#my brain is static tv in lectures

[ahemnaaaasebenyaaaa]

WHY WHY WHYYYYYYY AS AN ENGLISH STUDENT

I SIT THROUGH 2 HOURS OF DRAMA LECTURE AND BE LIKE DAAMN SHAKEIE WAIKIE WHY YOU SPEAKING GIBBERISH THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE ENGLISH THE FUCK .??????!!!??? ༼⁠;⁠´⁠༎ຶ⁠ ⁠۝ ⁠༎ຶ⁠༽

[imajinacxic888]

You only got kicked out of the library when it first happened, brain half-functioning after staying awake for more than 20 hours, an array of textbooks on your arms, the only coffee cup you managed to sneak out your part time job had long since wear off, you were just ready to get home and crash

Suddenly a person approached you, you couldn’t even make out their face but something in the way they carried themselves should’ve ringed a few alarm bells in your head that is if you could muster the brain capacity to care

“Hey, do you happen to know what year it is?” their accent was familiar but foreign at the same time, though you weren’t sure if it was for the lack of neurons working on your brain or not

It took a moment but once you finally registered the words the only coherent though you could come up with was ���time traveler’, at the same time you remembered a promise you made with yourself long ago, in front of a tv with much static on it and you couldn’t really remember what show you were watching that prompted it but a promise was a promise after all

“Miss?” the stranger asked uncertain, you must have space out for a bit

“Last I checked April 20th 2012, the current president of the United States of America is Barack Obama, uhhhh the touch screen is getting pretty popular, what else… 127 people were killed when a plane crashed in a residential area near the Benazir Bhutto International Airport near Islamabad, Pakistan. And if I remember correctly Tens of thousands of people demonstrate in Tahrir Square against continuing military rule in Egypt.” You shrugged getting even more tired after having to retrieve that information from your memory “Anyway, hope I helped, I will take my lead then”

You don’t remember if the stranger said anything after that but what you do know is that by the time you closed the front door of your dorm you collapsed on the floor, only waking up the next day because your roommate couldn’t pass your body to get to her lecture

------

The second time it happened you were better rested but still not nearly enough to be completely healthy, but that wasn’t new,

On your way to the mall near your campus another stranger approached you, their clothes not so different from what you would see on the way to class, but they just had something that didn’t quite fit with your own

“Hello there, would you be so kind to tell me the date?” you still couldn’t quite place the accent but now it was clear that it wasn’t just your half functioning brain fault, the way they carried themselves was almost the same as the other fella you talked to, or so you think you can barely remember that interaction

“October 27, 2012, I don’t know the hour, the president is still Barack Obama, the touch screens are getting even more popular as are the 3d printing advances, when I checked the news, a protest was happening in Spain Thousands of people join protests budget cuts in Madrid and ask that the government quit. Riot police greet the demonstrators- Oh! Several injuries occurred as police used rubber-coated steel bullets and tear gas to disperse people at the Olympia Stadium in Rustenburg, South Africa. I don’t have much more than that though”

Now you could see how the gears in the stranger’s head were turning, they didn’t even bid you a farewell before sprinting to the station, later that day a major earthquake would hit Canada sending a tsunami to the north coast. You wonder what could’ve possibly changed after their interference

------

After it everything was the same old dance, sometimes they would catch you on the street, other times they enter the store you would be working at, you were never really sure if they put a tracker on you or you just happen to be at the right place in the right time but in anyway, they always would return,

You never saw the same people every time, but it made your day when you occasionally recognize the stranger that approached you

They were rare occasions when the person would curse under their breath before disappearing, those usually never returned

Even when you finally got a full-time job, they would drop by more times than it was worth counting,

After ensuring a place on your own the décor throughout your house was always calendars and different means to get the news that day, figuring that this had to be far more efficient than approaching a complete stranger on their daily life, you even went as far as leaving a small snack on the counter before you leaved to work, sometimes it was left there untouched but others the plate was in the rack and a little note was placed on the counter, you always made sure to date each one and hang them on a board in your kitchen

They still approached you from time to time, though those strangers where clearly new recruits as every single one of them were new faces to you, probably the senior members that you could recognize were the same ones that appeared directly on your home, you could also tell if they are even higher in rank because some even go as far as to leave a snack to replace the one they eat

It lets you feel included in some way, to know how they worked based on the way they less inconvenient the life of a random person, or so you thought

One day once you return home there was still someone inside, you prepared to fight the intruder as you know your unexpected friendly visitors don’t stay that long in your residence, however you could hardly belief the barely conscious person on your bathtub,

“Hey sorry to ask this, but I just needed to recharge the battery in this before I can return, you don’t mind that I intrude a little more, right?” they weren’t badly injured but it was clear that they were hanging to consciousness by a threat, nasty bruises all over their body and a forming black eye

“Uh… Sure, do you need anything?” you didn’t have any training for situations like these ones, but you hoped that the emergency kit on the cabinet would suffice

“Just… time-“ they blacked out, you almost burst out laughing had they not further injured their heads on the wall

You cleaned their wounds to the best of your ability while also wondering what exactly to do after, without much deliberation you managed to bring them to your bed, as it was the closest, and left them there while you prepared dinner, though it ended up with you sleeping in the guestroom as they didn’t stir much the whole afternoon

By the time the sun rose they had already left, leaving you a note near the glass of water you had brought them before going to sleep

You smiled and thought that would be the end of it but once you approached your kitchen the same stranger was there preparing a heavenly-looking breakfast, no injuries whatsoever on their body

“Hey! Slept well?” they greeted with a smile

“Yeah, actually I’ve been meaning to try out that bed, I can’t have my guest rest on an uncomfortable bed after all,” you shrugged, “How long where you gone?”

“The second I was cleared from the healers and approved to make a more personal travel,” suddenly they stopped the kitchen and turned to look at me directly in the eyes,” I wanted to thank you personally, you’ve probably meet one of my apprentices as this year was the last recorded date on their devise, long story short they used up all the energy on their device and I gave them mine when we were escaping, I recognized the year and made a gamble of staying here instead of risking being stuck in another time, by the way we are really grateful for your cooperation till date”

“Really it is no problem, it gives me something to look out for, plus it is interesting to see the differences between your ranks, I give only certain members know how you can just stop by in my home instead of going to me in my work?”

“hahahha yeah, the newest members can mess up the locations more often than not and I don’t think you would like to clean up after a stuck person in your wall?”

“I didn’t think I would need to clean up after time-travel strangers that get in sticky situations and use my house as a pit stop but here we are” I replied jokingly, “All good but give me a heads up next time so I at least can get previous training in case one of you appear with something more than bruises and a concussion”

“Wait, you weren’t trained before and they still put you as an individual of interest in the guide?” you shrugged “I guess you can count me as a heads up?” a glare sent their way was enough to suddenly remind them that you still haven’t eat and they turned to busy themselves

“I think it is pretty rude to put a random person on their guide without their knowledge first if you ask me” you pointed out making them drop the spoon they had in their hand turning to look at you with shock

“You mean that you aren’t-“

“As far as I know? No I’m not from the future or past, I’m from this present and have always been, I just promised myself that if I ever encountered a time-traveler I wouldn’t make a big deal out of it and well, I guess you can see were that brought me”

You once made a promise to yourself: if you ever met a time traveler, it wouldn't be a big deal. You’d tell them the date, the most important political conflict, a recent technology, and send them on their way. You now encounter a time traveler nearly every week.

[queen-mabs-revenge]

i've got a month to prepare for my lead off on the labor theory of value and tbh i'm really feeling doing something stupid and interactive? like a lil mini board game or a power point presentation or smth bc ngl i'm listening to lectures to prep and my brain just turns to tv static every time i listen to a stream of economic terms droned out

[rum-and-shattered-dreams]

A rant of personal experiences and trying to do something positive with them:

Okay so procrastination is a huge thing in ADHD. Same with memory issues. (Not that these are always present and maybe some people experience both without being ADHD).

So. Here’s an experience I’m just now (at almost 40) realizing was a thing:

Imagine a huge essay/report/project requiring a lot of research and several sources was due in a few weeks. The advice was always to break it down, take notes, and make an outline. It made perfect sense. And maybe it does help some or even most people.

But for some, like me, it was still impossibly overwhelming and breaking it down was worse. The project was often boring (especially if I had to ignore a hyperfixation to work on it) and even if it wasn’t, it still felt like A LOT when my brain was full of TV static and my memory was shit.

It takes a ton of repetition for me to even temporarily remember something and even then, it will likely be gone again in a few days. UNLESS I learn by actually doing something or figuring it out for myself. And my brain gaslights itself like “do I remember that right? No that can’t be right. Let me look it up for the 100th time to make sure.” And I’m WAY more likely to remember concepts or physical processes but completely forget the terms for them or names of things or important dates EVEN FOR MY HYPERFIXATIONS, damnit... Like, I can do a bunch of crafty stuff and even remember some common terms and items but not the less common fabrics or stitch types or tool names. (Yet somehow I could remember the exact location of hundreds of thousands of items of inventory at my craft store job... even if I didn’t know what they were called. But I stocked them and had physical contact with them so I could picture where they were.) The number one overwhelming thing for me about trying to be a pro at anything is trying to remember terms so it sounds like I know what I’m talking about.

Anyway...

Without acknowledging that, I ended up wasting time by trying to schedule research/work in small chunks because every time I stopped then tried to start again, I wouldn’t remember what I did or looked at last time. (Can I also add that this is why being interrupted is infuriating for me? It probably seems irrational to other people but it’s so hard to get focused on something and now my train of thought is derailed, passengers are dead and injured, and it’s going to take who knows how long to revive the survivors?) And maybe that wasn’t so bad the first time because I’d only have to reread one page of notes. But then it would happen a few more times and my focus would be blurred and I’d repeated myself multiple times in the notes and they’d become a mess and look horrible which was distracting and I’d feel overwhelmed by having to reread and now rewrite several pages and focus would be even worse because I did remember some bits and blanked out while looking at those then stay blanked out then I’d have to reread again to catch the parts I didn’t remember.

But.

If I waited until the last minute, when the consequence/reward system overrode how overwhelming or boring the project was, I could burn through it because I was in constant contact with the material and it was all currently on my mind and I could skip writing notes and an outline and go straight to a fairly decent flow-state draft then keep going through revisions and editing all without forgetting WTF I’d researched. And it would be done in so so so much less time with a lot less effort and frustration.

And...

AND

And then there’s the schedule thing and why it DOES NOT WORK for me. If I schedule doing something (or even if someone suddenly wants me to do something right now) and my brain is like, “nah sorry, just static right now,” there’s absolutely nothing I can do to make it work and I’m just going to get frustrated and tired and depressed and discouraged. But if I keep a loose list of things that need to get done and indicate which are priorities, I can look at it and say “yeah. This one seems doable right now.” No I’m not going to get up and vacuum that spot of cat litter at this exact moment but it’s a good idea to do it soon so I’ll add vacuum to the list and probably get it done later the same day. If the cat throws up, that is an immediate priority so I will get up and make sure they’re okay and clean it because my brain does actually recognize things like that as super important. If a bill arrives in the mail, I’ll stop and pay it right away because I know I don’t have to think/worry about it again if I do. But what sucks about that is that society wants and often understandably needs people to work on a schedule. And I just... can’t.

But I’m trying to take this knowledge and apply it, trying to accept that this is how I function. I function based on a system of priorities that get done in order of “absolutely must be done right this second, whether for my own reasons or outside reasons, even if I need to drop other things” to “this is what I CAN do right now.” Not something pre-scheduled. If I need to leave something to the last minute then I’m just going to accept that that’s how it’s going to be and that’s okay. Then I can free up energy and space to do other things in the meantime rather than worry and be anxious and beat myself up because I should be doing the thing and end up hating things I like doing because they’re not what I should be doing and now there’s a negative association with them. No. Screw that. If all I can do today is play a video game then fine. Gonna enjoy it. Because I now know for a fact, from years of experience, that I will do the important things. They just need to wait until I’m capable of doing them. And... if I let myself stop worrying about old WIPs... They get done eventually too. It might take a few years but as long as I don’t actually decide not to do them, they will get done.

All that said... I still want to look into meds because it would be nice to have more of an ability to focus more regularly. I just need to clear up some other medical stuff first and I’ve got appointments already set up for that.

One more thing... I f$&#ing hate the attitude teachers have about doodling in class. It was literally the only way I could focus during lectures and remember anything they were talking about. I could look at what I drew and remember what was being said while I drew it. F$&% every teacher who took away my notebooks or yelled at me for it. Without it, I’d zone out completely. And THANK YOU to the art history teacher and biology teachers I had who not only understood but encouraged it and actually helped me direct it toward the subject matter by suggesting drawing thumbnails of the art or cell structure or anatomy.

[deceitfullyanxioussss]

Must Have Been the Wind

Hey guys! I kinda already posted this on my ao3 a few months ago and just realized I forgot to post it here as well so like, here you go I guess lmao

Summary: Remus goes back to his apartment and wants a nap after a bad day at work. Instead, he finds he is kept up by some very troubling sounds coming from the room above his.Remus decides he wants to help this stranger.

Song fic! Must Have Been the Wind - Alec Benjamin

CW: Cursing, and uh, Remus being Remus ig? Oh, and minor homophobic character (Lemme know if I need to add more)

Proof-read by @queroze, thank you again, even though this was a while ago lol

Remus let out a huff of breath, feeling his tense muscles relax as he practically melded into the couch. The plan was for him to catch a nice nap after his exhausting day at work.

   He was a barista at a coffee shop, which usually wasn’t too bad. He liked his job. Often, he even found it relaxing.

   However, there can be days that are just the exact opposite of relaxing.

   It seemed as though every customer he came across that day woke up on the wrong side of the bed. Oh, and don’t even get him started on the Karens. The Karens were nearly impossible to deal with.

   A frown slipped on his face, recounting the worst part of his day. There was a very verbal homophobe who came in today.

   Remus was very openly gay and always wore a pride pin on his apron next to his name. He had the unfortunate luck of having to take, and make his order. He probably had to stand there for a full 5 minutes, just listening to his lecture about how wrong gay sex is. Remus was able to shut him up by reminding him of the line behind him.

   It didn’t end there though.

   A lesbian couple walked in not long later, hand in hand. It didn’t take long for it to catch the attention of this man, who immediately jumped at the chance to pull another 500 slide PowerPoint out of his ass.

   The rest of his co-workers decided that he had to be ushered out of the shop. Nothing about getting him to leave was easy though, not in the slightest. He went out yelling and cursing the whole way.

    The two girls were very lovely though, they had a nice conversation about the upcoming pride event, and he was more than happy to give them both free refills on him.

    So he guessed the day wasn’t all bad, but it still seemed to drag him out as if he was dough under a roller, crunching off of his bones into powder and flattening all his veins against his skin.

     Yes, a nap seems like a good idea.

     Remus’s eyes fluttered closed, fatigue quickly overtaking his body.

   Just then, a sharp, yet muffled noise cut through the serenity of silence.

   Some barely-conscious part of his mind gained interest in this sound.

   What was that? It kind of sounded like glass.  It had murmured through its TV static atmosphere.

   The rest of his mind, nearly completely asleep, wordlessly communicated that it was probably nothing, and he should just focus on sleeping.

   That seemed to calm his brain enough to settle down.

There was a little sliver of his mind that wasn’t quite ready to let go of the sound yet, though. It kept listening, even if undetected by the rest of the brain. It seemed right to do so, as muffled sounds of yelling and sobbing registered through its cloudy state.

   It was then Remus blearily pried his eyelids open and sat up.

   The fuck?  Remus groaned internally, forcing his body into an acceptable sitting position. Confusion stuck onto his brain like wrinkled cling wrap as he tried to make any sense of the hazy world around him.

   A loud thud was heard from the floor above, followed by an emotionally drained cry.

   Remus grunted and rubbed his eyes in exhaustion.

   For maybe just a split second, his heart felt sympathy for the person, but he was just so tired. It’s not like it was his problem, right? He could just ignore it and go back to sleep.

   He flipped over on his side so his head faced the back of his sickly green couch and closed his eyes, trying his best to draw his attention away from the sounds upstairs.

   He must have laid there for a good while, trying and failing to push the sounds to the back of his head, his anxiety amping up little by little the longer the crying persisted.

   Eventually, Remus let out a loud, guttural sigh and stood up swiftly. He couldn’t just ignore them, he had to help.

   Making the decision, he walked towards his coat-rack and hastily tossed his jacket over his shoulders, bee-lining to the elevator.

   He silently curses the elevator for being so slow as he restlessly waited for the doors to push open, and when they do he wasted no time getting in and selecting floor 2.

   Remus usually enjoyed the tacky elevator music, but he found it only served to tick him off this time around. The music seemed to drag time out even slower and he was already so, so restless.

   Ding.

   With that, he stepped out and eagerly trodded down the hallways, stopping in front of the desired location. He raised a hand and knocked on the door with little hesitation, the anxious tapping of his foot echoed within the empty halls.

   Remus listened with rapt attention through the door, hearing as the person inside scrambled to make themself look even the slightest bit presentable.

   He waited impatiently, his gaze anxiously wandering around for some sort of distraction or stimulation. They landed on the grossly patterned navy blue carpet, look completed by the numerous stains that have accumulated over the years. Finding little interest there, he moved onto the walls. The dim, sparse lighting made the colour look like a shit brown. Impulsively, he reached to run his fingers along the many indents that found a home among the distasteful brown. The tactile stimulation instantly captured his focus, and he let the rough surface soothe him.

   Remus, too caught up in the stimulation, had forgotten his original purpose of being there. He startled back to reality upon hearing the soft click from the door. He immediately snapped his head back up, being met with a pair of mismatched eyes and a scarred face. This person was looking up at him with what he thought was supposed to be a confident expression. The effect was dampened by his pink-ish eyes, mussed hair, and the pastel yellow sweater he had hooked all the way up to his chin.

   Remus gave the other a small wave, just then realizing he had no game plan. Did he just… ask? Did he make small talk first? Should he invite him to his coffee shop for a drink and talk there?

   The other reciprocated the wave, smirking. “How may I help you, sir?” He asked politely

   Remus cleared his throat, deciding he should just be direct with this conversation. He was never really good at softening his approach anyway.

   “Hey, so, basically I heard something shatter and a lot of crying and yelling and I was kinda concerned about it, so I came to ask if you were ok.”

   The two men stared at each other for a few seconds before Remus spoke up again. “So, are you ok?”

   He heard the other snicker quietly, a gloved hand waving as if to dismiss the question. “Oh, my. That’s ridiculous. Your ears must be playing tricks on you, my dear.”

   Remus took notice of how he subtly buried his face deeper into the sweater.

   His attention was brought back up as the scarred man spoke again.

   “Thank you for caring, sir, it’s very kind of you, but I have some urgent work to get back to. I wish I could tell you about the noise, but I'm afraid I didn’t hear a thing.” He shook his head. “Perhaps it was merely a harsh gust of wind.” He suggested.

   Remus let out a quiet sigh, but nodded and accepted the answer.

   The two waved each other farewell as Remus trudged back to the elevator.

Remus had been laying down, back pressed hard against the cold concrete of the floor. The chill from beneath seeped in through his spine and into his chest, weighing him down heavily. He just couldn’t stop thinking about his upstairs neighbor.

   It had been hours since his last visit already, and the man upstairs was still pacing across his apartment, occasionally he would stop and silence would follow. The pacing always started back up though.

   Absent-mindedly, his hands fiddled with the necklace around his neck, running his fingers across the cool, smooth metal.

   He just couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, and he wanted to help.

   Remus knew that he didn’t have all the facts, and he didn’t really want to intrude on the man’s life. There was a possibility that nothing was wrong, and he was  just imagining things. He didn’t want to pester his neighbor with his stupid, false worries.

   But what if something is wrong?   You saw his puffy eyes. You know you heard those sounds.  His mind kept telling him.  You can’t just leave him alone, can you?

   Remus nodded to himself and for the second time that day, stood and made his way back to the other’s door. More hesitantly this time, he knocked. His raps were slow and unsure as he swayed nervously from side-to-side.

   He heard the pacing stop, and he waited, his focus on nothing but his shoes this time around. Then he heard footsteps approach the door and he looked up just as the door swung open.

   He was met with the same mismatched eyes, messy hair, and sweater. He didn't forget to take note of the new eye bags and odor he’s sporting with him though.

   “Oh, it’s you again.” the nervousness of his neighbor's voice managed to carry through despite the fabric covering his mouth.

   Remus ran a hand through his hair and looked to the side. “Yeah.” he chuckled unsurely.

   “I just- I’m still worried,” he said, smile falling. “I know you said you were fine, but… I just felt the need to check again. It’s- those sounds- they’re not leaving me alone.” he tentatively looked up into the other’s eyes. “Are- Are you sure you’re ok?”

   Remus is pretty sure he saw the scarred side of his face twitch, probably in annoyance he’s sure. He knew it was a bad idea to come back up. He was always such a bother, even to his own family. What made him think a stranger would appreciate seeing his face twice in one day?

   “Yes.” the answer cut through Remus’s thoughts and redirected his attention. “I am absolutely positive that everything’s fine.” There was a hint of irritation that Remus desperately wished he didn’t hear.

   “Once again, thank you for caring, it’s very kind. Truly. But I really do have some urgent work to get back to. I wish I could help you with the noise, but I didn’t hear a thing. In fact, I’m almost certain it was just the wind. You need to stop worrying so much over such a trivial thing.”

   Remus’s body became hot with shame as he shrunk in on himself. He nodded at the man before he sluggishly made his way back.

The following morning, he didn’t even bother with breakfast. Immediately going over to slouch on his couch, he stared back up at the ceiling. It seemed to be a new favourite hobby of his apparently.

   He had a lot of time to think about the previous night, about his last interaction with the man upstairs.

    There was no way those sounds were from his imagination. He was in a groggy state when he heard the yelling, sure, but surely the pacing wasn't something his ears made up. Surely, the messy hair and puffy eyes weren't something his eyes made up.

   His mind carefully brought up the idea of confronting him again, but he quickly winced and scrapped the idea. The irritated voice of the other causing his gut to lurch in a nauseating way.

   He was most certainly not going to be looking him in the eyes for a good while now.

   He was starting to break through the surface though, right? Maybe he should just call it quits and admit that he can't help.

   He couldn't just go back up again, he didn't think he could take the ice-cold, biting irritation again.

   Remus sat, rolling the interactions over in his head. Whoever said anything about a letter?  A lightbulb sparked, setting an explosion through his body that jolted him up from his seat with a gasp.

   "A letter! That's so simple! I don't have to face him again, and he doesn't have to feel as much pressure! I'm a fucking genius!" He yelled, pumping his fists into the air with triumphant gusto.

He rushed over to his desk, brimming with excitement as he began to write.

   In Remus's very distinct, messily scrawled printing, he began:

   Sup Mr Scarface! (I haven't even thought to ask your name yet lmao)

   Listen up nerd! I  promise  I'm not playing tricks on you when I say this

   You’re  always  welcome to come in

   You could stay here for an hour or two if you ever need a friend. We can talk about the noise when you’re ready

   But… til then I’ll say it must have been the wind.

   Yours sincerely, annoying dude from yesterday ;)

   Remus let out a long, pleased sigh as he gave it a quick once-over. He saw many mistakes, but he gave them not even a second glance before he was already out of the door.

   He was going to deliver this letter and it was going to be wonderful!

Remus shucked his jacket off and onto his coat-rack upon returning from work the following day. It had been a pretty good day today. No awful homophobes, that's for sure.

   Turning his T.V. on for background noise, he moved over to his miniature kitchen. Distantly aware of a news reporter talking about some murder, he got started on his rice and gravy.

   Perhaps 10 minutes passed by when he heard a gentle rapping on the front door.

   Remus curiously strode over and opened his door, surprised to see the man from upstairs in front of him.

   "Oh, wow. Hey there, dude! Didn't expect to actually see ya this soon!" Remus exclaims.

   "I, uh, yeah…" the scarred man shifted in place for a few moments, burying his face into his sweater. "If the, uh, offer is still open, I’d love to have someone to talk to,” he mumbled through the thick fabric.

   Remus stood and processed the words for a few seconds before grinning widely.

   "Of course! Of course! Come on in, my man! Lunch will be done in a bit if you want some!”

   The other smiled and shyly slunk into his apartment

   "I’d love that.” He said. “Thank you.”

   "Not a problem at all! My name's Remus by the way!" He excitedly extended a hand for the other to shake.

   Said man looked at his hand for a moment or two before carefully clasping his own around it.

   Even more carefully, his shy voice spilled a simple name. "...Janus."

[just-another-author-i-guess]

The unholy

Warnings: she/her pronounced reader, mentions of blood and biting, some making out, but honestly there’s not much, I didn’t edit it through tho but what did you really expect

Pairing: bts ot7 x reader, nun! reader, princess! reader, vampire! Jin x reader, hybrid! Namjoon x reader, hybrid! Yoongi x reader, vampire! Hoseok x reader, vampire! Jimin x reader, hybrid! Taehyung x reader, hybrid! Jungkook x reader

Parts: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 -

Author’s note: so it’s currently really late and I’m just now finishing this, which I should have done yesterday but oh well. Anyways, since it’s so late and I’m so damn tired there’s probably a lot of mistakes and stuff and I’m really sorry, but it’s too late to edit it through and I’m sooo tired, and I have school tomorrow T.T damn this chapter just sucks. Anyways I hope you’ll still enjoy it, I would love to know if you did enjoy it!

(Updates; every Sunday!)

Summary:

The king and queen, your mother and father, rules the southern kingdom. The eastern and the western are ruled by kings and queens alike, but the northern are ruled by the most unholy of creatures. Or so you've been told.

Every citizen in the three kingdoms, have been warned about the creatures of the north, and it is with good reason they're all terrified. All your life, your parents have tried to keep the knowledge of the northern creatures from you, but that just made you more curious. Everyday, you would sneak down to the castle library, and read everything you could about the north, wanting to know the secret behind the unholy land.

That of course didn't go well with your parents, and when they found out they decided to send you to the most holy of places, to forget about everything you've read. One of the biggest church organizations in the south agreed to take you in, to rehabilitate you and learn you that you should never question such things as the northern creatures.

By day, you follow the strict prioress around as she lectures you about the holy and the unholy, and by night, you have to go on patrol alone through the church as a punishment for reading about the unholy. But one night, everything changes, when you find the prioress dead, with bite marks all over her body. Of course, you have read about this, and you know exactly what killed her.

But what happens when that exact creature you've read about, shows up right in front of you?

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@joonsroses @boononx @i-am-supermerwholoked221b @karissassirak @bvblackarmy @queenbianca-7 @someslightobsessions

It wasn’t the first time, you woke up in strange new surroundings, and it surely wouldn’t be the last, but this time it was neither the bathroom nor Seokjin’s bedroom, and you weren’t alone.

Slowly, you blinked your eyes open, definitely not missing the way your head instantly began to pound, as your eyes searched the foreign room.

Your eyes widened, and with a slight gasp and a startled expression, you met the scarlet eyes, of a girl dressed in a similar dress as yours, sitting on your bed and smiling down at you, pearly white fangs on display.

“Oh thank god!”

She exclaimed, and looked like she could jump on you and hug you at any moment, but she didn’t, she just kept smiling, and you were sure that her mouth would be aching by the time she stopped.

“Seokjin would just about have murdered Jeongguk, if you didnt wake up,”

She continued, never even giving the fact that you had no idea who she was a thought, as she continued to ramble on about Seokjin’s distress.

Carefully and with stiff limbs, you started to move up from under the covers, slowly sitting up and feeling you sore body as the girl looked at you with careful eyes.

Her smile was hypnotizing, your eyes seemed to be permanently glued to her pearly white fangs, as her mouth remained in the same wide smile.

Suddenly, a thought seemed to cross her mind, and her smile faded, but the gleam in her eyes remained the same, as she lowered the voice, and leaned closer into you, the smell of metal following her every breath.

“Is it true that Seokjin fed from you?”

The words were carefully punctuated, and just as quick as she leaned in did she pull away, leaving you with a rather confused expression.

“S-sorry?”

Your voice was hoarse, and your throat felt raw as you spoke, as if you hadn’t had water in days.

“You know, there’s a rumor going around, and it’s a great honor to have Seokjin drink from you, and even having fed from him,”

She continued, and your mind began to spin as you tried your best to remember, you tried so hard, but your memory was like a static tv. You furrowed your eyes brows, as the pounding behind your skull got worse, quick flashes of Jeongguk’s fangs flashed before your mind and you started to wonder if your whole interaction with Jeongguk actually happened.

“I-I can’t remember,”

You stuttered, as the intense pounding kept building up, making it hard to focus on the girls shiny fangs, as you shut your eyes hard and pressed your palms against your forehead, helplessly.

“But that’s what everyone is saying, that you’re Seokjin’s feeder, and he said himself that he gave you blood to keep you alive-“

“Aera, enough.”

Suddenly, the door was opened, almost violently, and Seokjin’s voice cut through the air like sharp knife, trying to cut into the girl, Aera as well.

Shocked almost, her eyes widened, and she stood up, head held low as she turned around to face Seokjin.

“I-I’m sorry your highness-“

She started, but only received a half threatening growl from Seokjin in response.

“Continue your chores for now, but don’t ever come in here unless you’re told to, understood?”

Seokjins voice was dripping with authority, the same voice he used to scold Taehyung, Hoseok and Jeongguk prior, and if it hadn’t been for the blinding headache a shiver would have run down your spine.

Aera merely whimpered in response, before scurrying out of the room, her quick footsteps could be heard down the hall long after she was gone.

“Drink some water,”

Suddenly, Seokjin was sitting were Aera had been sitting seconds ago, holding out a glass filled with icy water towards you, and with shaky hands you accepted, quickly gulping down the water like your life depended on it.

Slowly, the headache seemed to calm itself, and your brain was now only numbly bumping against your skull, easier to ignore.

Carefully you handed Seokjin the glass, arm tiredly lifting itself off the bed and reaching out to Seokjin.

“What happened?”

You demanded, as soon as the glass was set back on the table, searching Seokjin’s brilliant eyes for answers, but receiving nothing.

“What did Aera ask you?”

He shot back, and you shook your head, more careful than you normally would, as your eyes continued to search Seokjin’s.

“You didn’t answer my question, what happened with Jeongguk?”

You continued, not intending to give up. After coming here, you had gotten absolutely no answers from no one, and you were getting fed up.

Seokjin’s eyes seemed to harden, when you mentioned Jeongguk’s name and quick memories of the interaction with Jeongguk began to flash before you.

You remember how incredibly nice it felt, when you felt asleep against his chest, and how he didn’t feel cold and unwelcoming, unlike Seokjin and, what was the other boy called, Yoongi.

Both their eyes were cold and deep red, but Jeongguk’s was so much more human like, they were big, and brown and welcoming. They were everything Seokjin wasn’t, and you had to fight the shiver that went through you, when Seokjin leaned closer and you could feel the coolness emitting off of him.

Seokjin sighed, he sounded just as tired as he always did when you pried, and he looked the part too. He looked like he hadn’t fed in days; he looked like Jeongguk had before he fed on you.

Suddenly, the same strange sensation went through you. You wanted, no you needed to let Seokjin feed on you, you needed to feel his fangs sink into your skin and you needed to see how his cheeks would round and turn a more pinkish color than the pale white they were now.

“S-Seokjin, are you hungry?”

The question itself was an intruder in your mouth, but it escaped before you could even react, making Seokjin look at you with a shocked, almost worried expression.

“If you’re hungry, you should feed,”

You continued, the words escaping your lips without your consent, as you absentmindedly began to lift you tired arm, presenting your wrist to him, already with two, almost faded bike marks on it from Taehyung.

“(y/n), stop,”

Seokjin started, his eyes betraying him, as they followed the multiple bitemarks visible on you, and the tip of his pink tongue, coming out to wet his lips, fangs gently starting to protrude his botttom lip.

“You look hungry,”

You hummed, the idea of Seokjin sinking his fangs into your wrist, making you blood almost boil over with excitement and your body began feeling warm and fuzzy just at the thought, a weird contrast to Seokjin’s ice cold one.

“You lost a lot of blood already bunny,”

Despite his words, slender fingers began to gently curl around your wrist, making goosebumps appear as his cold digits met your skin.

Your eyes seemed lost in each other’s, as Seokjin gently brought your wrist to his mouth, furrowing his brows as the smell of blood started to take a hold of him, but still fighting against it with the little self control he had left.

Slowly, his tongue game out to taste your salty skin, and instantly a shudder ran through him, just at the thought of tasting your blood once more.

Truth be told, you were right; Seokjin was hungry. He hadn’t fed since the night in the church, afraid to take too much, and drain you too soon, but his brothers sure didn’t care for his worry. He had endured watching both Hoseok, Taehyung and Jeongguk drink from you, without ever having a taste himself, and he was getting fed up.

He brought you here to be his feeder, not theirs, his.

The thought made Seokjin growl against your skin, almost animalistic, as his fangs began to slightly poke at your wrist, without cutting into the skin.

His brothers weren’t supposed to drink from you, they should be drinking animal blood he gave them, the only exceptions being himself, Jeongguk and Yoongi.

The thought made him slightly retreat his fangs, it wouldn’t be safe for any of you if he drank from you now, you needed to have your bloodlevels up, and he should be in his right mindset, not just doing it out of raw jealousy.

“Bunny I can’t, it’s not safe,”

He let your wrist go, mourning the loss of the delicious smell emitting from you, as he watched your arm limply fall down on the sheets.

“But Jeongguk could-“

You started, feeling the unbearable loss when Seokjin let go, still desperate to see his cheeks full and well fed.

“Jeongguk doesn’t care about safety,”

Seokjin cut you off, voice sharp as his still protruding fangs, and you instantly quiet down, as he let out a long sigh.

“Besides, you don’t have to feed me, bunny, I’ll come to you when I need it,”

He spoke again, voice turning softer, as he looked at you with soft, caring eyes, fangs slowly disappearing.

“Jeongguk’s And Taehyung’s venom must still be messing with you, it’s never a good idea to combine it,”

Seokjin sighed, looking at you with worry in his eyes, as you let the past few days slowly weigh down on you. Some parts of your memory were still fuzzy, but slowly you were starting to vividly remember the way Hoseok and Taehyung had fed on you in the kitchen, and the way Jeongguk had growled when they had tried to pull him away from you.

You lightly cocked your head to the side, not completely getting what he was hinting at, but remembering him mentioning it when you were inside the lab room with Jeongguk.

“Don’t worry too much about it,”

He spoke again, voice a little more strained this time, and you noticed once again how tired he actually looked, you wanted nothing more than to offer him a space on the bed, cuddling up to him and sleeping until all your troubles went away, but before you could even open your mouth he spoke again.

“Namjoon will come in a bit, the two of you will go to the library so he can tell you a bit more about the different venoms,”

Seokjin sounded sounded so hollow, just as hollow as he looked, when he got up from the bed, making the wood under his feet slightly creek, and before you could even blink, he was long gone down the hall, and you were left all to yourself, to wonder who exactly Namjoon was.

Later that day, a tall boy, definitely taller than Seokjin and the rest, with a friendly smile and dimples, contrasting his pitch black hair and pale skin, knocked on your door.

“I’m Namjoon, Seokjin sent me to get you,”

He shortly explained, giving you another friendly smile, again making a big contrast to his icy cold skin.

You nodded once, and for up to follow him out the door, as you took in his attire from behind. He was dressed like Seokjin and the others, the only way you could describe it was prince-like.

He placed a protective hand on the small of your back, like Yoongi had done, but without pushing you, as he began to lead you to the library.

Walking down the many hallways, the castle was not nearly as empty as it had been the other multiple times you had been out in the halls. Now, the two of you would meet a servant almost at every corner, cleaning or doing other chores, and you couldn’t help but wonder if there were anyone down in the kitchens as well.

With the many new surroundings and people to look at, the walk didn’t seem to take long at all, and before you knew it, Namjoon had led you into a big, magnificent library, with books from all over the world.

He seemed pretty proud of the collection himself, as he went into explain about it, utterly mesmerized by the way your eyes would light up in excitement.

He let you to a group of comfortable looking, red chairs in a more secluded area of the library, and he gently patted one, indicating you to sit down.

“Here, Seokjin told me to give you this,”

Namjoon spoke, as he stood with his back to you, picking out books from the shelves. Suddenly he stopped, eyes focusing on a big, heavy book standing a little behind the others, and without the slightest struggle, did he pull it out and present it to you on the table.

‘The vampire anatomy’

Was written on it with big, bold, golden letters, and instantly your hands reached out to gently brush over the old looking book, afraid it might turn to dust in your grasp.

“You’ll need to know about us, if you’re going to stay here,”

Namjoon reasoned, taking a seat in a chair besides your, opening the book with less careful fingers, landing on a chapter about different venoms stored in a vampires fangs.

“Here, Seokjin wanted you to read this,”

You looked from the handwritten, cursive letters, to Namjoon with a curious expression, question after question just at the tip of your tongue.

“Seokjin mentioned something about Jeongguk and Taehyung’s venoms,”

You said absentmindedly, but Namjoon’s ears seemed to perk up, brilliant dark red orbs, searching yours.

“That would be because they’re fusing, when you’ve been bitten by different vampires in a small span of time, their venom’s will fuse and sometimes that can be very dangerous,”

He went onto explain, and you cocked your head.

“What about Hoseok then? Why didn’t he say anything about him?”

The questions came stumbling out of your mouth, but Namjoon didn’t seem to mind, happily lecturing you on what you needed to know.

“That’s because Hoseok’s venom is harmless, if you didn’t know about it’s existence it would be as if it was never even there, Taehyung and Jeongguk on the other hand both has dangerous venoms, and because they bit you in that short timespan they’re clashing, that is probably why you fainted when Jeongguk bit you,”

You hummed along, indicating you were listening, as you focused on Namjoon’s kind eyes, and the way his face lit up in a most endearing way when he was talking.

One thought was still bugging your mind though, you still couldn’t let go what the maid, Aera had said to your earlier.

It’s a great honor to have Seokjin bite you.

“Did Seokjin bite me while I was unconscious?”

The question slipped out of your mouth, surprising both yourself and Namjoon.

“Who told you that?”

His eyes narrowed slightly, and you sank the lump in your throat, slowly backing a little way when you realized you had leaned so much to the side that your head was practically leaning on Namjoon’s shoulder.

“A-a maid,”

You stuttered, and Namjoon just shook his head with a tired expression.

“Yes, yes Seokjin bit you, he didn’t feed off you though, he only bit you to balance out the fusion of Jeongguk and Taehyung’s venoms, and he also had to let you feed on him, but only to balance out your bloodlevels, Jeongguk almost killed you,”

Your eyes brows furrowed more with every new information, and you closed your eyes trying to grasp everything. Namjoon gently smiled at your confused expression, and handed the book back to you.

“Please read yourself,”

Carefully your hands grasped the book, lightly brushing Namjoon’s cold ones, and you placed the book in your lap.

-

Just half an hour into reading, did your mind start to get tired and the words you read were starting to make no sense.

From time to time, you would spare glances at Namjoon as he was deeply immersed in his own book, too immersed to really care about your boredroom, as you took in his sideprofile.

He was beautiful, there was no denying it, with his pitch black hair, slightly dipping down into his eyes, causing him to brush it away every few minutes, and his deep red, mesmerizing eyes as they scanned the book he was reading, along with his otherworldly proportions.

“Can I help you?”

A look, a little too cocky for his own good, adorned his features, and you realized in embarrassment that you had been caught, quickly looking up to meet his kind eyes, a subtle blush covering your face and ears.

“I-I’m sorry,”

You stuttered, as you began to realize just how close you were to him, noses almost brushing, when you turned your head.

Namjoon chuckled, voice noticeably lowering, making all sorts of emotions stir inside you. Long forgotten was the book, and whatever venom you were reading about, Namjoon being the only thing currently on your mind.

“No worries, bunny,”

He tilted his head a little, giving you a way too obvious invitation to his softlooking lips, and you couldn’t bring yourself to deny, slowly leaning forward again, lips carefully coliding.

Instantly, you sighed into the kiss, as his large hand came up to cup your rounded cheek, deepening the kiss, as you continued leaning forward, till you were almost halfway into his chair.

He felt like fire and ice, the kiss was soft and smooth, making your head spin, warm sensations shooting straight to your core as you felt his fangs slightly protruding, carefully poking at your bottom lip.

Testing out the waters, the tip of his pink tongue began to poke your bottom lip as well, carefully sliding into your mouth, dancing around your own tongue.

He tasted like metal and a certain sweetness that belonged to him, but you wouldn’t have it any other way, letting his tongue roam your mouth freely.

You did however need air, and sooner than you wanted to, you parted from him, a string of salvia connecting the both of you, making it clear how messy your kiss had actually been, and Namjoon looked at you with blown out pupils, fangs now fully on display for you and you felt your skin tingle.

He swallowed, hard.

“Can-can I have a taste?”

Without hesitation, you nodded, already offering him your wrist, like you did with Seokjin.

Instantly, his long fingers curlers around you, ice cold digits making contact with overheated skin, again feeling the wonderful feeling of fire and ice colliding.

First, his soft tongue came out to lap at your salty skin, followed by his nose, as he gently nosed around the area he intended to bite. He sucked and playfully nibbled at your skin, before finally biting down, sinking his teeth into the area he had already marked with a couple of hickies.

Your breathy moan escaped out into the empty library, as you felt his fangs sink in, instantly drawing moans and groans from him as well, as he slowly began to gulp down your sweet nectar.

You watched with hazy eyes as he drank, amazed by the way his Adam’s apple would bop up and down every time he sank another mouthful.

He was viciously licking at your bite marks the same time he was sucking, making sure no excess blood would go to waste as he fed.

Before long, he retreated with a satisfied groan, licking greedily around his mouth for any excess blood, two bite marks now permanently dug into your skin.

Your two wounds were still leaking the smallest amount of blood, but it was quickly fixed once Namjoon carefully dipped his thump into each wound, gathering whatever excess was left and greedily licking his fingers dry.

“Thank you, Bunny,”

He said, voice sincere as he gave your hand a squeeze, making your heart flutter when he didn’t let go, but only carefully intertwined your fingers, his big ones almost completely covering yours.

Much to your disappointment, Namjoon had to go sooner or later, leaving you to wonder around on your. You had just made your way out of the library, when a strange sensation filled you up.

It was the same feeling you had, before feeding Jeongguk, it was the same yearning to see his cheeks rounded and the happy satisfied look on his face, but he wasn’t there.

You could have sworn you were alone, except the couple servants walking around the castle cleaning and doing chores.

You felt restless, wondering around with the urge to find Jeongguk, but something told you that it was the last thing Seokjin would want you to.

You were torn, as you stood between the hallway that led to what you assumed must be a dining room, and the staircase you had talked earlier down to the kitchens.

“Bunny..”

A shiver ran down your spine, and you instantly turned around, upon hearing Jeongguk’s hoarse whisper in your ear, but nothing. The hallway couldn’t have been emptier.

“Bunny, I know you can hear me..”

Jeongguks voice continued, almost tauntingly as you stood there, confused in the hallway.

“Go to the dungeons, be a good girl and come down here for me, bunny,”

Your mind seemed to be made up, as you step by step, carefully began to walk down the stairs leading to the cellar and the kitchens.

“Come on Bunny, hurry up, I’m hungry..”

His raspy voice filled your senses, and instantly your only goal was to feed him, you wanted, no you needed to feed him, at the moment it was all your heart desired.

With your eagerness, it wasn’t long before you were stood before a big wooden door, looking like the kind of door you would never go through under any normal circumstances, but Jeongguk’s voice was egging you on.

“Come on Bunny, just open the door..”

He was persuasive, and you were sure you could feel him behind it, you knew he was there, and there was nothing you wanted more than to come to him, so it wasn’t long before your hands were gently placed against the wood of the door, and you pushed.

The door was heavy, but not so heavy you couldn’t open it, slowly you slid it open, revealing a dark room with multiple cages, all badly scratched up and clearly meant for something much stronger than a human.

Then you saw him, you gasped, and instantly forgot about the door as you ran to him, letting the door slam behind you.

“J-Jeongguk,”

The small amount of sunlight shining in through a tiny window, was just enough for you to see his state.

He was standing pressed up against the cage, looking paler than ever with hollowed our features and the most agonized look on his face.

Without even thinking, you instantly pressed yourself up against the cage as well, wanting to feel the small amount of warmth he emitted, and he instantly reached out through the bars, squeezing your hips trying to get your closer, closer, closer.

“Bunny..”

He rasped, looked down at you with dark eyes as he was towering over you.

“You found me,”

A cocky smirk crossed his features despite his state, and you instantly nodded, ready to do whatever he asked.

Gently, you let your fingers come up and hold his hollow cheeks, turning his face down so you could look into his brilliant eyes once more.

“What did they do to you?”

You whispered, worriedly stroking his cheekbones with your thumb, as you stood on your tiptoes, noses brushing as Jeongguk inhaled sharply.

“Nothing you cant fix,”

He reasoned, voice still raspy, boarding on a growl as he without warning leaned down and crashed his lips onto yours, almost violently, instantly igniting all sorts of flames in your lower stomach.

[marksburyscripts]

Season 1, Episode 5-- Heartwrench

Google Doc

[Henry’s hospital room. Day. There are no longer the sounds of life support.]

VICTOR

...You’re sure it’s okay?

HENRY

Yeah, it’s fine. Whatever helps. Record away.

VICTOR

All right. Thanks.

HENRY

...You don’t have to be nervous, you know.

VICTOR

I’m not.

HENRY

Then why are you doing that?

VICTOR

Doing what?

HENRY

You’re clenching and releasing your hand, and you’re rocking a bit in your chair. Both of which you do when you’re nervous. Seriously, how long have I known you? [Beat.] No, you don’t have to stop.

VICTOR

Oh thank God. [Beat.] ...How’re you feeling?

HENRY

Like I’ve been in a coma for the better part of a year. But lucid, so that’s an improvement, I guess.

VICTOR

Right. Right, yeah.

HENRY

...You know we’ve gotta talk about this, right?

VICTOR

Henry, shouldn’t we wait until you’re--

HENRY

No. We’re doing it now. While you’re recording. ...Victor, please tell me that I’m remembering wrong. Please tell me that I’ve just got some real bad brain damage and it’s fucking with me. That I didn’t walk in on some… first attempt at reanimating a fucking corpse.

VICTOR

[Mumbled] Second.

HENRY

Excuse me?

VICTOR

It was a second attempt, I’d done it before.

HENRY

Jesus Christ.

VICTOR

Also it’s not technically reanimation. If it had been a single body, sure, but I used materials from several donors--

HENRY

What the hell is wrong with you? In what fantasy could you ever see that turning out well? That’s the kind of shit that horror movies are made from!

VICTOR

I’m sorry, I--

HENRY

You were stupid! You were stupid, and reckless, and you didn’t think about the consequences!

VICTOR

I know, I just--

HENRY

Oh my God, that’s what the fire was about, wasn’t it? That had something to do with it. You freaked out, and you tried to burn the evidence. So what, you figured you’d risk more lives then, too? What if there had been people in there, Victor, what then?! Is that what attacked me? And did-- Did Justine really kill your brother? Or was that part of it, too? You have people’s lives on your conscience, all because you wanted to fuck around and find out if you could--

VICTOR

I just wanted my mom back, okay?! I know I fucked up. Believe me, I don’t need any more reminders. But I-- I had my reasons, it wasn’t just some ego trip.

HENRY

[Calmer now] ...Does Elliot know?

VICTOR

I’m sure he figured it out, yeah.

HENRY

What’s that supposed to mean?

VICTOR

Oh. Oh God, they didn’t tell you.

HENRY

Tell me what?

VICTOR

...Henry, Elliot’s dead.

HENRY

Oh God. God, I…. I’m so sorry, I…. How’s your dad taking it?

VICTOR

Well, considering he died two days later, I’d say not very well.

HENRY

What?

VICTOR

[Getting more and more distraught] He’s dead too, Henry. Him, Elliot, my mother, Billy, Justine. Everyone is dead, and I have been so alone and so scared, and I have no idea what I am supposed to do.

HENRY

...Hey. C’mere. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m just stressed, I shouldn’t have said all that shit.

VICTOR

You have every right to.

HENRY

No, being a dick won’t fix anything. Plus, you’ve obviously been through hell. Your glasses look like you were just at a 4Chan meetup.

VICTOR

[Laughs] I don’t know what that means.

HENRY

It means you need to get some damn lens cleaner, how the hell can you see out of those thing?

VICTOR

Just used to it, I suppose.

HENRY

You hear from Evelynn at all?

VICTOR

Take a guess.

HENRY

That’ll be a no. You try talking to her?

VICTOR

Of course not.

HENRY

...So you’re upset that you’ve been alone, yet you haven’t even tried to get in contact with your sister?

VICTOR

Look, I don’t need a lecture right now, okay? I get enough of those from Dr Walton.

HENRY

Wait, you’re seeing Dr Walton? Like, Robert Walton? Kinda short, always has a bow tie?

VICTOR

Yeah…? Do you know him, or…?

HENRY

Sort of, he was a guest speaker for my Abnormal Psych class during undergrad. He seems good.

VICTOR

Yeah, I suppose.

HENRY

How much you tell him?

VICTOR

I’m not sure I could tell him what happened even if I wanted to.

HENRY

...What happens when you try?

VICTOR

Don’t. Don’t do that.

HENRY

Do what?

VICTOR

That. You’re trying to… diagnose me.

HENRY

No, you’re my friend and I don’t have a license to practice. That’s illegal. I’m… offering informed advice.

VICTOR

Yeah, well, I’ll save you the trouble. Clinical depression, post traumatic stress disorder, and paranoid personality disorder. Though that last one is debatable. I might be missing some. Come back when you finish your Ph.D, Clerval.

HENRY

[Softly] Jesus…. [Trying to lighten the mood now] Doing it then it would be even more illegal. Then we’ll have two criminals here. [Beat.] Sorry. That wasn’t as funny as I expected it to be.

VICTOR

No. No, it’s fine. You’re not wrong. [Laughs] Should’ve seen what it was like trying to find a job with an arson charge. I’m lucky I managed to get the one I have.

HENRY

Yeah? What job’s that?

VICTOR

I’m over at Harris’ down on Main Street.

HENRY

Holy shit. The great Victor Frankenstein, the mad genius, the Prometheus of the 21st century, is selling discount hardware.

VICTOR

Well, I don’t actually sell anything most of the time. I’m customer service. Mostly returns, taking phone calls, fun stuff like that.

HENRY

You’re fucking with me. You hate talking on the phone.

VICTOR

And I hate my job. But if they’re willing to give a felon minimum wage, who am I to argue?

HENRY

Hey man, whatever works. I do have one more question, though. 

VICTOR

Okay?

HENRY

Is that the hoodie I lent you that day?

VICTOR 

Oh, um, right, yeah. I-- I was going to give it back, but then you-- You know, and then I was just so distracted, between worrying about you and the police hounding me--

HENRY

Hold on, police?

VICTOR

Oh. Right. They, um… They thought that I did it for a while. Elliot, too.

HENRY

Oh God. 

VICTOR

I mean, I can't blame them. I've got a record, and that's a lot of people close to me who--

[The door opens. Both men are silent for a moment.]

HENRY

Hello…?

VICTOR

Sorry. That’s probably me.

HENRY

What?

VICTOR

Things have been… weird. It’s a long story.

HENRY

You built a person out of corpses, and I’m bedridden for who knows how long. I’ve got all the time in the world for the details.

VICTOR

...Ever since I…. Ever since the fire, things have been… happening around me. I know how this is going to sound, but you need to believe me, okay? Ever since I… made it… it’s like…. I don’t know. It doesn’t even really make sense, I-- The two concepts aren’t even remotely similar, I--

HENRY

Hey. Hey, breathe for me, okay? 

VICTOR

Okay. Okay, sorry. ...That was the first night that I experienced something that I was unable to explain. Granted, I wasn’t exactly in the best mental state at the time, so for a while, I figured that it must have been a hallucination. I’ll be honest, sometimes I’m still able to convince myself that it was. But I know it’s not. 

VICTOR (Cont.)

Sorry. Sorry, let me back up. [Sighs] The… first signs of life came at 1:15 AM. The rise and fall of the chest, the flicker of movement behind the eyelids. Whether or not there was cognitive function had yet to be seen, but… I suppose you know how that turned out. It was at 1:16 that everything started to go downhill. When I realized what I’d done, when-- when the possible consequences hit me all at once. The wrongness of the situation, I…. I almost didn’t hear it. Or-- No. No, I didn’t hear it so much as I felt it. I felt a voice throughout my body, in every single nerve, clawing its way into my subconscious. I-- I couldn’t make out what it was saying, but… I got the sickening feeling that it was proud of me. Proud of what I’d managed to achieve. Whether or not anything happened for the couple months that I was in the hospital afterwards, I can’t really say. I was in shock, I couldn’t tell you what was real and what was hallucination. Honestly, you’d probably be better at figuring out if anything odd was happening during that time, you were there. But what I can tell you is that it never stopped. Sometimes the TV would turn on in the middle of the night blasting static, a couple times I woke up in the morning to find my glasses outside on the windowsill. Then there are the more… sinister ones. Beings that aren’t quite human, there one moment, gone the next. Or sinking, terrifying senses of dread that lead up to disaster.

HENRY

So… you’re seeing ghosts?

VICTOR

No, obviously not ghosts, ghosts don’t exist. Jeeze, you sound like Elliot. [He laughs, but it fades]  ...Not ghosts. But… something. Something that found me that night and hasn’t left me alone since. It’s all connected, I know it is. I just need to analyze everything. You know me, I work with data and research. If I can get the evidence, I can work out what’s going on. I even ended up setting cameras up in my house, but… they always freeze up whenever something happens. Typical. Either that or-- Or I don’t even have it happen myself, sometimes it’s other people who--

HENRY

Wait. Other people?

VICTOR

Yes. But it’s not like I want it to happen, it just does. I usually don’t even know them. I just… hear about them on the news, or sometimes they tell me themselves if I happen to run into them.

HENRY

...And strangers just tell you about all the creepy shit that happens to them?

VICTOR

...Sometimes, yeah.

HENRY

...You know what, I’m not going to even pretend to be surprised.

VICTOR

Honestly, that’s how I deal with it. So yeah. There you go. Spooky.

HENRY

...Do people get hurt because of it? [Victor doesn’t answer] Shit…. Well then. That settles it. I guess we’ve got work to do.

VICTOR

What?

HENRY

I said, we’ve got work to do. Maybe you’re content wallowing in self-pity while creepy shit radiates off of you, but I sure as hell won’t sit on my ass as it happens.

VICTOR

Henry--

HENRY

I know what you’re doing. You’re treating it like some punishment. Like you deserve it. Well, I’m here to tell you that you don’t. And neither does anyone else. You fucked up, yeah. And I’m not going to lie, it’s going to take some time for us to get back to the way we were. But it’s like you said. You had your reasons. You didn’t mean for it all to go to hell. And you didn’t kill them. So you and me are going to buck up and--

[He is cut off by a sound of pain as he moves]

VICTOR

Hey, whoa, whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa. We'll figure it out. We have time to plan, take action, whatever we need to do. But right now, what you need to do is rest. I'll wash the hoodie and bring it back first thing tomorrow. 

HENRY

Nah, you keep it. It suits you, I can always get another. Plus, who the hell knows where you've been the past year? 

VICTOR 

[He laughs. This time it feels genuine] Asshole.

NEXT EPISODE➝

[exmcr-moved]

ways to not completely lose your mind during online classes: i’m autistic and have stimulation issues by not being class

- keep track of assignments in a numbered list, use colors to denote priority. i have a separate list for things due tonight, tomorrow, and After Tomorrow. i update it before i go to bed to make things more manageable, as well as keeping track of in progress work to not get myself discouraged. i have like 4 whiteboards in my apartment. - make study playlists that are instrumental to play in the background of doing homework, or while watching lectures. just be sure to turn down the volume if it’s in the bg of a lecture. (calming sleep sounds also work for me, just make it something fun for you.) or, links of my study playlists if you don’t have time to make some: x, x - speeding up a video and frequently pausing/rewatching to digest info is better than forcing yourself to sit through a boring video that you don’t really pay attention to cuz the stream of info is too slow. i keep all of mine on 1.25x or 1.5x. - highlighters. i beg you. you don’t have to take a ton of notes, but add color to them. or stickers. or doodles. something to keep your brain and your fingers occupied and think that the material you’re learning is at least somewhat fun. - if that doesn’t work, keep stim toys close by when you’re working. - i go bonkers without snacks/drinks on me at all times. invest in a safe snack/safe drink. it keeps me in the same place for a while. - fans or white noise on a tv or something in the background in addition to the background music is important for me. makes me feel like there’s better noise cancelling and i don’t get this weird static itch. - make a habit of keeping your phone charging in a separate room while you work. or do not disturb. it’s my best friend. if you can’t keep it in a separate room, hide it in the room you’re currently in.  - keep your work and relaxing spaces as separate as possible. even if you live in a single room. stay out of bed for lectures and work, even if that means sitting on the floor. - similarly, try to get dressed if you’re doing work. even if you’re not seeing anyone. it can be sweats, just something different than what you sleep in. this doesn’t have to be an every day thing, but i do feel better when i switch clothes. - breaks are important. really, really important. you’ll get burned out without them and crash when you really don’t want to. you’re allowed to get up, take a nap, take a shower, clean your space, make yourself food. you’re allowed. it’s okay. you’re not a productivity machine. - go to bed by midnight. just give up. i promise you you’re more important than whatever you’re working on.

the ones closer to the top of the list have helped me more. i’m sure you’ve heard most of these by now but yeah this is also a reminder to me to not go absolutely cwazy and stick to what works for me

[egotheplanet]

To New Beginnings (Colossus x Reader)

Request: Could you pretty please do a colossus fic where reader and wade are super close friends, they go way back.. so wade calls her in for back up during a battle where wade, NTW, and Piotr are kinda getting their asses kicked. And reader is so badass and powerful and colossus has complete heart eyes @ her.

Warnings: Wade Wilson and depictions of violence

Word Count: 3,126

His heavy breathing echoed alongside the equally gasping (and comically dressed) heroes beside him. As cheesy as it sounds, they always knew how to come together and save the day! Even during last minute rescues, their rag-tag team pulled through. No matter the cost. The cost usually being a limb or two at Wades expense.

But this time, the tide seemed to be turning and it was clearly not in their favor.

Negasonic Teenage Warhead— or Ellie as everyone recently began referring— laid belly up a few feet away from him. Her skin was busted open above her brow and leaking blood at an alarming rate. Even the invincible Deadpool himself seemed to be twisted into a shape he couldn’t get out of without the help of his combustible friend. Yukio was still standing alongside the cyborg who was very enamored with the task of rebuilding his futuristic weapon. Domino had the beasts attention while the team quickly recuperated and came up with a new plan.

Colossus had to think. Fast.

His team was losing.

This wasn’t the first time they went up against the Juggernaut. No, they were seasoned fighters when it came to the big guy. This was the SECOND time their adversary had the severe misfortune of being in their sights. After the whole ordeal at the orphanage, the chosen family left hastily to revel in their triumph. But their one mistake came back to haunt them. They never caught and locked Juggernaut up. Upon hearing his havoc resumed soon after their departure, they felt responsible for his latest atrocities. This guilt plagued Colossus the most.

Earlier that morning

“This is what fighting dirty gets you!” His deep voice reverberated through the dining room as he strode in to interrupt everyone’s breakfast.

“Good morning to you too. What’s the matter? Out of tiny self help books?” Wade paused for a beat, slightly flinching as he awaited the clap-back. “Get it? Because you usually spend your morning meditating in your room— okay what’s wrong? You’re usually choking me by now.”

Colossus stomped over to the small television which sat atop the kitchen counter and pressed the power button. Blank static which signals the TVs awakening quickly fades out as the sound of a breaking news report becomes louder.

“The Juggernaut can now be seen stomping across the street and into the car dealership, ripping through anything in his way—“ the volume is cut off as Colossus presses mute and shifts to stand in front of the screen.

His arms cross in front of his chest and the team know they’re in for a lecture.

“The Juggernaut is loose because we did not complete job! It is our fault for fighting dirty and not putting him back in ice box where he belongs.” This inspires everyone to send accusatory looks to the red-suited trouble maker at the head of the table.

“He’s right, Wade. We were quick to fight and just as quick to get out. If we had tired him out with the help of the proper authorities, we could have gotten him back into custody.” Ellie’s calm but judging demeanor was starting to get under the mercs skin.

“And? Everyone got out in one piece!”

“This time.” Russell muttered into his spoonful of Cap’n Crunch.

“Hey!” Wade pointed a finger to the robust teen, “I thought we agreed to never bring that up again.”

“That is enough!” Everyone jolted and turned their attention to the most responsible of the team. “We have mission. Stop Juggernaut and put him back in the hands of the law.” Piotr turned the tv off as he began to head towards the kitchen. “Suit up! We leave in ten minutes.”

Current time

Domino slid beneath and between the behemoths legs in a final attempt to escape. Cain’s massive hand barely grazed her as she ran away. She was starting to feel like her luck was running out.

They’ve been fighting ‘clean’ for hours now and Wade’s patience was wearing thin. If they had just gone with what he suggested, they’d all be home now watching Cheers in their socks-n-crocs.

Luck can only carry the team so far when their exhaustion was growing stronger than their opponent. Unlucky for them, Juggernaut seemed just as energetic and deadly as usual.

Wade raised his recently freed hands in the air and clapped them together. He and Cable nodded at each other, clearly some sort of signal. Cable ran into action so the team could huddle and discuss what their next course of action should be.

Colossus opened his mouth to give orders but Wade beat him to the punch.

“I’m gonna call in reinforcements. This is our last chance to save the whole mission and our precious, precious bodies from being ripped in half.” His masked gaze traveled up from the dirt to Colossus. “Or at least save you from getting a dent you can’t buff out. Okay! Break on three and keep Fuckernaut busy till she shows up! Got it?”

Everyone exchanged nervous looks but their overwhelming exhaustion was offering no choice but to hear him out.

When have any of Wades plans ever worked out without someone dying? Colossus could count the occasions on one hand. Hell, half of one.

“No, we finish this right, Wade! No repeats of last time.” Colossus bargained and glanced up from their huddle to see Cable get knocked to the ground.

NTW piped up with her opinion after silently debating with Yukio. Just a look and Ellie could tell what her better half was thinking.

“Colossus. I think we should let him call this lady up. If she’s as helpful as he says, god knows we could use the help!”

“I agree with 2007 Brittany Spears!” Ellie scoffed at Wades latest nickname. “Okay, I’ll call Y/N while you guys form human shields for me! One.. two.. three! Break!”

Everyone ran into action as Wade nearly tripped up going the opposite way. He stumbled back onto his feet and dialed Y/N’s number.

He started bouncing on his toes after the fourth ring, fearing she wouldn’t answer.

“C’mon, c’mon, c’mon! Pick it up, god fucking damnit!”

“Couldn’t you start the call off with something nicer? Try, hey Y/N it’s been ages! How ya been-“ her voice sounded a little distorted over his phone but it was music to his ears.

“No time to flirt, we need you!”

“I’m guessing you’re talking about the whole Juggernaut situation downtown and not a threesome. God I hope it’s not a threesome.”

“Cute. But it’s the Juggernaut thing! How fast can you get here?”

“Put down the phone and get out of the way, knucklehead!”

It wasn’t until that moment that Wade realized she sounded like she was in a speeding car. He jumped out of her way, narrowly avoiding the grill it as it came honking past.

She beelined past the costumes and shifted her large truck into a different gear. Wades team quickly dispersed after gathering what was about to take place. The team had just enough time to throw Juggernaut off his rhythm, giving Y/N ample time to hit and drag him almost 200 feet. Jumping out her door at the last second, the truck slammed his body into the car dealerships outer wall. Her body rolled expertly and she sprung to her feet in no time to finish him off.

Everyone was shocked at this woman who came out of no where to defeat the Juggernaut!

“We aren’t done yet!” Her uniform was sleek and skin tight. Her voice was equally as intimidating as her driving skills. “His helmet needs to come off and we need someone to mentally attack him!”

“What, like, bully him?” Russell quipped as he got up out of the dirt, wiping his pants free of debris.

“No, lighter fluid-for-brains! She means we need Charles or another telepath to disable him so we can restrain him.” NTW quickly fired back at the young trainee.

“Whatever the fuck we’re doing, better do it fast. He’s getting up!” Cable was quick on his feet; backing up just in time to miss a large piece of, what used to be, Y/N’s truck which smashed into the ground in front of him.

“Charles isn’t anywhere close to us! It’d take forever for him to get here!” Yukio pointed out as her stance grew more rigid at the thought of possibly having to get close enough to the Juggernaut to take his helmet off.

“She’s right, our best bet is to just take him out physically.” NTW nodded at her girlfriend while everyone quickly weighed their options.

“Finally, I can fight him one on one to prove myself!” Wade pretended to stretch. “Hope no one takes this time to go ahead of me and totally steal my thunder.” He bent over to touch his toes.

Y/N kicked his butt with the tip of her shoe as she glared at him.

“Let’s go! If we work together, we can finish this once and for all!” Colossus’ voice thundered and Y/N’s gaze looked over to him.

He looked down at her and nodded as if to say ‘I’m with you.’

She nodded back to acknowledge him, the corner of her lips turned upward in a smirk.

Colossus ran past her to get the party started and her eyes were on his ass the whole way.

“I am so gonna climb him like a tree when we’re done here.” She mumbled before joining chrome bone in the fight.

“I am so wishing to never hear anyone say that again.” Russell cringed out loud.

“Agreed.” The team, including Wade, shuddered before beginning to sprint alongside each other to finish the fight.

One by one, everyone was thrown out of the way by Cain. Domino quietly made her way up to him from behind as Y/N held his front attention in the form of a jump-kick to the face.

He grunted and stumbled back into Dom, who had been holding one end of a long rope which was connected to debris on the ground.

Luckily enough, the jump-kick-into-rope combo worked out for the women stupendously.

Everyone watched in amazement as the monster collapsed onto the ground, his helmet popping in half so he was left with a giant metal choker. As he attempted to get up, Y/N sprung into action with a crowbar someone haphazardly tossed to her. She ran up to Juggernaut, catapulting herself into the air off of his groin and onto his chest where she began beating his face with the tool.

NTW communicated her next move to the team and ran up to Cable, jumping off his shield as a means of spring.

Domino and Y/N ran the other way, knowing what was coming their way. Just barely making it behind a few discarded car parts, NTW unleashed her power on the freshly exposed Juggernaut.

The explosion reverberated for a good few seconds before everyone jumped out of their hiding places to go assist in the end of the fight.

Cable, Deadpool and Domino shot into the smoke filled area where Cain previously laid taking hits.

Even Russell concentrated his devastating blows of force onto his once partner in literal crime.

Ellie had long since cleared out to the sidelines to be with Yukio, the blood on her forehead being gingerly wiped away.

“You did good, El.” Yukio held her girlfriend tight and planted a kiss against her sweat and blood smeared forehead.

Colossus walked over to the newcomer, offering his hand.

“My name is-“

“Colossus. I know who you are. Famous X-Men member and personal friend of a friend.” She cut him off with a smile, her hand meeting his halfway and giving it a firm shake, introducing herself.

“Ah, he is talking of me to others. All terrible I hope.” Piotr was... flirting?

If Y/N knew one thing about Wade, it was that he was a great liar. She should have known better when he told her that Colossus never flirted back or joked around. Wade said he was as uptight as he was shiny. She was pleasantly surprised by Wades lies for once.

“If you two are done gazing into each other’s eyes,” the pair looked over to see the smoke cleared, “Juggernauts out like a light.” Cables rough voice barked out. If they looked just a little bit closer, they would be able to see Nathan’s smirk.

The troops enforcing the Ice Box’ security came trotting in. Guns and power dampening collars at the ready.

“Perfect timing! Taking the credit after the fightings through, how convenient.” Wade jokingly complained as everyone finally got the chance to take a breather.

The team took this time to check one another for severe damage and ensure Juggernauts incarceration. After hours of fighting, it took minutes of the newcomers skill to confine the beast.

Color Colossus impressed. Color him extremely impressed. Both with Wade for knowing and calling on such a person but with Y/N herself for completing the task no one else could.

Later that night

Hearty laughter filled the dining room for the first time in weeks.

“She’s funny, you’re funny!” Wade jokingly swooned over his friend as she wrapped up her joke successfully.

Y/N laughed and shoved him slightly, his out of date Christmas sweater wrinkling against even wrinklier skin.  

“Well you get plenty of time to work on your joke delivery when you’re all alone.” She muttered almost bitterly to herself as she brought her wine glass to her lips.

“You’re lonely?” Piotr inserted himself into the duos conversation. Wades eyes widened and darted from Y/N to Colossus in disbelief.

“Uh, I think he meant to ask if you live alone. In a concerned, brotherly tone.” Wade was quick to get what Piotr’s was really laying down. Of course he had to be a wingman for his tall friend.

“Da, this is what I meant.” He cleared his throat awkwardly, sitting up straighter.

Y/N looked around at the people occupying the table. Russell was too busy chowing down on the spread she helped create to join into the discussion. Yukio and NTW were quietly having their own moment with one another at the opposite end of the long table. Cable listened in amusedly but kept to himself and his beer. Dom folded her hands together and put her elbows on the table, resting her chin atop her hands and offering her full attention.

“I mean, yeah I live alone but let’s not make the celebration into a pity party.” Y/N tried to steer the group back into its previous jesting mood.

“Right! So once there was this huge-“ Wade began but was abruptly interrupted.

“Well there’s plenty of space at the mansion for you! And room to practice your abilities.” Colossus quickly proposed to what was proving to be the newest member of their little family. “You can practice jokes with me instead yourself.”

At this point, all eyes were on the large man and all ears were in on the baffling exchange.

Piotr’s eyes were only on Y/N. Then everyone’s eyes shifted to her to hear her answer.

Wade laughed nervously in an attempt to break up the increasingly awkward atmosphere.

“Okay, that’s enough hazing Colossus. She’s had a long day. We all have.” Wade shoved some mashed potatoes into his mouth.

“Actually, it’d be nice not to pay rent. New York is wildly expensive. And my monthly gym bill? Forget about it!” Y/N was much more inviting of the idea than Piotr could have ever hoped. “And if you’re my neighbor? I might as well move in now.” She winked at Piotr as she sipped her wine.

Everyone’s eyes shifted back to Colossus.

“What the fuck is going on right now.” Wade looked between the two as if he were a child and they were his parents hiding something from him.

“The fuck that’s going on right now is we have new X-Man!” Colossus puffed his chest out in pride as his hand slapped the top of the table out of excitement, everyone’s dishes rattling for a second before settling again.

Y/N’s smile was massive as she looked up at him, her glass held up to toast.

“I’d love to be a part of your team. If you’ll all have me.” She was suddenly shy as she sought approval from everyone. “I’ll only join if everyone is on board with the idea.”

Everyone continued their silent looks, no one wanted to go first. Wade happily accepted his turn for the spotlight.

“We’ve been friends since we were in the special forces together. You know my answers always going to be yes. Unless, you know, it’s to commit a horrible crime. Then it’s gonna have to be ‘only if you film’.” Wades smirk turned to a genuine and caring smile.

Y/N’s heart grew at his support. Her eyes shifted over to Cable.

“I was impressed with your initiative today.” Nathan grunted as he sat down his empty beer can. “It’d probably be a load off if you joined. I’m for it.”

Her excitement grew with the teams acceptance. She also poured the grumpy man a full glass of wine as a form of appreciation.

Cable nudged the young member beside him. Russell’s attention was already on the unfolding scene.

“If you’re a friend of Wade, you’re a friend of mine! Of course you can join our team!” He was beaming at the thought of another mentor. Hopefully this one was more responsible than Wade but not as uptight as Cable and Colossus.

“It’s already a yes from me and you know it.” Dom quickly interjected from her seat. Her smile was bright and her glass raised to her new friend.

Everyone turned to the lovers at the end of the table. They would make or break Y/N’s career as an X-Men.

“It’s nice to have another feminine face around here. ‘Furthers my petition to rename the team something more gender neutral.” Ellie pretended not to care very much. Yukio saw through her facade and so did everyone else at the table.

“Welcome to the team, Y/N!” Yukio cheered while looping her arm with Ellie’s.

Y/N’s eyes watered but no tears fell. Colossus once again made the right choice and this time it was to expand the family.

“Jeeze, every time you’re left alone Wade, you bring someone else to live with us.” NTW joked comfortably.

“I promise to do my best to be an upstanding member of your team. Better yet, I’ll do my best to be an upstanding member of your family.” Y/N vowed to the table.

“You already are.” Piotr stood and smiled warmly down at her, his glass joining everyone else’s in the air. “To new beginnings!”

[unpack-my-heart]

The Ghost of You

A new Reddie AU featuring property developer Richie and ghost Eddie. I know I have other unfinished stories but I’ve been working on this today as a distraction from various things and thought I’d post it. 

Read it on AO3 HERE

or I’ve also posted it under the cut:

Preview:

The first time Richie sees him, he falls out of a window.

It’s about ten at night, and Richie is painting the grilles on his open bedroom window with the night breeze caressing his face. He’s got the radio on, but every so often the music is suddenly replaced by harsh static that screams into the room for five or six seconds, before the music starts up again like nothing had happened. Richie doesn’t pay attention to it, assuming it’s to do with the terrible reception, until the radio howls like a banshee. When he turns around, he’s met with the sight of a man dressed in an old-fashioned looking khaki uniform who is squatting next to the radio on the floor, and staring at it intently.

Richie promptly jumps, before stumbling backwards, and falling out of the window.

@constantreaderfool @xandertheundead

Richie’s first love is stand-up comedy. He spends most of his adolescent years with his eyes glued to the flickering TV screen, watching late night comedies protected by a blanket of darkness, ready to charge straight up the stairs should he hear the familiar pounding of his father’s footsteps coming down the stairs.

Richie always assumed he’d become a stand-up comedian, or something similar. His mother was forever smiling at him with this dopy, indulgent grin.

‘You should be on the stage, child’, she always told him.

He believes her.

Standing on stage, in front of a sea of squawking, laughing faces. The I did that in your stomach, the I made these people happy.

It doesn’t work out, though. Richie gets horrendous stage-fright, and runs straight off the stage clutching his stomach the first time he attends an open-mic at his local late night coffee shop. It doesn’t make sense. His mom says he’s funny, Bev says he’s funny, the waitress at the diner that does those paprika fries he loves says he's funny (but maybe she’s just being kind and trying to get him to leave a decent tip. He always does.)

He isn’t too cut up about it though. Shit happens. So he leaves stand-up comedy to the professionals, and proceeds to have a minor existential crisis about the direction his life is going in.

His father starts getting a bit impatient, not because he’s frustrated that Richie didn’t go to college, or because Richie is leeching off them or anything remotely similar, but because it cuts him up inside to see his nearly-20-year old son so morose and directionless. So he takes him to work with him.

Wentworth Tozier works as an architect in a small firm in Maine. It’s mainly small domestic projects, the occasional corporate one. Nothing too major. Small houses, buildings to put a new Subway in. Richie is entranced. He loves going with his dad to the sites, he can practically see the cogs in his father’s brain spin and whir as he envisages how he’ll turn this small patch of wasteland into someone’s private sanctuary. Richie decides immediately that he wants a part of this.

Richie apprentices with his father. His dad agrees easily, ecstatic that his son is so enamoured with the field that claimed his own heart when he was pre-college and panicking about where his own life would lead. Richie doesn’t want to go to college, so he can’t become an accredited architect, but that doesn’t matter. Richie isn’t interested in modelling power sockets and skirting boards on the computer. Richie dreams of moulding timber, brick and concrete with his own bare hands, sculpting and crafting and carving out a small piece of perfection.

Property development, is what his father tells him it’s called. He’d be a renovator, and Richie decides that that word sits very nicely indeed on the end of his tongue.

He starts off small. An tired-looking apartment with creaking bones and a dusty sigh. Richie tears out the connecting wall between the lounge and the kitchen, allowing the small space to inhale a much-needed breath of fresh air. He extends the bathroom into the needlessly large master (and only) bedroom, and removes the garish pink ceramic bath, replacing it with a walk in shower. A lick of paint here, a sprinkling of tile here, a dash of wallpaper and some new faux-marble countertops. His father claps him on the back when he sees the finished product. ‘you’ve done good, kid’. Richie knew this was what he was made for.

He’s 28 when he starts feeling the first pinches of boredom at the soles of his feet, 30 when his stomach aches slightly when he wakes up in the morning before work, and 34 when he decides that it isn’t enough for him anymore.

His father, now retired and living off a very comfortable pension, offers to lend him some money while he figures out what he wants to do next. Richie grumbles for a few weeks, feeling uncomfortable about taking his dads money. He uhms and ahhs about it, waxing poetic to Bev in the bar after work about how property development wasn’t sparking the pilot light in his soul quite like it used to. Bev nodded sympathetically, and made comforting hums at all the right intervals. Richie left the bar five times drunker and fifty times more appreciative for her friendship.

He’s 36 when he decides to move to Scotland.

He’s been considering it for a while. Find a derelict church, or a run-down old manor house, buy it for an eye-wateringly cheap price, live in it, renovate it, and flip it. A two year project, max. Something to get his teeth into and stave off the anxious dreams that have him shooting up in bed at night, face sticky with sweat and heart beating with ‘this can’t be it, please say this isn’t it’.

His relationship with Jasmine had broken down. She couldn’t understand why Richie was so restless, why he’d toss and turn at night instead of hunkering down into the cosy nest of safe, steady, predictable. He didn’t blame her. He knew it was frustrating. Hell, he was frustrated. They ended it pretty amicably. A few tears on both sides, a half-hearted promise to remain friends. Richie knew they wouldn’t. He didn’t really mind.

He’d been half-cut and half-asleep when he’d stumbled on it. A beautiful 19th century building on the Isle of Skye in Scotland. It had originally been an orphanage, before changing hands and purpose multiple times over the years. School, a brief stint as a police station, before it was abandoned in 1947, just after the war. The building is on the lip of a lake, and sits nestled comfortably into a small hillock. The brickwork is run down, patches of orange lichen growing excitedly across the otherwise grey surface. There are two working chimneys emerging from the slate roof that connected to two working fire-places. There’s a small porch connected to the front door, and a back door in the kitchen that leads out into an unfenced back garden. It’s ugly, and sits tired and unassuming against the harsh bracken moors of Scotland, not a neighbour in sight. Richie is immediately besotted with it.

He phones Bev, not caring that it’s nearly 3am and he’s definitely still drunk and is probably definitely somewhat delusional. She picks up on the fifth ring.

“what the fuck, Rich, it’s arse o’clock in the morning. Are you dying? If you’re not dying you’re gonna wish you were”

“I found it”

“Huh? Found what? If you found your lost sock and decided to ring me to tell me, I swear to god, Trashmouth, I’m gonna gut you, you –“

“No, Jesus Red, no. I found it. I found the one”

“the one? You mean that dude you were grinding on yesterday? I mean, he was kinda weird looking, wasn’t he? Looked a bit like a trout. But if you think he’s the one I guess –“

“Can it, Marsh. One, I wasn’t talking about him but oh my god he totally looks like a trout and two, I mean, the house”

“Shit. The house?”

“Yup”

“The house, the house? You mean – THE house?”

“Yes!”

“Holy shit. Where is it?”

“…”

“Rich…”

“Scotland”

“Holy shit”

“I know”

Getting a visa is about as much of a nightmare as Richie expects. It takes forever, and every day he checks the real estate website, sweaty palms and palpitating heart, expecting the little house on the moor to have disappeared from the internet. It never does.

After about four months, and tearful goodbyes to Beverly at the airport, Richie’s on a plane to Scotland. His parents were initially hugely sceptical, lecturing him on the dangers of buying a property without viewing it, and lamenting about how much they’ll miss him when he’s thousands of miles away. They don’t try to stop him though.

Richie spends most of plane ride jittering in his seat. He ends up sat next to a Scottish woman, who balances her tiny daughter on her knee. Richie smiles at the tiny redheaded girl and she smiles back at him, all gums and no teeth. He falls asleep half an hour before they land.

He hires a car at Edinburgh airport. The drive takes him around six hours, a combination of busy main roads and winding country tracks that split the Scottish landscape like veins. He sails over the Skye bridge, and he’s only an hour or two away from paradise.

When he’s about twenty minutes away, he starts getting panicky. He’d spoken to the letting agent at length over Skype, and they’d emailed him a list of all the things that would need fixing, or replacing. It was a very long list. When Richie had received the list he’d not been able to see it as anything other than a challenge, something to get his teeth into. Something to occupy his restless brain. Now though, the list sat like lead in his pocket.

The house sits at the end of an unkempt muddy track, standing alone amongst the foliage. Richie pulls himself out of the car, stretching his aching arms behind his head.

He stares at the house.

The house looks back at him.

He rings his dad.

“y’ello?”

“Hey, Dad”

“Rich! Did you make it okay, laddy?”

“Och, aye!”

“Your Scottish accent is as awful as mine”

“I know”

“How is she?”

“She’s beautiful”

“Need a lot of TLC?”

“More than I think I’m capable of giving her”

“Hey, now. Where’s that trade-mark Richie confidence? Or, should I say, trade-mark Richie arrogance?”

“You’re supposed to be giving me a pep-talk, old man”

“I know, I know. You’ve got it, kid. You know you do. I’ll come out and visit you in a few months, maybe stay for a few weeks. Scotland is supposed to be real nice in the summer. Save some of the really tricky parts until then, okay? I don’t want you to hurt yourself”

“Your concern is touching”

“Richie, I’m serious”

“I know”

“Your mother misses you already”

“I bet she does, now she’s only got you for company”

“I miss you”

“I know”

“I’m here for you. Even half way across the world. You’re my boy”

“love you, dad”

“Knock ‘em dead, son”

Beep beep beep beep

The house stands in front of him, silently waiting. The wild, windy moors stretch far away.

Richie doesn’t do anything to the house for a few days. He drives nearly two hours to the nearest town, and stocks up on all the tools and equipment he thinks he’ll need, before quickly realising that he’ll need to take a trip to one of the larger cities to buy the more expensive materials. He imagines the postal services out in the middle of nowhere leave much to be desired.

The house is much louder than he expected it to be. The moors are noisy, rustling leaves and bleating sheep and wind that whips through your skin and freezes your bones. The house is nearly as loud. Everything creaks, and moans and sighs, loud protests against whatever Richie happens to be doing, whether walking up the stairs or throwing logs into the burner.

He starts working on it four days after he moves in.

The first time Richie sees him, he falls out of a window.

It’s about ten at night, and Richie is painting the grilles on his open bedroom window with the night breeze caressing his face. He’s got the radio on, but every so often the music is suddenly replaced by harsh static that screams into the room for five or six seconds, before the music starts up again like nothing had happened. Richie doesn’t pay attention to it, assuming it’s to do with the terrible reception, until the radio howls like a banshee. When he turns around, he’s met with the sight of a man dressed in an old-fashioned looking khaki uniform who is squatting next to the radio on the floor, and staring at it intently.

Richie promptly jumps, before stumbling backwards, and falling out of the window.

When Richie comes to, he’s lying on the ground directly below the window he fell out of.

There’s a pillow under his head.

The second time Richie sees him, he pours boiling water all over his foot.

It’s been a few weeks since Richie fell out of the window. He’s forgotten about the man in the khaki uniform that he thought he saw looking at his radio, having convinced himself that it must have been a figment of his overtired imagination.

The house is still, for all intents and purposes, unliveable. There is no hot water, there is no gas, and Richie has to go to the toilet in trenches he digs in the middle of the woodland a few minutes’ walk from the back door. He has never been happier.

He’s knocked a few walls through, the downstairs is now an open plan space, and he’s ordered a new bathroom suite that is supposed to arrive today, along with a plumber that he found online. His name is Mike Hanlon, and he’s lived in the Isle of Skye his whole life.

When Mike arrives, he’s joined with a collie who Mike affectionately calls Mr Chips. Richie scratches the dog behind the ears, and receives a few licks to the inside of his wrist for his trouble.

Mike helps Richie haul the constituent parts of the bathroom suite up the rickety stair case, and Richie is overjoyed to discover that Mike doesn’t complain once. Richie leaves Mike in the bathroom, tinkering with the pipes connected to the old, broken ceramic toilet, and begins to make them both cups of tea using a camping stove connected to a gas cannister he’d bought when he’d been in town.

He’s pouring water from the small camping kettle into Mike’s mug (breakfast tea, no milk, no sugar, thanks, Rich!) when Richie catches sight of the man in the khaki uniform, turning the ring  on the gas cannister with a hesitant finger.

Richie startles, the force of which sends his arm flailing through the air, and sends the contents of the kettle sailing through the air in a graceful arc before landing on his foot.

Richie curses, grabbing the bottle of cold water sat on the worktop, and quickly proceeds to pour the contents over his poor, red raw foot.

When he looks up again, the man has gone.

One of the other bottles of water has upended itself on a cloth, however. Richie doesn’t think anything of it when he grabs the soaking wet cloth and wraps it around his foot.

The third time Richie sees him, he learns his name.

A month later, Mike has finished the bathroom. The plaster on the walls is still white and unpainted, and the floor hasn’t been properly tiled yet, but the bath, sink and toilet has been replaced, and Richie was half way through wiring the extractor fan. Mike had kindly agreed to stay on and help Richie replace the kitchen sink, and install the washing machine and tumble dryer. Richie was elated. He’d grown close with Mike quickly, and he loved listening to Mike’s stories about Scottish folklore. Richie listened to Mike talk for hours about kelpies and the loch ness monster and never found himself drifting off.

Soon enough, they broached the topic of ghosts.

“Do you believe in ghosties then, Mikey?” Richie asks, the man in the khaki uniform a vivid picture in his mind.

“Well, they say that energy cannot be created nor destroyed, right? That’s an important element of the physics of life, so, I can’t accept that when we die we just … disappear, and all that energy just leaks into the air? Where would it go?”

“I dunno, back into the ground?”

“Nah, I don’t reckon so. I reckon it’s gotta go somewhere else. I reckon our consciousness, like, the thing that makes us truly us, escapes our physical bodies when they run out of energy and become something else. Maybe we become light. Maybe we become oxygen, I don’t know.”

“So you don’t believe in ghosts in the sense that you don’t believe we can walk around as physical manifestations of how our physical bodies looked, then?”

“I just dunno, Rich. We probably will never know. Here – hand me that spanner, this bolt is being a feckin’ nightmare”

Richie thought about what Mike had said for a long time.

The third time Richie sees him, he learns his name.

When Mike had left for the evening, Richie waded into the shallow lake, water lapping around the tops of his rubber boots. He threw small pebbles into the water. Plip Plip Plip. The moor was uncharacteristically silent. He stared down into the water.

The reflection of the man dressed in the khaki uniform stared back at him.

Richie turned around.

The man in the khaki uniform was stood next to him, wringing his hands, his brow furrowed.

Richie swallowed.

“Who the hell are you?”

“My name is Eddie”

“Why d’ya keep letting yourself into my house, Eddie?”

Richie fought against his quivering voice to keep his tone stern and challenging.

“I – I don’t. It’s hard to explain. What year is it?”

“Uh… what?"

“What year is it?”

“Are you on drugs or something, dude? Lost on your way back from a costume party?”

“Please, just tell me, what year is it?"

“2019”

“Ah”

“What’d’ya mean, ‘ah’?”

“I mean, I haven’t seen anyone in this house since 1947”

“… Dude you cannot be over 70 fucking years old. Stop bullshitting me, just tell me the truth and I promise I won’t get Mike to impale you on one of those rubber poles he keeps in his van”

“I’m not over 70. I'm 38 – I was 38.”

“Well, how do you know no one’s been in this house since 1947? And what do you mean, you 'were' 38?”

“Because I’ve been here on my own since 1947”

“You’re still not making any sense, my man”

Eddie rubbed his hand over his face, and sighed.

“You won’t believe me, so there isn’t much point”

“Try me”

“I worked here. This place was used as an evacuation safe house for children from across Scotland, but mainly Edinburgh and Glasgow. They were moved here to escape the bombing. I worked here as a doctor, I cared for the children. I – I died here.”

“What do you mean, you died here?”

“I was stabbed”

“hang on – bombing? To escape bombing?”

Richie could barely breathe.

“Yes, bombing.”

“… And you said you haven’t seen anyone here since 1947”

“That is correct”

“So, what you’re telling me is that –"

“Yes”

“You’re …”

“I am”

Richie doesn’t reply. He turns around, and walks back into the house.

When he shuts the door, the lake glitters like a pool of liquid mercury. Eddie has gone.

[mininky]

Renatus (4)

Summary: (y/n) finds herself in a very unusual situation where her fate seems to be woven with Hades himself, who’s too much of a jerk for her to even admit that sure okay he’s kind of really good looking.

Pairing: Hades!Yoongi x reader

Warnings: still none yet, some cussing. I should mention, there will be eventual smut (nope still not there yet.)

Chapters: one two three four five

 Never had a weekend felt so unbearably long before this one. By the time Monday morning finally came you felt like you had to have aged at least a few years, if not a full decade. You had never been the type to act like a babbling incoherent schoolgirl in front of anyone you had liked before, in fact thinking back you had never really been much the type to 'crush' on someone before. After your last relationship (which had been well over a year ago) you had figured you were doomed to spinstership with a hoard of cats to keep you company. Butterflies, sweaty palms, being unable to form coherent sentences when around attractive people had never once been a problem for you. Usually, past relationships had been initiated by the other person and you typically agreed more out of boredom. Hades had changed all of that. Upon your realization that you didn't maybe but you certainly did like the god of the underworld on Friday you suddenly felt like a different person.    The weekend had been a complete mess. You prayed that Yoongi would return to his previous quiet, sarcastic self who spent all of his time with the departed. Instead, he spent the entire weekend in close proximity to you. He was there at every meal, he read in the library while you tried (and failed) to study, he had even taken you shopping after you made a comment about being out of your favorite pens. While he wasn't exactly sunshine and rainbows, his lack of ever-ready argument starters made it even harder for you to form coherent sentences. You tried (and again failed) to be snarky, instead you usually just said a jumbled mess of words and had caught yourself staring at him constantly. The worst part was that there weren't really any conversations, and the few that he had initiated you were a freaking mess. This was mainly caused by the fact that Hades decided that he now wanted to be called Yoongi even in the underworld, you assume that his time speaking with you back on earth could be the cause of this. The one thing you couldn't really understand though was that you had received another promotion from girl to (y/n) and that was presumably the biggest reason why you were malfunctioning every time he spoke to you. By Sunday you were contemplating throwing yourself into the Styx or hoping that a hellmouth would open up underneath your feet and swallow you whole so you wouldn't have to deal with trying to figure out what you needed to do next.    The only good news to all of this was that Monday had indeed come at long last and that Yoongi was so incredibly dense he had assumed that your new behavior was due to a bad cold over the weekend. The best news was that Hoseok had returned and was the one who would be taking you back to school. You nearly cried when you saw him, the sweet relief of finally being able to be away from your own messy thoughts was actually in sight. Unfortunately, Hoseok had noticed in record time your unusual behavior and didn't hesitate to ask you about it.    "Good gods, (y/n) what happened to you? You look awful!" His usual smile was replaced with concern. If you didn't already feel like you looked like a train wreck you certainly did now.    "Less talking, more transporting. Come on Hermes, help me out here I'm begging you." Begging didn't work, at all. Instead, he only grew more concerned and was walking around you in a circle, as if afraid that you might burst into flames (gods how you wished you would.)    "Listen, if you would just please get me out of here I promise I will try to explain everything." If there was anyone you could talk to about this, it would be Hermes. Hoseok was a great listener, a better hypeman, and he wouldn't rat you out for the sheer joy of it the way that Jungkook most certainly would.    At first, Hobi seemed hesitant to do as you asked but you finally found yourself gulping in the frigid air right outside your campus entrance just moments later. "What's going on? Yoongi didn't threaten to throw you into the Styx again did he? You've got to believe me, he threatens everyone with that but he never actually does it, well okay he did do it once I think, but that was a long time ago. After all, he'd be the one who would have to process the soul afterward and that's more work than just emotionally torturing you." Had that actually been your fear his words of intended comfort still wouldn't have worked.    "No that's not it...listen, I've got enough time before my first lecture. Can we just go sit down, grab a coffee maybe?" He looked even more concerned at this point but finally relented.      Once you were eventually back in the same coffee shop (and at the exact same table you were on Friday) with another Matcha latte in front of you, you mustered up the courage to try to explain everything. "I...I think I like Yoongi."    "WHAT???!? OH MY GODS WHY HOW WHEN???" The only flaw in your plan with talking to Hoseok about this was that you had forgotten how loud he could be, at the very least you weren't in Hades but you were panicking that at this volume Yoongi could still hear Hoseok's panic all the way from the underworld. Quickly you tried to shush him and once he stopped hyperventilating he took a large gulp of his coffee. "Did you...did you say...I can't...really??"    "Wow, way to make a girl feel great about her choice in men. Also isn't he your friend?? Shouldn't you be like hyping him up or something?" He shrugged at that as if to say 'what's the point in lying.' "I know it's strange okay, but I mean...he's actually...not that bad and he does the obnoxious thing where he bites his lip when he's concentrating and his hands are really pretty and his smirk is actually kinda cute but he's also super considerate and when he smiles his eyes turn into these really cute little moons and he has this really gummy smile when he laughs andIdunnowhyI'mdoingthistomyselfI'mdoomed." Annnd you're back to being a jumbled mess again. Apparently, he doesn't even need to be in the same room for you to turn into a blathering mess.    "That's...you're...but he??" Hoseok was at the very least also a mess and while he was supposed to be helping you it was comforting to know that you weren't the only one who was unable to function over this revelation. "You've got it bad, huh?"    "Yup. I'm doomed." You sighed as you took another slurp of the latte, hoping that it would somehow magically cure everything. If all else failed you always had the Styx river to throw yourself into.    "Have you told him?" Hoseok seemed to finally start thinking straight, good, at least one of you could.    "How could I? Hi, Mr. Scary God Of The Underworld I'm kind of crazy for you, no please don't devour my soul? I mean, is he even interested in dating? Or Women?"    "Well not telling him isn't going to change anything. Also as for dating and women, the two of you were technically supposed to be married and he did have me send flowers to your doorstep every year."    "Point taken but you don't understand. Even if I could I can't. I can't even form words when I look at him, it's like my brain turns into TV static."    "Listen, you've got to try to tell him. Sure he's...moody...and usually angry...and a workaholic who usually forgets to eat...and sometimes terrifying but buried under all of that there's actually a really nice guy somewhere deep deep deep deep deep-"    "I get it Hoseok, I think you could have stopped after the third deep."    "Sorry, anyway, what I'm trying to say is that there is absolutely nothing to gain from saying nothing but you might gain something if you try. Besides, he let you live down there, agreed to all of your conditions, and he actually makes time to talk to you which is more than he does for his own brothers. That can only mean that he likes you too. We both know that he's never going to admit that so you're going to have to be the first one to try."    Your brain malfunctioned so badly after he said that you don't remember any of the rest of the conversation or how you made it to your first lecture or what anything was about. When you looked at your notes you just saw a blinking cursor taunting you.    While you had spent the entirety of the weekend relishing your freedom from Yoongi that would arrive with Monday you had failed to understand that you couldn't just magically dump your brain of everything. Focusing in class had never been this much of a problem up until now and autopilot was something that while you were apparently equipped with it was very faulty. You had made it to all of your lectures, had managed after the first one to take some notes, but your brain was still constantly going back over the idea that maybe, just maybe you had a chance. You were also grateful that you had never felt this way about anyone you previously dated because this had been a complete and utter nuisance. Never again would you make fun of those people in romantic comedies, you were by large worse than them and you weren't just a character. Gods, feelings suck.    By the end of your last lecture you were trying to psych yourself up for what would probably be the lamest confession of all time but you couldn't bear the thought of having to deal with being this much of an idiot for another day. Halfway to the west exit, your thoughts were interrupted by Kihyun calling out to you. You had completely forgotten about your promise to work on the essay with him. "Kihyun! Oh man, I'm so sorry I totally forgot."      You failed to notice the short-lived downcast look in his eyes before he gave a cheery smile and said, "Mondays suck, huh? Do you still want to work with me on the paper?" In all honesty, you had already completed most of your essay over the weekend while trying to avoid Yoongi but you were pretty sure that it would be as much of a jumbled mess as your head had lately been. "That would be great! Is the library okay with you?"    "Yeah, sure the library sounds great!" And with that, you began walking back through the campus. The usual winter weather had returned in full swing after Friday, the crisp air snapped through your jacket and sweater as the two of you silently trudged your way across the icy paths.    "So, what did you do this weekend?" Kihyun interrupted the silence and you turned your body a little too quickly when you looked over at him to respond. Your boot slipped on just the right section of iced over cement and you felt your knees buckle and your backpack push forward in just a split second. You splayed your hands out in front to try to spare your face from the impact as your eyes squeezed shut, at the same time you felt yourself being pulled back up from your waist.    "If you aren't feeling well you shouldn't push yourself. Hobi told me that you looked like you were in bad shape and you almost bashed your face in just now. Honestly, you need to take better care of yourself, you should have just stayed home." You felt a tingle run up your spine as you felt his warm breath next to your ear. You glanced down at the hands and over to Kihyun who was standing shocked next to you and then finally craned your neck back to see that Yoongi had appeared just in time to help you from your own clumsiness.    Both you and Kihyun stayed silent as you gawked at Yoongi, Kihyun finally seemed to snap out of it before you and spoke up. "I'm sorry you aren't feeling well (Y/N), I didn't even notice. You should go home and get some rest, we can figure out another day to do the essay." Before you could even respond he quickly scampered away.    You glanced back down to see Yoongi's arm still wrapped around your midsection. It felt like you were back at war with your own conflicting thoughts. Half of you wanted to stay in this position, it was warm and comforting. The other half of you was growing more and more embarrassed that Yoongi witnessed your clumsiness and had saved you from almost breaking your face and you wanted to flee the scene. Another part of you wanted to find Hoseok and strangle him for getting Yoongi out of Hades to come to get you. You eventually decided that if you did try to flee or move too quickly you would just wind up breaking a body part.    "(Y/N), are you okay? You aren't saying anything, or moving. Are you even breathing?" Yoongi looked down at you with concern.    "Yeah, yup, yes mhmm I'm totally fine." If that hadn't already sounded unconvincing the fact that your voice was two octaves higher than normal had solidified that you most certainly did not sound fine.    "...Let's go home." His arms left your waist as he turned back around and took a step forward before looking back at you and holding out his hand. "Hold my hand, I don't want to carry you out of here with any broken bones and I don't trust that you'll make it all the way there without me guiding you."    "I would be perfectly fine without your help, that was just a one-time incident. A fluke. And besides, I have cat-like reactions I would have totally been a-okay." Your actions betrayed your words however as you grabbed his hand. You couldn't help but marvel down to look at your hand in his and your heart started to swell with warmth and those obnoxious stomach butterflies were back in action and stronger than ever.    "Mhhmm, sure whatever you say. Glad to hear you can still have that mouth of yours though, you were really starting to scare me there. Humans get sick too easily, you really should take care of yourself. There's no point in pushing yourself too hard and running yourself down. If you don't feel good you need to rest until you feel better. You should stay home tomorrow and rest. And it's too cold for you to not be wearing a scarf and gloves. Honestly, as an adult human you should already know this, should you not?" Just a few days ago hearing him say human that many times in a sentence would have caused you to almost foam at the mouth but now you were too focused on the idea of him being concerned about you to care. Maybe Hobi was right, maybe you really did stand a fighting chance.    You wrestled around with your thoughts as you trudged through in silence. How exactly were you supposed to confess? How did one confess to a god? Do gods even date? You tried to stifle a giggle as you conjured up an image of Yoongi thrusting flowers at you with murderous intent over a dinner table.    "(Y/N)...(Y/N)? Are you ignoring me on purpose or are you just daft?"    "Hmm, what? I'm sorry, I was just thinking..." You glanced up at him and realized that you had already made it to the back of the tree.    "Honestly, you really should get some rest...anyways...are you ready to go?" His voice softened slightly, his earlier exasperated tone gone.    "Ah, yep! Totally good, totally ready! One way stop to the underworld here I come!"    Yoongi raised an eyebrow but decided not to comment as he pulled you closer and closed his eyes. Just a moment later you found yourself back in front of the entrance of Hades. Even though it's been nearly a month of doing this twice a day five times a week it never ceased to amaze you how the Gods could just wish their way somewhere and suddenly be there. You made a note that you had to ask Yoongi how it worked someday.    Before you could even move you heard a loud crack and the sound of someone groaning. Immediately pulled you behind him and seemed to go on the defensive before quickly relaxing again. "Ah, Namjoon, I see that you still are rather abysmal at transporting yourself. What brings you here today?"    You peered around Yoongi and saw a man, no definitely a god if he got all the way here, sprawled out on the floor rubbing the back of his head and smiling up at the two of you. He promptly got up and dusted himself off and seemed to ignore Yoongi completely as he cocked his head to the side and seemed to analyze you, his smile growing wider. "This must be (Y/N). I've heard so much about you from Hobi and Kooki! Speaking of Kookie," He looked back over at Yoongi after you croaked out a small 'hello', "I actually came here to tell you that we're trying to throw a surprise party for Kooki's birthday. I know you always refuse to come by for any of our events but I figure at least once every thousand years isn't so bad, right?"    Yoongi glared at Namjoon as he mulled it over. Finally, he asked, "And when exactly is this party?"    "This weekend, it starts Saturday. It's at Jin's place, he's really pulling out all the stops this year. Oh and, (Y/N) you're also invited!"    Your eyes widened as you looked back and forth between Yoongi and Namjoon. "Why? I mean, I'm not a god..."    Namjoon waived his hand while laughing, "Oh who cares. Any friend of Jungkook should come, that means you (Y/N) and hopefully you too Yoongi."    Yoongi scratched his head and muttered something about having too much to do before letting out a frustrated sigh and glancing back over at you. "Do you want to go (Y/N)?"    "What? Oh, well...I'm not much of a party person but I would like to be able to be there for Jungkook! Besides, it would be nice to meet your brothers and friends..." You let out the last part more quietly as you felt heat creep over your cheeks.    Yoongi let out another sigh before looking back over at Namjoon. "Fine, I'll go too. Under one condition, you go straight back after this. It took me ages to try to fix everything after your last accidental fire."    Namjoon gave a more embarrassed laugh this time but his smile didn't disappear as he said, "Sounds like a plan, stan!" Another loud crack and he was gone.    "I'm not Stan.." Yoongi muttered as you both started walking away. You couldn't help but laugh at that.    "It's a human saying Yoongs. So who was that guy?"    "Namjoon? Oh, you'd know him as Prometheus. He's interesting to talk to but I highly recommend you don't give him an easily breakable object. He could give Perses a run from his money on his job title."    "You know that reminds me, every time I ask Jungkook what his God name is he just laughs. Who is he?"    Yoongi's eyes narrowed at mine for a moment as he stopped walking. Finally, he lowered his head down to the ground as he slowly started forward again, "Jungkook is probably known to you as Apollo."    "I never took the god of music and sun as much of a trickster but that's interesting...so I suppose I'll get to meet your other friends at this birthday party?"    "Mmmm. I suppose if that's what you would call them."    "Well, what would you call them?"    Yoongi glanced back over, a smirk on the edge of his lips. "Annoyances, idiots, trouble-makers. If they are only close friends of Jungkook then this should be interesting, if it's many of the gods then you might want to be careful..." He stopped for a moment as he looked at you intently, his face hardened and the fleeting playfulness just a second earlier had vanished. "Not all the gods are as understanding about humans forgetting most of them. Many are petty and jealous, and most have never tasted defeat especially at the hand of a human. They might want to wage a fight...I don't think that will happen...but... I would rather that you stay close to me, many of them do not understand death and they fear me so you should be safe."    "They fear death, or they fear you?"    Again he held a steady gaze as he mulled the thoughts over. "Both for some, mostly just death. Gods can die, but it is not common and unlike humans, we will not walk again. The time that we have can be eternal, but we can also be broken and slaughtered. There used to be brutal wars of Gods fighting each other, but we finally have all come to a relative peace mostly because they fear death so much. You ask interesting questions <y/n>, but I again would rather that you ask them to me and not to the other gods. It's safer that way..."    You tried to give a smile to Yoongi as you turned back to him. "Thank you...really...I appreciate that you listen to me and answer me....and I look forward to uh...going to the party with you. Well...I uh...I suppose I should get something to eat."    With a courteous nod and the ghost of a smile, Hades left you at the entrance of the house to return to work.

+++    Unfortunately, the rest of the week went by far too quickly. Your head had been a mess and while you had managed to at least refocus and get back in routine at Uni the hours outside of it were spent with you trying not to shout out that you kind of sort of technically had a date with Yoongi. While he didn't say he was going because of you, he did say to stay close to him and as Hobi pointed out he also agreed to come after you said you were going. Your brain was practically a fireworks show when that thought first came to your head but as the days grew closer you were starting to feel heavy pangs of anxiety. There was the thought that you were just a human that constantly taunted you, the understanding that you had to come clean and tell Yoongi soon, the fear that this bizarre little haven in the underworld you had quickly grown attached to might no longer be there. It wasn't even so much of the fact that you might never come back, it wasn't even the easier lifestyle, it was the thought that once you finally told Yoongi everything might come crashing down.    Hobi had told you that you should just get it over with and tell Yoongi as quickly as possible, and also warned you that Yoongi desperately hated parties and to not tell him the day of or the day after as he tended to be far angrier then. While the words were in a sense helpful, they were not comforting.    You weren't sure how but you had gotten Yoongi to agree to pick you up and get coffee with you again on Friday, and the feeling of butterflies and anxiety had melted together in your stomach until they formed deep knots as you awkwardly gazed at him over your matcha latte. You had tried to form a plan, at the best of it you figured that you would tell Yoongi everything over coffee far away from the Styx and hope that all would go well. The last few mornings Hoseok had been hyping you up and you were starting to finally feel prepared. Hoseok was right, there was no sense in waiting and hoping that something would happen. If you wanted something you would have to grab it yourself.    "So...how's school?" Yoongi's words stopped your thoughts and you squinted down at the drink as you tried to remember English.    "Ah, good. Say Yoongi...I uhh..." You wanted to listen to Hoseok's warning of 'just say it outright, he's too thick to understand otherwise' but you felt suddenly unsure and afraid as you looked across at him. "So, this party tomorrow. Umm..Namjoon never said what time it begins. When should we leave?"    Yoongi's gaze darkened as he looked down into his coffee. "Hmm...well they never really set a time. You just, kind of show up. I would probably say to leave after breakfast, I'm assuming that's when everything will begin. I should warn you, they'll want this to go on overnight and things can easily get out of hand...if you are ever uncomfortable just let me know and we can go. Under no circumstances do you have to stay if you don't want to, and you don't have to do anything if you don't want to. I want you to understand that I'm here to help."    The knots seemed to loosen and a comforting warmth rushed through you at his words. "I...thank you Yoongi. I really mean it. I know you don't like these kinds of things so if you want to leave too, I'll go back home. It won't be much fun without you, and...I would rather be with you..." You concentrated down at your now empty cup as a blush climbed up your chest all the way up to your ears. Finally, you stole a quick glance and saw the most radiant gummy smile directed at you. While you had failed to confess and in that sense, this coffee 'date' had been a failure it had at the very least succeeded in melting away anxiety. No matter what Jungkook's party would bring, no matter the fact that you were just a human, no matter the fact that he didn't know he liked you, you at the very least had Hades by your side and that made all the difference.   

+++++ A/N

Okay, so I know that this is both rushed and also moving slowly but I’m already buried in homework and I wanted to get something out instead of just sitting on this forever. I actually had planned for this to be more the ‘big confession’ moment but it seemed too rushed when I did that. That being said the next chapter will most def. have some smut. Thank you for the love and I really appreciate you guys reading this mess!

Also for those who had to scroll by this in mobile, I’m hoping that the staff fixes the update so that the read more option works again soon!

[mostlysignssomeportents]

#2yrago Reminder: Neal Stephenson predicted Donald Trump in 1994

In 1994, Neal Stephenson and his uncle George Jewsbury published a novel called Interface, about a high-tech, poll-centric election.

As I've written, this is one of the great underappreciated political novels of our time, and now that Trump is on the campaign trail, I am reminded daily of it, because he is the living, breathing avatar of a cable installer-turned-politician called "Earl Strong" (née Erwin Dudley Strang). Here is the scene in which Strang/Strong gets his comeuppance, from a black single mother called Eleanor, who is a veteran and who has just become homeless after her husband's suicide, and who happens upon a Strong rally at a mall.

"I don't see people standing in line for a handout. I don't see people going to court and suing other people for what they think the world owes them. I don't see people breaking into other people's homes and stealing things. I see people working hard in honest businesses, small businesses, and to me that is what makes America the greatest nation on earth."

Applause.

"And I have particular respect for the small businessmen, and women - let's not forget the women's libbers!-" laughter "-who built these businesses, because for a number of years, I was a small businessman myself, owning and operating my own enterprise as an independent contractor."

Eleanor could not restrain herself; standing now at the base of the podium, she spoke up. "Excuse me! Excuse me?"

Earl Strong looked down at her with a fixed, glazed smile. He noticed that she was black. Once again, he got that look on his face.

But he was older and, if not wiser, then smarter. He didn't let it throw him off. She could see the wheels turning beneath his artificial face. She could see him having an inspiration, making a quick command decision.

"I don't usually take questions from the audience at this point in the speech," he said, "but some people have been saying that I only appeal to one kind of person, and I'm glad to see that a racially diverse group is here today, and I see that one of them has a comment she wants to make, and I'm very interested in hearing what she has to say. Ma'am?"

Television sound men brandished their boom microphones like fishermen on a dock waving grotesque, furry lures, competing for the attention of the only fish in the pond.

"You were saying that you were a businessman," she said, and suddenly her voice was very loud through the amplifiers, and she realized that she didn't have to shout anymore.

"That I was," Strong said. But his voice didn't come through; Eleanor had the microphones.

"You were a cable TV installer," she said, in a normal tone of voice. She sounded good. Everyone had always said she had a good telephone voice.

"Yes, ma'am, that I was," Strong said, shouting toward the microphones now, his voice high and strained.

"Well, a cable TV installer isn't so much a businessman as he is a burglar with pretensions."

Most of the crowd gasped. But a lot of them actually laughed. Not the deep forced belly laughter with which they had responded to Earl Strong's canned jokes. It was nervous tittering, choked off in the middle, just this side of hysteria.

Earl Strong was cool. He was good. The smile on his face barely wavered. He was silent and calculating for a few moments, waiting for the laugher to die away, searching her up and down with his eyes.

"Well," he said, "I must say that's quite a disrespectful attitude for a woman who's carrying a big piece of cheese in her bag that was paid for by my tax dollars."

A smattering of belly laughs, and sparse applause. Most of the people were silent, nervously realizing that Earl Strong was verging on dangerous territory. And in the near vicinity of Eleanor, there was violent convection in the crowd. Die-hard Earl Strong supports were stepping away from her as if she was going to give them AIDS, and minicam crews and news photographers were converging on her as if she were going to make them famous.

"Well," Eleanor said, "I would say that even showing yourself in public is pretty cheeky when you are nothing more than a pencil-neck Hitler wannabe with a face from Wal-Mart."

This time, there was utter silence, except for a few sharp intakes of breath.

Earl Strong had gone bright red under his pancake makeup.

"Besides," she added, "this cheese didn't come from your tax dollars. It was bought by churchgoers who give money to support a public food bank. Have you ever been to church, Mr. Strong? Before you started running for something, that is."

"I am a conservative Christian," he said. "I have no qualms about saying so."

"You have no qualms about saying anything that'll get you elected."

Another nervous titter from the crowd. But father away, around the fringes, a cheer went up; passing shoppers had gathered, attracted by the noise and now they were cheering her on.

"I saw you show up just now in that tacky limousine. Most of the people who ride around in that thing are used-car salesmen or silicone beauty queens. Which one are you?" she said.

"I resent the implication that there's something wrong with the used-car trade."

"It's not exactly a character reference for you, Erwin Dudley Strang or whatever your name is."

"My name is Earl Strong. And it's an honest business like any other."

"Oooh, Erwin Dudley Strang is giving me a lecture about how to be honest," Eleanor said. "I know you think all black people are dishonest. Well, the only dishonest thing I've ever done is tell myself I had a chance to make it in a white society."

"There we have it," Strong said, addressing the crowd again. "The defeatist attitude that is bringing our economy down and brainwashing many minority people into thinking that they have to have affirmative action programs in order to succeed. This is a classic example of the attitude problem that prevents black people from succeeding, even where no real impediments exist."

"I don't have a car," Eleanor said. "That's a real impediment. I don't have a job. My husband's dead. How many more impedi­ments do I need?"

"None whatsoever," Strong said. "That's plenty. Why don't you just shut up now."

"I won't shut up because I'm hurting you on television, and you don't have the brains or the balls to stop me."

A big whooo! went up from the shoppers.

Strong laughed. "Lady, I represent a political ground swell in this country that is more powerful than you can imagine. And there is nothing you can do, on or off television, to hurt me. All you do is annoy me."

"I know that's what you think. Ever since you took that belt sander to your face you think you're the second coming of Ronald Reagan. You think you're made of teflon. Well, it takes more than a simple mind and synthetic smile to be Ronald Reagan. You also have to be likable. And you aren't any more likable than you were when you showed up at my door at 4:54 p.m. and installed my cable like some kind of a trained monkey."

"Oh, so that's it," he said. "This is some kind of vendetta." Strong looked up at the crowd, turning his face up into the light again. "This woman is upset because she gets static on her daytime soap operas."

"No," Eleanor said, turning around to face the crowd, "I'm upset because my son just got shot in the back for using a pay phone. And Earl Strong, this juvenile delinquent with a fifty-dollar haircut, is standing up tall and pretty telling me it's all because I don't have values. Well, I may be sleeping in a car and eating government surplus cheese but at least I haven't sunk low enough to become a politician who feeds happy lies to starving children."

"I am exactly the opposite of the kind of politician you think I am," Earl Strong said, "I am a man of the people. A populist."

"A populist? To you, a populist is someone who's popular ... to you, a homecoming queen is a populist. To me, a populist is someone who serves the needs of the populace. And the only thing you've ever done for the populace is show up late, drill holes in their houses, and hand them a big fat bill. Which is exactly what I predict you'll do for us in the Senate."

A high, enthusiastic screeching arose from the predominantly female shoppers gathered around the edge, whose numbers had now swelled to exceed the Strong supporters. They rattled their shopping bags, waved their fists in the air, and stomped the floor with their stylish pumps.

Interface [Neal Stephenson and J. Frederick George/Spectra]

https://boingboing.net/2016/06/10/reminder-neal-stephenson-pred.html

[londone-fog]

Friday, Never Hesitate- Reddie Soulmate AU

AO3 Link

Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday

The next day, his mother told him to swallow a new pill. Oblong, slightly pink in color. It was bitter on his tongue, and he didn’t like it. The back pain went away after a couple of days.

But his Mama told him to keep taking them.

He didn’t want to upset her.

Chapter Four- Tuesday

Eddie hated chemistry. He hated it with every fibre of his being. Richie didn’t exactly make it easy on him either. He sat next to him in class, tapping his fingers against the edge of his desk, the repetitive noises drilling into his skull. He simply couldn’t focus. The teacher kept on droning and droning, and Eddie felt like his brain was going to explode. He ran his finger around the outline of his inhaler in his pocket, trying in vain yet again to focus on this class. Eventually, he leaned over to Richie, teeth gritted.

“If you don’t stop tapping your desk, I’m gonna shove my foot up your ass.”

“That a promise?” Eddie groaned in frustration, drawing the attention of the teacher.

“Mr. Kasprak, may I help you with something?” he asked, tone condescending in every sense of the word.

“No Sir,” Eddie murmured, looking down into his lap. Embarrassment burned hot under his cheeks, anger at Richie swelling in his chest.

“Now, starting with tomorrow, be will be talking about soulmates and how chemistry can be applied to them. How it plays a part in soulmarks and everything.” The bell rang just as he finished his statement, and dread couldn’t help but build up in Eddie’s gut. He hated it anytime anyone in his class would bring up the subject of soulmates. But that seemed to be the only thing people wanted to talk about, the only thing songs on the radio sang about, the only thing that showed up on movies and TV.

It was just a reminder that, even at 17, Eddie still had no soulmark, and by extension, no soulmate.

Richie jogged up next to Eddie as he exited the classroom, grin in place and hands fiddling with the straps of his backpack.

“What’s got you in such a tizz, Eds? That was pretty damn funny, if I do say so myself.”

Eddie mumbled a response, thoroughly agitated. Richie’s demeanor changed a little, his bravado halting and assessing the situation. He leaned a bit closer to Eddie so only he can hear.

“Is your back bothering you?”

Of course it was. It always was these days. The dull itch from his childhood had begun to morph into a low burn as he grew older, aching and raw at all hours of the night and day.

“I guess. I just feel like shit.” Richie nodded, deep in thought.

“Let’s go to lunch, yeah? I know I could use a pick me up.” Eddie nodded, allowing himself to be led outside to Richie’s car.

Richie’s car was truly something to behold. Bright orange, paint peeling from being exposed to the sun for too long. The pair climbed into the rickety vehicle, Eddie trying to ignore the flaps of seat upholstery that had peeled up and now poked at his legs. He didn’t want to imagine the amount of people who’d owned this car before Riche, or even the type of people they had been. Richie started the car, engine coughing to life and radio blaring whichever cassette they’d been listening to this morning.

Richie loved cassettes, and records, and just music in general. Eddie had boxes upon boxes of tapes his friends had made him over the years. Bev sent them from Portland, and she came up to visit them on holidays and for some time during the summer, always bringing tapes for the members of the loser’s club. Mike had only ever made one, Ben had made a few offhandedly, Bill a few more. But most were from Richie. Slipped into lockers, mailboxes, thrown through open windows, tossed into laps.

Thought you might like this.

And Eddie listened to them diligently, drowning out his mother’s cries and day-time TV with the loud drum crashes and guitar solos that Richie loved so much. It was all a little too harsh, but it stopped Eddie from thinking too hard while his headphones slipped over his ears.

Richie carefully maneuvered out of the parking lot, obviously being more safety conscious for Eddie’s sake.

“So what’s got your goat? You seem like something’s bothering you.”

Eddie brings his knees to his chest, scuffed shoes resting on the dashboard. He balls his hands in the hem of his sweatshirt, running his thumb along the seam.

“I just hate it when they bring up soulmates in class. It doesn’t even have to do with anything. You don’t need another person to make you happy.”

Richie gave a concerned sort of smile.

“I know that, Eds. Trust me, if anyone even has a little understanding of what you mean, it’s me.”

Eddie nodded. Richie’s mark was still just barely a whisper of a thing. There had been a few nights that he’d crawled through Eddie’s window in tears, fearing for whoever his soulmate was.

“I just wish there was something I could do. I’m the outlier. The .1% left on a hand sanitizer bottle. I’m tired of it.”

“I know Spaghetti Head, but think of it this way. At least you won’t be one of those ninnies who thinks their soulmate is the one and only person they need. You have friends who care about you, and that lovely mother of yours.” Eddie refrained from commenting on that last part. “What more could a guy want?”

“To not be ostracized in front of my peers.” Eddie murmured tersely. Richie gave another anxious sort of smile, patting Eddie on the kneecap. For once, he seemed to be at a loss of what to say.

-

Eddie once again sat in class, trying his best not to drift off into a deep sleep. Sure enough, his teacher kept true to his word. The board was filled with the chemical application of soulmates, from how the marks showed up to how the attraction of soulmates was unlike normal attraction. Eddie’s notebook remained empty. He was either uninterested, or already knew what the teacher would say.

He looked over at Richie, who for once took diligent record of the teacher’s lecture. He glanced back at Eddie, giving him the OK symbol with his fingers and raising an eyebrow. Eddie gave a sideways thumbs up. Richie grinned at him, attempting to elicit a smile.

It didn’t quite work.

Eddie thought back to the day he told his mother he didn’t have a soulmark. He’d been about nine years old then, sitting at the dining room table across from her, silent.

“Mama,” he said, oh so quietly. “Why don’t I have a soulmark yet? Everyone else in my class has theirs. They have for a long time.”

She paused, a thousand emotions running over her face.

“Well, sweetheart, you might not have a soulmate.”

“Oh.” The bottom of Eddie’s stomach dropped out of his feet.

“It’ll be alright. You don’t need a soulmate. You have me. A mother is better than any soulmate you could ever find. Eat your brussels sprouts.”

“Yes Mama.”

That night, he’d slunk up to his room, trying hard to ignore the irritated skin between his shoulders. He didn’t cry, too wracked with sorrow to let even an iota escape him. In that moment, he wished desperately that Richie was his soulmate. He was rowdy and sometimes annoying, but he was always at Eddie’s side when he needed help. He stopped people bullying him. He would be soft and understanding when the situation called for just that. They were best friends.

Eddie looked at Richie now. He still sometimes wished for just that.

“Mr. Kaspbrak.” Eddie jolted in his seat, facing the front again. The teacher stood, arms crossed, eyebrows furrowed.

“Since you seem to know everything about this unit, would you mind telling us what exactly animoprophen is and what it does?”

Eddie burned hot, anger bubbling under his skin. But, the word was familiar. It was a drug, one sitting in his medicine cabinet at home. One he took every single day since he was seven.

“Animoprophen is a drug, sir. It helps ease back pain.”

“Only half right, Mr. Kaspbrak. It is a drug, but it isn’t for back pain. Not even close.”

Eddie’s fists balled themselves up, his frustration finally spilling over the edge.

“Excuse me, Mr. Green, I don’t think that’s right. I’ve taken that drug everyday since I was seven. I was prescribed it for back pain.”

“Will someone please tell Mr. Kaspbrak what exactly animoprophen is for?”

A girl in the back raised her hand.

“Animoprophen is a drug given to people with dead soulmates. It makes the mark go away so they are at less risk of depression.”

“Thank you, Cynthia. You must be confusing it with another drug, Edward.”

Eddie knew he wasn’t. People around the classroom did not make their chuckles and whispers a secret, talking behind hands and glancing his way. He could feel his airways closing, breathing growing rapid, fingers becoming numb with static.

The bell finally rang, releasing him from this absolute nightmare. He sprang from his seat, racing into the hallway. He needed to go home, he was going to be sick, he was going to die.

He took mighty puffs from his inhaler, one after another.

One.

Two.

Three.

He didn’t stop. Not even when he heard Richie calling to him from the hallway.

-

Eddie lay in bed that night, examining the pill bottle he’d palmed from the cabinet an hour ago. The light from his lamp shine through the yellowish plastic, turning the pink pills within a sort of orange color. His mom’s name was printed on the bottle. How had he never noticed before? All his other medicine had his name printed on the label. But not this one. Not this fucking one.

He’d run to the pharmacy immediately after chemistry, not waiting up for Richie to give him a ride. Panting, he slammed his palm flat against the counter, drawing the attention of the pharmacist.

“I need you to tell me something,” he said through gritted teeth.

“What’s wrong Eddie. Out of your inhaler?”

“No. I have a question about animoprophen.”

The color quickly drained out of the older man’s face.

“Yes, of course. What is it?”

“My mother told me that it was for back pain. Back pain I’ve had since I was seven. But I was just told in my class just now that it’s to get rid of soulmarks? Explain.”

The pharmacist swallowed, obviously nervous.

“Yes, they are for soulmarks. They’re prescribed to your mother.”

“What about the other medication? is it even real? Am I taking things I don’t need?”

A pregnant pause swelled before them.

“They’re all placebos. Sugar pills. They don’t affect you at all. Except the animoprophen.” The pharmacist then looked above Eddie’s head at someone entering the store. Eddie turned to see Richie standing there, breathing a little heavily.

“Thanks. For everything,” Eddie said, turning back to the man before him. His words were sharper than an obsidian scalpel. He waited a beat before pushing a small display of brochures to the floor and turning to meet Richie.

“Let’s go.”

Eddie hadn’t confronted his mother yet. Every time he thought he might be able to, he couldn’t. It was his mother. How could she?

A loud thud sounded against his window, followed by muffled cursing. Eddie looked out to see none other than Richie. He also noticed a small crack in his window from the rock Richie has thrown. He lifted the pane, looking at his best friend.

“You’re going to break my window one of these days, Trashmouth.”

“Only if you break my heart first,” he crooned in a sing-song voice. Eddie smirked before racing downstairs to let Richie in, not caring that his mother lay sleeping in her chair.

Once they are safe in Eddie’s room, Richie released a barrage of questions.

“Okay, what happened at the pharmacy? You ran out of class, and so I followed you, and I find you going all bad cop in the drug store. And the amino-whatever? What’s that all about?”

Eddie let the confusion wash over him, again picking up the plastic bottle and running his thumb over the label.

“Animoprophen. It’s a drug used to get rid of soulmarks after your soulmate dies.” He holds up the bottle. “This is prescribed to my mom. She’s been giving it to me since I was seven.” He pulls his inhaler out of his pocket, throwing it across his room in anger. “All my medication is bullshit, Richie. It was never real. She’s been lying to me for nearly ten years. Ten years! That’s more than half of my life!”

Richie didn’t say anything, just rubbed small circles between his shoulders. Eddie leaned into the touch, grateful for the comforting touch.

“What are you gonna do, Eddie?”

“I dunno. Being in the same house as her makes me feel sick. Thinking about everything makes me sick.” He pauses. “I think she’s the fault I never got my mark. I think that medicine stopped it from coming in. It’s her fault. I have a soul mate out there who I might never find, because of her.”

Eddie was a gutted fish, a shattered window, a knife cut, a tornado, a raindrop. Open. Changed. Irreparably broken.

He did not cry.

Richie reached over and wrapped him in a rare embrace, resting his chin on Eddie’s shoulder.

“I’m so sorry. I feel like I should do something, but I can’t. I haven’t felt this powerless since we fought It.”

He pulled away, placing Eddie’s hands in his. He traced the scar on his palm, running his thumb over the raised skin.

“Do you want to stay at my house tonight? My parents won’t be there,” Richie asked quietly, and Eddie though he could sense just a little shyness in his tone.

“I dunno. My ma…”

“She shouldn’t control you anymore. Not after what she did. If you want to go, let's go.”

Eddie nodded.

As they walked down the stairs, Eddie felt his life moving in slow motion. He didn’t avoid the third step. His mother stirred, demanding to know what Richie was doing there, where they were going. She tried to stop them, opening her mouth to yell.

“Mom, I know that you did,” he says plainly, placing the animoprophen in her hand. “I’m going to stay at Richie’s house tonight.”

And just like that, calm as the eye of a hurricane, he walked out the door towards Richie’s car.

ANNOUNCEMENT: So, my amazing friend, who’s read this fic from the start, is turning it into a comic! Please go check her out at @sekiims 

Taglist: @anniewdoodles

[hypnoticharlequin]

Big Fan. I always wnjoy seeing other writers at work. I saw that you were doing prompts, and I tried to figure out a tricky one. So... Prompt: Haunted House Happenings.

(Thank you so much! I’m glad you are enjoying my stuff! And this was a tricky prompt, mostly because I had two or three ideas for where I could take it. I ended up going a little overboard with it!)

"Look, gang,  the old Henderson mansion! Often said to be the most haunted building in all of New England!" Smiled Alison as she looked over the gothic frontage that stood before her, towering into the night.

"Don't ever call us gang again," huffed Clara as she took a few photos. "We are not the Scooby-Doo team."

"But I bought an ascot and everything!" Whined Alison.

"Tough, we are not them and anyhow, you don't have the dumb charm to be Freddy, you are more Daphnie." Replied Clara as she put her camera away and opened the old rusty gate, the creaking noise causing some bats to fly out of a nearby tree.

"Daphnie?!" Shouted Alison incredulously. "Says you, Velma!"

"So, we are going to keep the cameras running constantly, we need the B-roll and this place is going to look a mess regardless of how we try and frame the shots," explained Clara to the two camera girls before turning to respond to Alison. "I know I'm the fan favorite, thank you." She said with a smirk before heading off up the drive.

Alison huffed and followed the others up the drive, something felt off to her, like an electricity in the air that wrapped around her body. She brushed it off quite quickly, it was just nerves. Soon she joined the team on the porch of the house.

"The door is unlocked," explained Clara, twisting the handle to prove it. "I think we should do a scene of you knocking, might be good comic relief." She said as Alison moved closer to the door. Alison twisted her body a bit, trying to line herself up perfectly with the camera, she did want them to get her best side after all.

"Hello, Ghost Hunters! May we come in?" Sung Alison as she hammered on the heavy wooden door. However, as she finished the door swung open and Alison fell in, landing on the floor with a heavy thud.

The camera girls screamed, only for Clara to roll her eyes. "Calm down you two!" She lectured, "it is fine, I obviously knocked it off the latch when I fiddled with the handle." She said before going to help Alison up. Alison coughed a little and tried to brush the dust off her outfit.

"Yeah, it's fine, I'm just clumsy, you know these old houses, the wood warps in the summer and then none of the doors close right." She said as she nodded at the two camera girls. "Really? That had you two shaking?" She sighed as she watched them tremble. "Come on, you're not a load of wimps like those Legendary Truth guys, are you?"

The girls shook their heads and slowly made their way into the house, still visibly trembling. Alison and Clara started to quickly move deep into the bowels of the building.

"So, what is the story of this place?" Asked Clara in her best TV voice.

"Well it is quite the tale," smiled Alison into the camera. "This house seems to drive all its owners mad. There was the bride who took each of her husbands' heads with a hatchet," She explained. "And then there was Dr. Verninstien."

"Well, that is a name that suggests impending doom," smiled Clara, winking into the camera.

"She was a pretty normal neurologist before she went full mad scientist, locked herself in the attic and tried to weaponize the paranormal," continued Alison. "Of course, she vanished after a few years, most people presume she had a lab accident."

Suddenly a large bang echoed through the room. The camera girls screamed, one dropping their camera to the floor. Alison and Clara looked around.

"Upstairs," said Clara calmly before she spotted the camera on the floor. "What the hell?!" She shouted. "If we lost footage due to you two jumping then I'm going to be taking it out of your pay!" She said, picking the camera up and shoving it back into the camera girl's hand.

Alison started to walk up the creaking stairs, her heart pounding in her chest as she looked around, trying to find the source of the noise. As she reached the top of the stairs she found an open door and wandered inside. "There is an open door up here," she shouted down. "Likely a breeze knocked something over," she continued, not looking as she walked deeper into the dark room.

Suddenly the room illuminated with a bright, yet eerie white light. Before Alison was a short woman, she wore a long tattered lab coat that dragged along the floor. Her black hair was messy and unbrushed and around her eyes were deep black circles.

"Who are you?!" Shouted Alison, backing off a few steps before she hit something, the cold metal on her back making her shudder.

"Doctor Ira Verninstien," said the woman, her voice sounding like a radio slowly fading in and out of static. Alison's eyes went wide, her heart was now trying to escape from her chest.

"But, but, you vanished, years ago!" She shouted and stuttered, only now realizing that the room was full of strange devices. "You're dead!"

"Dead?" Laughed the Doctor as she came near. "My dear, I've never felt better." The closer she came the more terrified Alison became, her legs refusing to move, refusing to run despite all of her mind's screams to the contrary.

The Doctor moved closer and closer until she was so close Alison, close enough that Alison should have been able to feel her breath, but there was none. Alison stared up, her eyes pricking with tears, she wanted to cry out and run, but she couldn't.

Suddenly the Doctor let something fall from her hand, an object that swung gently from the Doctor's finger, an object that let out a strange glow. The glow cut through Alison's terror, it seemed oddly calming. She looked at it and found that the more she looked the more beautiful the light became, the more fixated on it she was. She hardly heard the Doctor speaking anymore.

The Doctor let the object sway and smiled. "I've never been more alive, I've found what I needed and now I just need some company, someone to protect my lab from those who wish to snoop," she cackled, watching as Alison's eyes glazed over watching the swaying object. "And this device will allow me to do it, it seems those silly mesmerists were right, they just didn't go far enough," she said gravely.

Suddenly Alison felt a sharp stabbing pain in her mind, she let out a scream and collapsed to the floor, limp.

"Alison, Alison?" Shouted Clara. Alison blinked heavily as the world came back into focus. Clara was above her, shaking her by her shoulders. The two camera girls were behind her, looking terrified.

"What. What happened?" Moaned Alison, holding her head.

"You ran up here on your own and hit your head," explained Clara, pointing to a roof beam that lay next to her. "Knocked yourself right out."

"I can feel it," nodded Alison, pulling herself up to her feet, swaying slightly as she did. "So, where were we?"

"Whoa, whoa. No, we're going and getting you to a hospital." Replied Clara firmly. "You could have a concussion, it's fine, we'll come back another day."

"I'm fine." Replied Alison, an unusual firmness in her voice. "Let's get this done, the hospital can wait a bit."

"But," started one of the camera girls only to be cut off.

"I said I'm fine! If you two had been following me like you should have been maybe I wouldn't have hit my head, so just point the cameras and let's get this done!" Snapped Alison, causing the two camera girls to jump back in shock.

"Right, okay, look let's get this attic filmed," said Clara, getting between the camera girls and Alison and trying to diffuse the situation as best she could. Alison took a deep breath and nodded trying to push aside the deep throbbing in her brain.

"This room looks untouched," muttered one of the camera girls. Clara nodded.

"Yeah, I guess it is further than most venture, looks like there could be a lot of cool finds in her, lets search around, could be some fun objects to film," she said as she started to walk around and inspect various drawers.

Alison did the same, going around the room, pulling open anything that wasn't nailed shut in an attempt to find something interesting. However, everything seemed dull to her, nothing had that "it" factor that made her want to devote filming time to it. Then she came to a wardrobe and opened it gently.

Inside was a tattered lab coat. Alison was hit by a wave of almost childlike excitement, she couldn't contain it. She grabbed the coat and slipped it on. It felt right, it felt perfect. Then she saw a slim beam of light at the back of the wardrobe. She pushed firmly and a secret door opened, revealing a lab, just like the one she had seen when she was out cold.

The throbbing in her head was gone, Alison stepped inside and smiled to herself, this was perfect. But not for filming. Perfect for something more. "Hey, guys come into the wardrobe, check this out!"

Clara turned and looked at the two camera girls. "Well, looks like we have something to film, come on." She said, gesturing them to follow her. The girls lagged behind, keen to keep as much distance between them and Alison as possible.

As Clara went through the hole in the back of the wardrobe she let out a large scream. The girls ran in and saw a horrific sight before them. Alison stood in the center of the room, clad in a filthy old lab coat, her eyes totally glazed over. Coming out of her body were thin strands of light leading up to a ghostly figure that floated above the girl.

"Whats wrong guys? Isn't this cool?" Said Alison. Or at least, her mouth moved and words came out of it, her voice sounded off, the strands of light making her look like nothing more than a puppet of this weird entity.

"Let go of her!" Shouted Clara, moving forward to try and grab Alison. But Alison just moved back and avoided Clara's futile attempts to grab her.

In unison the entity and Alison laughed, their voices sounding horribly dissonant as they rang out in unison. "Oh come on, don't you want to discover the paranormal? Don't you want to find out its true power?"

The camera girls looked at each other and then turned and tried to run, but the door slammed shut. "Now now, no escaping, we need to do some research first!" laughed Alison. Clara grabbed onto Alison and tried to pull the strings out, only to find that her hands went straight through them.

Alison looked at Clara with a sick smile, wrapping her hands around the girl's throat and squeezing. Clara tried to fight and tried to struggle, but Alison was much stronger than she had ever imagined. Clara felt the world fading around her as her air ran out. She swung wildly at Alison and hit her square in the jaw, but Alison didn't flinch, with one tight squeeze Clara fell into the darkness.

Clara twitched awake, coughing as she did. She tried to move but found that she could not. She looked down and realized she was strapped into a machine. In front of her was a strange disc and she could see wires running above her, connecting to something she could feel on her head.

"Awake, wonderful, would hate for you to miss the party," said Alison as she moved in front of Clara. Clara spat, she knew this wasn't really Alison, even if she couldn't see that weird entity anymore.

"Fight this Alison, I know you're in there!" Shouted Clara, pleading with her friend.

"Oh what? You think the power of love is going to snap me out of this?" Laughed Alison. "No, the Doctor has shown me the true nature of the universe, and you are going to join me by hook or by crook."

"No! I won't!" Shouted Alison, trying to formulate an argument, but before she could Alison threw a switch and the disc in front of her started to spin. Clara stared at it, the colors blending into one changing and spiraling mass.

"Are you trying to, hypnotize me?" Asked Clara, unsure how to react. She found herself giggling a little, unsure how to process this information. Alison just smirked as a bolt of electricity coursed through Clara, causing her to scream and spasm.

Clara's mind swam, the pain was immense, but the colors, something about them kept her focused like they were dulling the pain like they were doing something she couldn't quite put her finger on. Every time she got close to working it out another shock ran through her body, shaking her brain up, breaking her thoughts. Time stretched as Clara stared into the disc, her thoughts becoming easier to rebuild, she felt sure of them. Despite the pain of the shocks, Clara found herself feeling happier, her brain felt like it had been decluttered, all of the junk that was weighing her down had been removed. After a while, even the shocks started to feel good, as long as Clara had the colors everything in the world was just perfect.

A snap. Clara blinked and looked around the disc was static once more.  She turned her head and saw two women stood next to her. "Alison! Doctor Verninstien!" She smiled, her eyes crossing as she did. The girls looked at her expectantly as Clara realized she could move. Clara climbed out of the machine, knowing exactly what she had to do. She knelt before the two women and smiled up at them. "How may I serve you?" She asked calmly.

"So my plan is we go down and do the whole thing on handheld cameras." Smiled the girl as she talked to the other people around the table. "Give it that gritty found footage feel, something me and Sam are really great at doing." She explained as she pointed to the girl on the other side of the table.

"Right," replied a redhead, flicking through the proposal in front of her. "But isn't that place haunted?"

"Just a local urban legend," reassured the girl. "We can use it in the marketing, maybe fake some paranormal events to upload online for a bit of viral buzz," she explained.

"But it is totally safe?" Asked the redhead.

"Oh yeah, totally safe, you have my word for it," grinned the girl, looking up and catching a glimpse of her reflection in a mirror. She smiled wider as she saw the thin string of light run from her forehead to the figure of Doctor Verninstien that floated gently behind her.

[plathsberry-farm]

7, 13, 19?

7. Is there anything that you’ve done/experienced so much you hate it now? Easiest to come up with are like, food or music. 

Oh boy do I!

Plain pineapple, bananna bread, one very specific type of barbecue sandwich, peanut butter straight off the spoon, Dickey's Barbecue's gosh dang big yellow cups, goop (the energy shot), and the song 'My Mona lisa' that I listened to so many times it burnt straight through my brain and now I just get voidfish static when I think about it.

I do this a lot.

13. If you had to come up with your last words right now… what would they be?

Tbh my brain shuts off as soon as that first sweet hit of adrenaline kicks in so it'd probably be smth like 'wha?' And then BLAM.

19. What could you happily give a two hour lecture on?

Reenacted archeology! Just the whole concept of recreating history in order to really understand the what's and how's and why-fors.

Theres this tv series called historical farm where 3 archiologists live as farmers from varying periods of history in the UK for an entire year. They raise and harvest crops and livestock, participate in the celebrations of the time, and explain the details of the culture and technologies.

I love it! I could probably find more than 2 hours of material tbh!

[worldupdatereviews2017-blog]

Gambhir Gaffe: Is sporting spirit a history now?

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Gambhir Gaffe: Is sporting spirit a history now?

Srinagar: “Sports ought to by no means be blended with politics,” author George Orwell once wrote in his iconic The wearing Spirit. He wrote the piece at the crease of the England go to by using the Russian football crew Dynamo that noticed them play four matches towards the English facets, most of them turning unpleasant with gamers coming to changing blows. In place of enhancing the Anglo-Soviet relations, it had a negative impact prompting Orwell to call for Sports activities to not be considered as a matter of national delight, however, to be treated simply as it is.

Sporting Spirit 

Orwell’s assertion is in no manner located to be followed via carrying international locations in the contemporary times. Sports have grown to be more of a trademark of the state of political members of the family among international locations. No sooner there is diplomatic tiff among the countries, Sports activities exchanges are the primary casualty.

In struggle-ridden places, Sports is used as a tool to score political points, sell as an indicator of peace and what now not.

Sub-continent is a prototype of how Sports exchanges are dependent on political ecosystem between the countries, with neighbors India and Pakistan its protagonists.

A political imbroglio between the two arch-opponents brings Sports encounters to a standstill. Cricket- famous and most accompanied game in each the countries- receives stalled no faster there may be an anxiety among the neighbors. Submit 2007, there was no bilateral series between India and Pakistan and the latter’s cricketers are barred from collaborating in the coins wealthy Indian gold standard league.

For any government to attain brownie factors, cricket encounters are stopped to thrill the masses. For years, it has been restricted to politicians and respective governments to take a decision on Sports exchanges in the days of heightened anxiety among India and Pakistan.

Whilst the governments maintain to use Sports as a manifestation of relationship with Pakistan and vice-versa, there may be a risky trend that has set in with cricketers no longer shying far from expressing their perspectives on something and everything: howsoever unsuitable it may be. maximum of its miles selective outrage missing context and historical information. greater than something else it appears gamers are satisfied playing to the gallery.

The latest episode that bowled over all of the sane voices across the divide became Indian opener Gautam Gambhir’s current statement that one hundred ‘jihadis’ (study Kashmiris) ought to be killed for every slap on army jawan. The left hander’s tweet came in reaction to a video wherein a protester become hitting a CRPF jawan soon after the end of bye-elections in a Budgam village.

Indian media didn’t waste a 2nd in projecting the government forces as victims without citing the killing of eight Kashmiris on the same day.

Gambhir and his former Indian teammate Virender Sehwag joined the chorus showing their anger over the incident. Gambhir, now not behooving to a cricketer of his elegance, got here up with the phrases that called for a bloodbath of Kashmiris.

“For each slap on my army’s Jawan lay down at least a hundred jihadi lives. Whoever desires Azadi Leave NOW! Kashmir is ours. #kashmirbelongs2us” tweeted Gambhir.

In Gambhir’s tumultuous tweet, there may be a chief caution. Sports and sportspersons alike are now not bereft of giving an opinion over non-carrying topics. Sehwag trolling Gurmehar Kaur-daughter of an ex-soldier- over her comment that ‘Pakistan didn’t kill her father, but the battle did’ became any other example of a sportsperson crossing the boundaries of decency to please most people.

Inside the apparel of nationalism and patriotism, the likes of Gambhir and Sehwag have buried the sporting spirit underneath the avalanche in their words that sell hatred and hegemony.

For a real Sports nerd, the brand new trend is worrisome. Gambhir and Sehwag lecturing on political subjects while not having a sense of another facet of the story ought to set an example for budding cricketers. The ones trying to emulate their cricketing performances will absolutely be affected by all. It’d be hard to disclaim that during this day and age of internet and social media, whatever those cricketers having a referring to their followers. They follow them in letter and spirit: performances, mannerism and greater importantly mentality (selecting their brains).

One would hope common sense prevails and the tribe of Gambhir and Sehwag doesn’t get bigger and sportspersons guard the wearing spirit which seems records in modern-day times.

Convey Domestic the sporting Spirit With First rate Basketball Wall Decals Are you a basketball fan? Then what quality to Convey out your sporting spirit than by way of decorating your room with gorgeous basketball wall decals. Basketball is a well-known sport in the US and you may stumble upon many folks that like to play basketball. Youngsters who’re Sports fan love to boast about their favorite teams or players and would like their bedrooms decked with such wall posters.

The finest advantage of using those NBA wall stickers is that they may be smooth to put off on the grounds that they arrive with adhering static hang that does not Depart stains or peel paints off partitions. Human beings living in rented homes may just like the concept of those wall decals, considering the fact that their landlords will not be able to stumble on a moderate trace of those decals.

When you have a smaller room, you then would possibly favor to cross in for small versions of these wall decals. The exceptional manner to acquire such statistics is via surfing the net and figuring out from the numerous, sizes, shapes, designs and subject matters they should provide. If you are a diehard fan of basketball you may even buy large basketball bed room stickers to embellish the flooring and cabinets of your room.

Planning on having a celebration with friends and own family? Well, those basketball wall graphics are the solution to your party needs. In case your friend or youngster is a basketball Sports activities fan, then you may even present those wall decals to them. those basketball wall decals are stain resistant and may without problems be put up at the partitions of the birthday party hall with out you having to fear approximately Youngsters jogging their messy arms throughout them.

those wall decals to bring forth the carrying spirit amongst you and your circle of relatives during the basketball season. you may easily have life size player decals showing gamers in action stuck behind your Tv, eating rooms or maybe halls. Youngsters will have their very personal favored basketball group logos positioned up on their bed room doors or floors so that they can be the envy of their friends or classmates.

Consider how extraordinary the games room will appearance on the ‘big day’ while your favorite basketball group is gambling on the display screen. This is one manner of carrying your loyalty and also growing a first rate cool living surroundings with the help of those amusing stuffed wall decals.

A number of the most popular basketball decals that you would possibly come upon are Kobe Bryant, Larry Bid, Michael Jordon and plenty of extras. In case you seek a bit further, you might even get a few glow in the darkish wall stickers of basketballs, hoops, nets and lots of extra.

In a nutshell, we are able to conclude that those basketball wall decals prove to be an ideal device for redecorating bedrooms and hallways. those may be carried round at the time of transferring or relocation without any problem. Furthermore, they may be made from vinyl and aren’t easily breakable even Whilst handled more or less. inside the case of a Sports, activities themed bed room, you may even have those wall posters placed up at the tables, furniture, e-book shelves.