#and I’ve seen all the iron deficiency jokes in the world

[just-rogi]

I’m so fucking cold right now it’s not even funny how does this happen I’m under an ungodly amount of blankets and my fingers are still ice and I’m shivering I hate having a temperature regulation disorder

[crushing-on-nico-di-angelo]

This is kind of a random question but...

Do you know why people hate Rick Riordan?

I just have no information, and I’ve seen a lot of stuff lately talking about how he’s problematic.

hi!! yes, I've seen things about this as well. I can list the reasons I've seen. I don't agree with all the points made, but its just what I've seen and I think it may answer your question. I also recommend going through the tag #rr crit, as it will give you a lot more and detailed information regarding him (beware: there are quite a few buzzwords. I recommend taking the facts and forming your own conclusions). I also think it's important to note that many people don't hate him, but they acknowledge that since he's a cishet white man there's things he didn't handle well and he needs to listen to critisicm.

Completely mishandled Piper's native American heritage. From the feather in her hair, to her dad being from a reservation that doesn't exist in Oklahoma, to having kaleidoscope eyes (some say that it suggests brown eyes aren't beautiful enough for aphrodite, more on this in the next bullet), to being a kleptomaniac, her character is, ignorantly or purposefully, chock full of stereotypes. having a cornucopia being her weapon. when Rick was told that this isn't good he became defensive and didn't listen to any critisicm

not giving female characters chances to be young, or not have a boyfriend or be unconventionally attractive. if they do get to not have a boyfriend, they're thrown into the Hunters of Artemis. their eyes are anything but brown (I do disagree with the eye thing but it's important to note), suggesting that having brown eyes should be considered less than. Sadie got a 1000 year old boyfriend when she was 14. 13 year old Hazel had a 16 year old boyfriend-- that could be a seventh grader and a junior or a freshman and sophomore depending on how you look at it (and I LOVE frazel, don't get me wrong. the age gap is just,,). in fact, the only female non-hunter without a significant other I can name is Meg, and she's 12.

Sadie Kane and the fanart he boosts of her. he frequently shows her looking completely white, despite saying she "stood out in class for being mixed." It honestly wouldn't surprise me if a white girl were cast to play her in the Netflix movies.

treatment of characters with invisible disabilities. this can range from the coment of "You anemic loser" targeted at Octavian (as someone with an iron deficiency, I don't see anything wrong with it, but cmon. kids can see that, rick. you can't control anemia) to Clovis' chronic fatigue being treated as a joke. invisible disabilities are hard and just as painful as physical ones. it doesn't help if you treat them like that.

too much misogyny to list all of it, but we can start with young girls being expected to be, and acting, more mature than they are; the strong female characters portraying the "I'm not like other girls" trope; the entire way Hera was treated.

The way Nico's outing was handled (this is one I especially disagree with, and this post said it best, thanks ghost). A violent outing by the God of love taking place before Nico was ready, according to some, was not what younger gay people needed to see. he should have had a loving environment and, at the very least, it should have been from his own point of view and not Jason's.

anti-acne and fat phobia: Apollo having a deep hatred towards his acne and Frank's glow up including severe weight loss (not being a cuddly teddybear anymore, getting taller) isn't the best thing for kids who have acne or are fat to see.

Samirah al-Abbas: "reversing the stereotype (Rick's words)" of an arranged marriage by having her be in love with a distant cousin is... not reversing the stereotype at all actually. it just falls into it. Having her take off her hijab around floor 19 because they feel like family is also not great, because, to my understanding as a non-hijabi and non-muslim, that is not how being hijabi works. similar to the piper situation, when Rick was told that this isn't good he became defensive and didn't listen to any critisicm

ANTISEMITISM, ANTISEMETISM, ANTISEMITISM. this is one of the ones I agree with the most. Having Hades' children be Nazis, having a plot point revolve around one of the most traumatic events in world history, ignoring the fact of generational trauma and ignoring the fact that It Didn't Matter That It Took Place In World War Three, it could have not had any correlation to the death of over six million Jewish people. it legitimizes evilsurrounding Hades and death, and -- well, this one makes me so mad, I can't explain all of it so here is a post explaining more in depth

Slavery issues: similar to the holocaust, Rick Riordan made one of the most terrible issues in American History into a fight between demigods. this lowers the legitimacy of the issue, makes it seem fictional, makes Camp Jupiter seem terrible and awful, except it doesn't. because camp Jupiter isn't terrible. but the confederacy was. if children, especially white children, learn about the confederacy through camp Jupiter, it makes it seem way less bad than it was.

again, I don't agree with all of this, it's just reasoning as to why. in my eyes, Rick Riordan is a man who has grown in his telling of his stories. he started with a canonical all white, all straight, all cis cast. he has now a series featuring a latino genderfluid queer person. This Post said it better than I ever could.

I know that it's impact over intent in so many situations. and this isn't to say I disagree with all, or even most of his critisim. I just think that he has good intent, and I hate him for absolutely none of it.

I am gay, I am Latino, and I am trans. that is all I can speak on, and I think his rep for that was great. I hope this answered your question, dear anon. again, I encourage you to do your own research and form your own opinions. I only touched on a few issues that Rick has had and there's a lot more to be talked about. I would say to keep in mind his intent and his growth. thank you for the ask, thank you for directing it to me that made me feel happy lol. ily I hope you have a good day

if anyone else has anything to add, by all means please do!!

[katefiction]

Million Pound Baby

by katefiction (Maria) / 2013

St. Mary’s Hospital, London.

Arthur Edwards stood on the front row of a scrum of photographers. Fifty or so of them had been waiting impatiently for their subjects to leave the hospital. Many were trying to jostle to the front, but Arthur was having none of it. The hospital had set up a press pen for a the chosen few, but that hadn’t stopped countless other photographers and TV crews from around the globe setting up camp across the street. 

‘Bringing back memories, Arthur?’ a fellow photographer asked him as he made sure he had all the equipment he needed.

‘Oh yes’ he replied. 

Thirty-one years earlier, he had stood at the same hospital as the Prince and Princess of Wales introduced a baby Prince William to the world. Back then, he had climbed up a nearby scaffolding to get a clear view of the baby’s face, a picture that none of the other photographers had managed to get.

Arthur didn’t fancy his chances of climbing anything like that today, not at his age. His fellow snappers were all much younger and much fitter than he was, but he was still at the top of his game. Thanks in no small part to his good relationship with the Prince of Wales, he had become popular with William too.

‘Any ETA mate?!’, one of the hacks shouted rudely to the guard that was standing at the hospital door.

‘As I’ve already said, someone will be out to give you all the information you need soon.’ he shouted back, shaking his head. The press had been relentless.

Twelve hours earlier, Clarence House had confirmed that the Duchess of Cambridge had been taken to St. Mary’s, and the press rushed to the hospital. Six hours after that came the announcement that she had given  birth to a baby boy.

They had been waiting ever since. 

‘Do you think they’ll come out or not?’, the photographer asked Arthur. There had still been no confirmation that William and Kate would let the press take pictures of their newborn. They had just been waiting there in hope that William wouldn’t let his protectiveness of his family get in the way of a momentousness story. 

‘I hope so, mate’ Arthur replied, looking at his watch. Six pm.    

                                                           * * *

Inside the hospital, in a private birthing suite on the top floor, William and Kate prepared to leave.

Kate, standing in front of the mirror in the en suite bathroom, lifted her hair into a ponytail before dropping it around her shoulders again.

‘Up or down?’ she asked, but got no response.

Poking her head around the door she saw her husband sitting at the end of the bed staring lovingly into a hospital crib.

‘William?’ she repeated. ‘Are you listening? My hair, should I wear it up or down?’

He turned around, pulling his eyes away from the crib for a second. 

‘It looks fine either way’, he said, not paying the slightest bit of attention.

Kate shook her head and returned to the mirror. ‘Spoken from a true baldy.’

‘Oi I heard that!’ he laughed. ‘Anyway, I’m not the only bald one any more, am I little one.’ He looked down once again. 

Their newborn son lay asleep in the crib, wrapped in blanket, his tiny eyelids flickering.

‘We’ll be baldies together’, William smiled. 

‘Give him a year and he’ll have more hair than you’, Kate said walking from the bathroom, having decided on a half up, half down do.

William lifted the baby gently out of the crib and cradled him in his arms. ‘Tell your mummy to stop teasing daddy.’

‘You really should stop taking him out, you’re going to wake him up.’

‘Good. He needs to wake up. He’s been asleep for far too long.’ William said. This was the fourth time this hour that he’d picked him up for a cuddle.

‘Will, I don’t want his eyes open when all those cameras are flashing, please don’t wake him up.’ 

He sensed her anxiety, and her new found mother-lioness attitude.

‘Listen, we don’t have to do this. We can go through the back door, it’s fine’, he said, trying to soothe her.

Kate picked up a baby blanket from the bed and began to fold it meticulously. ‘No, we’ll do it. It’s like Jamie said, if we do this now, they’ll leave us alone for a while.’

‘I need you to be sure. I’m taking your lead on this one’ he said. There were many drawbacks to marrying a prince, William knew this. One of them was being photographed just hours after you had given birth.

‘I am. It’s just five minutes’, she said placing the blanket into a bag. ‘And then mister’, she reached over and stroked her hand over her baby’s soft hair, ‘we can take you home.’

                                                                * * *

John Baker, William and Kate’s press secretary stepped out of the hospital’s main entrance ready for the waiting crowd.

The press pen fell silent.

‘Ladies and gentlemen’ he began. ‘Thank you for your patience.’

Arthur took a couple of snaps. He wouldn’t usually waste his film on royal aides, in fact it was an in joke between the photographers about how often they appeared in the back of shots of the royals. However, today he wanted as many pictures as possible to capture the day.

John continued, reading from a sheet of paper. ‘In approximately ten minutes, their royal highnesses, the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge will be making a short photocall. The duke and duchess will not be answering any questions on this occasion. They kindly request that all noise is kept to a minimum as not to wake their son. Any further information will be released at a later date. Thank you.’

The press began firing a barrage of questions at John.

‘Has the baby got a name?’

‘Who does he look like?!’

However, he retreated back inside as soon as he could. 

Arthur’s stomach turned. It was finally here. He had followed William around the globe since the day he was born, and now he was here back where it all started. He found his mind wondering back to the last time he had seen William.

                                                           * * *

2 months earlier.

Mountain Rescue charity event, London. 

‘Ok everyone, smile’ Arthur said to William as he posed with members of the Mountain Rescue charity, of which he was patron. 

The flash went off capturing their smiling faces.

‘Evening Arthur’, William said later on, shaking his hand. Arthur was often on engagements with William, but he rarely got a chance to a have a conversation with him. 

‘Still going then? I thought you were retiring after I got married?’, William asked in jest.

Arthur laughed. He had indeed told William that he would retire after his wedding.

‘I have three grandchildren to please so I better keep going a while yet.’

‘Three? A handful I suppose?’

‘Oh yes. The eldest wants to go to university in the autumn, and paying that £9000 a year isn’t easy for her parents. I said I’d help out where I can’, he said, holding up his camera as an explanation of why he was still working. 

William nodded sympathetically. He wasn’t allowed to comment on issues such as the huge rise in tuition fees, but privately he wondered how anyone would be able to afford it. 

‘Where does she want to go?’ he said, attempting to steer the conversation away from politics.

‘Durham, Nottingham and somewhere you’d approve of – St. Andrews – are her three choices. Nottingham’s at the top of the list though.’

‘Ah, surely she can change her mind?’ William joked. ‘No better place than St. Andrews.’

Arthur chortled, and then said rather solemnly, ‘with those fees, she might not be going at all…’ He stopped himself, suddenly aware of how inappropriate it was to talk to William about his family’s financial issues.

William looked relieved to be out of that awkward spot, when his secretary Miguel came rushing over.

‘Excuse me, Arthur’, William said, as Miguel led him to one side.   

All Arthur heard next were three words, ‘duchess’, ‘fall’, ‘hospital’, but he knew it was enough to break a story.

William glanced over to him, his bright blue eyes suddenly grey, before rushing away. 

Arthur whipped out his phone, entering the number for the Sun news desk. As the phone rang, he thought of the look he’d just witnessed in William’s eyes.

Over the years he had seen him grow up with warring parents, seen the shadow fall across his face as he walked behind his mother’s coffin, and the anger when the paparazzi got a little too close to his wife.

He pulled the phone away from his ear and hung up before anyone could answer. He was the only member of the media who knew Kate had been taken to hospital. The rest would find out eventually of course, but at least this way, William and Kate could have some choice in when.

                                                                                      * * *

‘Are you ready?’ William asked as Kate, holding the baby in her arms, fiddled with the blanket that surrounded his head.

‘Yeh, I think so’, she said preoccupied with the blanket.

‘You’d say if you weren’t feeling well, wouldn’t you?’, he said, running his hand over her arm.

Two months earlier, she’d collapsed at home with an iron deficiency. William had been incredibly attentive, if not a little fussy, ever since.

‘Stop fussing’, she said, giving him one of her calming smiles. 

They were led by John to the doors, which opened to a symphony of flashes.

‘Whoa’, William grumbled.

Kate instinctively placed a hand over the baby’s eyes as the made their way to the centre.

The shouts all started at once, questions being fired from every direction. William placed a finger to his lips, quieting the pack.

Arthur watched in awe as William worked the hundreds of hungry spectators. He whispered something to Kate, causing her to remove her hand from the baby’s eyes.

Finally they had a good view of their future king. Soft brown hair crowned his tiny head, and full lips accented his face. Arthur snapped quickly, but was being pushed by the photographer to his right, who was trying to get a better shot.

Up on the steps, Kate asked ‘shall I pass him to you?’, an indication that in a couple of minutes, she will have had enough. 

She passed him over gently, placing him in the safety of William’ strong arms, prompting more shouts from the crowd. William scanned the press pen, his eyes landing on Arthur Edwards who was ferociously fighting for his place with another photographer.

‘Kate do you see Arthur?’, he said, leaning in to her.

She too, scanned the crowd, eventually finding him. ‘Yes.’

‘Do something for me. When I turn to him, I want you to look into his camera’, he said.

‘Are you sure?’ she asked, confused. It was common knowledge that a picture with a royal looking straight into your camera was more valuable than most. It was very rare to get two royals to do that in these kind of photo calls.

‘I owe him one’, he said. ‘I’ll explain later.’ Unbeknownst to Arthur, William was well aware of what Arthur had done, or hadn’t done at the charity event that night.  

William turned to look straight into Arthur’s camera, and Kate followed, smiling widely. 

Arthur stopped, stunned at what he was witnessing. William was turning the baby’s head ever so slightly so that Arthur had the three of them facing him. Finally his finger reacted, snapping wildly before they turned away. 

And then it was over. 

‘Ok?’ William said to Kate.

She nodded, her sign that it was time to leave. He passed the baby back to her, and linked and arm around her waist, leading her away from the mass, but not before he caught Arthur’s eye, giving him a quick nod.

As soon as they were back inside, the press retreated. Some would try and catch them leaving the hospital. Others went to get their pictures sent to their bosses in time for the print deadline that night.

Arthur, however, stood frozen to the spot, glaring into his camera. The picture he had was worth more than he could imagine. 

                                                                                               * * *

2 months later.

Sun Newspaper Offices, London.

A letter landed on Arthur’s desk. He recognised the monogram instantly. He opened it and began to read…

“Dear Mr. Edwards,

Their Royal Highnesses, the Duke and Duchess of Cambridge kindly request a digital copy of your photograph, as featured on the front cover of the Sun Newspaper, dated July 12th 2013, for their personal collection. 

Please attach an invoice for payment.

…”

He wasted no time in putting the picture, as well as several others on a photo card, and writing a note to go with it.

“Dear Your Royal Highnesses,

Please accept the attached photographs as a gift from the Edwards family, on the occasion of the birth of your son.

Arthur Edwards”

 Before sealing the envelope, he pulled the note out once again and added a post script to the end.

“P.S. It may interest the duke to learn my granddaughter begins university this week.

At St. Andrews.”

[dailydaydreamings]

The Best in the Worst Way, Part 5

The Reader has been having a love affair with two Avengers and gets caught in a sticky situation. She’s suddenly faced with life decisions she’s not prepared for, including who to love, what she wants, and is this all worth it?

I felt like this took forever to write, even though I had it all planned out in my head. Please enjoy, K

“Again?” You sigh, as you slowly come to in the med bay.

“Again,” Bruce confirms, looking down at you over his glasses.

“You and the babies are okay, though, doll,” Bucky murmurs to your left. You turn your head to see him smiling down at you gently. His face was a complete bloody mess!

“What the hell happened to you?” You manage.

He pressed his lips together, suddenly looking very guilty.

“Oh what did you do?” You snapped.

“We’re not going to worry about that right now,” Bucky pulled away and you grasped his hand with a death grip. Glaring.

He’d been with Steve. If he looked like this, what did Steve look like?

Fucking hell how did it comes to this?

“This conversation is not over,” You snapped. You turned to Bruce, “Why does this keep happening?”

He shrugged, “Low blood sugar and iron deficiency, as far as I can tell.”

You blink, “that’s it?”

“That’s still very serious,” Tony said from the doorway, arms crossed.

You winced slightly, “How’s Peter?” The poor kid was probably a nervous wreck.

Tony leaned against the frame, “He’s fine, but we’re talking about you. You’re so not coming back to work.”

You sit up, “No, no, no. I’m fine, what do I have to do? Eat more? Take some supplements?”

Bruce glared at you, “Barnes, how many calories do you eat a day?”

You frown, looking over at your lover, who somehow said, “About eight thousand calories.”

Your eyes go wide, “Eight thousand?!”

You knew he ate a lot but eight thousand?

“All I’m saying is that you need to be eating more,” Bruce turned back to you.

“I’m fine with that!” You said, trying to quell a little bit of panic inside of you, turning to Bucky “But to clarify, did you just say eight thousand calories? Like in a day?”

“You don’t need to eat eight thousand calories,” Bruce said, “just more.”

You frowned back at him, “I didn’t think so, but I’m thinking about when these kids are born and they’re eating eight thousand calories. How much does Steve eat?”

“You’re fucking Steve too?” Tony barked from the door.

“Not the point!” You roll your eyes, “I’m seriously concerned about raising two teenagers eating eight thousand calories a day.”

“Really?” Bucky asked.

You throw your hands in the air, “How is this not a concern?!”

Bruce sighed, “We need to get back on track here. If you can get yourself under control, there’s no medical reason you can’t work.”

“See?” You point at Tony.

He just shrugged, “You’re working less hours.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, you typically worked a sixty hour week. Forty was less.

Bucky looked between the two of you, “Are you joking? You’re clearly not fine.”

You give him a death stare and he levels it. “I’m going back to work.”

He grinds his teeth, “This conversation isn’t over.”

You blink back in surprise. He couldn’t possibly, seriously be limiting your work because you were pregnant, was he?

You shake your head in response. The fucker, it was your body and if he wanted you to be sane, he’d want you to work.

“You’ll be meeting with the specialist next week,” Bruce says, “She’ll be able to give you a better run down of everything and give better recommendations because, and I’ll say it again, I’m not an expert.”

“So should we be waiting to meet with her to let y/n go back to work?” Bucky asked.

You sent him another death glare. What did he want, to keep you locked in a tower, barefoot and pregnant until after you gave birth? What was going to happen after you had the babies?

“How about this,” Tony steped forward, also giving Bucky a deadly side eye, “y/n comes back to work for half days until she meets with the specialist. And no weekends,” he sends a pointed eye at you, “Then, we reassess. Closer to your due date, we scale back responsibility and you train someone to take over for you during maternity leave, which you are taking.”

Which was a given, but still ground your gears a bit. Someone else doing your job, peeing all over your territory, the audacity.

“I guess that works,” Bucky said, which only made you grind your teeth a little harder.

“Perfect,” Tony clapped his hands together. “Y/n, there’s someone in the hall waiting to see you. I’ll go get them.”

As Tony made his exit, you looked up at Bucky, who in turn levelled your glare.

“I think I’ll go wait in the hall,” he said, before you could start a fight.

“Good call,” you snapped.

He stared for another moment, more hurt than angry before going into the hall. You rolled your eyes, leaning back in the gurney. How dare he be hurt? He was the one trying to limit your work.

“Um, Ms y/l/n?” A timid voice came from the doorway. “I just wanted to make sure you’re okay?”

All hope that it could have been Steve melted away. You opened your eyes and smiled softly at Peter. He was the sweetest kid in the world, how could you stay mad? “Of course, come in.”

————

“Let me take an educated guess,” Sam said, coming up to Bucky, who stood arms folded over his chest down the hall from the room y/n was in. “Your little spat with Rogers has something to do with her.”

Bucky reaches up, feeling the cut on his forehead from where Steve had clocked him. “It has everything to do with her,” he admitted.

Sam nodded, folding his own arms and leaning against the wall beside Bucky. “Is she okay?”

Bucky sighed, he really hoped so. “I think so, she’s not feeling good these days.”

Sam nodded again solemnly, before turning to Bucky. “She’s pregnant, right?”

Bucky nodded. There really was no use denying it. You had told him no one could know until 12 weeks, but he wasn’t a liar.

“You were both sleeping with her?” He asked.

“Yeah.”

“You don’t know who the father is?”

“Nope.”

“That’s why Steve’s mad?”

“No,” Bucky leaned further into the wall until he slid down to the floor. “Steve doesn’t want to be a father. And so he walked away from her...from us.”

It took everything to look up at Sam to make sure he got the meaning of his words. For months he wanted to tell someone about their relationship, but he’d always been sworn to secrecy.

Sam’s eyebrows rose to his hairline. He seemed frozen in thought, which made Bucky’s brain go into hyperdrive with worry, before saying, “Okay, the three of you were together?”

“Yeah.”

“Like a couple but with the three of you?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, cool, I guess.”

Bucky laughed slightly as Sam sat down on the ground beside him.

“So how did this happen?”

Bucky laughed, “I have honestly no idea.”

————

Two years ago

“Who is that?” Steve asked.

Bucky’s eyes widened as he realized he’d been caught staring at the pretty girl Tony was giving a tour to.

“Someone Tony hired, I guess. That meeting tonight, were supposed to meet her,” Bucky said, watching you smile and laugh at something Tony said.

“Nice, nice,” Steve said, also equally transfixed. “So she’ll be around a lot?”

“I hope so,” Bucky admitted.

“You should ask her out,” Steve said.

Bucky froze. He could tell Steve was equally smitten with you and blurted our, “No, you should, she’d much rather go out with Captain America anyways.” And cursed himself immediately, he selfishly wanted you to himself.

“No, I couldn’t do that to you,” Steve said. “This is the first time I’ve seen you mooning over a girl since the forties.”

Bucky sighed, there was no way you’d be into him.

“Quick,” Steve hissed. “She’s coming over, act natural.”

Bucky tried his best to look normal as you walked over, and smiled effortlessly at the two of them, and said, “Hey.”

Bucky almost swooned right then and there as you continued you tour with Tony. He watched you leave with a longing to follow.

“Did you just get a text from Tony?” Steve asked.

Bucky pulled out his phone, and nodded as he checked the message.

It simply said, SHE’S OFF LIMITS.

That put an end to the conversation about asking her out for a while. But neither of them realized how much you had been mooning over both of them. From the moment you saw them, both staring at you. Two super soldiers, outwardly staring like you were the only thing in the world that mattered, you were just as smitten.

————

“If you touch me, I will rip that stupid metal arm off of you,” you snapped.

“You’re not to exactly walking in a straight line, sweetheart,” Bucky snapped right back, holding his hands up defensively.

You pressed your hand against the wall for a moment to regain your balance, before slamming your fist against it.

“Goddammit!” You shouted, as tears started to leak out the corners of your eyes.

“Y/n?” He asked tentatively.

You weren’t sure what finally caused it, but you were definitely having a complete break down in the middle of the Avengers compound.

No one seemed to be around, you pride was saved for now, but you braced an arm against the wall as a sob wrecked your body.

“Y/n?” He reached for you, gently—

“I said don’t fucking touch me!” You screamed, slapping him away. You walked a few passes away, your vision going red before you turned around, storming back, and saying, “How dare you? We aren’t living in the 40s, James. You can’t just limit me because I’m pregnant.”

He blinked at you, a sobbing mess sand asked, “Is this seriously what you’re upset about?”

You punched his chest, and he took it. “Of course not!” You turned back around, walking away as fast as you could and maintaining your wobbly balance.

“Then what?!” He yelled, following behind at an acceptable distance.

“Steve!” You shouted, spinning around to motion to his mess of a face. He’d clearly been hit a couple of times. “What the fuck did you do?”

Bucky took a step back, and said in a low voice, “I tried to make him see reason and he didn’t. I reacted, I’m sorry. Trust me, he looks much better than I do.”

You pressed a hand to your chest, a hollow feeling setting in. You felt like a piece of you was gone.

“I wanted to be the one to talk to him,” you rasped was another sob shook your body. “I trusted you to get him back.”

“I tried,” Bucky’s voice broke. You looked up to see tears streaming down his face. He looked so completely hurt and broken, you felt your heart breaking all over again. “You weren’t the only one he left, you know.”

Another sob bubbled over as you reached for him, pulling him into your chest and you both sobbed.

You weren’t the only one, because it had always been the three of you and know it was two. You had to stick together because it wasn’t Bucky’s fault, or even yours, that Steve left.

He’d made his choice, and you prayed he would change his mind.

————

One year ago

One year of working for Tony Stark and the Avengers, one year of innocent-ish flirting with Steve and Bucky.

That’s all it was, flirting. Quick quips and compliments in passing. Occasional close taking almost leading to kissing, almost. Dirty innuendo dropped as often as possible. Plans that never came to fruition.

You weren’t sure who you liked more, they were both equally delicious. They were friends, which complicated the matter because you knew they were both interested in you.

One year and you were sick and tired of tiptoeing around them. You stood in front of your wall-length mirror in a seriously scandalous dress, ready to take one of them home tonight. Even if it was just sex.

You smiled to yourself, grabbing your matching black clutch as you walked out of your apartment. Tony had sent a car, which made you feel like a movie star as you sat down. A true dream.

The Avengers annual gala, to raise money for areas affected by conflict and gain some positive press. You’d been too new to attend last year, but you had still been to many of Tony’s parties. This would be amazing no doubt.

It really did end up delivering. The compound was lit in only colourful lanterns, giving it a romantic, mystery vibe. Live music played low and slow and you were instantly handed champagne.

Although this was technically a work event, you wanted to still have some fun. You could mingle while you got trashed, and then you’d switch to the boys. You still hadn’t decided which one was coming home with you.

Your plan was executed almost to a T. You networked until you couldn’t anymore and you went to find the boys. You didn’t remember if you went to look for one or both, but you still found them together.

You remembered someone handing you another drink, and then another. There was definitely some flirting. You think you might have outwardly asked them, which one were you sleeping with tonight.

A bold question for sure. Drunk you was daringly aspirational, but also shameless and naive. She’d gotten you into a lot of tough and embarrassing situations in the past that you had to piece together the next morning.

The last thing you could remember was leaving, both boys on either side of you, laughing.

You worke up the next morning with the worst headache. Groaning, you opened your eyes to be surprisingly met with a very well lit room. That was definitely not yours.

Suddenly much more alert, you looked around to piece together where you were. This definitely wasn’t the first time. The nightstand was impeccably organized and clean. After that, you were facing a window and you recognized the scenery. You were still on the Avengers compound.

So who’s room were you in?

You shifted slightly, wincing at the feeling inside of you. Yep, you definitely had sex last night. How big were they if you could still feel it? Or how late were you up?

The next thing you became aware of, there was an arm around you and someone’s morning wood pressed against your ass.

Moving as slowly as possible, you peaked over your shoulder to see Bucky. Breathing a sigh of relief, you settled back into the pillows. Bucky was good, you slept with Bucky, you thought triumphantly.

And then, a strange epiphany came over you. Bucky’s left arm was made of vibranium. Whoever’s arm was around you was definitely too short to be Bucky’s and was their left, and definitely not made out of vibranium.

Definitely not Bucky’s!

You shot up in bed to see Steve snuggled in behind Bucky, who was starting to stir.

Oh this could not end well!

————

“So,” Natasha said, “you wanna tell me about your little theeway?”

Steve glared at her from across the plane as he iced his face. Bucky has unfortunately managed to land a couple of really good hits.

“No.”

Natasha rolled her eyes and asked anyways, “How long has it been going on?”

He sighed, clenching his fist in frustration, “About a year.”

“What? No anniversary?” She cocked an eyebrow.

He rolled his eyes, “Not the typical relationship, is it?”

She laughed and shrugged, “I’m not one to judge. I’ve been in a couple threeways, for a short period of time, they can be fun.”

He nodded, letting his hand holding the ice drop, “It was just supposed to be fun. No drama, no labels, no expectations. It was fun, for a while.”

“Until one of you knocked her up?”

He shook his head, “I don’t care who did it, I want no part. Bucky seems perfectly happy playing house.”

Natasha wrinkles her nose, “Does this reaction have anything to do with Peggy?”

He glared at her, it had everything to do with Peggy. After bringing back the stones, he went to her and she told him to leave. She’d moved on without him. She had a life, one he was ready for, and she told him to leave.

When he got back, he wanted nothing more than to hang up the shield forever, but he had to do something with his life, right?

He felt so done and tired, and hurt, that he tried to shut himself out from everyone else, but that didn’t last very long. The team dragged him out and he was on his way to mission after mission, just living till the next day.

That was until the three of you had started hanging out. It was good to have something easy, people he could let his walls fall for and depend on. The sex was great, he’d never laughed so hard in his life.

And he definitely didn’t want to complicate it.

Just as children most definitely would. He’d been ready for it, once, but only with a certain someone. And she’d told him to go back to his time.

Wherever the hell that was? Where, in time, did he belong?

He’d always thought with Peggy.

With you and Bucky, it wasn’t the same. It was so far from traditional that serious, relationship drama seemed so far out of the question.

Until you told him you were pregnant while hanging over a toilet seat.

He’d never felt so nauseous and full of panic in his life.

“You’d give up the happiness you found in them,” Natasha said, “because you couldn’t have it with her?”

Steve stared her down, “Do you have someone you would drop everything to be with? And because you can’t be with them, everything and everyone else seems pointless?”

She looked uncomfortable, shifting in her seat self consciously before saying, “At one point, I did. Let me tell you one thing, though, even if I can’t be with them, I wouldn’t throw away any chance at happiness because of it.”

Tags

@fading-mentality-bouquet @a--1--1--3 @broco8 @yougottalovefandoms @hailqueenconquer

[sugar-petals]

:: BTS As Your Vampire Boyfriends

warnings ⚠️ smut, blood mentions, fangs kink

♡ Includes places they gravitate towards and countries they lived in, with their current residence in italics. Imagined in a world where a vampire bite will not convert a human, but rather, where species coexist without interference.

↳ NOTE › fuck yeah, bangtan vamps! some bits are juicier, some fluffier, some funny, some heart-wrenching or romantic. you’re in for a surprise 🤓 enjoy!

⌈ Jimin ⌋ ➝ Urban Vampire. 20 years old. USA, Italy, Sweden. Dresses like your typical haute couture vanguard, complete with bow ties and fishnets. Always has the latest pop culture news from SNS to chat about. Majors in? You guessed it, fashion design. Frequents high-rise apartments of his talkative New Yorker friends, wears huge square shades to fend off sunlight whenever he can. But also just because. The new boutique around the corner? Jimin was the first one to buy that 307$ gleaming Versace choker when it opened. In gold. He might have gotten the $520 guilty pleasure loafers as well. Yes, he does own more shoes than you do. 90 pairs to be exact, it needs a separate closet. He will try on several a night even when you don’t go out and just kiss watching a movie. What on earth is the reason behind all that? It’s to look good for your human eyes only. After all, he can’t see himself in the mirror. If he’s bound to outlive you by fate, he says, at least you’ll get to see him at his very best for the time being. He condenses several of his future lives into the limited one with you. A dazzling outfit can be that diversion and solace. Changing it often makes him feel like living faster, even if he’s headed for immortality. You decided to get a couple wrist tattoo on that last September. Carpe Diem, seize the day.

So there’s a lot to do together. Bucket list after bucket list. But there’s still a routine. Jimin loves destroying his friends at Friday night bowling yet can’t help but let you win every time. No matter how much you provoke him, the guy will aim at the gutters. You actually met at bowling back then. Eleven months ago, at your bff’s b-day party where he was introduced to you as Park, inofficial Prince of Manhattan with a love for sweet blood, orgies, and fiery ladies. The orgies part turned out to be a rumor, but he does say you have sweet blood. Even if it’s bad etiquette among vampires and he knows how much of a vice it is, Jimin loves to subtly show off in front of werewolves and witchers with popular ig accounts about how affluent his vampire family is at underground runway shows. Or sometimes, even fancy dinners where he orders dish after dish for the two of you. His friends suspect it’s all to compensate for how small his canines are since Jimin dearly wishes they were pointier. You’ve assured him that it’s not just better for your neck but also oral sex in general. He’s devilishly good at that. A born lover. Small canines are cute and fashionable anyways, all other talk is bogus. Having a vampire boyfriend remains a special feat and wild ride. But it’s definitely worth it.

⌈ Yoongi ⌋ ➝ Metro Vampire. 27 years old. Japan, Nigeria, South Korea. Dressed in all black, hoodies and stretchy jeans galore. Studied dental sciences in Lagos and has quite some polished teeth himself, but hardly puts them to use nowadays because he’s been getting more Zen about it. Instead, he can’t live without the internet. It distracts him from any urges and thinking about the future, and teaches his inquisitive mind about everything he needs to know about navigating the wide human world beyond the subway. He travels from station to station in Sapporo with a ticket for eternity and the security of less sunlight, always in search for the best Wi-Fi to text you. Even after two years of dating, Yoongi is still fangs over heels in love. And, needless to say, fascinated by the antics of humankind. When you are preoccupied with work at a restaurant in the afternoon, he jobs as a casual broker with contacts to the griffin elites that run the financial market of mystical creatures. 

He frequently jokes that metro vampires are in fact metrosexual. Sometimes visits casinos to kill some time and watch people out of curiosity. His magical ability has caused several power downs in nearby flat complexes — strangely, never the one he is in — but its purpose and origin remain unknown. He’s consulted a supposedly wise street demon about it once but only got a long burp as an answer. Rude. So he travels on and on with the tube. He’s not as much on the go as it always seems, however. Yoongi spends a lot of his time gaming and lounging in your basement. Pretty much naked even if you don’t have sweaty sex at 3 AM. Although, when is it not 3 AM. You’ve developed a little late-night routine there. You bring him coffee, chat, make out, he buzzes you off with your favorite vibrator, you give him slow blowjobs that he records on his phone with shaky hands. Sometimes, with rimming involved, and more action later that night. Yoongi needs to eat pussy to stay on track, otherwise, he falls apart. He’s longing to kiss your breasts all the time and you hold hands when it gets steamy. No biting, he controls himself since he took too much one time. Because he hates planes, Yoongi once crossed the Atlantic in a cargo ship’s high cube not having blood for weeks. After compelling him to suck your whole body off cause dammit I’ve missed your lips, too, vamp guy, you were iron deficient for a month. Yoongi, forever apologetic, has made it a habit to buy you vitamin juice ever since, and orders his blood online.

⌈ Jungkook ⌋ ➝ Forest Vampire. 261 years old. Canada, Bolivia, Ukraine. Dressed in a large flaxen coat and heavy boots. Owns a distant log cabin between scenic, dense firs in the Rocky Mountains. Where most of his day is all about chopping and stacking firewood to take his laser focus off blood cravings and not so random boners. He daydreams of you moaning in just about every hot position possible. Sometimes pleasuring yourself or grinding on his cock. And your fucking scent. It’s what really makes him hard. And tremendously flustered. He could be 261 million years old, it would still catch him off guard to suddenly remember the smell of your sweat and hair. The first time experiencing it, Jungkook shortly blacked out and salivated on the ground for 15 minutes. Human pheromones are just about every forest vampire’s favorite addiction. Out of all BTS members, he is the most sensitive to light or artificial noise and instinct-reliant, so he tries to be cautious. Regardless, always hoping that you fill his mind with your red-hot image. This guy is so whipped — at this point, he can sell a portion of the wood he chops daily and still heat the oven for weeks with the rest.

Nature has everything he desires. Silence, vastness. It’s peaceful. A lot of animals roam the area. It calms his fantasies to some degree. He’s spent many decades in the Amazon rainforest, it’s no surprise. He likes to watch deer and talks to the occasional satyr past midnight. Doesn’t own a lot of money, but knows how to prepare a hearty meal for you when you visit him. That’s what makes JK feel like a million dollars. And once the plate is empty: Time for carnal sex. He can fuck for two hours, one even on a bad day. When he drinks from you, the sheer neck stimulation through sucks alone can make you approach orgasm. With a little help from his fingers on your clit, boy is he gonna blow your mind. This shit will teleport you into alien dimensions. He won’t aim for anything less. Whatever his saliva does, it infuses you with serotonin for two, three days after, and your friends back home know with one glance: Cabin guy did it again. You’ll both be lightheaded and covered in hickeys by the end of your encounters if the weather is particularly indoorsy and you don’t go fishing. He wishes he’d never have to come to a city because of the bustling streets and lack of forest fairies that soothe his mind. But sometimes, buying new clothes is due. You go to a comparatively manageable shopping mall after rush hour where you can’t keep your hands off each other in the dressing rooms. Life with JK won’t ever bore you, that’s guaranteed. The cherry on top: He wields an unregistered type of magic that can manipulate all kinds of water streams — he’s created a little creak beside his cabin and named it after you.  

⌈ Seokjin ⌋ ➝ Cottage Vampire. 311 years old. Switzerland, Morocco, and Mongolia. Dresses all cozy with big sweaters and trench coats. Jin sells self-grown fruit and vegetables at the market downtown on Saturdays and Sundays. With vivid gestures and plenty of small talk topics up his sleeve, he befriends just about any stranger with two minutes spare time to talk about cheese, chocolate, and the notoriously high prices. Jin is among the most popular stall owners because of the many discounts he grants literally anybody. The Swiss way of very neat, organized, and especially neutral living appeals to Jin who has seen far too many messy wars go down since he was turned into a vampire. You didn’t believe it at first: By a British royal named Hamish back in 1708, inheriting him a magical ability to learn languages particularly fast so his Swiss German is perfected to a T. Jin is an utmost textbook rural sweetheart of the village. He takes care of the cottage with you like clockwork. Watering the herbs, painting walls here and there, cleaning the kitchen, always saying hi to the neighbors. Drinking tea on the terrace, with some cheesecake and cream on the fork, watching the cornfields sway in the wind is the good life. Simple, but meaningful.

There are a lot of lively and busy little blackbirds around the house joining you to pick up some crumbs, and Jin turns on the radio to play old-fashioned folk music of whatever Alp orchestra was recorded thirty years ago. The cake is gone all too soon, and the sun sets. You’re happy. Jin is a loyal and moral vampire who has adopted a vegetarian diet ten years ago and didn’t look back once. No cheating! Even if the market sells a lot of tasty ham and sausages. He’s sworn off that. After 311 years, even vampires start to think about their diet. A lot of fellow vamps in the area think he’s one strange guy, but Jin won’t bother. He gets all of his blood from a nearby hospital for a hefty price because he doesn’t want to drink from you all the time no matter how much you ask him. Sex is a better pastime. Chocolate lover Kim got a big dick and decades worth of time developing how to use it. Jin, when he does nibble at you, also has a very pleasant bite that doesn’t leave marks or just about any kind of bruise. He doesn’t want to tell you his secret because apparently, an old and rather nit-picky basilisk told him. Somewhere in a dusty attic of a Marrakesh craft store selling lamps and the most splendid of perfumes, 170 years ago. If he spills the beans, the special trick is dissolved. So... hush. Some things are better left top secret when it comes to basilisk magic.

⌈ Taehyung ⌋ ➝ Museum Vampire. 750 years old. Paris, London, and Sydney. Always dons crisp vintage tuxedos in the muted, heavily tailored style of the 1920s. He’s gotten attached to that era. Unsurprisingly, museum vampires are truly nostalgic creatures. Perhaps, also a bit melancholic at one point. Immortality is a two-edged sword. So, Taehyung clings to everything that endures the times. Statues, rustic vases, coin collections, preserved tunics, temple relics, especially fossils of all kind. His favorite place to roam at night is the museum shop or department for Greek, Etruscan, and Roman Antiquities. And indeed, it is the Louvre, what other museum could it be. Taehyung has mastered a convenient invisibility spell at the whooping age of 142 by chance after sneaking around the graveyard of Montmartre, trying to blend in with some friendly ghosts who taught him a trick or two. So the CCTV and guards don’t pick up on him unless he manipulates objects displayed in the exhibitions. 

Which he feels tempted to. But Taehyung prefers to meet you in a snug alley café at dawn. The one where they don’t serve garlic-heavy dishes. You’ve already seen so much of the museum together in the course of a 4-year relationship. And he can’t possibly dick you down in the gallery of Dutch and Italian masters no matter how horny either of you is, mind you. You’d get anemic fast if you’d be sucking and fucking all the time anyways, and Taehyung really isn’t down to take a lot of blood from you. A little, as you always call it, prick’n’lick is what he usually goes for when you have time to meet in your flat. And maybe a deep, warm creampie to top it off because he knows that his semen does some stuff to you that only vampire magic can cause. You’ll be giddy and talk complete nonsense about Dadaism, Kahlo, and Kandinsky for three hours. Pregnant you can’t get since human with human, vampire with vampire is how the math goes. But extremely high, apparently. So, prick’n’lick. Your favorite activity. Talk about oral fixation: Vampire Tae has a strong obsession with strawberry ice cream. And... caressing your body, seriously. He is into some major VDA (Vampiric Displays of Affection). Believes that in your past life, you were the grand dame Mona Lisa herself. And a flapper. He writes poems about that and keeps them in a huge diary in the cellar of the Louvre. Some bittersweet, some sensual, some full of adoration. You treasure your time with him, always. 

⌈ Hoseok ⌋ ➝ Castle Vampire. 1827 years old. UK (Scotland), Greece, China. Dresses exactly the way you think a dapper castle vamp is suited up. Ruffles, tight pants, gloves, large hats with feathers, tons of Italian lace, even slightly heeled shoes with pointed toes. Has been alive when Sparta was still a thing, saw what went down in the uproar of the actual French Revolution in passing, met Marilyn Monroe, almost got on the Titanic as a passenger, but has enjoyed the Rennaissance the most so far so there’s that. He lived in forts, churches, and even a small barn for some parts of his life until deciding to buy himself a fucking hilltop palace where you can live together. Because lavish castles are, ultimately, what appeals to Hoseok the most, and there is definitely enough space for all of your interests ... and sex toys. Anyway. How did all of that begin. So: The two of you met at a medieval exhibit in Perth where they displayed armors and pieces of weaving. Fell for each other, bonded over a kaleidoscope of shared interests, history knowledge in particular. Hoseok enjoys conversations about mythology, he loves that. And binging a lot of shows on Netflix. Gotta bridge the old and the new. Not that he doesn’t own a giant home theatre with perfect sound system. Maybe he just wants to cuddle up with you in bed and sob when another character dies together so the entire castle staff will hear. No worries though, they’re used to it.

Netflix aside: Aristocracy makes him feel at home. The sunshine regularly hosts interspecies balls with flamboyant masquerade themes so everyone can show up how they’re comfortable. That concerns particularly the slightly introverted elves and shapeshifters from downtown. The last huge ball went under the motto ‘The Glamor of Old Hollywood’ and you dressed up as Rita Hayworth and Fred Astaire, dancing all night and plundering the buffet. Hell of a good time. National holidays are holy to vampire Hoseok and basically equal date night. Given his high sex drive, there can’t be enough special occasions either way. To ride his thighs, his face, mark each other down forever until the pants are a little too tight at the damn front. The guy gets shaky knees at the smallest sight of a delicious pulsing vein no matter his century-long chance to accustom himself with human necks, so you agreed to go by a schedule — #SuckingSaturdays only — and you wear thick scarves. Which fits the moody UK weather anyways. The Scots really dig Hoseok in case you’ve been wondering. You can bet Hoseok is the star of Scottish twitter. 

⌈ Namjoon ⌋ ➝ Mountain Vampire. 3008 years old. Nepal, Kenya, Peru. You tease him about wearing a long, strangely-always-white cloak and staff because it gives him the semblance of a beardless twen Gandalf. He smokes a pipe, too, but not in your presence anyways. Whatever is in there... seems to elevate him. Literally. Namjoon can levitate. There’s no other way he could use in order to visit you in the first place. A beautiful, abandoned pagoda seated on top of a snowy crest is his makeshift home, inaccessible to everyone but him. Only a secluded place like this is suitable for his ancient kind. To meet you in a warmer and more human-friendly environment, he will elegantly descend from his premises to get together with you in the town located at the base of the mountain. As many nights as possible. Always with a self-made present. Like freshly assembled tea leaves or a little talisman he carved from a piece of wood. Found on one of his long evening walks. He knows what eternity feels like best, that your life is but a glimpse compared to his, so every moment will count. He’ll make it right, no worries. It’s Kim Namjoon, taking care of things. You can always rely on him.

On all levels, he never ceases to surprise. Vampire Joon has surpassed the principles of ingestion, sleep, and a sense of temperature. Hell, even finances. He simply breathes and exists — and most importantly: reads for hours — without any external efforts. Even the Middle Ages didn’t leave a single wrinkle on his face. And he is still the best experienced person to share a bed with. No sexual technique is foreign to him, and post-sex spooning conversations are immensely entertaining. Namjoon has a lot of philosophical thoughts on human-vampire relations and met countless historical figures. He’s also befriended the Yeti at one point, resulting in quite a few hilarious narrations that he will retell on request every time you meet. And he makes them funnier every night. Because Namjoon thinks your laugh is prettier than every sunrise and sunset he’s seen around the world combined, on his every voyage. The most interesting part is: He doesn’t drink any blood even if he has fairly sharp fangs that you often catch yourself staring at for minutes. He still seems more invested in making you cum. With sweet words, brainteasers, and wisdoms spoken into your ears quietly. He’s a walking riddle himself. As expected, who are we kidding. Namjoon, no matter the fleeting centuries he has seen, is a gem and all yours for a lot of nights to come. 

◇ castle: Château de la Mothe-Chandeniers (South-East France, 13th century)

[heartofether]

Episode 10 - Child TRANSCRIPT

[You can listen to the show wherever you get your podcasts, or go to our “Listen” page if you’re on desktop.] 

AUTOMATED VOICE

Please state your message.

[THEME MUSIC AND INTRODUCTION PLAYS.]

VAL

Three-Eyed Frog Presents: The Heart of Ether.

[THEME CONTINUES BEFORE COMING TO A STOP.]

[PHONE BEEP.]

[INT. IRENE’S BEDROOM.]

IRENE

You’re not gonna believe this: I saw the meat lady at the grocery store again last night, and she was buying more raw meat. She was buying some other stuff this time too, like, normal groceries, but still a lot of meat. I didn’t want to bother her or make her feel bad or anything, but, I had to know. Why did she need that much meat?

She was in front of me in line, but luckily, I didn’t have much to buy. Just some chickpeas and coconut milk. I checked out as quickly as possible—the poor cashier looked like he got whiplash from how fast I swiped my card—and I ran out to the parking lot to meet her.

She had just finished loading her groceries into her car, but thankfully, she hadn’t left yet. She looked surprised when I ran up to her, but not afraid. She had this warm smile on her face, which eased my nerves, surprisingly. She asked if I needed anything.

[EMBARASSED] I probably should have introduced myself or said hello—that would have been the polite thing to do. All I said, though, was, “Why do you need that much meat?”

She didn’t get angry or upset. Somehow, she didn’t seem fazed at all. Maybe she had gotten the question before? That wouldn’t surprise me. She still had a small smile on her face when she answered, “It’s for my child.”

I was kind of surprised for some reason? I asked if she had multiple kids, and she said no, just the one.

“They’re on summer break,” she said, “and they start their junior year of high school next year. Isn’t that exciting? I remember being that age. Anyways, being a teenager and all, they’re growing a lot, so I have to make sure they’re well fed. Wouldn’t you want the best for your child?”

[STIFLED] I got kind of weirded out by that. I asked if they were getting fruits and vegetables, because those were all important, too. She said, “Well, protein is especially important for a growing teenager. Besides, they have special dietary needs.”

And there was that phrase again! “Special dietary needs!” I asked what exactly that meant, a, an iron deficiency, some sort of issue with their muscles. She looked at me with this—God, this almost tender look, as if she was my mother and I had just disappointed her.

She said, “I don’t want to speak for them. They get very embarrassed talking about it. I promise the meat won’t go to waste, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

[UNCOMFORTABLY] I apologized after that. She smiled wider, and said it was okay. Before I left, she gave me a mint from her bag. Even though I did nothing to deserve it but invade her and her kid’s privacy.

So, I guess that’s the end of the mystery of the meat lady? I still don’t know why she feeds her kid that much meat, but no way am I asking her again. Actually, after that experience, I kind of hope that’s the last time I see her.

[A PAUSE.]

IRENE

I should probably get ready. I just…I have a lot on my mind. Yeah.

[PHONE BEEP.]

[RECORDING ENDS.]

[ANOTHER PHONE BEEP.]

[INT. IRENE’S CAR AS SHE’S DRIVING.]

[SHE IS HEARD DRIVING IN THE BACKGROUND.]

IRENE

The landlord is sending a mold inspector to my house today. He said he’ll call me and let me know as soon as possible what he thinks the best course of action is. I might have to spend a night in a motel room or something, but honestly, it will be well worth it to finally be rid of that yellow mold. 

Also, I stopped by the library last night to look for any evidence about the Lorelei thing, or, that entire coven that went missing. Sure enough, there were articles about it in the local paper while it was happening, but I’m surprised it didn’t make national news. It definitely happened—I could even find the missing persons reports online—but hardly anyone outside of town covered it, let alone anywhere outside of Washington.

Some online conspiracy forums have talked about it, but no one ever came to a solid conclusion as to what happened. 

[A FORCED CHUCKLE.] Didn’t realize how close to home the whole situation hit until I started researching it.

[A PAUSE.]

IRENE

[SINCERE] I hope you didn’t get kidnapped, Rose—or, killed by some weird cult, or whatever. Though, for a while, can I be honest? That possibility actually kind of made me feel better.

[SADDER, MORE DISTANT] I mean, the alternative is that you chose to leave. For a while, I thought that if I could just pretend it wasn’t your fault, then that meant you kept your promise. [QUIETER] To not leave without telling me.

[A BEAT, THEN, A SHAKY BREATH.] I’ve thought about it since then, though, and I think you probably did choose to. That was what you wanted, right? You wanted the spontaneity, the excitement, the leap of faith, whatever. I wouldn’t be surprised if one night, you just decided you were tired of waiting, and left.

Doesn’t make it hurt any less, though. Knowing that we had plans to leave together, and you just decided it would be better to go without me. No warning, no big talk, not even a letter.

I’m not angry anymore, don’t worry. I’m so indecisive all the time, I probably would have dragged you down.

[STRAINED] Still.

[a long pause.]

IRENE

Why do I still tell stories to you like this is a conversation? [SHE SCOFFS.] You don’t care, you—

[SHE TAKES A SHAKY BREATH BEFORE ENDING THE RECORDING.]

[PHONE BEEP.]

[RECORDING ENDS.]

[ANOTHER PHONE BEEP.]

[INT. IRENE’S OFFICE.]

IRENE

I’m about to go on my lunch break. [SUSPICOUS] Haven’t heard from the mold inspector, which is odd.

Look, I just wanted to talk because…I’ve been thinking a lot. Especially after looking through the newspaper reports for the coven incident. I think—I think whatever’s happening, it’s the whole town. That’s gotta be it, right?

Okay, I know it’s absolutely wild. I’m not saying that this is like, one of those mysterious little towns with some big supernatural secret that the whole town is hiding.

[A BEAT.] But that’s basically what I’m saying. Why else wouldn’t this place show up on a map? And, also, why else would an entire group of people go missing without hardly any news coverage?

[RAMBLING] It’s like there’s some big thing—and I’m not sure if everyone in town knows about it, or just a select few—but it’s like some big secret that everyone just knows not to talk about. Only, maybe, people don’t actually know the secret? Because Phoebe, who should know everything because of her grandmother, still knows close to nil. 

Maybe—okay, maybe it’s not a secret that the townsfolk are keeping, but like, the actual town is keeping this secret from not only its own citizens, but the world. It’s like, some big thing is happening and nobody actually knows what it is. They just know it’s there.

[A PAUSE.]

IRENE

I have no idea what the fuck that means or why I said that.

[THERE’S A KNOCK AT HER DOOR.]

CAROL

[MUFFLED] Irene?

IRENE

[SURPRISED] Mm—Yeah?

CAROL

Can I come in?

IRENE

Um, sure.

[THE DOOR OPENS. CAROL STEPS INSIDE THE OFFICE.]

IRENE

What’s up?

CAROL

[NOW CLEAR] I, uh… How are you doin’?

IRENE

[CAUTIOUSLY] I’m...fine? How about you?

CAROL

Ah, I’m alright—say, uh, not to infringe on your privacy or anything like that, but I wanted to ask you about somethin’.

IRENE

[SLOWLY] Go ahead.

CAROL

[WARILY] So, I was talkin’ to Aden the other day in the breakroom, and he mentioned to me that you’ve been having this...issue. Somethin’ about a huh...jeez, how did he put it, eldritch dirt abomination?

IRENE

[DREADFUL] Oh, god, did he tell you about the dirt thing—?

CAROL

[OVERLAPPING] I’m worried ‘bout you, Irene. Alright? There, I said it.

IRENE

[SHE SCOFFS.] What, is this an, an intervention? I’m fine.

CAROL

[CONCERNED] You’ve been acting strange since...well, ever since the day we met, I reckon. Er, no offense. 

[A BEAT.] Still, first it was these recordings you do, talkin’ to someone who you say is never gonna listen. Now you’re trying to hunt down some sort of mystical forest monster that nobody else has ever seen.

IRENE

[DEFENSIVE] That’s not true. Alright, Dorothy Wood had a notebook—

CAROL

You mean the woman who used to run the bookstore? Bless her heart, but, nobody ever knew what she was doing in her private time. Not even her poor granddaughter.

IRENE

That’s what we’re trying to figure out.

CAROL

I just—I don’t want you to get involved with somethin’ you can’t turn back from. Alright? I, I don’t ever want to see you or Aden put yourselves in danger, and all this stuff you’ve been doin’ is just…

IRENE

[A BEAT.] Just what?

CAROL

Just, well, you know.

IRENE

[GROWING GRADUALLY MORE UPSET] No, I don’t. Say it. Do you think I’m being delusional? I know what I saw was real—

CAROL

[OVERLAPPING] I never said that, Irene. I just want to make sure you’re doing okay.

IRENE

I am. Okay? Everything’s just peachy. I’m doing my job just fine, aren’t I? That should be your primary concern, not whatever I do when I get home each night.

CAROL

[SHE SIGHS.] No, you’re right, you’re right. I’m sorry for bein’ so invasive.

IRENE

[A BEAT.] It’s alright.

CAROL

Just let me know if you ever need anything, alright? I care about you, not just as an employee.

IRENE

[STRAINED] Appreciate it.

[A PAUSE.]

CAROL

Say, you headin’ to lunch soon?

IRENE

Uh, yup, I was thinking about going out to grab something. Do you—?

[THERE’S FOOTSTEPS IN THE BACKGROUND AS ADEN WALKS BY.]

ADEN

[CUTTING HER OFF] Irene, have you downloaded it yet?

IRENE

[SHE GIVES AN OVEREXAGGERATED SIGH.] Not yet.

[MORE FOOTSTEPS AS HE WALKS IN.]

ADEN

Do you still not have enough storage?

IRENE

I have the space, I just have better things to do.

And I’m not a total caveman, you know. [UNDER HER BREATH] had Tumblr back in high school for a bit.

ADEN

[HE LAUGHS, OVERLAPPING.] Tumblr? Are you joking? You were a Tumblr kid?

IRENE

For like, three months! I was fifteen, dude, give me a break.

CAROL

[SHE CHUCKLES.] Anyways, I was just wondering if y’all wanted me to grab somethin’ for you while I’m out? I’ll take a list, if you want to start writing down your orders. I’ll probably go to the café nearby, if that’s alright with y’all.

ADEN

Oh, sure! That’d be great! Thank you! Irene, do you have some paper?

IRENE

Yup. Thanks, Carol!

CAROL

Not a problem.

[A PEN IS HEARD CLICKING, AND WRITING ON A PAD OF PAPER IS HEARD IN THE BACKGROUND.

ADEN

Actually, Irene, I was hoping to get to talk to you. Do you have any plans tonight? Because you still haven’t come over to my house yet, and I think it’s a crime I haven’t gotten to show you my collection of knitted cats yet.

IRENE

[TEASING] And I think it’s weird that you’re so passionate about showing off your collection of knitted cats.

ADEN

[DEFENSIVE] I worked really hard on them, okay?

IRENE

[SHE LAUGHS.] Mm, in all seriousness, maybe? I actually have a mold inspector over at my house today, and I might have to call him soon, because he still hasn’t...

[HER TONE BECOMES MORE SERIOUS.] …gotten back to me.

[A BRIEF, EERIE INSTRUMENTAL NOISE ECHOES IN THE BACKGROUND.]

IRENE

Why are you guys looking at me like that?

CAROL

[SHE CLEARS HER THROAT.] You said you had a mold inspector? 

[CAROL’S VOICE SOUNDS CALM, BUT THERE IS A GROWING PANIC UNDERNEATH.]

IRENE

[SLOWLY] Yes. This mold started growing in my house when I first moved in, and it kept getting worse, so I hired someone to take care of it.

CAROL

[HER BREATH HITCHES.] And what exactly does this mold look like?

IRENE

Um…it’s yellow?

[CAROL TAKES IN A SHARP INTAKE OF BREATH.]

IRENE

[CONT.] Like, puss yellow? Kind of smells like rotten meat?

CAROL

Alright. Irene, what’s most important right now is that you stay calm.

ADEN

[MUTTERING TO HIMSELF] This can’t be happening, this can not actually be happening.

IRENE

Okay, what’s going on? What are you guys not telling me?

CAROL

Look, I need to go grab something, but after that, I think we need to go to your house right now.

IRENE

Wait, what—?

CAROL

[OVERLAPPING] This next part is very important: have you touched it at all? The slightest touch—

[CREEPY, TENSE MUSIC BEGINS BUILDING IN THE BACKGROUND.]

CAROL

[CONT.] —even just your pinky toe?

IRENE

[GROWING FRUSTRATED] No, of course not! What the hell is happening? Aden?

ADEN

[PANICKING] Irene, I’m so sorry. I’ve never actually experienced this before, I—I don’t—oh, Jesus, oh, no.

CAROL

Aden, it’s okay. We’re gonna be okay.

ADEN

But she’s—

CAROL

[OVERLAPPING] It’s fine. You just stay on hold for us, okay? I’ll call you if anything happens.

IRENE

[SNAPPING] Okay, you know what? I’m getting really, really fed up with things happening and me never knowing what’s going on. That’s all I’ve gotten ever since I moved to this town. So, either one of you tells me what’s going on, or I’ll go home and find out myself.

CAROL

[PANICKED] You’re in some grave danger, Irene. That’s the best way I can describe it right now, ‘cause we don’t got time. Just, trust me. Please.

[A TENSE PAUSE.]

IRENE

Fine.

[THE MUSIC ENDS WITH THE CHIME OF A BELL.]

[THERE IS A PAUSE BEFORE AN AUDITORY GLITCHING NOISE PLAYS, WHICH IS FOLLOWED BY A FEW SECONDS OF CHOPPY STATIC. THERE IS A CLICK.]

UNKNOWN VOICE

—hoped the Foundation would have been a little more generous with their funds, but, also I’m not surprised they—

[THE SPEAKER IS CUT OFF BY ANOTHER AUDITORY GLITCH.]

[PHONE BEEP.]

[RECORDING ENDS.]

AUTOMATED VOICE

Today's quote is: “My soul is a black maelstrom, a great madness spinning about a vacuum, the swirling of a vast ocean around a hole in the void, and in the waters, more like whirlwinds than waters, float images of all I ever saw or heard in the world: houses, faces, books, boxes, snatches of music and fragments of voices, all caught up in a sinister, bottomless whirlpool.”

Fernando Pessoa, as published in The Book of Disquiet, 1982.

[OUTRO MUSIC AND CREDITS PLAY.]

[puzzledorange]

OC’s Answer 15 Q’s Tag

okey i know this took a while and there are so many more tag games that I need to do, but once I take over the world i will outlaw school so i can have time to do these, so please don’t hesitate to tag me in more stuff!

I was tagged by @thatsadwriter​ so thanks for that!

Okay so what I’m gonna do is that P (from the Metalrifter) is answering, but both Rigby and Olsen (from stories Friends & the Universe and Life in the Rivers respectively) are also they’re butting in whenever they want. They are in Violet’s apartment house being interviewed btw.

rules: answer fifteen questions as either yourself or your ocs, then tag fifteen people

————————

what is your full name?

“Oh that’s easy. P.”

“Are you serious? You’re the one with some weird-ass nickname and you decided to take this question?” Rigby says.

“Well I don’t have any other names, do I?” P snaps back. “What about your name huh? If mine’s so flawed.”

“I never thought you’d ask.” chuckles Rigby. He tilts his head to the side and combs his hair back. “Rigby Diggins here.” P chortles.

“What’s so funny to you?” Rigby hisses.

“No matter how many times I hear your last name, I laugh.” P responds. “It sounds like a cartoon character’s.”

“Enough.” Rigby says, “Alright Olsen, hit us with your full name.”

“Oh me?” Olsen says. “Well my full name is Olsen Maegan Rivers.”

“At least SOMEBODY has a normal name here.” P says.

“Wait weren’t you technically adopted by Violet though?” Olsen asks. “You guys are technically brother and sister or something right?”

P sighs. “Yeah, I guess.”

“So what is your real full name?”

“P Patterson.”

“I’m calling you Peepa from now on.” Rigby says.

“Please don’t.”

what is your gender? “I’m a guy.” P says.

“Are you sure about that, Peepa?” Rigby teases.

“I’m this close to whooping your ass into next week.”

what does your full name mean?

“Uh, I don’t know. It just is my name.” says P.

“Why did you answer the question if that was the answer you would give” asked Rigby.

“Fine then, its over to you.” says P.

“That’s what I’m talking about! Well my name is Rigby because of my free spirit. What can I say, I’m special!”

“Yeah, I don’t doubt that.” says P. “What about you Olsen?”

“Well I looked it up, and a website said that my name meant ‘descendant’. I guess that makes sense, since my ancestor founded my hometown.”

any nicknames or other names?

“My code name is Captain Orbit, or just Orbit.” says P. “That’s what they call me up in space.”

what is your sexuality?

“Huh, I’ve actually never really thought about what kind of people I like.” P says.

“You gotta be kidding me, you’re the most boring person ever.” Rigby says. “And by the way, I’m bi.”

“What does it mean to be bi?” P asks.

“You’re joking.”

P shakes his head.

“Oh, come on!” Rigby exclaims. “Even Olsen knows what that means! How are you this royally uneducated? I thought you were Violet’s brother, but it really is evident that you two are adopted siblings.”

“Hey!” Olsen snaps his fingers. “Calm down. Jesus, you’re always a lit fuse aren’t you?”

“Lit in more ways than one.” Rigby says with a sly smile. He looks at P thinking that he would get the joke, but his humor is that of a wet towel.

where are you from?

“I’m not really sure.” says P.

“EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOUR ANSWERS HAVE BEEN EXCEPTIONALLY SHITTY OH MY GOD I CANNOT HANDLE THIS ANY LONGER” says Rigby.

“Shut your goddamn mouth up.” P says, sending metal up to Rigby’s mouth to inhibit his speech. In response, he starts clawing at it.

Olsen raises his hand in anticipation. “Hey, can I go?”

“Sure go ahead.” P responds.

“Okay so,” Olsen starts. “I was born in Riveria, a small town in--”

Rigby rips off the metal restraining his mouth. “God, can’t a man have freedom of speech? I think you just single-handedly cured my iron deficiency. Anyways I know you guys don’t care, but I was born and raised in glamorous LA.”

“Can you just shut it and listen to Olsen?” P says.

“I knew you wouldn’t care. Hurts, man.”

“As Olsen was saying, he lives in Riveria, and…?” P says.

“Oh yeah! And my great great great great grandfather actually founded the town.” Olsen continues.

“Oh really? Do you want a medal?” Rigby says, reclining back in his chair.

when were you born?

“I WILL take this one, okay?” Rigby says.

“Fine.” says P.

“I was born June the 22nd, 1990. The greatest day on Earth.” Rigby says.

P scoffs.

“You guys can’t even say anything, because your author was negligent enough to not give you definitive birthdays yet!”

Olsen sighs. “Yeah, that’s a problem.”

whoops sorry

how old are you?

“I’m about twenty two I’d say,” says P.

“I’m twenty nine. Hah, beatcha.” Rigby says.

“I’m seventeen.” Olsen says.

where do you live?

“Oh, uh, here.” P says, pointing down at the ground.

Rigby mocks him. “Uh, oh, um, uh, here. Where is here dumbass?”

“Queens. New York.” P says in a stiff tone.

“Better. Now watch an interesting person take this question.” Rigby says. “Right now, I’m currently residing in space, specifically in the port of the Planet Happi.”

“P-Probably not so, uh, ‘Happi’ when you’re there!” Olsen calls out.

“Hey-o! High five!” P exclaims. The two share a hand slap. “So where do you live, Olsen?”

“Well I lived Riveria until I left to LA during my middle school years. I came back to my hometown about 2 years ago.”

P suppresses a laugh. “Sorry, I just can’t let that joke go.”

“It wasn’t even that funny.” Rigby says, crossing his arms.    

what are your quirks?

“What would constitute as a quirk?” Olsen asks.

“It’s what makes you weird and shit.” Rigby says. “P should go first, since this is literally the only question that can make him sound like a cool person.”

“I’d clock you, but I have to answer this question.” P says. “So, I Metalrift. What that essentially means is that I can control and manipulate metal with my mind. It’s super useful, but it took a grueling process to acquire. I have a few other friends that can rift other things, like Scott Walker. He can rift rock, and he’s damn good at it too.”

“I for one,” Rigby says, “Am competent at what I do without the help of magic, but with the help of a little bit of alchies. I shoot aliens and shit. Ain’t that right Peepa?” He smiles as he puts his hand on P’s shoulder. He shrugs Rigby’s hand off.

“What about you, Olsen?” Rigby asks.

“Well, I’m really good with a blade, a machete specifically. Still, my friend, Lisa, taught me how to properly fight. I have a signature backswing and everything.” Olsen says. “Also P I hope you  wouldn't mind metalrifting for us. I mean I've seen it in combat, but not really up close and personal. Could you?”

“Uh, sure, I don’t see why not,” P says, looking around the apartment for any loose metal lying around. “I don’t see any metal though.”

“Wait no, I got you.” Rigby says, pulling out a ray gun and a hammer from the inside of his coat.

“Perfect! I can just extract the metal from the g--”

Rigby starts to casually smash the gun, reducing it to metal bits and bobs. “There you go, rift away.” Rigby says.

P lifts the metal with his mind, and formulates a small elephant on the table using the bits and bobs. It walks around and spurts tiny pieces of metal out of its trunk.

“Oh sweet!” Olsen exclaims.

“Okay yeah, that’s pretty sick, I gotta admit.” says Rigby. “Hey, that rhymes!”

who are your family members? “Uh, next question.” Olsen says. who are your pets?

“I have a turtle, and he is the light of my life.” says Rigby.

“And what’s his name?” Olsen asks.

“Cadet. What a little man.” Rigby says.

“Why’s his name Cadet?” P asks.

“I’m glad you asked.” says Rigby. “I named him after my favorite wine, Mouton Cadet.”

“How original.” P dryly says.

what do you look like?

“Well, I have black hair and green eyes” says P. “Also, I wear a red flannel with a black shirt underneath, and topping it all off with my signature blue pants and black shoes.”

“Alright, my turn!” says Rigby. “So I dyed my hair blond, but my original hair color is brown. I have blue eyes and an amazing goatee. I’m wearing my space uniform right now, which is a blue collar necked coat-jacket that has a white stripe near the bottom, black pants strapped with a holster, black boots, and black gloves. Oh, also I’m a hell of a lot taller than P. Five foot ten ass…”

“How tall are you then?” asks P.

“Six foot three.” Rigby triumphantly says.

“What about you Olsen?”

“Alright,” Olsen says, “Well I have brown hair, a bit combed to the side, brown eyes, and freckles. I wear a red short sleeve with a gray long sleeve undershirt, along with blue jeans and regular sneakers. Oh, and I’m five foot ten too!”

“Shorties.” says Rigby.

who’s your hero?

“Definitely my uncle,” says Olsen. “He’s a real inspiration and always has great advice for me.”

“Both my friends Violet and Basil are amazing people and I wouldn’t be alive for them, so probably those two people.” says P.

“I really like the Hamburglar.” says Rigby. The others stare at him. “What? He really got me to buy more burgers, honest!”

what’s your moral alignment?

“Yo dude!” Rigby says. “I’m uhh,” He snaps his fingers, “Chaotic good.”

P chimes in, “I’m definitely lawful good.”

“And that leaves neutral good for me!” says Olsen. “Wait that’s the last question right?”  

“Yeah, and wow I’m so glad we’re done with this.” says P.

“Why?” asks Olsen.

“So I can do this.” P says, getting up from his seat and knocking Rigby’s lights out.

——————————————–

Cool, this was fun! I’ll be tagging @starlightinhumanform​, @ill-write-when-im-dead​, and @kaigods​, but don’t be obligated to do them. You’re an independent person!

[lifeareyouthere]

A Love Letter to Langley

This is not intended to aid child predators. This is the prattles of someone who over thinks and as too much free time. None of this is to taken seriously.

If there was one person who’s attention Yaniv did not want it was his own personal stalker. Am I calling Langley Resident a stalker? No. But in the twisted, and diseased minds of Yaniv and Mrs. Yaniv that’s exactly what they have. An ever present set of evil eyes with ears that record their “private” meltdowns to share with the world. A guilty conscious doesn't like to lose control of their own information. LR knows this and has taken upon themselves to take the bullshit they endure from these two neighbors and publish to makes sure the one thing a cockroach needs is taken from them. So since Yaniv is too busy lubing tampons to solve this little mystery I thought I’d Nancy Drew it myself.

Now I do not live in Canada. I’ve never visited Canada. I grew up thinking Canada was the hat of the states, so I have very little background to work with. I have google, some posts, and an over active mind. Yet somehow, I feel I could get closer to the facts than Yaniv who has dissolved into taking pictures of neighbors, harassing them and shouting, “Meow!” at everyone. A real Sherlock that one. 

Let’s start with looks. At this point it’s impossible to tell. Any photos that might be them are marked as being from other sources. However, Yaniv has some strong opinions about who’s worthy of sharing the same elevator with them and who’s not. Because of Yaniv’s very public racism we can assume LR is white. It’s the only appearance that Yaniv blocks out as part of the background. White is normal, nothing to take note of. If they had any kind of color they would be the source of Yaniv’s poor jokes, and would raise Yaniv’s suspicions.

Following that logic of Yaniv’s blindness we can assume they are older than what are “trans-activist” likes. LR’s first and only avatar is a perfect picture of  Edna Krabappel(more to follow about that), it’s a still from the show back when it was hand drawn, and by the off colors of it I’d place it sometime before season 7 of The Simpsons. This says that this person it older than 25, as younger than that would not be as interested in the character and the hand drawn look isn’t a turn off. Many of the younger set can’t stand the rough look and inconsistent colors. I’m willing to bet that the quality of the still didn’t even register when it was chosen because that’s what this person grew up with. They were more concerned with the emotion being conveyed. My bet is that this person is closer to 30 as they use early internet short hand, but still try to maintain proper writing structure on twitter. A battle many dismiss.  Is it possible that they are an older adult tired of a man-child’s tantrums? Yes. Nothing they’ve done shows any great skill with technology. Someone with a phone, and a dream. But science as proven the older you are, the less of a damn you give. Just look at Mrs. Yaniv, she’s forgone underwear for as long as I’ve known her. Even with the Yaniv’s violent outbursts I doubt an older person would have the patience for all this tip-toeing anon shit. (I long for the day an old stands up during one of those meetings and tells the Yaniv’s to shut up, and get out or they can find some where else to live.) There’s also my suspicion that LR works with a close group of friends on the internet.  The Meow Mix blog has shots of Yaniv bragging on twitter that he was able to get 2 numbers of LR’s cellphone number (great work, you win,). MM refers to them as “A gang” and continues referring to themselves as a group. https://jymeowmix.wordpress.com/2020/01/01/worlds-worst-tech-guru-tries-to-hack-the-meow-mix/  And with MM having a similar writing voice to LR and the number of similar twitter accounts using the idea of living near Yaniv I think it’s safe to say LR is indeed working with 3 or more people in efforts to document and organize information so the world can see exactly what type and degree of fuck up Yaniv is. I don’t know about you, but the last gang of boomer I met hung out in dead Quake forums, and they knew nothing of lolcows.

Now some more solid facts. LR has a car. We know that because they tweeted about being at “Brown’s” the same time as Yaniv. Using the old Google, I can see a Mary Brown’s Chicken & Tater’s just off the highway that runs behind where they live. It’s not a walk-able distance, and the highway makes it unsafe for foot traffic despite the homeless camps. Chicken & Tators sounds right up Yaniv’s alley, so I don’t think my assumption that this is the location in question is far off.

LR is Canadian. This is duh, but I believe they were born and raised in Canada. In tweet wishing Yaniv a lovely day they use the words “chequing account.” My French was sent tingling. In the States we spelling it, checking. So this person was raised in the land of hockey lovers.  

Now we get to the pure speculation portion.

The profile.

If we return to LR’s avatar it’s good ole Edna K standing in front of the chalkboard looking disgusted and tired. A teacher who has seen it all and not amused by the antics a child who acts up to hide the fact they cannot understand the material they’ve been given. I feel this is how LR feels about Yaniv in general. Withe him you go through a cycle, first confusion, then disgust, followed by rage, then disbelief, and finally to settle on he’s is nothing more than a man child who craves attention because they have nothing else in their life. A girlfriend requires work and showering. A job requires work, and showering. Being a role model requires work and showering. All things Yaniv doesn’t want to do. It’s easy to smear on lipstick, slam his unwashed balls on the counter at Starbucks and demand coffee, then screech discrimination on twitter about his trans-rights being butt hurt and get a gift card. If it wasn’t for the fact that Yaniv wants to kidnap a child and brainwash her into thinking tampons are sexy, and limp, smelly, pencil dicks are all a woman can hope for, I doubt LR would have reason enough to do any of this. Despite their obvious disdain for Yaniv and Mrs. Yaniv, they post very little besides what a neighbor would have to deal with. They don’t post their pranks. They don’t leave things on Yaniv’s door. They leave stickers to warn kids, and record the Yaniv’s screaming at each other like the trailer trash they are.  Most people aren’t compelled to create a twitter account to complain about how their neighbor’s dog shits in their lawn on mowing day.

That being said, they do enjoy the trolling. By far LR and MM have gotten under Yaniv’s nut-sack like a reporter waiting to ask about the Elmo voice. It’s an honor not many hold as Yaniv wants the attention, but that that it’s not on his terms, and in a way he can’t bully to control it’s driving him up a wall. Poor thing. All he can do is film himself fingering his ass in his mom’s house in front of underage girls. Truly, MM and LR are terrors. How is our brave “Trans-activist” to live without going out to stalk around Justice so he can finger his ass in the dressing rooms?

And on a unrelated note. LR likes the elevator. Seems like they’re in there a lot. And Mary Brown’s is all southern comfort food. The kind that you eat when you hate yourself. It’s my favorite. So I would hazard that LR isn’t going to the gym, and is often very tired, either from a stressful job, insomnia, depression, or iron deficiency. It’s hard to get in their head because they are careful. Very careful. They know who they’re dealing with and moves according, taking advantage of weather and human nature to move. I would guess they wear something with large pockets or walks a dog that allows them to move at night with a bag or purse. It gets confusing as posts on MM aren’t clear what are supplied by LR.

If I could sit on a meeting I might be able to finger more closely who it could be by body language. But, I could be 1000% off. Honestly, I don’t care. I mostly wanted to prove I gave more thought to it than a pedo.

[from-carolina-to-california]

The Pre-Trip, Part 1

I’m writing this more to clear my mind than to convey useful information. So far, planning this trip has been a little arduous. Gas is largely the only constant. Whatever we do, we will need gas, which has made it simple to allocate funds for. Luckily, we’ve chosen to take a road trip as gas prices rise to the highest level the US has seen since 2014ish, and we’re doing our part to make the ice caps melt. Screw those polar bears.

In all seriousness, lodging has been the most time-consuming to plan. Ariel and I am on a budget, and thus we’re looking at afforable lodging that doesn’t consist of a bunk house or a bedbug-ridden Bates Motel. So far, we’ve managed to average around 70-80 dollars a night at hotels by leveraging flash deals on hotels and some Airbnb goodness. We’ve got everything up to Death Valley National Park (our farthest point west) planned out, which means we’re halfway competent. Camping will be a bit difficult, since the overwhelming preponderance of campsites along our route cater to RV’s, often exclusively. However, camping is much cheaper than hoteling. Turns out staying at a hotel is much cheaper if you take away the building. We’re hoping that we’ll score some first-come-first-serve campsites at Great Sand Dunes National Park, Zion National Park, Death Valley National Park, and the Grand Canyon. Farther along, we’ll likely need campsites at places like White Sands and Mississipi River parks, but pretty far along at this point, and our plans might change quite a bit once the first sunburns and blisters start to show. 

Food will hopefully not be an issue, although storing it could get dicey. The interior temperature of a car in summer can reach around 170 degrees Fahrenheit, which makes a cooler very, very necessary to slow the inevitable process of decomposition. So far, I’ve been looking at powdered milk, powdered eggs, oatmeals, and various pastas to help keep our bellies full. Ideally, I’d like to keep some meat and veggies in the cooler so we don’t get iron deficiency or scurvy, but we’ll se how long the ice can last. 

Tonight, we’re going to go to Wal-Mart and/or the unfortunately named Dick’s Sporting Goods to pick up some camping supplies. We currently lack a tent and a sleeping bag for Ariel, and probably some other things that I’ll realize when looking over the vast selections available to us. We’re picking up a camp stove, cooler, cot, sleeping pads, and my sleeping bag from my parent’s house on Saturday, which lowers our equipping cost drastically.

Overall, I think we’re doing well enough. We’ve got an itenerary, some reservations, and a general guideline. The rest we’ll learn as we go. It’s a first for both of us, and 94 hours of driving is no joke. I’m pretty sure you could fly around the world in less time. 

Our itenerary (is that how it’s spelled?) VVV

https://roadtrippers.com/map?a2=t!21545907&lat=36.41397490212428&lng=-116.27574843571938&utm_campaign=trip&utm_medium=share&utm_source=copy&z=7.688058157075606

[empoweredindividual]

Does Niacin actually help with panic attacks/depression?

I’ve lost track of all the different anxiety and depression meds I’ve been on over the years. It’s kind of a joke when doctors ask me to list all the meds I’ve tried. I remember some big ones, like Prozac (my first), Xanax, Klonopin, and Zoloft, but they didn’t help me any more than the countless other pills I’ve taken in my attempts to be a happy person. Cannabis is extremely effective, but it also causes me more anxiety, being illegal and all. I felt hopeless. I had been the same for years, and it seemed that no medication would help me. I hated the feeling of being on meds, and I knew in my heart I wasn’t going to find a pill to turn me into the person I wanted so badly to be. However, Niacin has been the lifesaving anti-depressant/anti-anxiety medication I’ve prayed about for years.

I believe my anxiety is extreme. Before I started taking niacin, I was having panic attacks almost daily, and I cut and burned myself a lot. Something simple like not wanting to spend money to buy food for myself would have me sobbing, screaming, and hurting myself any way I could. I had a bad habit of hitting myself, particularly hitting my head against things, that began when I was very young (about 5) and resurfaced in college. I had a hard time leaving the house and talking to anyone, ever. I really hated myself, and felt constantly overwhelmed with even the smallest tasks. I felt like I needed a caregiver, someone whose job it was to take care of me at all times, just to talk sense into me when I got into one of my moods.

My mom was the one who first suggested taking niacin supplements. She had seen a film called Food Matters in which Dr. Andrew Saul discussed ‘mega-dosing’, giving his patients with mental disorders such as schizophrenia and depression ‘extremely’ high doses of vitamin B3, or niacin. The average dose for these cases was 3 to 9 grams of pure, flushing niacin (3,000-9,000mg). His patients made miraculous turnarounds and began to exhibit normal mental functioning, becoming calmer, more social, and more loving towards family and friends. When taken off these high doses of B3 (upon recommendation that the doses were too high), their symptoms returned, and they became reclusive and anti-social once again.

It’s been more than a year since I started taking niacin supplements on a daily basis, and I don’t want to imagine where I’d be without it. My life hasn’t dramatically changed, but I no longer have panic attacks as frequently or as intensely as I once did. In a sense, though, it has dramatically changed, because when your anxiety and depression has gotten that out of control, normal life feels so much more precious. Now, I will have a bad panic attack about once a month, sometimes less. This is still a lot, but it’s a world of difference from when I was having one almost every single day. I feel more hopeful than I’ve ever been, because I finally feel a sense of control over my thoughts, and therefore, over my emotions.

I only take about 500mg/day depending on how I feel, sometimes more. I take niacin once a day with food, usually at lunch, but again, I’ll take more if I’m feeling particularly bad that day. This is less than I took when I started – I’d typically take 2 or 3 500mg pills each day, one with every meal. I learned though trial and error that I don’t need that much, and I get the same benefits from taking one pill a day. I don’t take it like a normal pill, but instead crush it, so it gets absorbed more quickly and easily. This causes me to have a niacin flush all at once, where my blood vessels are dilated and I become red, hot and itchy. A lot of people don’t like this feeling, but I really enjoy it – I like feeling warmer and more energetic instantly. Also, I take a multivitamin with iron and calcium in it once a day. Sometimes, if I’ve been taking lots of niacin and not eating or drinking enough, my stomach will start to hurt. I have stomach pains normally already, and I know many others with anxiety have stomach issues as well, but it’s important not to stop taking niacin as your anxiety may increase. Some of the more recent panic attacks I’ve had are when I stopped taking it for a day or more, usually because of stomach problems.

When I haven’t taken any niacin for a day or more, I will start to get more negative thoughts. I definitely feel more on edge, but it’s strangest to me how my thoughts change. I will feel more worried about things and concerned that others don’t like me. I’m so used to thoughts like these (so used to believing them) that I don’t really question them until I realize I haven’t been taking enough niacin. I can’t even tell the change in myself sometimes, I’ll just realize that I’m having an increase in negative thoughts.

It took me several months to figure out what dosage/schedule worked for me, but I’m so happy it’s something I’ve stuck with for more than a year. It’s so important to try taking niacin at least a month or more if you’re serious about it and don’t mind the flush. It takes time to change thought patterns, because you are literally changing the neural pathways in your brain. A belief is just a thought that has been thought several times.  In my experience, challenging my beliefs has been the most freeing thing I’ve done to address feelings of insecurity and hopelessness.

Niacin has helped me more than any anti-depressant ever did, and I’m so lucky to have found something that works. Please reach out to me if you have any questions about niacin. I don’t know everything about it or why it even works, but it’s taken me awhile of trial and error to reach the routine I have now, and I am a much happier person now than I was before I started taking niacin. I want the world to know about niacin and vitamins, and how many of our physical problems are due to vitamin deficiencies. Don’t be afraid to take more than the daily recommended allowance of vitamins, especially if you are feeling depressed, weak, or anxious.