"Mom! I already told you! I'm too old for a babysitter!" I groaned.

"Come on Corey, you know we just want you to be safe, okay?" His mom said before getting her coat on and getting ready to leave, "Your Babysitter should be here any minute now, oh wait, here she is!"

“The Many Faces Go To War: Chapter 2”
By = Fayanora

Chapter Two: The Return of Magic

Notes: This is the second chapter of the sequel to “The Many Faces of Har---er, Adira Potter.” If you haven't read that series yet, this one isn't going to make much sense.

Also, a reminder for anyone who forgot: the person formerly known as Harry still exists, she's just transgender in this one, her new name is Adira.

Text in 'Italics and British quotes' is Parseltongue.

A Game Of Cards

Chapter 3

" You got me a BIKINI?"

Jake looked at the red string bikini in utter disgust as Jen chuckled. He was now annoyed at Jen.

" This is too much Jen! First you cheat and paint my nails but I don't utter a word. You make me wear heels but I don't complain much. Now a bikini? What are you trying to do?"

" Okay. I agree to cheating in poker. I only did that because I wanted to paint your nails since three years and I could never make you agree to it."

" So that is why every bet we make involves you painting my nails?"

A Game Of Cards

Chapter 2

"Wake up you dumbass! We've got a week to enjoy!"

Jake rubbed his eyes open and found Jen sitting on his stomach. He let out a groan of despair as he had planned of sleeping longer. Jen moved and stood on the floor, giving Jake room to get up. Jake threw a pillow at Jen and walked into the bathroom.

" I'll be downstairs making breakfast. Come soon!"

The genius Rick Sanchez has difficulty controlling his violent and sociopathic son. Desperate to save his son from the police and from the Council of Ricks, he makes a decision that will affect himself and his family forever.
Fanfiction: Rick and Morty

Hi My name is Kaleb, and I had quite a normal life. I had many friends at school and even got good grades. My Mom and Dad still lived together, and that means that I was from a stable home. I am sixteen years old, and I am looking forward to my birthday, when I become seventeen. Then I can decide more. Then what is the problem? Why this story?

“But mom do I really have to take the twins to cheerleading practice again? All I do is drive them around. Ever since when I was in sixth grade until now; I am a high school freshmen now, I had to save all my baby-sitting money to buy this car.” 

I look at mom, she puts her hands on her hips and gives me that look which means if I say another word I am dead. “Now enough of that young man, I know you are 13-years-old now. I also know you think you are so grown up!” I watch as mom is staring eye to eye with me, which is never a good thing.

Chatty Kathy

Jonny Steele was “huge,” he was a legend in our neighborhood. He was thirteen like the rest of my friends, but as I said, he was huge; five foot seven, one hundred and fifty-five pounds. Jonny was a lefty at the plate, though I think he wrote righty in school. Anyways, he was at bat, and I was third base coach.

Alternate version of chapter 38 of “The Many Faces of Har—er, Adira Potter”: “I Solemnly Swear I Am Up To No Good”

The old lady made it extremely clear the following morning that I would be traveling with her to Front Royal to have Thanksgiving dinner with her extended family. It would be the first time in a very long time that her entire family would be together for something, and the old lady thought it would be a good experience for me.

After my body slamming experience, I was transported to a hospital. It was obvious that the police officers didn’t notice the bruises and scarring on my arms and neck moments after I walked onto the farm due to their reaction when they went to cuff me. They raised my hands to cuff them, my sleeves fell down a bit and the rest was history. Instead of a trip directly to the local jail in a cop car, I got to make a pit-stop at the hospital in an ambulance. The bad part about this was that it gave Frank a seemingly endless supply of ideas about who I could be. And it wasn’t good.