it clear that you can hear audio on those screens with no auto play, or maybe an overall option (that could be toggled on or off as you please, of course) for automatic audio playback.

One other little bone I have to pick is that, when doing syllable-by-syllable unscrambling of sentences, the app starts indicating what the first syllable you pick should be within about three seconds. Maybe some people like the hints, but I could do without them for sure. I would be happy if the time to hinting was increased, or if there was a toggle to turn it off completely.

Upon completion of a level, you can get up to five stars. When you first start studying, you set a goal for how many stars you want to get each day, and if you choose the lowest possible number (five) and do a single level perfectly, your study for the day is complete.

The biggest error I have seen in this course so far is that the notes in the “Household” section (as far as I got so far) are missing ㅠㅠ I sent a report in, so hopefully that’s fixed soon. Considering how responsive the LingoDeer team has been to me so far, I’m fairly confident it will be fixed soon.

Overall, I like the structure of the lessons and the pacing. I could definitely see myself using this app long term!

Review and stats

(This section is more or less copypasta from my previous review, so feel free to skip it if you read that one!)

If you want to go back and review vocab or grammar flashcards, there is a section where you can do that. The review questions are the same as the regular level questions. You can choose to do a single lesson, or you can combine lessons for a comprehensive review. Also, there is spaced repetition listening practice, which is pretty cool. You can choose how you want the words and sentences presented, with Japanese, the English translation, or just the audio and no writing. After listening, you can reveal the correct answer and rate your recall/performance “weak,” “good,” or “perfect.” You can also choose if you want a word or sentence-focused review. Seems like a good feature.

As for stats, you can check how long your learning streak has been ongoing, and it even tells you how long you have studied for. There are some little achievement badges for things like learning time and streaks also. You can also set a time for reminders to study if you would like. However, I notice that the app is not synced to your phone’s clock but some other clock, perhaps that of the server it’s hosted on. So, for example, if I use the app in the morning here in Korea, it will still count any stars I get to the previous day since the app’s date hasn’t rolled over yet. There is not an option to change the app’s clock to sync to your time zone as far as I can tell.

Oh, and there is offline learning! You can download the course take it with you if you are, say, going on a flight or off to some remote area where there is no internet or cell service!

Conclusion

LingoDeer’s Japanese course is really fun and easy to use! The grammar notes are very informative, and the lessons are not too heavy so they don’t feel burdensome or intimidating to a new learner. The pros and cons:

PROS:

GREAT audio files

Lots of good notes and information on grammar

Spaced repetition practice and flashcards

Study reminders

Lessons that are informative and useful without being overwhelming

Offline learning

CONS:

No function to test out of lower levels

Typos in notes and other places

App clock not synced to phone clock

No speaking practice

#studyblr #langblr #learning japanese #japanese resources #lingodeer #language learning apps #app review

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