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keziha-writes · 4 years

Text

Coffee College And Skeleton Roomies 1/31

Inspired by this flufftober prompt list

A reverse harem fic focused on Sans and Papyrus from UT, UF, US, SF.

You had to leave that place, you knew transferring wasn't going easy but you couldn't stay, you just hope this time... this place... these people... it could be better. You just didn't quite expect to be meeting this many Skeleton monsters never mind just on your first day. Maybe these guys could be your freinds, your allies...? only time will tell.

Chapter 1

The first day

Bring… ring… bring… ring… bring… ring...

Your alarm sounded once again, that annoying ringtone echoing through the room, that tone seemed like a good one when you set it but now you're regretting it. Last night was pretty rough… How much sleep did you even get? You contemplate ignoring it... you could just switch it off for good this time and turn over and cuddle into your… sleeping bag??

You curse under your breath, you’d forgotten. How could you forget? Damn. You jump out of your sleeping bag and look over the mostly empty room for the clothes you set out. How many times have you hit snooze?

You rush to get ready as fast as you can. No time for breakfast. You're gonna be so late and on your first day. Thankfully you’d at least had the brains to pack most of your stuff in the car yesterday, which is why tonight you slept on the floor in that old sleeping bag…

Why couldn’t they just let you get in your dorm yesterday? Or something? This is what you get for transferring halfway through the term. You check the time, there's about 30 minutes before your first class, if there was little traffic you could get there in 25… maybe you could make it.

***********

You park up, grab your bag and check you have everything, “phone…? Check… notebooks? Yep. pencil case? Ok. wallet? Don’t forget that!”

You grab your wallet from the glovebox and jump out the car.

Time…? 3 minutes.. Ok you got this.

You run into the college.

Humans and monsters alike walk around in their clicks, some hanging around by the stairs, others wonder aimlessly, they're either skiving or have later classes, you thought but there wasn't much time to dwell on it as you hurry passed, take two seconds to look at the map to check where you needed to be and booked it for your classroom.

This class was pretty close to the entrance and easy to find, you knew the next wasn’t going to be half as easy.

You made it with less than a minute to go, you step into your class after double checking it's the right one.

It's a rather small lecture hall, most of the students are chatting amongst themselves. Your nerves are spiked by all the unfamiliar faces, but that was good, unfamiliar was why you were here right? But still you just hope you can make good use of this new fresh start. You look around for an empty seat… it took a second but you found one and sat down. And it was just in time because the professor walked in just then.

He calls the class to attention and everyone takes their seats with some grumbling of course. Then he got right into the lecture.

You got your things out and started scribbling down as much as you could.

“Psst...”

Was that for me? You think, looking around just in case and see the skeleton next to you looking over.

“Hey… um… new girl, I forgot my pen……” he whispers and you get the hint.

It was inevitable someone was going to ask you for a pen, thankfully you came armed with spares just for that reason. So you hand him a pen.

“Thanks darlin’, you're a lifesaver,” he hummed.

Did he just call you darling?? Ok……

“Just remember to give it back.” you whisper back, before turning to your work.

Hopefully the bit you missed wasn't really important…

Class flew by and you thought you understood most of it, then you had to have a quick chat with the professor to make sure what you learnt in your other college lined up with what he’d taught this class, it was pretty much the same but you still had a little extra homework.

You take your extra work, overly expensive textbook and your things out of the room.

You think about how you're probably not getting that pen back, because there was no way that dude was gonna hang around till after your chat with the professor was over. You turn to go back and have a look at that map, you have a while to go before your next class but this one won't be as easy to find so you want to make sure you know where you’ll need to go.

“Hey new girl!” a small shout comes from behind.

You turn and it was him, that skeleton who borrowed your pen. The first thing you noticed about him though was how tall he was, like he is really compared to you, in fact he towered over you. The next thing was that… like damn this dude has a gold tooth? You didn't see it before since it was on the other side of his skull, he also has a crack through his eye socket. His fashion style? Well you think he must frequent Hot Topic or something, cuz that black jacket with the fur trim hood with that rusty orange sweater?… This guy is edgy as hell.

“Here.” he holds out your pen to you.

“Um.. thanks.” you take the pen and toss it into your bag.

“So… I’m um… curious you got a name darlin’.”

Darlin’ again? Is he trying to hit on you? He seems pretty genuine, maybe he isn't, you don’t really get the vibe that he is but then that one word kinda throws you. So you just smile and give him your name. Oh how about a bad joke!

“Nice to meet you curious.” you add before you can stop yourself, only to cringe seconds later…

Wait is he laughing? No way he liked your dumb dad joke?

“Good one,” he chuckles. “The names actually Rus, and it’s… um nice to meet you too.” He gives you a shy little smile, that somehow really suits him despite his style. Then Rus holds out his hand for you to shake.

So of course you do, only to recoil.

“Ouch.” then you laugh. “Was that?”

“A hand buzzer, yeah…” he chuckles again. “never gets old.”

From looking at him you would have never guessed he was just a shy jokester. Well as they say don’t judge a book by it's cover.

“Say, um… have you… you know... had anyone show you around yet?” he asks.

“No, I haven’t but it can’t be that hard to figure out right?”

“You’d be surprised, you know I got some time… so... if you do… and-and only if you want, I could... like... show you around.. or something?”

“Are you sure? It would be really helpful but I wouldn’t want to ask that of you.”

“You ain't asking, I'm offering.”

“Alright, If you really wouldn't mind.”

So your new classmate Rus showed you around and he was right it was pretty complicated to get around, you tried your best to take note of the different classes you need to remember but every corridor seemed to look the same, that's one of many things that make the first week or so in a new college so hard. Friends was another but hopefully you were already winning in that area. Rus is rather shy, and quiet but also pretty funny, if you can help it you'd definitely want to hang out more. Seemed like lending him that pen was a wise choice.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Next chapter!

I know it's kinda short but I hope you guys liked this chapter, please let me know what you thought of it. Oh and can you guess which prompt this one was? XDD

I'll hopefully post the next one tomorrow at some point.

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shuwuwua · 5 years

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farmboy!joshua

in which your first time in the rural countryside–crap internet, 20 minute drives to the nearest grocery store, random deer in the roads, and all–is not bad. not bad at all. (aka joshua and animals and being very soft) [fluff]

word count: 3k

disclaimer: not all rural areas are the same. you can get high speed internet. (just not in my personal experience lmao)

you were born, raised, and spent most of your livelihood in the same city

a proper skyscraper sort of city, not a “it’s bigger than a town so i guess we have to call it a city but the tallest building here is still only 4 stories high” city

your family wasn’t really one for vacations but this summer your parents decided to switch it up and spend a few weeks with your relatives who live in the countryside

and although you’ve been skeptical as to what’s possibly worth spending that long in the boonies, you figure it’s been a while since you saw those relatives and don’t say much against it

you’ve tried unsuccessfully for the past few days to avoid nature by browsing YouTube, but it’s proving difficult with your relatives’ lack of surfable internet

they finally suggest you go to the petting zoo

and you snort a little at first bc it’s not your ideal pastime but you suppose that’s what you gotta work with now in the boonies

so you drive to the nearby petting zoo. you exit your car.

and your hit with the Smell™ (of dried grass and poop, to clarify)

and you’re like. oh yeah. i’m definitely in the countryside.

you proceed.

as you walk up the path to the main buildings, you see some of the larger animals around you. horses. cows. the pigs are outside feeding at this hour. you’re kind of in awe because you’ve never seen a Live Cow and,,, they’re kinda cool how they’re so chill and they look sorta Smooth like they’d be really pettable and you wonder if you’d be able to milk one or smthn

but you’re getting a little ahead of yourself.

you open the barn door. and are immediately hit with more Smell™

you wonder if it’ll attach to your clothes. you figure you will deal with it later.

there is something else to deal with at the moment.

“wait, no–lucky! come back!” someone yelps as they rush around in front of you, chasing what seems to be a ball of fur that moves at the speed of light

or a puppy. same thing, really.

that someone takes a giant leap of faith, only to just barely miss the pup and end up face first on the floor, which you can’t imagine being the most sanitary of surfaces

you look away in search of the flurry of fur. you can’t see it, but you can definitely hear it. unfortunately, it doesn’t sound like it has a collar, so you prepare yourself to scoop it up completely rather than grabbing its collar. as expected, it runs into your direction and you launch at it...

success!

lucky squirms in your grasp, barking and sniffing at your shirt. they must decide that you’re an agreeable human, because they start trying to lick your face

“wow, you caught him!” you look up at seemingly the body from earlier

and like,, not to exaggerate but is this what looking at an angel is like?

the boy you’re looking at looks back with such bright eyes and with a gaze full of affection, although after a second you realize the affection is probably for the dog. he has the best smile you’ve seen in a good while, because people you pass by in the city don’t smile that much. he just radiates Warm and Good and is probably great for business, because he’s just as cute as the puppy who is still going at your chin

“i… yeah, guess i did. uh, you kind of have straw all over you” is what you settle on saying to him, because out of all the things you noticed about him, your brain decides that the straw and dirt still sticking to his cheek and various parts of his shirt were the most acceptable features to point out. while they weren’t the more flattering options, they probably saved you from the complete AWKWARDNESS that would have come from mentioning his eyes or beaming smile or really anything else bc the straw and dirt were the only flaws.

“oh!” he exclaims, straightening up and brushing off his shirt

“… here too,” you say, grasping lucky in one arm as you move your other hand to your cheek

of course, he wipes at the wrong side.

“the other side”

“right. ok. am i good? sorry, that’s not a great first impression.”

he still has a smear, but you decide it’s probably not going to budge and he’ll figure it out later. and he has no clue what a great first impression it was. clearly. “no, it’s fine.”

he continues to smile at you and you’re still crouched, clutching lucky. lucky then decides to yelp because he’s tired of the severe lack of attention, which snaps you back to the situation.

“oh, right.” you stand and give lucky back.

“here he is!”

once lucky is back in the boy’s arms, he immediately starts to lick at his jaw. the boy sighs and pulls a treat out of the pocket of his apron, waving it around lucky’s face. “what are we going to do with you?”

he turns back to you. “sorry about that, lucky is a very excited young pupper, as you just saw. the most problematic of all his siblings. anyway, i’m joshua! welcome to nabiya petting zoo. is it your first time here?”

you nod. “er. it’s actually my first time in this area, or in this part of the country, really. i’m from a pretty big city.”

“oh! well, a bigger welcome, then. i hope you enjoy your stay.”

he rubs lucky between his ears. “isn’t it nice to get away from the busy urban life sometimes? i’ve always thought it’s really relaxing around here.”

“yeah, it seems… nice so far,” you say loosely, reflecting on how you haven’t really seen enough to come to that conclusion

he still has that warm smile. “i’m going to put lucky in his pen. hm… you’re the only one who’s come in so far today, so i could show you around if you want?”

“yeah, sure! i haven’t seen a lot of these before,” you reply, going down the list of animals at the side on the wall.

“ok, i’ll be right back!”

when he comes back y’all walk around n look at things and he asks you if you want to hold or feed some animals and you take everything pretty well, more than even you expect

you look at the normal domestic sort of animals like a litter of kittens, and the pen with lucky and his other pupper brothers and sisters

typical farm animals like pigs and sheep

sheep are not as fluffy as you imagine, they’re actually kind of gross looking if they haven’t had a bath recently

nonetheless you find them kind of cute, and you even pet one of the rams, aptly named… sam the ram

something tells you joshua was responsible for the name

you guys go out to the field and observe some turkeys strutting around

“huh so that’s the thing you see in clipart, the thing hanging off their faces”

“yeah it’s called a snood”

“LOL huH”

“only the dudes have snoods”

“um”

“during mating season, female turkeys pick male turkeys with longer snoods. you could say they’re in the snood for love.”

“please stop”

y’all spend a lot of time with the rabbits bc “bunnies are my favorite animal” says josh as he crouches next to a brown fluffball of a bunny, petting it

it’s just such a Good n Wholesome scene you can’t help but let slip “wow ur so cute”

he looks up, but his expression says he is otherwise unbothered

“sorry, what’d you say?”

“i SA ID the buNNY is sO cuTE” panics

“oh” joshua says. “alright” he turns back to the bunny, a tiny smile on his face

before you know it, 4 hours have passed and your stomach is letting you know dinnertime is approaching, so you bid josh farewell and wonder if you’ll ever see him again because that was a hecking nice 4 hours

you find yourself coming back again two days later lmao

today, joshua is putting out slop for the pigs. he grins at you.

“hey again. what brings you back so soon?”

you find some excuse like “ykno i just bonded with sam the ram so well i had to come back, we’re bros now” and josh just laughs softly at you

“ok. you wanna look at some horses today?”

“whoa. o-okay.”

when he brings them out ngl you’re kinda intimidated bc like,, they’re some toL bois.

one time you saw a pony at the state fair but that was smol n cute and walked at a pace of 3 miles an hour

but these horses?? threatening. now you understand where the horse in horsepower comes from

“hey, don’t look so scared. they’re harmless!” the black stallion chooses that moment to snort and buck a little.

you gulp.

“no, really.” he pets the stallion. “snuffles has never hurt anyone.”

you blink

“,,, snuffles ??”

joshua gives you a hard stare. “7 year old me thought that was an appropriate name and today years old me still thinks it’s fine”

you raise your hands to say “ok man ur turf ur way”

joshua clears his throat dramatically and turns back to ,, snuffles. “so aNyway, i brought snuffles out because i think he’s the best for a beginner to ride, and i’m assuming you’ve never ridden a horse before.”

“yeah i haven’t… wait did you say we’re gonna riDE them??”

“yeah, we don’t usually let people do that but i feel like you need the whole farm experience so you can go home and tell your friends the country isn’t just yeehaw and old town”

“but like… isn’t this just proving the point of old town? you literally have the horses in the back.”

“however, my hat is not matte black. i don’t even have a cowboy hat. or Wrangler. or anything else the song mentions. just the horses.”

“ok joshua if it makes u happy i will take snuffles to the old town road”

he gives u a big :D

he instructs you on how to mount the horse and stands behind you in case you start falling but thankfully you don’t so we don’t have to go over any kind of cliche

~ gripping of the waist for balance ~

~ catching you in his arms ~

scenes

: ))

“hey, good job! give snuffles some pats or something.” you reach a hand out to stroke the side of snuffles’s face. he whinnies a bit. Well frick, you think, that was kind of cute.

joshua decides he’ll walk some laps around with you before letting you actually ride snuffles by yourself. after you seem to be comfortable, you guys walk/trot around some and that’s how the rest of that afternoon goes :)

picture this with me

the sun is low in the sky

and y’all and your horses are just looking out over the hill

skin lookin immaculate bc it’s the golden hour

a massive grin you don’t even realize you have on your face.

and then you gotta go home, as your stomach reminds you again.

over your stay at your relatives’ place, you visit the petting zoo more times

you and josh become pretty comfortable with each other

he always has a lot of time to spend with you bc people don’t come that much this early in the summer, and in general they don’t get a huge amount of traffic but that’s okay financially bc the petting zoo is just a side thing, it’s mainly his family’s farm

and so you learn more things about him and his family from your times together, you guys sometimes sit around with some lemonade and hold some bunnies. lucky has also taken a liking to you, so you hold him a lot.

joshua tells you about his parents having always wanted to live peaceful and healthy lives, eating their own produce, moved to the area before he was born and it just expanded into the farm.

so although no one lives on the farm, they live pretty close by and he spent most of his childhood around all the animals.

you wonder if he was born with the soft, patient, and gentle nature needed to care for all the animals or if the animals shaped him to be that way.

but on top of that, he really loves spending time with them. even though he’s there basically every day, he never seems tired of his job.

“but what about you though? i’ve never really been that far from here, so i wonder what a big city is like.”

you trade your chaotic urban stories for his peaceful rural ones, and he trades his farm accident horrors for your memories of solidarity in the city.

you tell him about all the great food, countless different flavors of restaurants and a bubble tea chain every few blocks

you tell him about the convenience, the variety of transportation and the proximity of things, like basic groceries

the crowded sidewalks, the crowded metro, the crowded shops

the neon signs that light up the night, the period of quiet and calm somewhere around 3 in the morning, when you can open the window and hear the city nightlife in its most muted yet most raw state.

not only has time in the countryside made you appreciate it more, but also your home life more.

while you’re still wrapped in your memories, joshua smiles softly at you from the side. lemonade long forgotten, ice long melted. “that sounds really nice. your stories make me want to visit you in your hometown some time.”

huh. he could’ve just said visit the city, but he said visit you in your hometown. joshua has such a way with making the conversation personal.

you process what he said again and think about what it’d be like if he came. you could take him to all those places you raved about… it’d be like…

,,, a bunch of dates really. your brain frazzles a bit at the thought.

“… yeah! … that’d be pretty cool.”

and that’s how your afternoons pass these days. lemonade at the side, bunnies in hand, breeze passing through hair.

eventually josh asks you if you want to hang out like… nOT at the petting zoo

and you’re like whoa ok what’s your idea

and he’s like “can you meet me at watchtower hill tomorrow at 8pm?”

he thinks about what he just said and quickly follows with “i know that’s kind of a really late time, but i promise i have no nefarious intent! oh, shoot that makes it seem like i do. i really don’t i promise! i just wanted to show you what the sunset and night sky are like in the countryside. oh, i just spoiled it…” he flashes you an awkward smile and some finger guns. “yep, that’s what we’re doing! no nefarious activities.”

you grin at him. “calm down dude, i didn’t think like that in the first place. i’m usually out even later at home anyway.”

he rubs the back of his head and laughs it off with you.

you do meet the next day at 8pm. he brings some midnight snacks that his mom made. except they’re not really midnight snacks, because you’re not trying to stay out there until midnight (spoiler: you do, because y’all yak a lot)

you guys sit on your jackets, watching the sunset. it’s the kind of temperature that’s says it was mad hot during the day, but now that the sun is going down, it’s cooled into a pleasant room temperature with an occasional warm breeze.

for once you all don’t say much, because it’s nice to just share the moment.

you reflect on how you’ve come to experience the area recently. most of it was the petting zoo, but sometimes you’d take up some of joshua’s suggestions about the area and report back to him how the experience was later on.

looking out at the sun that bleeds out into the blueish black night, you think that it’s been a pretty good time here, and maybe it does have an edge on city life.

as the last of warm colors finally seep out of the sky, the moon takes over the night and the stars become more apparent than you’ve ever seen before.

seriously, it’s a scene out of a movie. you know, the wide screen shot of the protagonists staring at the sky, mystified. the panorama over the constellations that twinkle down at you, a little gift from the galaxy.

“i’ve never seen the sky like this. all the twinkling lights in the city come from the streets, and the buildings. which are pretty in their own way, i think. but Mother Nature… is really something else,” you say.

“yeah,” he says, looking at you as you’re still in awe at the sky. “something else.”

a few more moments pass, but it’s a timeless night as the sky is frozen in space.

joshua lays back on his jacket.

“hey,, maybe this is sort of crazy but.”

you turn to him, raising a brow.

“it’s been really, uh.. it’s been. really awesome getting to know you. i’ve just kind of… seen the same sorts of things all my life. the same sorts of people. i mean! of course, everyone is unique in their own way but! you know.” he takes a glance at you. “rural folks, urban folks. there’s a difference. so I’ve really enjoyed talking with you. uh, i mean i enjoy talking to you regardless of if you’re from the city or not!”

he puts a palm to his face and sighs. from behind his hand, he says, “i just like you.”

“i like you too, joshua! you’re a really great guy.”

“no, not like that. i mean. i like you.” he finally removes his hand.

you blink a little. and finally burst into a grin. “yeah. i like you too. you’re a really great guy.”

it’s his turn to blink

you lie back as well. he slowly starts to smile next to you

the stars above shine on.

yeah. this is a life you could get used to, too.

a/n: i stole the snood puns from a website i was reading sry website. hope you guys enjoyed and i had a lot of fun writing joshua this way (he’s all squishy, not exactly canon i would say lol)

#joshua scenario #joshua scenarios #seventeen scenario #seventeen scenarios #seventeen #joshua #hong jisoo #joshua hong #type: scenario #genre: romance #genre: fluff #format: bullet #scenario: seventeen #scenario: joshua #words: 5k #author: jae

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ddonggeun · 6 years

Note

Hey! So I’m suspecting if I got adhd/add but is there any symptom idk. It’s really exp here to get it diagnosed

sorry it took me a while to get back to you because honestly i dont know whats a good alternative for you can be so i guess i can share my own experience?

first of all i think googling symptoms and types of adhd and reading peoples account on how adhd/add manifest is a good start? my doctor and the reddit /r/adhd REALLY help me to accept myself (which is the first step i think) but the way i get diagnosis (i am adhd with predominately inattentiveness - but at the same time i have depressions and dyslexia which is like a killer combo 10/10 would never rec) is that i came across with an article a couple months about how girls with adhd are more likely to be (mis)diagnosed with depression and it basically fucks up multiple generations because they cant get the help they need and i was like wait whats describe in it sounds kind of like me but at the same time i have always been very lethargic and rather well behaved in class growing up i am nothing like what you would typically associate with adhd (you know the hyper-activeness) so during my next visit to the doctor (im getting treatment for my depression) i mention to the article to her and she said wait you know what describe how you feel in a classroom setting growing up and is there anything you do that teachers complain about repeatedly and tell me how studying and doing homework is like to you and so i did (i can go further into details of my life since a lot contributes to why i only get diagnosis when im 21… let me know if you would like to know i guess?)

my doctor (who just so happens to be an adhd specialist and is quite active in the research area i didnt know before then we stan forever i love her really she is so encouraging and so good at her job) took some notes as i was talking and after im done she said you know what i think you might be onto something but i cant be sure yet (since i have depression and dyslexia which both overlaps quite a lot with adhd/add) why dont i first explain to you what adhd is and i’ll give you the set of official diagnosis questions you dont have to do it just take a look at it first do some research organize your thought talk to your parents about it and if you think getting a test on it is something you want we can set up another appointment and we can go from there - which is really really nice because adhd has always been a taboo at least with my upbringing it makes you a loser socially academically and you know just in general its not something you will want to have….

in hind sight there are SO MANY SIGNS even in early childhood how come no one notice i dont know prolly because i grew up in the 00s if you are different you need to kys lmao rip:

trouble paying attention in school or work,

the appearance of not listening - although im an audio learner funny enough

avoidance of activities that require sustained focus,

being easily distracted

restlessness

fidgeting and cant sit properly - i shake my legs or click my pen so much especially when im thinking or anxious lmao, i got into trouble a lot when i was younger because i only sit in my seat facnig the teacher 5 mins max at at ime then i move around or i move the chair around i think better when i cross my legs but i went to a uniform school and i always make my skirt too short so you know

interrupting - if i dont say what comes to mind when it comes to mind, the thought is gone forever

frequent talking and talking way too fast - i get the exact same comment every single report day class from when i was 4 till i graduated high school im not even kidding “she has excellent comprehension skill and reading speed. it would be great if parents can help her out a bit in maths or chemistry. she has a lot of potential if she applies herself, she seems distracted although when we ask her questions she can answer. very helpful and bubbly and yet she talks too much in class. she is not disruptive and her seatmate never complains but she just doesnt stop talking. we have been pairing her up with quiet students in class in the hopes that she will talk less in class but she just turn the quiet student talkative”

trying to do multiple things at once - i cant do one thing at a time, even when im say writing a paper i need to be listening to music or talking to someone if not switching between tabs or word files

mood swings

hyperfocus - oh boy oh boy oh boy

impulsiveness - i dont know if i get better as i age or is it getting worse i just know how to clean up my mess lmaooooo

poor time management - although i would say ever since i start listening to stuff 24/7 it really helps build a sense of the passage of time or whatever? its like now i know ok by the time i get to the third song in the shower i need to be washing out my conditioner; or say i need to go somewhere in 40 mins which is really abstract to me i set timers and put on a show thats 35ish mins even tho im not watching it just so im aware of time is actually happening if it makes sense

fail to follow through - i start things and once i have it figure out in my head i struggle to put it down in words or explain it to others i work well with other adhd peps tho

doesnt follow instruction and only do stuff their way

burnout - this is the worst especially if you are a perfectionist or a control freak and guess who is both

trouble coping with stress -

i luck out because im canadian and my doctor (in my schools clinic) just so happens to be a specialist who is very passionate about helping undergrads and grad school students to achieve as much as they can - so doctor and diagnosis for me is free. i do have to pay for my medications out of my pocket for a bit since im on vyvanse (to treat both my adhd and depression-lead anxiety its complicated but it makes sense when my doctor explained it to me lol) and this drug isnt covered by Pharmacare (CAD $130ish for 3 weeks worth of 30mg, im mostly on 30mg but on days when i dont have work on stuff or go to school i take 20mg just so my anxiety dont cause me to explode lmao) and very expensive but recently my doctor and i have agreed that vyvanse really work for me and it is something that i should be on daily for the foreseeable future we applied for special authorization which means i only gotta pay the tax… of course medicating isnt a must but it is what works for me and we figure out a way to make it affordable so i cant be more happy about that

at the same time i work with my psychiatrist to you know configure the whole adhd thing cause you know 21 years of repressing and forcing your feet into a shoes that not even your size frick you up thats something people dont tell you 🤷🏻‍♀️

what my doctor said to me then stuck with me - she told me adhd or add really is no monster or flaw in fact it is a very valuable set of traits we inherit from our ancestor - we hate it now because modern society render these skills useless well you see adhd isnt all about the hyperactiveness you see in the media people with adhd are extra sensitive to their surrounding and prefer hands on experiences (today we call them distracted) they are always aware of the change around them and is capable to attend to a couple things at a time and act fast because their brains are always making sense of things even when they arent consciously doing it. in todays society we dont want these kind of people why? because they ask questions they are curious people who notice trivial stuff that dont contribute to productivity they cant sit still which makes them not the ideal factor workers or pupils BUT! you have to remember that industrialization started like a century ish ago before that our ancestors live in predominately tribal society - adhd people then are the perfect caretakers and protectors, why? because they are always noticing things they adapt and react fast… so yeah it kinda suck for us growing up in a system thats designed to be everything we are and it is something that need to be changed but for those of us who “made it out alive” especially people who only get diagnosed in adulthood more often than not they look back and realize they have developed so many incredible ways to cope to make things work - are they always the perfect way? are they always health? no definitely no but at the same time it shows you how incredible these people are they make things work yes things are really hard sometimes but you got to give yourself a pet in the shoulder for not giving up… with the help of science and research we now know a little more about how adhd affect people we now have medication and programs developed to help people with adhd - they arent to dumb you down or numb you but instead it helps you to focus better so you can actually hear your entire thought and not just phrases or sentence fragments

#i rambled but i hope my personal experience give u a slight idea of how adhd/add manifest in others? but like i said medicating is not the #only way i think talking to people with similar experiences is helpful too even tho they might not be able to offer you professional medical #advices not feeling alone or that you are a weirdo is so important people talk a lot of about how poor self image among adhd ppls are common #and i think the social pressure is def one of the things that make it worse #i dont know where you are but if you are still in school #i guess talking to a trusted teacher or like social worker would be a good start they might be able to point you to more local and accessibl #resources.... and i mean you can always talk to me im very new to the whole actively combating adhd and not just cope with it but you know #sometimes you just need someone to hear you rant about stuff and im always here... i might not be able to reply fast since im in my last #semester 😳 and school is killing me lmao but ill try to response as soon as i see it :)))#ask #anon

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zenithgurugirl · 3 years

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Truth pt. 2

My mother since birth has sabotaged my life existence. Anything inspirational as kid that I have done, she did not support. As a child you have the tendency to impress your parent by joining spelling bee's, sports, art stuff, etc... You become social and make friends and become a part of your friends circle (clicks, subculture, etc...).

Okay, so the first thing I do as a child (because I did not go to preschool and probably should have to learn social friendly skills) I tried to play house with the other children. This did not work out well. The kids had the mommy and the daddy thing already picked out and they already picked out their kids (in Kindergarten we had this huge area with sections of play houses set up, it was awesome! Little fridges, ovens, bunk beds, table and chairs, all sorts of plastic foods and plates. It was loads of fun for most little kids okay.)

I was scouted out as a maid. We had picked babysitters and even played out granny and grampy but No... I was maid. I cleaned up the kitchens and made the beds. I cooked and vacuumed, swept and mopped. I did not have a place to go so I switched out into different play house families. I was honed out to be alone. The little girls had "mommy" meetings and the "dads" went to work. I went from play house to play house cleaning shit up.

At home I had a very large play house of my own as a little girl with a big doll house to match. Not from my mother but from one of the guys she dated. He was really amazing for building those two things for me. I was grateful that this guy (out of many many men she dated) even noticed my lonely existence. From age newborn to 5 I had no sibling to play with and no friends. My mother usually put me in the middle of the living room with toys and did her thing (what ever her thing was idk to this day.... I was too busy being imaginative in my own world in my head.) This wonderful man graced her life and felt sympathy for me. So I would come home and hang out the rest of the day in my very own neat organized play house.

Put this to real life perspective in a humorous way....

I might have been the fucking maid at school and neglected as a kid at home BUT I HAD A BAD ASS PLACE ALL MY OWN haha! Make me a maid - I got me a pad all my own, I did not have to share it with anyone! Take that Kindergarten!

I had an imaginary friend named Johnny. He was older than me and smelled like the river that ran behind our rented house. Yes he was wet, all the time, but never dripped water anywhere except outside near the bridge. Don't ask....

Anyway. During the time of the maid play crap at school; I did artwork. I would color on the huge pads of paper. I took advantage of the little book shelf littered with books and read every one of them. I'd get real bored and I screwed up by doing all the packets that were labelled with my name near the teachers desk. Oh she didn't like that because I went ahead and did all the work available for Kindergarten. It had my name on it and I was bored.... what did she expect?

Which reminds me; I was really good at reading and writing before the age of 3. I didn't talk until I was in Kindergarten - by choice. I didn't want to talk. I learned how to talk at age 1 and stopped at age 2 because I was traumatized by my cousins. So, I stopped talking and took up reading and writing. I was able to write paragraphs at age 4 and reading college books. No joke! Its not a bragging thing here. It was survival. I was alone, bored, and neglected by a parent.

In first grade I wrote a book for show and tell. It was called "Monsters". The rest of my Kindergarten year was artwork and going with the 5th graders to a reading circle while the other students did their packets LMAO! 5th graders were confused by my presence at first but then soon realized I was smart and began picking on me. So, in first grade I wrote my first story. MONSTERS. I even illustrated it with monsters. Okay, this didn't end well with the teacher all horrified about my well being and talking to my mom who beat the shit out of me when I got home. In first grade I ended up in the 7th graders reading circle as my 1st grade class mates did their reading circle. I was being influenced by the older kids who were picking on me.

I'm a parent today. I embrace and encourage my daughters decisions and goals. I even help her by purchasing whatever it is that she enjoys. She liked making music so I bought all sorts of crap so she can proceed with that. She likes painting and drawing so I bought art stuff of all kinds. Anything to reach whatever goal or dream she has; I support, encourage, and do with her.

Unlike my mother who beat the crap out of me for writing a book and freaking out the class. Funny thing is, she watched me write it and illustrate it at the dining room table. She kept calling me strange and weird but let me do it. Then beat the shit out of me ???? Thanks for the great support! What she should have done is redirect me, talk to me, and help me with it so it wouldn't be so shocking at Show and Tell. Thanks mom for your abuse, it was the best!

I kept writing. Any attention is great at this age, even if it was abusive attention. I wanted to become a writer. This was now my dream, my goal, my ultimate place in life. I would write books. I would read dictionaries and encyclopedias and all the research books that I can cram inside my big imaginative mind and make stories.

I was and still am continually sick (Marfan Syndrome). My mom did move around a lot. She had many boyfriends. Most of them never liked me because I was "weird". She invented a scenario of me that I was slow and retarded. This probably saved me from molestation since most of the assholes she dated were drug users and criminals and abusive and creepy. She claims today that she never did drugs but I'm well passed the age of naïve - if your friends and boyfriends are using YOU ARE TOO using with them. I was too involved with my lined paper and pencils and books to pay any attention to her bullshit life. I had bad grades except for my reading and English classes.

When we moved back to her childhood town; my play house was destroyed and my doll house ended up with my Aunt who hated little girls. I stopped school all together pretty much. I did good in 3rd grade but had 4th grade twice because the teacher of 4th grade could not stand that I was able to read and understand what her huge grading book was all about. Not sure if anyone out there knows what I am talking about - those huge grade books with all the answers and how to teach a class certain subjects in the book .... well, I read the whole thing and knew that she was doing it all wrong. WOW I got held back a year for being too smart for my own good. She told my mother that I was immature and needed more socially exceptional things in order to pass her stupid class.

She got a new teachers book the next year and locked it in her desk. She also had me sit in the far back so that I couldn't read the big teachers book while she instructed students. Oh lets not forget that she also took me out of college level reading and comprehension studies to Kindergarten reading and writing. Bitch. Like that was going to stop me from pursuing my dreams. I quite school. Basically slacked off anything she had to teach. 5th grade came and that teacher adored me. He let me read and write anything I wanted. The kids (my younger peers from my flunked grade) were jealous and tried everything to ruin my life. I hated them and they naturally hated me. I was in the library most the time during my second year of 4th grade and 5th grade. Read every book on the shelf and learned how to work the computer.

Fights every day after school during the second time around in 4th grade and 5th. I learned how to kick ass and give black eyes. I was bullied most my life so I learned how to fight back. I was even slapped around by a teacher! So, yep I think that kids should be able to fist fight. I think adults today should just go out and fight it out with boxing gloves. It does help. All this anti-bully crap has these kids today stupid soft to even the slightest gesture. OH HE TOUCHED ME! Yeah, he did touch you. At least he didn't fucking smack you around and call you curse words. Be thankful you little wimp!

My mother got married when I was in 5th grade to some wealthy asshole. He treated her like shit and me too. I was not allowed to have any books in my room and I couldn't have any paper or pens or pencils in there either. I had a television, black and white. No radios no desk no nothing. I had to get rid of my dolls. Basically; grow the fuck up. He molested me from day one until I was twenty.

Oh I tried leaving the home. A thousands times did I try to flee. I ran away all over the place. Now, normally a young teenager runs away to a friends house or to a boyfriend. I had neither. Sometimes one would run off to a relative. Yeah, I done fucked myself there too. My family hated me. Thanks to my mother, my grandma and grandpa - my aunts and uncles - my cousins - they believed whatever my mom had to say about me and most the time it was not good. She told them things like - I was a pathological liar, a thief, mentally retarded and rebellious, etc.... whatever she deemed good for her to keep me home. Crazy bitch.

I learned to be social all right. First place to run off to was San Francisco. I slept in the bus depot. I learned how to pan handle. I made friends with homeless and hung out with them learning life skills. You'd be surprised what life skills you learn from the homeless. Much respect for them out there! Sure I got sexually harassed maybe even sexually assaulted and raped. Shit happens and I learned from it. I learned to wear secure clothing and don't fucking flirt. Don't talk to everyone and keep to yourself. Discernment and gut feelings - yep I learned this. I learned to be alert and when it was okay to relax. I learned the value of life. I saw shit that would make one of these spoiled SJW people scream SATAN IS HERE lol! I see this bullshit today and just shake my head in shame about our society.

GROW UP AMERICA

My mom she would have people find me and drag my ass home. I wasn't doing drugs, I wasn't hoeing around and hooking it, I wasn't being a bad citizen in society. I'd always land a job and a place to stay out there. I gave good advice and was actually influencing good things to those around me. I was kind and caring and anyone who was helping me - in return - I helped them. But she would drag my ass back to her home with that molester. I signed up for modelling and that was short lived. I signed up for fashion design at an art school, paid my tuition and got dragged back home and had to drop out. She wanted me with her. Any boyfriend I had ended up sleeping with her or she'd tell them I'm retarded and they'd dump me immediately.

I ran so far away as to end up in New York. I ran off to Canada. I ran off to Mexico. No money. No car. Just a thumb for a ride and a backpack. She would find me and get someone to drag my ass back here to this county. I bought my first home in Oregon. Had to sell it after a year because she threatened me with her suicide attempt. Family blamed me for it and I wasn't even here!!!!! How can a person blame another if the other was not even around her depression. I never talked to her for a year. So she goes depressed to the point of suicide because I didn't talk to her and was living my 23 year old life out with a full time job, a newly bought house (not a rental), a car that was paid off and raising a kitten.

I was forced home by family members and threatened. I came back because my half brothers packed up my house with a moving van and had their wives beat the crap out of me. I wasn't going to come back. I had sell my house, my car, lost my job (worked in a craft store), and lost most of my belongings thanks to half brothers and their evil wives.

I rebelled as much as possible and became the monster they thought me to be OH YEAH! Started drinking, smoking weed, pill popping, partying, stole my moms car, and ran up the cell phone bill and any other bill she had to pay. Then I stole her money and spent it too! By this time I was 25/26 years old. I did try to run off a few other times but my half brothers would travel across the states and bring me right back to mother. She was divorced when I was 20 years old. My half brothers thought of me as a shit ass retarded girl. My mom began gender shaming me. I did end up gay for a while because she wanted a boy not a girl.

I'm super straight as they call it today. The gay thing was a phase. I can't keep a boyfriend ever or get married. My mom will scare them out of my life even today she does that shit. Oh and she moved in with me after I bought a trailer in the trailer park. The family tells me "She will be homeless if you kick her out so think about that when you decide to be nasty with her again. You will be blamed for her homelessness if you kick her out of your home!" OUCH!!!!!

Do I hate my mom? Yes.

I have many reasons to hate her. I learned to distance myself from any love and can walk away cold and shallow from any relationship. I have no heart for actual love now. Thanks to her I have learned this. Never get attached to anyone or anything. I can walk away from this life and not feel a thing for it. To me, it was a waste of time and energy. My existence is a total waste and time of energy.

Happy Mothers Day......

Actually; I love my daughter and her boyfriend. I have a motherly (my own kind of mommy) to her best friend and her boyfriend. They are my true family. If something happened to them I would be weeping and feeling pain over it. I had a half sister who was my best friend in my 20's who ended up as a best friend and I love her too. She passed away 3 years ago and I still cry over the loss of her. So not all is waste of time and energy. I did learn how to correctly love my little family despite what my mother has done to me. I still hate her. I live with her or rather she lives with me. Her sick joke is to tell people "My daughter and I are married" ..... No. Just no.

Someday I am going to publish my novels. Every one of them. I'm going to move away and have several places that only my little family knows about (my daughter, her best friend, and their boyfriends - because they seen first hand how my mother is) and I will build my mother a home of her own - a gift from me. But my homes are not anywhere near her home and no one can drag my ass to her house because after all - I gave her my life - 40+ years of it.

I just feel wasted away though. I missed out on all sorts of stuff that I am seeing with my daughter. I didn't want to live here in a trailer park. But when you have a mother or parent that leeches off you spiritually, mentally, and physically - your time and effort mean nothing. I had money but it was spent on her bullshit. Right now today she complains that she has no money blah blah - yet 6k sits in her bank account while I pay 300 dollars on bills and 850 dollars on rent with a 600 dollar paycheck. I'm in debt. She doesn't help and if I ask for her help she usually says "I don't have money to help you".

Typical.

I don't ask by the way. I know what comes out of her mouth with the HELP ME question. 6k in her bank though. She can pay bills for the next 3 months at least. Give me a breather. Or let me move in an ex boyfriend who wants to help me and is pissed off at her for digging me into further debt. She likes me suffering and struggling. If I am happy she gets all sorts of angry. No joke! She's 74 years old and still gets up in my mug if I even act on being happy.

So yep. I have vented it all out.

My plan; to own multiple escape area places and never tell her where I went. When she dies to collect the house I had built for her and leave joyfully and to never visit her graveside EVER!!!!!!!!

Happy Mothers Day!

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tracklist-fic · 6 years

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Tracklist Fic | 002 / Baggage

Title: Tracklist // 002 | An original, mature, Ed Sheeran fanfic CO-AUTHORED BY: @tea-and-toblerones and @sippin-on-red-wine Rating: No smuts in this chapter, sorry!

Ed……. I pulled into the studio’s car lot excited and ready to begin work. I had been enjoying my vacation immensely, so much I had skived off longer than I had originally planned. Now that I’ve sat down and discussed my vision I couldn’t wait to dive in. I had been up half the night writing notes and ideas down, too anxious to sleep. I was also looking forward to working with Jac. She had left a serious impression on me. She had such a magnetic personality. Strong, fierce and willing to take risks. She’s awfully fit too….no, Ed, she said this was a one off and she wanted to keep it professional from here on out. Her reputation is at stake here and I don’t want to sabotage it in any way.

When I turned my car off and was getting ready to get out I saw her standing on the pavement in front of the building completely obliterating some guy with an obnoxiously large bouquet of flowers. Her face red as she screamed at him. She threw them in his face, vigorously pointing away from the building before turning on her heel and marching into the building.

Uh oh…I don’t think she’s a fan of flowers….

Jac……. My morning had started off rough. I had gotten a poor night’s sleep due to a mix of Dylan’s lingering hands on my body and Ed’s scent in the sheets. Every toss and turn released a little burst of cinnamon sin in my nose. Just a reminder of the hot and wildly inappropriate night I had spent with him. Those bright whimsical flowers were sitting in my kitchen taunting me.

They’re not romantic Jac. They’re supermarket flowers for Chrissakes. Ed’s a known romantic. There’s no way he’d buy flowers from the grocer to express a romantic intent. Besides, daisies aren’t that romantic. They’re probably the most innocent flower you can give. You’re over-thinking it. You need to relax.

I was not prepared when my alarm sounded. Groaning, I turned it off, contemplating adding a mandatory nap break in today’s schedule. I unwillingly tossed the duvet aside and started my morning routine. I grabbed a to-go breakfast and filled my largest thermos with coffee, catching the flowers out of the corner of my eye. They’re so bright and colorful, just like him without clothing. That probably wasn’t the intention but…it’s right there. I grabbed my keys and headed out. I was determined to have a good day.

Today is not going to be a good day.

I knew this as soon as I pulled into the studio and saw Dylan sitting by the door. With flowers. Not just flowers: Roses. A stupid amount of roses. Oh hell no, he did NOT show up to give me these at work. He’s went too far. I slammed my car door closed and made my way to the entrance. He saw me, launched to his feet and rushed to meet me. His face broke out into a smile when he presented the stupid bouquet. He had left off the snapback again, wearing a light blue button up shirt with his aviators hanging from it, khaki shorts and brown boat shoes, his skinny pale ankles on full display.

“I thought I’d come give my girl some flowers at work. What girl doesn’t love that.” He beamed, so proud of himself and the gesture as he held them out for me.

I quickly knocked his hand aside, absolutely fuming. “For one, I’m not ‘your girl’ so you can get that out of your head right now. Second, where do you get off showing up here? I can’t stop you from showing up at the bar but I CAN put my foot down here. This is my workplace. Third, I don’t want you or your flowers. Go home Dylan, I don’t have time for you or your bullshit right now.”

His face quickly morphed into an angry look. “Last night you were all for us getting back together. Do you know how much these cost?” He shook the flowers angrily “Did you not remember me telling you I stopped taking my dad’s money? I did that for you, y’know.” He spat like it was a big deal.

“I’m supposed to be impressed by the fact that you’ve stopped living off your daddy’s money and are finally living like a fucking adult now?! Well congratu-fucking-lations Dylan!” I gave him a mock standing ovation. "Welcome to the real world! It’s about goddamn time!“ My voice echoing across the parking lot. I was beyond the point of caring.

He closed the distance between us, getting right up in my face as he screamed, spit landing on my face as I refused to back down from him. "Well you sure fucking seemed impressed last night. So much so you couldn’t wait to get me to your car so I could eat you out! Or do you just spread your legs for anyone now?! That how you plan on breaking on the scene? By fucking your way to the top? I bet you’re fucking whatever nobody you’re working with now in the off chance they become big when they find themselves someone who actually knows what the fuck they’re doing and not some wannabe producer like you!” His hands had been flying around and with his last remark his fingers had came across my jaw.

I snagged the flowers out of his hand and began hitting him with them. Petals and leaves flying everywhere as they smashed against his face, arms and every inch of him I could hit as I screamed in rage. There was a loud buzzing in my ears as I continued to hit him.

“How fucking dare you, you asshole! I EARNED my job! I worked my ass off to get where I’m at now, I didn’t go 'Daddy, give me a job at your movie studio ’ like you did! So you can take your flowers and your accusations and shove them right up your bleached ass! Yeah, that’s right Dylan, I know.” I threw the mangled mess of flowers in his face and pointed to the road. “Now get the fuck out off my lot before I send for security.”

I turned and marched inside, trying my best not to slam the door behind me. I didn’t look back to see if he was still standing there or not. I was just happy the doors were mostly soundproof so they couldn’t hear what had transpired outside. I turned to Valerie, the receptionist who wore a look of confusion as I stormed through.

“Is everything okay Jac? That looked pretty volatile out there.”

“If he hasn’t left in 3 minutes, call security Val. He wants nothing but trouble.” I took a deep breath. “Thank you.”

I didn’t break my stride as I pushed the door open and went straight to the sound room. Of course he’d pull this today. Today’s a huge day for me, why would I ever expect anything less from him. I was just glad Ed hadn’t been around to hear what he had said. I threw myself in the chair as I rubbed my face. We already started on less than professional terms and that scene wouldn’t have helped my image any.

God, this is a fucking mess. What if he’s still out there when Ed comes in? I know Dylan wouldn’t think he was working with me but what if Ed recognises him from the bar and puts two and two together?

I was kneading my temples with my fingertips when I heard:

“So…um…do you not like flowers?”

I look up to see a very awkward looking Ed standing in the doorway. I felt like screaming in frustration.

“You saw that?” Great. Just great. It was nice working with you.

“I saw you walloping a bloke with roses. Which made me feel pretty uncertain about the flowers I left for you…” So he DID leave them there himself.

“Yours were fine. Unexpected, but thoughtful. They’re quirky, like you.”

He sighed in relief, fullying entering the room and sitting down in another chair. “I’m glad you liked them. I saw them and thought they’d look nice in your apartment. Plus I wanted to express my excitement with working with you.” You hear that Dylan? Ed Sheeran, three sold out shows and first solo act to play at Wembley Stadium, is excited to work with me. You can suck it. “What is he, a regular that won’t take no for an answer? I noticed him at the bar when we met.”

Sure let’s go with that. You don’t need the details.

“Yeah, something like that.

Ed graciously took the hint and dropped the subject.

“So, I was thinking I’d just play the whole album for you today. Everything I’ve got so far. You up for it?” He was strictly business all of a sudden.

I took a deep breath, letting all of my frustrations roll off my back. Time to switch into work mode.

“Absolutely. Let’s do it.”

Ed grabbed his guitar case and one of the barstools from the little break area in the mix room. I grabbed my notebook, a pen, and a couple bottles of water and settled in on the worn-in leather sofa.

He got cozy on the barstool, one sneaker-clad foot flat on the ground, the other casually resting on the bottom rung. He slid his guitar strap over his shoulder and just started playing. Some songs seemed pretty complete, others were just a chorus or a riff, a single line to build the rest of the song around. He must have played to me for nearly two hours straight, stopping between each song to explain the idea behind it, or what had been happening in his travels that inspired it. Occasionally he’d take his phone out and play some soundbits from there.

I scribbled notes furiously, sketching out each song on it’s own page – writing down lyrics that stuck out to me, noting the emotion that each one solicited, jotting down ideas. Ed was a machine, he sat perched up on that barstool playing song after song, his silky voice filling the room, surrounding me. He sang with his eyes closed, most of the time. He’d often stop and play something back again, trying a new sequence, or different wording. Some lines didn’t have lyrics yet and so he just sang syllables to fill in.

Near the end of his song bank, he explained that he had written most of this one before his last tour had ended. He’d been really homesick and nostalgic and this one just poured out of him. It struck me right from the first chorus:

“And I’m on my way, Driving at 90 down those country lanes, Dee be deeeee do deeeedee, And I miss the way you make me feel, it’s real, When we watched the sunset on the castle on the hill,”

I hadn’t grown up with any castles, or broken my leg, or did many of the things Ed was crooning about. But the song was giving ME major nostalgia vibes. It really hit me right in the heart; remembering when my friend got her license, the first of all of us. We’d drive around for hours, singing at the top of our lungs, no destination in mind.

The chorus came back around -

“And I’m on my way, – I had an idea. Driving at 90 down those country lanes, –”

“–Singing to Tiny Dancer,” I sang over top of his deee do daaah’s, offering up a suggestion for the lyric. Probably crass and totally inappropriate, this was such a deeply personal song, but it just felt right.

His eyes opened then, though he didn’t miss a beat, a grin spread over his face.

And I miss the way you make me feel, it’s real, When we watched the sunset on the castle on the hill,”

He went right back into the chorus, trying out my lyric. I sang along with him, both of us grinning like dang fools. We finished up the song, strumming dramatically before silencing the last notes from the guitar and standing up from the stool. “Wicked… I really like that, yeah.”

He sunk down on the couch next to me and crushed a full bottle of water, the very noticeable vein in his neck moving with each swallow. Look away, Jac, look away.

He wanted to look over my notes, and so I handed them over and we talked through every song. After we had went through all of them, he set the book down on the table.

“Right, okay, yeah, we’ve put in a fair bit of work. How ‘bout we go grab ourselves some lunch? I’m starving and we’ve earned ourselves a break.”

It was such a trip to see him transition from work Ed to casual Ed. Everything about him changed. His focus was strong, his demeanor serious - all business. A force to be reckoned with. Someone who demands attention. Sure of himself, almost cocky. It was obvious he was more comfortable behind a guitar. Without it, he was awkward, borderline unsure of himself.

I heard my own stomach growl at the mention of lunch, my pathetic breakfast a memory long past. I did have slight pause at how he worded that. Did he mean we go get lunch together, and if he did, how did he mean it? Work lunch or a I-fancy-you lunch?

“How about we order in? Saves us the nightmare of lunch rush traffic.”

I could see him mulling it over as I prayed he said yes. I really didn’t want to have the whole boundaries conversation again. Nothing’s worse than having to repeatedly shoot down a guy. Especially when you have to continue to work with them.

“Yeah, I could go for some take away.” I could feel my muscles relax. I hadn’t realised I had tensed up. “What’s good around here?” He added, oblivious to the internal battle that was going on.

“Um, well, it depends on what you’re wanting. Actually, I have some menus in my car if you want to look over them.”

“Alright, yeah, that sounds good.” He was fidgeting with the pencil I had been taking notes with.

Okay, he seems way more awkward now than he did before. I’m glad I gave the choice of ordering in. I’m under the impression he’s got more than a friendly work lunch on his mind.

“I’ll be right back then.”

He just nodded as I walked out the door. I gave a couple quick hellos to my coworkers that were in the hallway. I didn’t feel like stopping to chat, even though a couple acted like they wanted to have a conversation. The phrase ‘Sorry, I gotta go grab something out of my car or I would stay and chat with you,’ coming out of my mouth frequently.

I stopped dead in my tracks when I saw my car. Anger quickly flaring back up. The word “Whore” was written on every one of my windows. I should have known that he’d react in some over-the-top frat boy manner. Luckily, it looked like he wrote it in window paint so it would come off fairly easily. Who knows how many people had already seen it though. No wonder everyone had been trying to stop me in the hallway.

Un-fucking-believable.

I turned right around and go right back inside, heading straight to Valerie. Part of me wanted to call the police, but I mainly just wanted to wash the words away before anyone else saw.

Oh Jesus Christ, what if Ed has a girlfriend. I never thought to ask…he’s known as a good guy but nobody knows what goes on behind closed doors. Especially since he went on break. We hadn’t exactly been discreet either…No, Jac, it was Dylan. He’s a fucking asshole and this is right up his alley.

“Hey, Val, you clean the windows in the lobby right?”

“I do, why?” The curiosity rang through loudly, though it must have clicked in because she added, “You need a rag and window cleaner?”

“Yep.” I muttered darkly as she fished around under the counter.

She placed the bottle and rag in front of me. “I hope he didn’t cause too much damage and it comes off easy. I’m sorry Jac. Break ups aren’t easy.”

“Oh, I broke up with him a while ago. He just doesn’t handle rejection well.” I had managed to keep my voice at a somewhat level tone.

Really need to re-evaluate your taste in men, Jac.

I sprayed some of the cleaner on everything that was written, letting it work it’s magic. Fuming, I scrubbed the shit off my windshield. It looked like he had thrown coffee or soda on it too since my hood was sticky as I leaned on it. King of the assholes, ladies and gentlemen.

I panicked as I heard footfalls coming toward me. I had totally forgotten that I’d come out here to grab menus, Ed was probably wondering why I’d been gone so long. I scrubbed faster, not wanting him to see what had been written.

“I thought I’d make sure nothing happened… Who the fuck did this to your car?!” He looked positively furious, his voice reflecting that. “This wasn’t here when I got out of my car. I waited until that guy got in a Range Rover and left before I came in! I can’t believe he came back!” He did a three sixty around my car, looking at the damage. “Jesus, why would someone key your car?”

“Wait, WHAT?!” I hadn’t noticed anything other than the paint.

I scurried over to where he was standing and groaned. Sure enough, the word bitch had been scratched right under the handle. A substantial dent underneath it. I wonder what else he did that I can’t see. Was he actually insane enough to tamper with the gas or something?

“Jac.” He spoke softly. “It isn’t any of my business, but what’s your connection with this guy? This is fucking mental.”

I sighed. “He’s my ex. We’ve been apart for a while now… He was never a saint but I, I’d never have expected him to pull something like this. He’s off his rocker, it seems.”

“Let me help you. I’ll have someone come collect your car and take it into the shop… it might not be safe to drive, Jac. I’ll give you a lift home.”

“It’s nice of you to offer, Ed, but I can take care of it. I’ll just call a tow and take an Uber home, it’s fine, really.” As if it isn’t humiliating enough for you to be seeing this.

“Look, I get it. You’re independent. But it’s okay to accept help every now and again, innit? Here, take my keys,” He insisted, digging into his pocket and tossing the keychain my way. “Just grab anything you need out of your car and toss it in mine. Really - your flat is on my way back anyway. I’ll drop you off when we finish up here.”

“Erm… thanks, Ed. I appreciate it.”

“Okay.” He clapped his hands together. “We need food to turn this day around. You grab your stuff and I’ll order us some takeaway, okay? Anything tickle your fancy?”

“Uh, not really.” I didn’t want to tell him I had pretty much lost my appetite.

“Any diet restrictions? Are you on the vegan bandwagon? Not that… not that there’s anything wrong with that! More power to you, I’ll just know not to order anything with cheese or meat… there goes three fourths of my diet…”

It was hard to stifle my laughter at his obvious awkwardness.

“No, I’m not vegan. Just nothing with cucumbers. Though I can’t really see you eating a salad so I guess that’s moot.”

“Hey, I like salad. I just don’t like kale or tomatoes.” He feigned offense. “But you’re right, I wasn’t planning on ordering salad. That’s like going to the world’s best steak house and ordering…well, a salad…” He finished quite lamely.

“I’m sure a vegan’s done it.” I said while digging the menus out of my glovebox.

He took them with a thanks. “Leave it to Teddy to satisfy your needs.” His eyes widening in horror as what he had just said washed over him. “YOUR FOOD NEEDS. I MEANT YOUR FOOD NEEDS.” His words tumbling out in a rush. This time I wasn’t able to hide the smirk that had ended up on my face.

“Just order some food before you embarrass yourself more.”

Oh you can satisfy other needs too. Quite well and I think you know that.

He just nodded and headed back inside. I could almost hear him telling himself to get his shit together. He definitely didn’t strike me as the type to be able to pull off a lie so the whole jealous girlfriend theory went out the window.

I didn’t have much that I would need, just my laptop case and a couple things out of my glovebox. I quickly found his car a couple rows down, a silver Audi SUV. The image of Soccer Mom Ed popped into my head, quickly replaced by the thought of how much room for extra curriculars he’d have. Jac, no. You’d never guess a famous person drove it, which was probably the point. He was still staying out of the public eye and no one would bat an eye at this. Especially out here where everyone drives expensive sports cars. I threw my laptop on the floorboard of the back seat before heading back inside.

I found him sprawled out on the leather couch, his notebook and pen in hand as he scribbled out what I assumed was lyrics, his hand flying across the page as he wrote with fervour. His brows coming together as he scribbled something out, writing something else down instead, nodding as he did so. I watched him lean over, snagging his guitar as he strummed a couple of chords.

“Hey, tell me how this sounds.”

I had lingered back, not wanting to interrupt him. I didn’t realise he had even noticed me hovering in the doorway until then.

Oh she is a sight to behold The way she moves when the lights are low It takes my breath away, everytime My heart is looking for a one way trip And she’s not like the women I know She’ll be the one to bring it back home. Daisies, placed upon your windowsill, Showing me where to roam Oh but darling, I’ve had my fill.

I sat there with my mouth slightly open. Is this about me? No….certainly not….he wouldn’t write a song about me…we’ve literally just met. Wow, I don’t think highly of myself do I?

“Why didn’t you sing this earlier when we were going over songs for the album?” I asked, my mind trying to come up with anything logical.

“Oh…. because I just wrote it …it’s still a work in progress, but I like to bounce ideas off of people and get their opinions.” He had tucked the pen behind his ear as he played. His hand went up, running through his unruly locks, knocking the pen from its resting place. He fumbled as he tried to catch it, the pen clattering to the floor.

“Oh, well, it has potential. I would finish it. That’s about all I can offer. I’m not much of a writer…”

“I dunno, you busted out that ‘singing to Tiny Dancer’ bit awfully quick.” he retorted, a smile playing out across his face.

“Only because that’s what my friends and I sang when we were cruising around.” I offered quickly, hoping to quash any thoughts of me being any help in that department. “You’re the lyrical genius here, not me.”

“I hold your opinion in high regard. You’ve got a good ear when it comes to music. If you think it’s worth continuing then I will.”

Shit, if this is about me, I’m just encouraging him to continue on. Giving him false hope… but it could be a beautiful song. We’ll see where he takes it before I do anything extreme.

Before I could respond there was a knock on the open studio door. Mark was standing there, a box of pizza in hand and his usual smile on his face.

“I’ve got a delivery for erm….Ben Sherman. I’m guessing that’s you.” He placed the box down, rubbing his hands together, “So, how’s it going in here?”

Ed opened the box, giving it a quick sniff before letting the box fall closed.

“It’s going really well. Jac actually helped me with a lyric problem I had been having. Here, have a listen.”

His guitar already in hand, never straying too far away from his reach. Mark had leaned against the door as Ed played, a smile coming across my face as he sang my offered lyric. I could see Mark’s work face coming out as he listened. Once Ed’s dramatic end came to a close, Mark took a moment to digest everything.

“It’s different. I don’t know how people are going to relate to growing up around castles though.”

“It made me nostalgic for my hometown.” I piped up quickly, defending the song, “Isn’t that the point of the song? A sort of hometown anthem, throwback to your roots, to a time when everything was less complicated. Everyone can relate to that.”

Ed was positively glowing with pride. “It’s gonna be my first single.” We both stared at him blankly as he placed the guitar aside and dug into the pizza. His chewing stopped when he realised we were both looking at him. “Wot? Do you not think it’ll be a good one?”

“It’s not that… it’s just a surprise is all.” I was just taken aback by the matter of fact tone in his voice.

“It’s a bit early to be thinking of singles, anyway.” Mark stepping in as the voice of reason. “You should focus on narrowing down your songs before thinking about that. I know you probably have loads of songs to sort through.”

My mind flashed to the hours of songs we went through earlier. Some of them were fully written, others were just snippets cobbled together. Mark was right, we really had our work cut out for us.

“Maybe. But it’s gonna be a single. I can feel it.” He had taken a giant bite of pizza so his words were pretty muffled, as he wiped his mouth with on of the napkins.

“Well I’m gonna let you get back to it then. I just wanted to check in on you guys, see what progress you’ve made.” He tapped on the door as he left, his trademark smile on his face.

I gave the pizza a look over. I was surprised by the amount of veggies on the pizza. There was was a variety of peppers, mozzarella cheese, two types of what looked like sausage and what is this green stuff? I picked off a leaf and gave it a sniff. No surprise the only thing I could smell was sauce and pesto. Was this because I said I couldn’t see him eating a salad?

“It’s Calabrese pizza. One of my favorites. It’s bangin’, you’ll love it.” He must have seen me giving the pizza a thorough look-over.

“I’m surprised about the veggies is all, not about the pizza.” I took a bite, the spiciness of the sausage blending well with the cheese.

The conversation had died down as we ate. I was still playing the song he had written in my mind. Daisies placed on your windowsill. Out of all the flowers he could have picked, he picked daisies. There’s no way that’s a coincidence.

Ed finally broke the silence. “Beautiful singing voice, you have.” he says, dropping the hard ‘t’ sound in ‘beautiful’.

“Oh….um, thanks.” My experience with singing was limited to showers, cars and drunken karaoke. I had no desire to ever sing in front of people.

“Did I embarrass you or make you uncomfortable? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” He seemed genuinely upset.

“No, you didn’t. It’s just…. you.” His confused and slightly hurt expression told me that came across the wrong way. “I meant, coming from someone of your caliber. Not that you make me uncomfortable.”

Well, that’s not entirely true.

Once the food was gone we had went back to going over our notes. The hours seemed to fly by and soon it was time to head home. As promised Ed had my car taken to a shop. When I walked out, he pulled up to the door. He popped his head out the window, his black cap turned backwards.

“Hi, I’m Ed and I’ll be your Uber driver.” A playful grin spread across his face.

I climbed into his backseat, much to his confusion. He spun around to face me, his cap knocking against his head rest, pushing it slightly off his head.

“Uh….what are you doing back there?”

“You don’t sit in the passenger seat in an uber, Ed.” I said, cocking an eyebrow at him, a whisper of a smirk on my face.

I heard him grumble something as he turned back around and pulled out of the lot. It sounded suspiciously like “...what I get for trying to be clever.” As we drove, we talked about things we liked to do in our downtime. I sighed, vaguely remembering what downtime actually was. I missed the beach something fierce. It had been ages since I had a beach day, I could definitely go for a relaxing day. Especially after the events of the last thirty six hours.

“Can you direct me? I’m not sure how to get there from here.” I could see his eyes looking at me in the rear view mirror.

“You can drop the act now, there’s no one around.”

“I’m not acting, I really don’t know how to get to your flat from the studio.”

“Oh.. okay what you want to do is…”

I directed him to my apartment, I could see the recognition of where he was at kick in when we got close. He pulled into a spot and turned back towards me.

“Do you work a shift at the Copperstill tonight? If you tell me a time, I can take you.”

“No, I’m off tonight. I’m just gonna have a nice quiet night in. Maybe relax with a glass of wine and have some well deserved me time.” I put a bit of emphasis on me time, hoping he’d take the hint that I wasn’t looking for any company.

He turned the car off. Guess he didn’t. “At least let me walk you to the door in case he’s been following you around and is waiting to ambush you.”

Shit, I didn’t even think of that. If he is waiting up there, Ed is the last person I’d want to show up with.

“I’m sure it’s okay,” I said, dismissing his concern.

“Jac, please don’t take this lightly. I’d feel like shit if something happened to you when I could have stopped it. Just, please let me look out for you.” He was almost pleading.

“Okay, if it’ll put your mind at ease.”

I collected my belongings from his floorboard and climbed out, bumping the door closed with my hip as I pulled my keys out. I saw his eyes follow the movement of my hips. He held his arm out and for a brief moment I thought he expected me to take it.

“Ladies first.” That smile coming back, playful, almost mischievous

I lead the way, my nerves on edge, hoping Dylan wasn’t waiting for me. He’s not really that mental, is he? You’re worried for nothing.

We made it up to my landing, thankfully empty. I unlocked my door and turned back to Ed. His eyes snapped back to me, my guess was they had been scanning my apartment. If it was for an intruder or his flowers, I couldn’t be sure.

“Thanks for the ride. I appreciate it.” subtly dropping that I’d like to be alone now.

“Anytime. Happy to help.” He either didn’t get subtlety or he was just ignoring it. “What time would you like to go in tomorrow?”

“Same time’s good for me.”

“Okay. Well I’ll see you at 8 then.” He gave me a wink as he turned around and walked down the hallway.

“Wait, we went in at 9!” I called after him.

“I’m your ride, remember?” He didn’t turn back or break his stride but I could hear the smile in his voice as raised his hand in a wave, “I’ll see you in the morning Jac.”

Oh that sneaky little devil.

I spent the rest of my night drinking wine and binge watching Netflix. Everytime my tv went black I could see those technicolored daisies reflected back to me. I took one of them out, a bright blue one, dried it off and pressed it between one of my books. There. Now I’ll have a memento from my first real client. When I’m hugely successful I can have something to look back on. That blue daisy was the symbol of everything I worked so hard to achieve.

As promised, Ed was knocking on my door at 8 in the morning. A smile on his face, two coffees and a bag in hand.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I got you a bear claw. I hope that’s okay.” He turned the coffee carrier towards me, his eyes flicking down to it with a nod telling me to take it.

I took it, muttering a quick thanks as I closed the door, locking it behind me. We head out to the lot where I expected to see his Audi, but was instead greeted by a sleek, charcoal grey Jaguar convertible. I looked at him in confusion as a giant grin spread across his face.

“Uh, what happened to your Audi? I quite liked that… it fit you.”

“Surprise! This is yours!” His smile threatening to engulf his entire face.

Ohyoudidnotbuymeacar.

“I…uh…come again? I’m sorry, what?!” I squeaked out.

“I felt bad since your car’s in the shop and while I don’t mind driving you places, we spend all day together and I’m told I can get annoying. So I thought I’d rent you one until yours is back. To give you a break from me.” His hands running through his hair again. He does that alot, it must be a nerves thing. “I saw it and I dunno I guess I could just see you behind the wheel so I picked it…it’s too much isn’t it?”

I had just stared at him with my mouth slightly open as he spoke. Now he was looking pretty unsure of himself. A worried crease came on his forehead.

“I just…I uh…you rented me a car? Thanks…You didn’t have to do that…I could have….I could have just ubered…where’s your car?” My mind scrambling to make some sort of sentences. It decided to make several and shove them all together.

“At the hotel.” he stated simply

“Do you see the flaw in your plan?”

“What flaw? Someone’s gonna bring my car around to the studio around lunch. No flaw.”

“No, no. I’ll take you home.” It’s the least I can do, it’s your car after all. “Seriously, I can’t believe you did this.” Shaking my head in disbelief, wandering around the car.

I hope he isn’t trying to buy my affections…

“Totally worth it to see the look on your face. Shall we?” He held the keys out for me to take, the smile back on his face.

The entire drive there felt like a dream. On the way, Ed smirked, pushing the button that brought the top down, cackling like a child as the wind blew our hair around. He cranked the radio and sang loudly along. Halfway there it hit me.

“Ed…where’s your guitar? Did you leave it at the studio or take it home?”

“Mmm? Oh, no, it’s at the studio. I’ve another back in my room.”

The day was a fairly easy one. Mostly us cutting down the song list. There was our fair share of arguing about what should stay and what should go.

“Cut it, it doesn’t fit.”

“What do you mean it doesn’t fit?! That’s the point of the album!”

“It’s too different sounding than the rest of them! Cut it. It doesn’t work. That’s like trying to make peanut butter, bologna, mayo and cheese work. Leave it off. You want a good sandwich, everything different, but complementary.”

“Fine. You win. We’ll leave it off.”

We ended up ordering sandwiches because the analogy really seemed to work so by lunch that’s all the two of us could think about. It seemed like he could practically unhinge his jaw by the way he inhaled it. Not in a gross, starving animal way but in a four bites and it was gone way.

I found out his hotel wasn’t too far from my second job. No wonder he picked my bar. It was the closest. We said our goodbyes and I drove off, grabbing a quick dinner and a change of clothes before going into work. It seemed like it was gonna be an uneventful night. Which suited me fine. I still made plenty of tips, even on slow nights.

I wasn’t surprised in the least when Ed strolled through the door, sitting down at the bar.

“Hey there, can I have a pint?”

“What happened to spending time apart?” I knew he was going to show up but I couldn’t miss a chance to give him a hard time.

“I’m not here for you.” He thanked me for the beer and I just stared at him as he sipped it. “I’m here to make sure the psycho doesn’t come in here and cause a scene. So it’s not a social visit. It’s a mission.”

“Ed, you really don’t have to do that. I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time. I’m a grown up-” Okay Jac well that’s debatable, “- not some damsel in distress.”

The door swung open, clanging loudly against the wall, drawing everyone’s eyes to go to the door. I felt my stomach drop when Dylan strolled through the door like he owned the place. Snapback firmly planted on his head, tight black muscle shirt and jeans.

Oh this is going to be bad…

#ed sheeran #ed sheeran fanfic #ed sheeran fanfiction #ed sheeran smut #celebrity fanfic

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ediblenapkin-moved · 6 years

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That's the Thing About Dreams- Chapter 5

A/N: CHAPTER 2 CHAPTER 2 CHAPTER 2-

So hey! I’m back, and it’s time for cHAPTER MOTHERFIPPITY 2-

Anyways. This is gonna be either fun, or a complete and utter pain in the neck to write (my bet’s on the latter��). Who knows, though? (Future me. that’s who. future me what’s your status) (future iteration 1- i am not doing well. i am having small difficulties. oh my i did not spell that right what is wrong with me what time is it) (translation: it is 10:26 PM, i am covered in mosquito bites and this story is a pain.) (future iteration 2- i took a break. it’s a whole new day… and I’m ending the chapter. why? because me, that’s why. chapter 2’s gonna be in at least 3 separate pieces… and chapter 3???? hahahaha yeah that’s gonna be in at least 3 too. at least. i’m not even gonna try for ch4. not yet.)

Edit: I thought this chapter was gone today. So far, I’ve been writing all these little shits offline, google docs, you know? Well, today I got online- and when it went to sync my offline changes… three of eight documents I’d created/edited offline had vanished. Ofc, this scared me to no end- these things weren’t fun to figure out, in terms of all the little pieces and bits- and I was flipping out. I thought I was going to have to rewrite at least three different stories.

Thankfully, I waited a little bit and they reappeared. Which is good. But that was terrifying…

But now I'm on mobile. I just gotta mess with the formatting every damn time I go to post... I don't know if it's better or worse this way.

Enjoy.

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The first thing Joey was aware of was that his head was pounding.

“What hit me…?” He groaned, slowly pushing himself up. Once he was standing, he put a hand to his head. The throbbing was going away, but not fast enough.

He shut his eyes, waiting for it to go away. It didn’t, but it became manageable.

He finally reopened his eyes, looking around the small room- and quickly stepping out of the pentagram. It hurt to look at for some reason- the pulse in his head got worse even thinking about it.

He found himself picking up the axe, which, oddly enough, was now leaning against one of the coffins… and he knew he hadn’t left it there as he’d passed out. Which meant someone had been here and they moved his axe… but was that all they did?

Joey sighed. It wasn’t helping anyone to ask all these questions that- at the moment at least- had no answers. With that in mind, he looked towards the closed door in front of him.

Guess I’ve got no choice now… I’ve got to keep moving. Keep moving forward…

He chopped the boards off the next door and started walking.

Another stairwell. This one proudly displayed a little sign that read UTILITY SHAFT 9. As he walked down, a board collapsed and fell from the ceiling- nearly causing Joey to slip and fall down the stairs. Thankfully, he caught himself.

As soon as he reached the bottom step, he looked up- and another line greeted him- HE WILL SET US FREE- scrawled next to a smaller version of the cutouts that were everywhere. The little shelf was filled with candles, and cans of bacon soup, some closed, some open and poured in bowls. A banjo was leaning next to the shelf, slightly dusty.

He walked further in, noting that most of the shelves were in a similar state to the first- except one had another cassette tape. He clicked play.

“He appears from the shadows to rain his sweet blessings upon me. The figure of ink that shines in the darkness. I see you, my savior. I pray that you hear me. Those old songs, I still sing them. For I know you are coming to save me. And I will be swept into your final loving embrace. But, love requires sacrifice. Can I get an amen?”

The tape clicked off, and Joey frowned. He made to step back-

“I said, can I get an amen?”

He spun around- and stopped.

Sammy Lawrence- his voice- it had just been here, right behind him. Joey was sure of it- he was here. Somewhere.

After a minute of silence, Joey took a deep breath and kept going. He’d never in his life heard the songwriter like that- and it was genuinely creepy. It was wrong, it was too calm, it was too… off.

By nature, he tended to be loud, impatient, and was easily distracted at times. He was also an amazing composer- the studio’s only composer. With him around, there was no need for another. Sammy worked best alone, but made an exception for the lyricist- who, at first, he’d shown no mercy to. But eventually something had happened- and they were able to be in the same room and actually talk to each other.

Joey reached the next hallway- and stopped. It was flooded with ink. Knee high at least, and it looked positively repulsive. After taking a moment to sigh- his shoes and socks had finally been dry when he’d woken up- he stepped in and began wading to the other side.

And then, halfway down the hall, he heard muttering. Whispering- and then a dark figure clad in white overalls appeared, walking past the doorway- carrying a Bendy cutout under its arm.

The voice, while quiet- was unmistakable.

“Lawrence? Lawrence! What the hell-” He pulled himself through the rest of the hall as fast as he could, nearly jumping out of the ink to turn the corner the songwriter had vanished around-

Only to see a dead end… and the Bendy cutout sitting in front of a pentagram scratched on the wall.

Joey looked around, noting the trail of ink- but where the hell had he gone?

The voice in his head whispered, It’s got something to do with this ink. It’s everywhere, and that’s unnatural… ‘Who needs that much ink anyways?’ Something is really off with all this.

It’s not right…

He turned around, noticing a closed metal gate- much like the ones that had penned him in upstairs- and a panel next to it, featuring three blinking lights.

Seems like the gate needed power.

He found himself searching for the three different switches- two of them were back down the flooded hall, and after coming back through it for the third time he sat down, took off his shoes, then wrung out his socks. It was a pointless move- there was ink everywhere, and it was more than likely he was gonna be covered in it at some point, and more than just knee high or waist high- probably neck high or above head.

He slipped his slightly less soaked socks back on, then his shoes. He stood and walked over to the switchboard- all three lights were on. He threw the switch.

With a rumble and a lot of groaning, the metal gate slowly lifted- and just as it clicked into place, a low moan sounded- followed by the sound of a light flicking on.

Joey walked closer to the boarded up doorway- seriously, what was up with all these boarded up areas- and listened, but there was nothing else. Quickly, he hacked his way through the wood, and walked in.

The music department kind of looked like shit at the moment.

Ink puddles scattered everywhere, only a few candles- god it was dark- and most of the lights were off. Looking around, Joey sighed before noticing the tape next to the sign- in the dark, it was hard to see, but this tape was labelled- Lawrence. He turned it on.

“So first this Ink Machine is installed over our heads. Then it begins to leak. Three times last month we couldn’t even get out of our department because the ink kept flooding the stairwell. The solution? An ink pump to drain it periodically. Now I have this ugly pump switch right in my office. People in and out all day. Just what I needed. More distractions. These stupid cartoon songs don’t write themselves, you know.”

Now that sounded like Sammy…. the stairwell, right. Turning around, Joey walked to the stairs- and what do you know? It was flooded. The main power switch sat on the wall to the right, though- thankfully. He threw the switch, hearing the clicking of lights turning on- then wincing as the room suddenly filled with harsh light.

And then, the sound of ink dripping filled the room.

He turned, and walked back into the main room-

And a glob of ink dropped from the ceiling, forming into a humanoid shape.

Almost instantly, it swiped at Joey, who raised the axe and swung back.

Only one of them made their mark.

The body- he assumed- melted, and returned to a regular puddle of ink.

And then there were more.

Before he got time to think, he was fighting the inky creatures as best he could- he wasn’t a perfect aim with the axe- but eventually the last one took a hit and vanished, leaving Joey, panting, alone in the room as music began to play- and as a metal gate began to open.

And, finally, he got a chance to think, and a chill ran down his back.

Those things… weren’t right.

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A/N: jesus fuckin shit this is gonna be hard

i just rewatched someone play through it… fuck. I THOUGHT I WAS DONE SHORTCUTTING CRAP-

Nope. Apparently not. Sorry, suckers, but we’re shortcutting the hell out of this chapter… and Chapter 3. Saying it now so you don’t wonder, because no way in hell am I writing out that entire fucking annoying ass errand list. The Angel can go suck a lemon.

(Am I reading too many fics these days…? I’m actually not swearing as much as I usually do. wow. thanks for the influence, fics.)

I can already tell this fic, if it gets finished porplery, (porperly????? pfft), will be about 8 chapters minimum. so yeah. probably around 12 or 14…. excluding bullshit…

Is it crazy that I’m already looking forward to transcribing Chapter 3? Yes? No? Maybe, so? (hahahahhahahahahahahahahahahaahahah sorry)

next up: cutouts. why.

#that's the thing about dreams chapter #that's the thing about dreams #batim #fanfiction #animator reversal au #my writing #writing tag

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8bityeol · 7 years

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Maude | 3

summary - A chance meeting with a mysterious stranger changes your life for the better or worse?

Crime - violence - adult themes || smut in later chapters || reuploaded

"Have a drink, you look thirsty," Detective Oh pushed the glass towards you. The liquid swished in the glass and threatened to spill over.

You shook your head, "It's alright; I'm not thirsty."

"That's alright," He said. "You know why we brought you in?"

You shook your head again; it seemed to be the only thing you could do. "No, not really." You replied forcing a faint smile on your face.

He raised is eyebrows in entertainment, "Really? Where were you last night."

You cleared your throat, "The Magio."

He clapped his hands as though he was congratulating a three-year-old. "Good girl. Pray tell, what happened last night?"

Your gaze shifted from his face to the glass. Staring at his face was too much. He had that gaze of a man hardened by his job, and to make matters worse his smile never wavered. It was as if he had you already.

"The Magio reopened," You answered.

His hand made a continue motion, "What next?"

"Someone stole some pieces," You said. "Two pieces."

He nodded, "That's right, the Santa De Cruz and La Rose. You don't happen to know these do you?"

"I know of them," You answered. "They're very...beautiful, fine works."

"I know right," He said. "Too bad they got stolen, they're worth so much.A couple of millions I guess."

You nodded in agreement.

"When something like this happens, we look over any footage the museum has and believe me, there's a lot! About ten hours worth of footage, from different areas too," He leant back on his chair. "We'd been at it for nine hours when we found something...wanna guess what it was?"

"Listen, officer, I know what you saw but it doesn't mean anything," You said. "I have no idea who that man was, he just approached me."

"But isn't it weird you both looked at the two pieces that were stolen. Didn't you point at the La Rose sculpture?"

You nodded, "I did, but I just wanted information from him; he said he was into art."

"Don't you think it's suspicious, the two pieces you both looked at were gone in the next five hours."

"Yes, I know it's odd but-"

He narrowed his eyes, "Ok so, you didn't 'steal' the art but let's say you're the accomplice."

You could feel the tears pricking at your eyes, what if they put you in jail? Could you even survive a night in jail?

"Officer, I-I have no motive to steal art...I don't do things like this," Your voice was trembling as you tried to hold back the onslaught of tears. "I was just there at the wrong time. All I've ever wanted to do was write articles, not steal art."

"Boohoo, spare me the sob story," He said dropping the eerie smile for once. "We both know it's the money, with that amount of money you could move out of your shoddy apartment. Take trips to Paris for fun."

"Officer, I don't have anything to do with this," You said. "All I wanted to do was write my article."

He was not moved by slightest at the sight of your tears trailing down your face. He thought it's was an act you thought to yourself.

"Where are the pieces?"

"I don-"

"I said where are the pieces!" He roared, slamming his hand down onto the table. The glass tipped over and sent a stream of water down the edge of the table. "You're looking at two years in jail miss."

"I want to leave," You sobbed into your hands. You were shaking like a leaf. "P-please, just..."

His laughter filled the room, "You can leave anytime you want, you're not arrested but best believe I'll be getting a warrant...you're going down and I hope you have a lawyer."

You felt Detective Oh's gaze running down the length of your body as you stood. He had you shaken and he loved it. "Don't leave town," He said, the moment you gripped the door handle. "You don't want your face in the media. You'll have your everyone own piece on the Chronicle."

"I won't," Your voice was meek and barely above a whisper.

You walked out the station feeling as though everyone's gaze was directed at you. Did they all think you were criminal? Your thoughts moved to the Chronicle, what would they think. Nearly everyone there knew you'd been at the museum, but to see you being escorted out of the premises by two officers? That was something else in it's own entirety. You'd walked between the officers, and kept your eyes glued to the floor in order to avoid the questioning stares.

You couldn't go back to the office, not when the when the building was creating theories. As you began the journey to the train station, you decided to look at your phone. the screen was lit with a notification telling you about five new messages and ten missed calls. You promptly switched off your phone and threw it into your bag.

Maybe it was time for a new occupation you'd thought to yourself, a brand new start altogether. Surely the Chronicle wouldn't welcome a potential accomplice with open arms. Maybe you could write a book, you could write under a pen name that no one would trace back to you. You could move altogether and start a new life.

You'd hadn't the black Range Rover trailing behind you until the car stopped in front of you and the back door was swung open.

"Museum girl," The voice said.

Your eyes widened. How did he find you? You kept your head down and began to quicken your steps. You'd been weaving through the crowds when you felt a large hand grab your wrist. You attempted to wring your wrist free but he was much stronger.

"I know you're scared, but I want to help you," He said.

You whisked around, "Help? You want to help me." The words flew like venom from a snake."You have ruined my life, do you know that? I can't go to work, I can't even think straight!"

"I'm-"

"Shut up," You hissed. "I've never hated anyone more than I've done now. Why did you choose me? why did you wake up one day and decide to ruin my life? Why me?"

To staring passerby's the conversation looked like a lover's spat. Noticing the attention, Chanyeol lowered the brim of his black cap, "Let's talk in the car."

You shook your head, "I'm going home, please leave me alone."

"You don't think they're there already, looking through your things, planting camera's around your apartment?" He said.

You remember the card, you'd placed it on your bedside in full view. "You're lying."

"I'm not lying," He said. "They had the warrant hours ago. Just let me help you."

"No...you're lying," Your vision was blurry and your voice was barely above a whisper. "You won't help."

"I'm sorry, I didn't think they'd hound you down like this," He said.

Somehow you found yourself being lead to the car. He opened the door and ushered you inside before closing it behind himself. In front of you sat the man you'd remembered from the museum, the one that had approached Chanyeol. The man's was illuminated by his iPad and he'd only looked up to glare at you.

"Next time you feel like talking to a girl, don't do it before we act," He said with his eyes trained on the screen.

"Shut up Soo, I know I fucked up," Chanyeol's voice is strained.

You peered at the front mirror in order to get a view of the driver, but all you could see was a pale skin. You were promptly back to staring at your hands when sharp eyes appeared in the mirror and you swore you could hear a chuckle.

Chanyeol leant forward and grabbed the water bottle next to Soo, who you're sure the name was a nickname.

"Water?" he offered.

You took the bottle from him, "Thanks," you said.

You twisted the cap open and placed the brim to your parched lips. The cool liquid flowed down your throat in record time. It felt good to drink it, you'd been far too scared to even touch the glass of water Detective Oh had offered you.

You screwed the cap back on and placed the bottle by your side.

"Where are you from?" Soo asked.

You were surprised, he didn't seem like the type to initiate contact with people. Especially you considering the look he'd given you.

"I'm from Eastbank," You answered.

"Hmm, I can't say I've ever heard of it," He said. "Is it nice there?"

You looked to Chanyeol for answers, but he was busy staring off into the window. His face was knitted with an emotion you couldn't quite put your finger on.

You turned your attention back to Soo. "No, not really. It's quite small, that's why I moved here."

Soo nodded, "I've never been one for small towns, too many people know each other."

A chill runs down your back at his comment. you knew it wasn't a light hearted comment and he'd definitely wanted you to know that too.

"Uh yeah ... you're right" You said.

As you stared at Soo, the outlines of his body began to blur ever so slightly. You'd thought you'd forgotten your glasses at one point but then you touched the frames.

"So how's the job then?" He continued.

You blink twice, and your tongue feels heavy. "It's...al..right."

Why is everything turning you asked yourself.

"Nice to know."

His words rang through your mind like bells. "What...did..you."

"Shh." He said.

A/N

Good bless what would’ve been a great series if only I hadn’t forgotten what happened next.....

@catching-the-galaxies

#exo scenarios #chanyeol scenario #chanyeol angst #chanyeol au #exo au #exo series #chanyeol series #kpop scenario #kpop series #kpop au #chnayeol #exo

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btsishere · 7 years

Text

Limerence

Member: Jungkook

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 1733

Description: Limerence (n): the state of being infatuated with another person.

Grey.

That was the color you saw before you met him. The dull and murky color clouded everything that once shone brightly.

Flipping through your sketchbook, you heaved a sigh and abruptly closed it. Your artwork once was lustrous with watercolors, colors that reflected the rainbow perfectly. Only to be replaced with lack of inspiration and meaning; only drawing to get the classwork done.

The day was dragging on slowly, just like the other days. Nothing inspired you. Nothing screamed, “Draw me!” And you just didn’t know what to do.

Today, you were at a new cafe that opened up just a few weeks ago. It was conveniently located just right between your college and the library, so you occasionally stop by when you’re feeling particularly stressed or ambivalent.

Taking a sip of the iced caramel macchiato placed in front of you, you turned on your phone and started aimlessly scrolling through Tumblr.

New picture of Eunwoo! Liked. Aesthetic coffee shop photo? Reblogged. Pen-pineapple-apple-pen? Laughed.

This went on a bit longer, until a voice broke you out of your preoccupied state. “Is this seat taken?”

Who said that?

You looked up, only to be faced with one of the most striking person you have ever seen. He couldn’t have been much older than you, and yet he looks so refined. HIs jawline was sharp-sharper than most. His brown eyes were alluring, eyes that could be gentle as a feather or stern as a rock. His hair was a chocolate brown, perfectly swept across his forehead and framing his face so well.

He was beautiful.

“N-No…You can sit there I don’t mind. Here, let me move some of my stuff out of the way,” you stuttered, still in shock at the beautiful stranger out in front of you.

Quickly, you stuffed your phone back into your pocket and shuffled all of your stuff into a pile of paper and watercolors in front of you-not wanting to burden the man even more.

Chuckling, he sat down and introduced himself. “Thank you. I’m Jungkook by the way. Is the cafe always this full?”

Jungkook. What a nice name. “A-Ah it’s no problem. I’m Y/N. And to answer your question, yes,” you laughed.

He smiled. “That’s a pretty name, Y/N. I’m assuming you’re an art major?” Jungkook asked, pointing to the pile of papers.

Blushing, you nodded. “Kind of…I am an art major, yes, but I feel like I’m losing that spark. I don’t know, things are kind of complicated right now.”

Concerned, Jungkook opened his mouth to speak, until a boy rushed into the café and grabbed Jungkook.

“Ah Jungkookie!~ I finally found you! Come on, we’ll be late for Hoseok’s dance competition!” The boy spoke. He was tall, just a little bit taller than Jungkook. Also, he looked older, but not by much. His hair was an almond color, with wispy bangs just barely reaching his eyebrows. He was breathtakingly beautiful also, with his adorable rectangular smile; but he didn’t have that same spark Jungkook has.

“Oh, right,” Jungkook spoke as he got up and pushed the chair in, “Y/N, please excuse my friend Taehyung here.” Jungkook then pointed to the assumed stranger, “Taehyung”, as to which this “Taehyung” flashed his million dollar smile. “I hope I can see more of you.”

“My college isn’t too far away from here, a 5-10 minute walk at most. I’ll be here most of the time after my classes,” you began to speak in a hushed tone. “Maybe we can meet up sometime…”

Jungkook, looking at you with admiration in his eyes, smiled. “Sure.”

Jungkook then proceeded to get up out of his seat and pushed the chair in. Walking over to Taehyung, he flashed you one quick look and whispered, “By the way, I know. You’re in my art class.” Then left, leaving a trail of his musky cologne.

Walking to school on that crisp Monday morning, you noticed the vivid colors that swirled around you. The fall foliage was breathtakingly beautiful; colors of mahogany and shades of orange danced around that clear morning.

You hated it.

You hated how the vibrant hues mocked your barren canvas; how the tints of the trees produced greater works of art than your sketchbooks.

Quietly approaching your art class, you found a spot at the back of the classroom; reserved and isolated from the distractions that lurked the classroom. Shuffling ever so quietly, you sat down at the corner and begin unpacking your art supplies.

Since nobody else was sitting near you, you assumed it would be okay for your bag to be placed on the chair. However, right when you placed your bag down, you felt a sudden presence around you; someone has tapped your shoulder.

“May I sit here?”

You froze. You knew that voice; that voice that enticed you under a spell, that voice whom you’ve heard on Saturday, at the coffee shop. It was Jungkook.

Scrambling, you hastily cleared the seat with your bag and set the item beside you. Looking down, you motioned the now empty seat to Jungkook, flustered and embarrassed.

Chuckling, Jungkook sat down on the empty chair. “You know, you don’t have to be so nervous around me. Relax. When you talk to me, imagine as if we were back at that coffee shop,” he beamed. “Speaking of coffee, do you want to grab some during the lunch break?”

You smiled. “Sure.”

Those days that were once filled with gloom and agony were then gone. Your calendar was filled with outings with the boy from the coffee shop. Day by day, month by month, you began to feel this incredulous feeling you have never felt before.

Often times, you would bring your sketchbook along with you. The papers that were once empty and lifeless became filled and glowed with the presence of Jungkook that was painted onto them.

The shading of the darkness and the bright hues of the sunlight gave you a perfect opportunity to capture the beauty of the latter onto the sketchbook.

The dullness that once ruled over your life was gone, and you began to see the true beauty of the world.

You fell into a state of infatuation, limerence, they call it. But you didn’t know what to do. Everyday, you fell more in love with the man with the charismatic personality.

You began to live and breathe Jungkook.

This feeling of infatuation was a strange and foreign feeling for you, since no one has ever sparked such a burning interest inside of you. It was like a sudden switch that went off inside of you; a light switch some might say. However, there is one key difference between a light switch and the switch inside of you: there is no end.

Light switches often burn out after an abundant amount of uses. It can get turned off and on, depending on how the person may want to adjust the lighting. But, your switch, the switch for Jungkook, it never goes out. The passion and love goes on, like a candle that never burns out. A lamp that never runs out of oil.

No, your love for the ethereal boy will never burn out. You were sure of that.

It wasn’t until that fateful Friday in December, a day that would forever change your world and your view of it.

3 days before…

Current Date: Monday, December 11, 2017

It started as a day like any other, you were sleepy and quite groggy in your English class. Hastily taking notes, you barely retrieved any important information due to the fact that you spent all night rewatching “Friends”, which was a big mistake.

Finally, the bell rung and you sighed and gathered all your belongings. Although you were feeling quite dull and tiresome, you walked with a little pep in your steps due to the fact that your next class was art, a class that you shared with Jungkook.

You always sat next to him and thus you created a tendency to peer over his shoulder and examine what art works he was creating. It was exhilarating to see the vibrant colors beautifully blend into a majestic painting. On other days, you would be making pottery and it was always a pleasure to see Jungkook’s toned arms work on the clay and create a vase or bowl as if it was magic.

Thinking about the male, you continued your way to your class happily.

However, something was off. Jungkook never came.

He didn’t walk through the classroom doors like he usually would. There was no Jeon Jungkook shuffling his way next to you. There was no Jeon Jungkook smiling and laughing with you. There was no Jeon Jungkook whining about how boring the class is.

“Maybe he’s just sick,” you thought. “Yeah, maybe he’ll come in the next day.”

He never did.

He didn’t come in that day, or the next day, or the following day. He never came at all.

Current Date: Friday, December 15, 2017

Exasperated, you tried thinking about everybody he hangs out with. Ah! He’s friends with Taehyung, right? And you could’ve sworn he was with Jimin before.

And thus, that’s what brings you here, standing in front of Jimin. You wandered aimlessly, looking for Taehyung but you failed to find the male. However, as you were moping around, you were able to find Jimin due to his prominent orange hair.

“Jimin, may I speak with you?” You softly spoke out.

Turning around, Jimin faced you. “Hm? Oh yeah, sure. What’s up Y/N?” He responded while walking to a more secluded area for the two of you to speak.

Following his lead, you reached out and said, “Have you seen Jungkook by any chance? Or maybe Taehyung?”

Furrowing his brows, Jimin looked at you in a confused manner. “You mean Jeon Jungkook? and Kim Taehyung?”

Your face immediately lit up and your cheeks began tinting to a dusty peach as the name “Jungkook” rolled off of Jimin’s tongue. “Yeah!” You exclaimed. “Jungkook’s in my art class and we’re friends…I think? Anyways, he never showed up since Monday and he’s not responding to my texts or calls either. I’m just really worried about him…”

“Y/N…” Jimin began. “Jungkook and Taehyung have been dead for 3 years.”

And your whole world shattered and began as grey once again.

A/N: This has been saved in my drafts for a long time… I’m sorry for the late post! I didn’t proofread this so please ignore any mistakes. I’m not entirely back but I would love to write more! I’m also running a Produce 101/Wanna One scenario blog so check it out here. Thank you for reading!

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feelsgood-anon · 7 years

Text

Eros - Bar AU Chapter 1, part 1

Disclaimer: This piece is a Mystic Messenger AU. It is heavily inspired by the American sitcom Cheers, a show centered around a Boston bar called Cheers and it’s regulars. Even though I have tried to keep as much of canon personalities with all the Mystic Messenger characters just remember that it is an AU and a few things may be different than in game or your headcanons. This has been fun to plan and I hope you find a bit of joy reading it!

PG13+ for swearin’ and boozin’.

Ch.1/2 | Ch. 2/2

Eros.

If you’ve never wandered to the outskirts of the downtown nightlife you’d think the name represented an establishment of finesse; a fancy restaurant, a classy gentleman’s club, a ritzy cocktail lounge.

But throw open the doors to the aging building during the late midday and you’d find yourself staring at a lavish open bar. You’d get a warm greeting from a handsome bartender and there’d be an air of familiarity amongst all the patrons.

You’d never know that you’d love it until you stepped into it and everyone welcomed you back, happily shouting your name.

Names.

That’s right...

There’s always a good story behind a name.

A hum of a cheerful tune echoed throughout the empty space. It was 3:15 p.m. and Zen busied himself wiping down the bar top. Sure they did work to clean up every night before locking the doors but for some reason the silver-haired man would always pass over the surfaces as soon as he walked in the next day. He double-checked the beer mugs to make sure the handles were turned at just the right angle where his hands could grab them quickly. Napkins? Check. Pretzels? Check. Receipt with the number from a gorgeous woman that had spent the entire night prior staring at him? He smiled at the legible digits and stuffed the piece into his back pocket. Check.

There was nothing more important to him in his current life than this bar but a date with a pretty lady on the weekend wasn’t far down on his list. He made a mental note to add her to the small bucket that kept the rest of the numbers he received every night in his office. It would be a shame if he were to not give this one a fair chance like the others.

His thoughts were interrupted by the chime of the bell above the door as another man stepped into the establishment. Was it already half-past three? Zen looked towards the wall clock and let out a dramatic gasp of surprise, “Red, you’re early in being late! What’s the occasion?” He pulled at two shot glasses to fill them up with whiskey, “Keep this up and you may get a promotion!”

The other male laughed a bit as he took off his jacket to sling along the coat rack near the entrance, “Seeing as I changed my schedule to come in at 3:30 p.m. instead of 3:00 p.m. I would like to point out that I am delightfully early for my shift.”

Red. His real name was Saeyoung Choi. He had bright shaggy red hair and eyes, protected by a pair of glasses, so golden they shone brightly like the sun rising in the morning but those same cheerful orbs held a bit of mischief that did well for him on the job. His usual attire? A yellow and red checkered button down and light wash jeans.

Zen slid one of the glasses down the bartop to meet Red’s hand as he passed by. It was tradition for them to share a shot before they officially opened the doors to the public so once they toasted each other they downed the liquor in seconds. “Where’s your brother? Don’t tell me he had to call off,” the man behind the counter furrowed a brow as he retrieved both glasses to wash them. “It may be the middle of the week but I still don’t like it if we both have to act as waiters as well.”

“Cool your pecs, boss. He’s just parking the car. I guess the eatery across the street is having some sort of shindig and the streets are loaded with vehicles. He’ll be here in a few seconds.” Red reached over the bar to grab at an apron to start tying it around his waist. They didn’t have a uniform of any kind but Zen was oddly particular about everyone having an apron. The man made his rounds of the space to turn on lights and make sure tables were set the way Zen liked it. “Hey, you remember about that person Duckie has coming in for an interview, yeah? What was her name?” His voice carried behind him as he had made his way to the back area where the pool tables and jukebox found their home.

Zen took a slight breath in as he had almost forgot about the interview. Could he be blamed? He was told about it the night before while he was chatting up with a busty blond at the bar, “Of course I remember! Her application is in my office. She was applying for...errr…”

“Waitstaff, boss. She’s applying to be a waitress.”

“Right! See? I remember! And you know how I feel about names around here, Red.” He shouted out towards the back hall.

“Yeah, you forget them easily so they have to leave it written down on a napkin, preferably with their number attached.” A cheeky grin was spread across Red’s face as he came back towards the bar, “Just make sure you act professional. Hopefully she’s not a looker so you won’t turn that charm on.”

Zen turned to protest but was distracted as the bell chimed once more, a man that looked identical to Red walking through the door, “This is utter bullshit. I had to park a block away in some weird parking lot. When are you going to buy that lot next door so we can have proper parking for this place, Zen? I hate having to always find a different place to leave the car.”

Zen chuckled slightly as he began to count the change in the register, “Not any time soon, Cannon, since I have to hire someone to help you. What would you prefer? Parking or a night off?”

Cannon. Saeyoung’s twin brother Saeran. He had the same bright hair but wore mint-colored contacts instead to make sure he wasn’t confused for the other sibling. His attitude was much less friendly as well, but was a hard worker. The normal attire for the guy consisted of a red V-neck t-shirt and a pair of black skinny jeans.

“Whatever.” Cannon mumbled as he too grabbed an apron to strap to himself, “Whoever is coming in, just hire her. She can’t be dumb enough to not be able to take orders. And if she is, it’s not my problem. I’m still taking a few nights off.” He stuffed a notepad along with a few pens into a pocket as he began to prep a few bowls for snacks, “Let her know to just stay out of my way since I don’t want to deal with her.”

Red walked around and pat his brother on the back, “Now now, you have to play nice! You’ll be training her, after all.”

“Like hell I will!”

“Boys boys, let’s not get ahead of ourselves now. I still want to interview her and if she’s not going to be a good employee then I’ll have to keep looking.” Zen closed the cash register, satisfied with the count, and looked towards the two, “I’m a pretty good judge of character so I’ll know within the first minute of meeting her if she will fit in with everyone around here!”

“You mean, within the first minute of meeting her you’ll know if you’ll fit into her?” Cannon growled out which sent Red into a fit of giggles. The twins never missed out on an opportunity to give Zen grief which the man didn’t quite know if he enjoyed or loathed. “Can I catch a break around here?” Their boss sighed as he made his way from behind the bar to walk to his office, “Just try to respect me around the potential new waitress, would yah?”

Both brothers waved him off and continued to perform their daily chores. The time passed pretty quickly as they bustled around and in no time Red had moved to switch the sign on the window from ‘Closed’ to ‘Open’. They rarely had people come in as soon as the wall clock twittered at 4:00 p.m. but today the red-headed bartender hadn’t even made it back to the bar before the door was swung open. He turned on his heels as he heard the bell and when he saw the face unfamiliar he gave a wide smile, “Welcome to Eros! What can we drown you with?”

The woman at the entrance gulped a bit at the abrupt welcome but gave Red a nervous smile, “Oh, hello. I’m not here to drink-”

“Then what are you here for? If you didn’t notice, lady, you’re in a bar.” Cannon leaned against the bartop and stared at her, “The pizza joint is across the street and we don’t hold any book club meetings here.” His brother closed his eyes for a moment even though his smile stayed steady, “Could you grab the celery from the cold storage, bro?”

The male rolled his eyes and pushed himself off to make his way towards the back as Red once again locked eyes with the girl, “I’m sorry about that, he woke up on the wrong side of the bed today. You were saying?”

She nodded as her attention was drawn back to the seemingly polite person who addressed her initially, “Yes...uhm...I have an interview in thirty minutes with...Zen?” She pulled a piece of paper out that had a name written along with a time and an address, “Sorry if I’m early. You know what they say: Early is on time, on time is late, and late is unacceptable!”

A smirk crossed his face as he took a good look at her, “Aye. I guess we are all an unacceptable lot around here, then!” He beckoned her in, “I’ll let Zen know you are here. Please, have a seat! Let me get you a drink, on the house. You deserve it for being ‘on time’.”

“Just water would be fine, if it’s no trouble.” She took a seat on one of the stools. Placing her bag on the surface in front of her she started to look around the establishment. From the outside of the building she was afraid that the inside would look just as run down. It was a pleasant surprise how well kept it had been when she entered. “Good to know you’d be a cheap date.” He placed a glass of water in front of her as he smiled.

“Excuse me?” Her fingers clutched at her bag a bit defensively at his comment, “What do you mean by that?” Red frowned slightly as he busied his hands with wiping a few glasses in front of him, “Water is free, you know. I was just making a joke...sorry if that offended yah.” Her cheeks blushed slightly, laughing nervously while mentally kicking herself for letting the comment fly over her head that way. “Right. No need for apologies, I’m just a bit nervous about the interview.”

He snapped his fingers and he walked away towards the other side of the bar, “Oh yeah! Which reminds me.” Climbing up on the edge he shouted towards the door in the back, “Hey boss! Your interview is here!” Red shot a thumbs up at the girl, the door to the office swinging open as Zen finally emerged with papers in his hand.

Her eyes widened a bit as she finally laid eyes on the tall man. He was just as attractive as everyone said he was; sharp facial features, eyes kind even though they were a bright red, his physique obviously well kept...but what her gaze fell on were his clavicles. His light-blue dress shirt had a few buttons opened exposing the top of his chest. Zen claimed he had to do it since it got so hot as he ran around but everyone knew he did it for the attention he received. A sly grin crossed his face as he noticed the girl’s slight gawk in his direction.

The shirt works everytime.

“Hey! Welcome to Eros! Thanks for taking some time to meet with me! I’m Zen, the owner of this place,” He walked into the bar area and leaned on the counter in front of her as he held his hand out for a shake, eyes sparkling, “Nice to meet you!”

She cleared her throat as he approached, giving him a big smile before meeting his hand to shake firmly, “No, thank you for giving me this chance mister...Zen?” He shook his head in major disapproval at the title she had placed on him, “Please, just Zen. I’m not the type to deal with those formalities. Nice handshake, by the way.” His eyes never left hers but he had noticed she didn’t drop his hand throughout the entire exchange. Pulling her arm back she laughed a bit nervously, “Oh, thank you. I’ve always been told to have a confident handshake when meeting others.”

Zen mused to himself as he finally broke the eye-contact to look down to her resume, “That’s good advice. So tell me a bit about yourself. More importantly, why should I hire you?”

The woman let in a deep breath. She had been mentally preparing herself for a few days now and had plenty to say but sitting in front of this man who she found so beautiful caused her mind to go blank. “Well. I’m currently a student at SKY University. I’m working on my Masters in Sociology,” Her words came out in such a flustered jumble that Zen looked up from the paper to concentrate on what she was saying. Even so she continued on, voice gaining confidence and becoming more bubbly as she ran through her speech, “I want to work as a social worker! I love being around people and I’m very empathetic. I have some work experience, as you can see,” She leaned forward and pointed towards the middle of her resume, “I helped at my uncle’s bookstore while I was in my first years of University. He always said I had a natural talent for customer service! I can get along with almost anyone and I’m really good at calming down customers that are upset!”

Zen had placed his elbows on the bartop, his right arm bending upwards to prop his chin as his body leaned to the side. A soft smile was settled on his lips as she rattled on about herself in such an animated manner. This woman, he thought, is so charming. He found himself lost in her words and eventually stopped paying attention to what she was actually saying. He was brought back from his daze when she suddenly placed both hands down on the counter to give him a look of determination, “You should hire me because I will be the hardest working employee you’ll meet. I will do whatever it takes to learn the skills I need and I will learn them quickly. I will not disappoint, that I promise you.” She was breathing a bit heavier since she had fallen into a passionate speech towards the end.

She’s bright, like a little ray of sunshine.

“Sunny.” he cooed out.

The girl sat back in her chair with a look of confusion on her face, “W-what?”

“Sunny!” He exclaimed louder so that the twins could hear him. Red gave a few claps and ran over to the girl, “Hey! Congrats! You can call me Red! I’m the other bartender other than the big boss here.” She looked between the two still trying to figure out what they were going on about, “I don’t...understand…”

“Zen gave you a name, means you’re hired,” Cannon came around the side and got close to her ear, “So don’t fuck this up. I want a weekend off.”

Red shooed his brother off and pat Sunny on the back, “That’s Cannon. He’s the other waiter here so you’ll be working with him a lot. He’ll warm up to you eventually!” She nodded slowly and looked to Zen, “So...I have the job?”

He laughed a bit and crumpled up her resume, “Yeah! I like you and I think having you around will be great for the place! Welcome to the family, Sunny!” She put on a big smile and held her hand out once more, “You won’t regret hiring me! But, my name is-”

“Sunny. Your name is Sunny. First rule I have in this place is you go by the name I give you. Call it a quirk of mine.” Zen looked up as he heard the jingle of the bell above the door, welcoming the customers in with a bright smile. She looked behind her and watched as the two people made themselves comfortable at one of the tables, Cannon lazily making his way over to tend to them. “But why would you use a name that isn’t real?”

He directed his attention back to her, chuckling a bit, “It is a real name! It’s the name that I, Owner Zen, have given you! You should be honored!” She opened her mouth to protest some more but was interrupted by Cannon barking out an order, “Two scotch rocks, boss.” Zen nodded and pulled two glasses from below the bar with one hand, grabbing a bottle of liquor with the other, “So when can you start, babe?”

She pursed her lips at the question, moreso at the term of endearment, “Whenever you’d like to train me, of course. I’ve never worked in a bar and don’t know a lot about alcohol so I’m sure you’d like to spend some time going over basics.”

“Are you free tonight? The weekdays are normally not too busy so I can spend some one-on-one time with you. Sound good?” He flashed a smile at her, “You said you pick things up quickly and I’d like you to be good for the weekend.”

Sunny nodded and stood up to straighten out her shirt, “I’d love to start! And what do I call you, since everyone has nicknames?” Zen placed the two drinks on a tray, beckoning to Cannon, “You can call me Zen, or these guys call me boss. I don’t mind you calling me sweetie or babe either, your choice.” He shot her a wink as he threw a hand towel over his shoulder. She smirked at the act, leaning over the counter to get closer to him, “What’s your real name?”

“That I will not tell you. The only person in this bar that knows everyone’s real names is me. Red knows a few, since he handles the tabs alongside me. Don’t bother asking, it’s considered impolite around here.” He pointed a finger at the twin as he approached to pick up the drink order, “Even Cannon doesn’t know my real name!”

“I don’t care if I know your real name as long as I get my paycheck,” the waiter spit out his words with apathy, “Throw a bowl of pretzels on here, boss. Stop flirting with the new girl.”

Zen did as he was asked but kept his eyes on Sunny, reaching behind himself to grab an apron and threw it at her, “Let’s get started, then! I’ll give you the grand tour.”

******************

#mystic messenger #Eros Bar AU #mystic messenger fic #mm #mystic messenger AU

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Radio Abel, Season Five

Part 1 of 3

PHIL CHEESEMAN: We're really going to do this?

ZOE CRICK: Yeah. Yeah, I think we've got to, don't you?

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Yeah. It's uh, it's what this show's always been about, in a way, even when it was Radio New Tomorrow. ... Sorry, I was just waiting for you to say what it was always about. "You mean fart jokes and bad puns?"

ZOE CRICK: I'm not, though. [laughs] You're right. This is what it's about. This is why we always did it. Well, to be honest, it was why you did it. I was forced into it by the Permanent Advisory Council. I thought it was a waste of time, but you were right and I was wrong. ... Phil?

PHIL CHEESEMAN: [laughs] Sorry. Just savoring the moment. I'm not going to hear that again in a while. All right, ci-ti-zens! We'll be back with more right after this.

ZOE CRICK: That song certainly is appropriate. Because the thing is, listeners, we're... well, we're not saying goodbye, but we're saying goodbye for a little while.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: We know what's going on back home, with Abel and New Canton. We know that the Ministry's saying terrible things about Abel – and none of it's true, none of it! After everything the people of Abel have sacrificed, all the times that Abel and New Canton together saved the whole country's collective asses -

ZOE CRICK: It's all lies. But lies get easy to believe if there's no one around the contradict them.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: So that's what we're going to do: contradict all those lies. We'll be back, citizens, giving Abel's side of the story. We're going to tell you the truth about what's really going on. We can't be shut down. We won't be. Until we're back, remember: don't believe everything you hear.

ZOE CRICK: Sorry, um, one more thing. While we're gone, we're going to leave this station broadcasting the transmissions we picked up around the country, because... well, mainly because Phil's a giant nerd, and doesn't like the idea of leaving dead air. [laughs]

But also because people should hear what other people are going through. Not the little carefully-selected snippets the Ministry lets you hear, but the real deal, raw and unedited.

So yeah. Keep listening. And we'll be back as soon as we can. Unless we die. [humorless laugh] Then we won't be back, but you know. Expect the worst and hope for the best. Anyway, take care of yourselves, and I'll try to take care of my idiot sidekick until we can both be with you again. This is Radio Cabel, out.

HUGH: Is it still on us, Eloise?

ELOISE: Yeah!

HUGH: A blue Ford Fiesta?

ELOISE: Of course it's a blue Ford Fiesta, you wazzock. You think they stopped to switch cars?

HUGH: It's zombies! They behave in unpredictable ways.

ELOISE: Hugh, it's not zombies!

HUGH: You hear these stories – zombies driving trains, zombies doing street theater. Who says they don't do high speed pursuits?

ELOISE: You don't hear stories about zombies driving trains. That was a dream you had. And the street theater zombies turned out to be art students doing an ill-advised performance art piece. It's militia from the last settlement. They saw all the supplies in the back of the van and they - [screams]

[gunshots, tires squeal]

HUGH: I still have to fix this bugger after the last time!

ELOISE: Concentrate on your driving!

HUGH: Do you know how hard it is to find camper van parts now? New tires, replacement headlights? [glass shatters] Windows?

ELOISE: I could radio ahead and get somebody to set a trap.

HUGH: Great. How close is your nearest contact?

ELOISE: Um... 150 miles.

HUGH: We ain't going to make it.

ELOISE: I've got a plan B, but you're not going to like it.

HUGH: What?

ELOISE: You know we started the vegetable garden on the roof again? The box is just big enough.

HUGH: Not my beetroot.

ELOISE: Sorry, love. Here, find a blind corner and I'll drop it. Just let me get into the back.

[tires squeal, gunshots]

HUGH: Get ready... now!

ELOISE: It's away.

HUGH: Good shot, dear.

ELOISE: I found a jar of pickled beetroot.

HUGH: It's not the same.

ELOISE: We've taken some time out of our busy schedule to have a catch up with you, the listeners, from this scenic spot. Where are we today, Hugh?

HUGH: I don't know, love. I was aiming for [?], but you wanted to turn left.

ELOISE: Yes, because I could see a roadblock in the distance.

HUGH: It weren't a proper roadblock. That was just kids having fun.

ELOISE: Like the last time, when kids were having fun with demolition explosives and nearly blew us off the road?

HUGH: I did worse myself, in my day.

ELOISE: That, I do believe. Whereas my childhood was split between science and the fine arts.

HUGH: You told me you used to post dog poo to people you didn't like!

ELOISE: And that was a fine art. Anyway, we need to update the listeners on what we've been doing.

HUGH: Right. You've been tinkering with your network, haven't you?

ELOISE: I have not been "tinkering" with it, I have been maintaining it. And Hugh has made some special modifications to the van to keep us on the road.

HUGH: Well, I painted it. I never got around to the other stuff.

ELOISE: Oh, I thought you did.

HUGH: It took a long time to do that camouflage pattern. It's three different colors.

ELOISE: I did at least one of them.

HUGH: And you did a superb job, dear.

ELOISE: So you won't notice us now when we park in the woods. But remember, we're also looking for your letters in every postbox we pass!

HUGH: I've still got my keys! [keys jingle]

ELOISE: We'll keep answering your agony aunt questions on the air, of course. But there's been a great demand for a certain new feature -

HUGH: Thanks for your suggestion, Lenny from Barnsley.

ELOISE: - to find out what that is, you'll have to tune in next time!

HUGH: You won't see it coming.

ELOISE: I notice what you did there.

ELOISE: Welcome back. Now, you know that Hugh and I have been providing our little agony aunt service on the show, and we're going to keep doing that.

HUGH: Except for what's-her-name.

ELOISE: Eh?

HUGH: The one that said -

ELOISE: Oh, yeah. Amelia, from a castle - not sure where – the answer to your question is no, it's not all right! It's never all right, and you are a bad person for even thinking about it!

HUGH: Thank you for your question.

ELOISE: I don't know where we find them. Seriously!

HUGH: Tell them about the thing.

ELOISE: Yes, right. See, Hugh and I always try to do something constructive with our time, to put something back into society. Well, we were talking the other day about all the stuff that's been lost.

HUGH: Horse racing. Hot lunches. Them times when the news is broadcasted live, and daft bugger starts waving in the background.

ELOISE: Yes. But we were talking about oral traditions. The myths and legends that have grown up in a place. The local stories that have been lost over time with nobody to pass them on.

HUGH: It's true. Zombies have just one oral tradition, and that's trying to bite you in the head.

ELOISE: So, we're going to compile and pass on the stories we hear along the way. Some from the books, and some from the locals. Think of it as a sort of backup to the cloud, where you, the listener, are the cloud.

HUGH: It won't be all that werewolf and St. George stuff. We've heard some good ones about screaming skulls and doors to other dimensions.

ELOISE: Hey, when did you hear those?

HUGH: It was that time when you went off the lady in Grimsby and I stayed with her husband.

ELOISE: You just drunk scrumpy and watched horror films on his video.

HUGH: They were documentaries.

ELOISE: They were not.

HUGH: You don't get to decide what stories get passed on, love. That's censorship.

ELOISE: I knew I was going to regret this.

HUGH: Pen-ger-sick. Pen-jer-sick. Penger-sick.

ELOISE: As soon as I saw that name, I knew I was going to have trouble with you.

HUGH: Who calls their castle Pengersick?

ELOISE: Mister and Misses Pengersick? There was a whole family. After his first wife died, Mister Pengersick remarried, and apparently the new wife was a wicked stepmother.

HUGH: It doesn't really say that.

ELOISE: It does! Now, normally, I would dismiss that kind of label as a patriarchal commentator trying to keep women down. But on this occasion, she did persuade him to have his son kidnapped and sold as a slave.

HUGH: I think that qualifies as wicked.

ELOISE: Then she poisoned her husband.

HUGH: Definitely wicked.

ELOISE: She shut herself in the castle, where she became covered in scales from all her poisons. She ended up chucking herself into the sea.

HUGH: Sounds like the best place for her.

ELOISE: And then the son, young Pengersick, became an enchanter. Rides about on a big horse thought to be demonic, feared by all.

HUGH: See, that's not what this area needs. Not after that business with the wicked stepmother and the scales.

ELOISE: Young Pengersick brings a Saracen lady, who shuts herself in the castle tower, and the love songs of the land are so beautiful that the fish all come to the surface to listen.

HUGH: Just like you, love.

ELOISE: I don't think "Suspicious Minds" quite measures up. Oh, one more thing: there are rumors of secret passages and an incredible treasure bricked up within the castle's walls. You want to go back and get it?

HUGH: Nah.

ELOISE: Me neither.

ELOISE: Oh, this one is definitely for you.

HUGH: Go on, then.

ELOISE: Roberta writes in from Penrith, and she says, "Dear Hugh and Eloise, I used to enjoy a sociable drink of an evening, often at the local pub. However, with living in an armored bunker covered in razor wire nine miles from the nearest town which is abandoned, it is no longer so easy to pop out for a quick one.

At first, I enjoyed the consequent health benefits, but lately I have experienced cravings for beer. In fact, I now often dream I am at a beer festival, walking from counter to counter without the correct tickets for the golden ale which is tantalizingly close but still just out of reach."

HUGH: She's got it bad.

ELOISE: "Are there still pubs? Do you drink yourself, and if so, where do you get it?"

HUGH: Well, Roberta, let me say: I feel your pain. A person can cope with many things, even the fall of civilization, as long as there is a warm booze around the corner and a couple of tenners in your pocket.

ELOISE: Yeah, apparently the comforting presence of your beloved is not enough.

HUGH: It's a different thing, dear. To answer your question, Roberta, to our knowledge, there still exist four fully-functioning pubs on the mainland. Three are in walled settlements, and the fourth is actually inside the Tower of London.

ELOISE: I thought your sudden interest in Anne Boleyn was suspicious.

HUGH: I'm still partial to a drink myself, but due to a number of bad experiences with these walled settlements, who often want to steal the van or shoot us, I get a carry-out these days.

ELOISE: I am partial to a small gin myself.

HUGH: To get any, you'll have to go on the road looking. Any off-license or supermarket will have been cleared out. I feel bad saying this, but I get my booze by breaking into people's houses.

ELOISE: Only dead people's houses.

HUGH: Yeah. Look for neglected gardens and peeling paint. And watch out. Often there's a zom or two trapped inside. But you might find a wine cellar, spirits, or even a small stash of agreeable home brew. [ELOISE coughs] Just remember to take it easy. You're not likely to be prosecuted for drunk driving anymore, but you don't want to put your vehicle in a ditch with the zoms closing in.

ELOISE: And you don't want to get to the stage where you talk total gibberish on the radio.

HUGH: Thank you, dear.

HUGH: Tell them that story about the well.

ELOISE: I'm driving. You tell it.

HUGH: We met a couple in that last place. What was it? [?]?

ELOISE: Yeah.

HUGH: Told us about this local well. And when you get married -

ELOISE: Hugh! Set the scene first!

HUGH: Uh, there's this well, and uh -

ELOISE: The woman -

HUGH: [sighs] Right. [?]

ELOISE: [?]!

HUGH: [?]. She built this well, and

ELOISE: She doesn't build the well! She travels the country performing miracles because she is so pure.

HUGH: Right.

ELOISE: And she settles by the well, and she plants four trees.

HUGH: Right.

ELOISE: And when she's dying -

HUGH: Right, right. She gets carried to the well, and they chuck her down it.

ELOISE: They don't chuck her down it.

HUGH: I know. But I'm fed up with this bloody story.

ELOISE: She blesses it, so that after a wedding -

HUGH: After a wedding, the first of the couple to drink from it become the master in that relationship.

ELOISE: Now tell the church bit. What?

HUGH: This couple get married, and he leaves her on the porch of the church and he runs to [?] well. Since he gets there first, he thinks he'll be the master. But she took a bottle of the well's water to the church.

ELOISE: Clever girl.

HUGH: And after a year, she falls in the well and dies.

ELOISE: I don't remember that bit.

HUGH: You must not have been paying attention, dear.

ELOISE: You catch us retracing our path on a B road in the middle of Dartmoor. We came here because Hugh wanted to see a place called Frenchbeer. And we turned around because -

HUGH: Look, it's just because of how much I paid that time in Paris!

ELOISE: Ah, yes! Our fifth anniversary. A big, romantic getaway, with all them dreamy bridges. Me, in a swishy red dress. A summer breeze blowing off the Seine. And Romeo here spends the whole weekend complaining about the price of his first beer.

HUGH: First and last beer.

ELOISE: So today -

HUGH: 75 francs. Nearly eight pound for the bottle. This was back in the 90s. It wasn't even a big bottle!

ELOISE: And we're still hearing about it today.

HUGH: He knew. With his stupid mustache. The way he looked at me! He knew! But they bring it to your table, don't they? So I'd already drunk it.

ELOISE: Although civilization has fallen, and the remaining humans scrabble for survival in the ruins, Hugh is still annoyed about how much he paid for a beer once.

HUGH: Oh, come on. Eight pounds.

ELOISE: What we must explain is that we are now not driving to this mysterious place called Frenchbeer because Hugh has refused to cross the river Dart.

HUGH: It's a collapsed bridge. It's not safe!

ELOISE: It's a collapsed bridge, rebuilt into a ford, which has many tire tracks visible across it, and is obviously safe.

HUGH: You don't know, Eloise. The van's got a bigger wheelbase, extra weight. We can't be sure.

ELOISE: Hugh is actually freaked out by a story we heard that the River Dart drowns one person every year.

HUGH: No, I'm not.

ELOISE: Supposedly, it calls out to them. Not many people around. Probably hasn't happened yet this year.

HUGH: Eloise -

ELOISE: River of Dart, river of Dart! Every year, thou claimest a heart!

HUGH: Stop that!

ELOISE: Hugh Caulfield, [imitates bubbles]. Come to my watery clutches! [imitates bubbles]

HUGH: Quit it!

[ELOISE laughs]

ELOISE: Well, it's been a day themed around two things: standing stones, and female sexuality.

HUGH: I thought it best to let her drive.

ELOISE: First, we went to the dancers. I think this was the furthest we've been from the van in two years. It was a long walk over the moor. Just the long grass, and the wind in our hair, remembering the freedom of all those wild places.

HUGH: I was sure we'd get killed.

ELOISE: You could have seen a zombie coming from miles away. We need to get away from the van sometimes for our mental health. And we found this lovely stone circle.

HUGH: Weren't exactly Stoneheng], though, was it? Barely two feet tall. Six inches for every mile we had to walk.

ELOISE: When we went to Stonehenge, you said it was too commercial.

HUGH: Oh, tell your story.

ELOISE: Hmm. Supposedly, one Sunday, 25 girls went out to dance on the moor, and a young man came by, so they started playing kiss-in-the-ring. He goes around, picks one, kisses her, then she joins up with him, and they go around again, until all the girls are joined up.

HUGH: I hope nobody had a cold sore.

ELOISE: But the girls became overcome by passion, forgot themselves, and just went crazy kissing him.

HUGH: 25 women.

ELOISE: And of course, he got scared and ran away, and they chased him, and they had nearly caught him, when they all got turned to stone. They say it was punishment for breaking the sabbath, but I think it was for expressing themselves as healthy young women.

HUGH: The other stone circle was better.

ELOISE: Oh yeah, Spinster's Rock! A neolithic burial chamber. One big stone on three uprights. Supposedly, the capstone weighs sixteen tons. Sixteen tons! And you know how it got there? Three energetic, unmarried ladies raised it one morning before breakfast. Shows what you can do when you don't give away your power to some husband.

HUGH: The book says "spinster" means spinner, like spinner of cloth. They could all have been married.

ELOISE: The book? Psshh! We've been to the source, here! I don't want to hear your patriarchal propaganda. I'm running with the wolves!

HUGH: But it's -

ELOISE: Shh!

ELOISE: We have a cautionary tale for you today, told to us by an armored woman on a motorbike.

HUGH: She said, "If you're going to wear armor and ride your motorbike at the same time, be sure to keep up your tire pressure."

ELOISE: She did say that, but that's not the cautionary tale.

HUGH: It's good advice, though.

ELOISE: No doubt. She told us a story about a plow boy who had to go into town to get his plow mended. In town, he met a butcher's boy, who scared him with stories. According to this butcher's boy, the devil would sometimes appear with his horns and tail in the lane beside Croydon Hill. The plow boy tried not to think about it while he was waiting for his plow to be mended.

HUGH: Which is hard, with the red hot furnace and all that infernal hammering.

ELOISE: Meanwhile, the butcher's boy got the hide of a freshly killed bullock with its head, horns, and tail, and headed to the lane. You can see where this is going.

HUGH: Perhaps you can also imagine the smell in there.

ELOISE: The plow boy set off for home, but in no time at all, he rushed back into town, shouting about how he had killed the devil! The townsfolk worked it out, and they rushed to the lane. There, the found a bullock's hide with a great big bloodstained gash in its skull, but no sign of the butcher boy. Do you know why?

HUGH: Well, bearing in mind if he was crawling home, bleeding to death, they would have passed him on the road.

ELOISE: They found no sign, because the Devil of Croydon Hill had taken his own. And on stormy nights, when that devil rides over Croydon Hill, among the thunder and lightning, you can still hear the butcher's boy groaning and screaming in eternal torment!

HUGH: So the moral of that story is don't climb inside dead animals and hang around in country lanes.

ELOISE: Thank you, Hugh.

ELOISE: Why do they build these huge hedges at the side of winding roads?

HUGH: We've had our first letter in a while. From Miguel of Ealing. He says -

ELOISE: Every corner a blind corner! And the roads are so narrow! It's like they want you to crash into oncoming cars.

HUGH: We haven't seen another car for three days, love.

ELOISE: Yeah, they want you to let your guard down.

HUGH: Miguel says, "Dear Hugh and Eloise, my partner and I would like to go on the road like yourselves, but I'm worried about security. Everybody in the settlement seems to have a gun, and you hear about these armed gangs going around attacking vulnerable people. Do I need to get a gun?"

ELOISE: You take this. I need to concentrate.

HUGH: It's okay to slow down a little.

ELOISE: And leave ourselves open to attack?

HUGH: That's just Eloise' little joke. Well, Miguel, it's good you're thinking about these things. I'll tell you a secret: we don't have a gun.

ELOISE: Should you be saying that on the air?

HUGH: We – the human race – face a common zombie enemy, and yet, as always happens with these things, some people would rather prey on their fellow humans than work together to make things better. The obvious response would be try and find a gun, and come down to their level. Maybe there would be an exchange of fire, and the human race would lose another two or three survivors. But a wise man once said, "Be the change you want to see in the world." I think it was Jerry Garcia.

ELOISE: It was Elvis.

HUGH: I'm sure you're right, dear. So, we take our chances, and try and do positive things. That's not to say we don't get hijacked, and we do have precautions in place. For instance, last time a guy pulled a gun on us, I confounded him and distracted him by saying strange things.

ELOISE: Which gave me enough time to smack him in the face with a spanner!

HUGH: By using a non-lethal method, and confiscating his weapon, we hope he might think again about his behavior and become a productive member of society.

ELOISE: You can totally survive a head wound if you wake up in time and crawl to a settlement with a doctor.

HUGH: Hope that answers your question. Happy travels!

HUGH: I don't know why so many of these stories are about saints.

ELOISE: I don't know why so many are about stepmothers.

HUGH: You tell it. I'll never get the details right.

ELOISE: Right. This is the story of Saint Juthwara.

HUGH: Nice girl.

ELOISE: How do you know? She's been dead for a thousand years.

HUGH: Just setting the scene.

ELOISE: Her father died when she was young, but still she kept up her good works – like praying, fasting, and offering hospitality to pilgrims. However, one day she had pains in her breasts.

HUGH: See? This is really why I didn't want to tell this story.

ELOISE: So her stepmother advised her to apply a compress of moist cream cheeses.

HUGH: A specialty of local farms.

ELOISE: She didn't just have a wicked stepmother. She had a wicked stepbrother, too. And the wicked stepmother told the wicked stepbrother that Juthwara had disgraced the family by becoming pregnant, because look at the cheesy stains on her shirt.

HUGH: This was long before cheesy nachos in them plastic trays.

ELOISE: So the wicked stepbrother cut off her head, just like that.

HUGH: Wicked.

ELOISE: But a spring of pure water gushed up where the head fell, and the body reached down, picked up the head, and carried it to the church at Halstock, where she put it on the altar. And then she died.

HUGH: The kind of scene which would be repeated during the zombie apocalypse a thousand years later. Apart from the water thing. And the cheese. Other than that, could have happened yesterday.

ELOISE: And do you know what happened to the wicked stepbrother?

HUGH: He, uh, was struck down by -

ELOISE: Nothing! He became a monk and it was all fine. Bloody typical.

HUGH: So, be careful when you eat cream cheese.

ELOISE: Thank you, Hugh.

ELOISE: Peace and quiet. I'm enjoying it today because Hugh is off fishing in Wookey Hole. That's not dirty like you Star Wars people are thinking. These are caves, lived in for thousands of years! They found rhino bones and mammoth bones and all manner of archaeological marvels.

Of course, latterly, it was commercialized, but now you can get into the caves and have a good look around. And most importantly, there don't seem to be the hungry moaning corpses of a coachload of kids on a doomed school trip.

Of course, I haven't forgotten about you listeners. I've dug out a couple of legends of Wookey Hole to entertain you. And I've thrown away the first one because it's the same old thing about a witch who got holy water chucked over her. She was an evil woman and she was turned to stone, blah blah blah.

Here's something more enlightened. There's a cave in there full of water that they think was a holy well. Now, you or I might think that means you're not allowed to so much as stick your finger in, but no! Apparently, it connects to a lake like Glastonbury, and in times past, everybody fished in there. The whole town! They caught trout, loaches, flukes, and a bunch of other stuff I frankly can't pronounce, but however much they caught in a year, however much they took out, the next year, it was full of fish again. Lovely!

Now, a bishop comes along, Master Thomas Beckington. He says, "Bugger off! These fish are just for my kitchen." For two years, nobody else was allowed to fish there. But during those two years, the hole produced no fish at all. So eventually, the bish gives in, and the common people came back, and then, by the grace of God, the well is full of fish again! Enough for everybody!

It just shows... oh, wait a minute. The old man of the sea is coming back. [van door opens] You're back early.

HUGH: There's a lot of bats hanging off the ceiling. I got freaked out.

ELOISE: Catch anything?

HUGH: Just this sodden polybag with a bunch of schoolbooks in it. Hey, did you know there's a rock down there that looks like an old witch? What?

HUGH: Eloise, how's your Bible knowledge?

ELOISE: Not too great, to be honest.

HUGH: There's a thing in Genesis, right at the start, where God makes the dome and separates the waters under the dome from the waters above the dome.

ELOISE: A dome?

HUGH: It's the sky. All the waters under the dome become the seas.

ELOISE: Fascinating as that is -

HUGH: Stick with it! There's a story about a village near here. One Sunday, it's a real foggy day, and all the villagers come out of church, and what do you think they see around the tombstone?

ELOISE: A snake.

HUGH: No.

ELOISE: The devil?

HUGH: No.

ELOISE: Somebody's stepmother.

HUGH: No. An anchor. And there's a line that goes up into the clouds, and it's jumping around like someone's trying to get it free.

ELOISE: I like that!

HUGH: A guy shimmies down the rope, and he's about the free the anchor when they grab him. But he can't breath. The air seems to choke him, and he dies, just like a man drowning.

ELOISE: There's a ship up there!

HUGH: Right! And when he doesn't come back, they cut loose the anchor and sail off.

ELOISE: So all this rain is just stuff spilling from another sea up above.

HUGH: That's the idea.

ELOISE: So why can't he breath?

HUGH: Because air and water are the other way around for them. They sail on the air and breath the water.

ELOISE: Fish people!

HUGH: Except they look human.

ELOISE: No gills?

HUGH: It doesn't say.

ELOISE: So how do they get back all the water that leaks down here?

HUGH: Evaporation! The water cycle, isn't it?

ELOISE: Fair enough.

HUGH: This is it! This road is the A3098 from Westbury to Frome. And below us, that's the A36 from Bath to Warminster. Which makes this Black Dog Hill.

ELOISE: Seems, uh, unremarkable.

HUGH: Well, once you dig a cutting for a major road and stick a steel and concrete bridge across it, you have destroyed something of its folksy charm.

ELOISE: So this was Dead Maid's Corner.

HUGH: You tell the story.

ELOISE: There's a farm down the road.

HUGH: Black Dog Farm!

ELOISE: The farmer's daughter was beautiful, and she was courted by two different young men.

HUGH: One of who had a black dog!

ELOISE: Are you going to let me tell this, or are you just going to say "black dog!" all the time?

HUGH: Sorry.

ELOISE: Thing is, neither of these young men knew about the other, and she never told them, because she liked having two suitors, which would make her no different from a lot of young men throughout history.

HUGH: By the way, I don't think the farm was called Black Dog until after this story.

ELOISE: Anyway, the young men inevitably found out the truth, and being of high passions, they fought a duel, and the one with the dog was killed. When the dog saw this, it jumped to the attack and ripped out the victor's throat, so they were both dead!

HUGH: It's often the way when women get involved.

ELOISE: She comes along, and sees the bodies, and she's so upset, she kills herself. Hence, Dead Maid's Corner!

HUGH: So the black dog was the only survivor, and some say it's still out there today, watching the A36 for stuff it don't like.

ELOISE: No, they don't. You just made that bit up.

HUGH: Its eyes might be on you even now.

ELOISE: It is just typical of you to derail a story about an independent and adventurous woman's tragic death with dog nonsense.

HUGH: Come on, love. Throw me a bone.

ELOISE: Oh! [starts van]

HUGH: Watch those speed bumps, love.

ELOISE: Oh, cluck cluck cluck. Make yourself useful and read a letter.

HUGH: [opens letter] Whoa, this one's on House of Commons letterhead!

ELOISE: Wow, really?

HUGH: Of course not. I knew you'd fall for that. Watch those speedbumps.

ELOISE: You are a master of deception.

HUGH: It's true. This one's from Echo - Echau? - in Hampshire. He says, "Dear Hugh and Eloise, we are a small settlement with only 15 members. One of us – let's call him Brad – has become rather unstable. He is restless inside the walls. When we're out on supply runs, he takes unnecessary chances with the zombies. He won't discuss the situation, and we think he may have a death wish. How can we calm down Brad and ensure the security of our community?"

ELOISE: Tough one.

HUGH: You start.

ELOISE: It sounds like Brad feels he doesn't have a lot to lose, so one approach is to create something at home that he'll care about.

HUGH: Like a baby.

ELOISE: You can't get pregnant just to cheer up your neighbor.

HUGH: And it'd take nine months.

ELOISE: I meant like an art project.

HUGH: Or doing up an old car.

ELOISE: I feel like we might be failing on this one.

HUGH: Echau, this is a matter of perspective. Don't think of it as having a loose cannon inside your walls. Think of it as having James Bond on your team.

ELOISE: What?

HUGH: Send him out alone on dangerous missions. If you have a craving for fresh beetroot, send him out to find beetroot, no matter what. He'll get to express his wild side, and you'll get beetroot!

ELOISE: Or the next time you see him, he'll be gray and trying to eat you.

HUGH: Either way, problem solved!

ELOISE: Thanks for the question.

ELOISE: This is the stupidest thing we've done in a while!

HUGH: Shh!

ELOISE: At least tell the listeners what's going on.

HUGH: We are waiting for midnight, when we hope to see King Arthur.

ELOISE: But right now, we're parked on a B road staring up at some trees on a hill.

HUGH: It's a Roman hill fort called Badbury Rings. They say this was where King Arthur won his greatest battle against the Saxons. The legend has it he did not truly die, but his soul passed into a raven, and the raven now lives with all his knights right here.

ELOISE: Can you actually see any ravens?

HUGH: It's pitch dark, isn't it? How am I going to see a raven at night? Being black is a kind of thing for them.

ELOISE: No need to be tetchy.

HUGH: They say at midnight, King Arthur and all his knights ride around the fort in a ghostly cavalcade, and it's midnight in three, two, one... right now.

ELOISE: ... I can't see anything.

HUGH: Maybe they're on the other side.

ELOISE: ... Hugh, I see something!

HUGH: I can't quite make it out.

ELOISE: It's a man. He's come out of those trees, walking down the hill towards us.

HUGH: I see him!

ELOISE: What do we do?

HUGH: They said King Arthur would come back in the time of the land's greatest need, didn't they? This could be that time!

ELOISE: I don't like this, Hugh!

HUGH: Is he saying something? Listen!

[zombie moans]

ELOISE: Oh, it's just a bloody zombie. Get in the van.

HUGH: Bugger.

[van door opens]

HUGH: Did you get anything?

ELOISE: Oh, she told me a lovely story about how Christchurch got its name.

HUGH: I meant any fresh veg.

ELOISE: Oh. No.

HUGH: Right. Let's eat this story, then.

ELOISE: This what?

HUGH: Just tell it.

ELOISE: Well, the first thing is the location of the priory. They were going to build it up that way, on St. Catherine's hill, but as the legend has it, every morning they found their materials down in the valley where the priory is now.

HUGH: So St. Catherine didn't like the architect's drawings of the priory.

ELOISE: No, it's more about a divine force leading them to the correct site.

HUGH: I see.

ELOISE: Listen, this is the good bit. Once the builders got to work on the new site, they were joined by a mysterious stranger. A carpenter. He didn't talk much, just got on with his job. But he was pleasant enough, and he was a really good carpenter. Then one day, somebody made a mistake, and a crucial beam was cut too short.

HUGH: See? That's why you measure twice.

ELOISE: All the work had to stop until they got a new beam. Everyone went home apart from the mysterious carpenter, who stayed on the site. The next morning, he was gone, and they never saw him again, but overnight, the beam had miraculously increased in length, and it was a perfect fit! And that's how the town got its name.

HUGH: So was the carpenter a wizard?

ELOISE: No! He was Jesus! Christchurch!

HUGH: I don't get it.

ELOISE: Jesus Christ! Christchurch!

HUGH: What? Was he doing odd jobs on the side?

ELOISE: No! Jesus was a carpenter. That's what makes the story good!

HUGH: I thought he was a preacher.

ELOISE: Yeah, but first, he was a carpenter!

HUGH: Not a bad story, love. Needs a bit of work. [starts van]

HUGH: Oh, I don't know. That conversation kind of disturbed me. Treacle mines.

ELOISE: I know! I thought he was pulling our leg, but when I laughed, he seemed so offended.

HUGH: They don't mine treacle. Do they? They don't dig it out of the ground. They make it from sugar and something.

ELOISE: What was it he said about the geology bit?

HUGH: He said millions of years ago, it was much warmer, and sugar cane grew here.

ELOISE: Right.

HUGH: And because it wasn't harvested -

ELOISE: - it rotted, and all the molasses drained away.

HUGH: Treacle is something to do with molasses, I remember that.

ELOISE: What are molasses?

HUGH: I don't know exactly.

ELOISE: So they all drained into -

HUGH: Right, the valley, and because the soil around here is clay, it couldn't sink through, and it formed a layer. A layer of treacle...

ELOISE: Did he say something about the ice age?

HUGH: Right, and that's why it's underground, because it froze during the ice age, and stuff built up on top.

ELOISE: Was he just – is this just - ?

HUGH: It seems kind of elaborate for a joke, doesn't it?

ELOISE: Well, that's what I was thinking! And why would you say your granddad was killed if he wasn't?

HUGH: Twelve men dead... I mean, mine tunnels do collapse. In the summer, it does get warm and treacle would be runny...

ELOISE: I'm not sure.

HUGH: I'm not sure either.

ELOISE: Is he looking at us now? Is he laughing?

HUGH: No, he's just going about his business.

ELOISE: You want to go back and ask him?

HUGH: Let's just go.

ELOISE: Yeah.

ELOISE: Ah, this is a classic agony aunt letter. Neta writes in from Leeds, and she says, "Dear Hugh and Eloise, is my boyfriend a zombie?"

HUGH: The eternal question.

ELOISE: "He is very sluggish getting up in the morning, and he often starts moaning at breakfast in a thin, nasal, whining tone that will continue all day and only cease when he retires to the toilet, in which he will spend an extended period. Often, he does not react to voices, such as when I ask him to clear up his own bloody dishes, or to stop leaving beard hair in the sink."

HUGH: Beard hair? A key point. Does hair still grow on zombies? I don't know.

ELOISE: Me neither. "Normally, he is docile, sitting slumped in an old sofa and rarely changing his clothes. His face has a slight gray pallor. I have on occasion thought he was dead, but then he will display a sudden burst of activity like stretching for a Superman comic he has already read fifty times, or reaching into his trousers to scratch.

HUGH: Gentlemen, please! Always in private.

ELOISE: "This torpor is only interrupted when he becomes aroused, at which point he will begin to follow me closely around the shelter. At these times, I often note that he emits a disagreeable smell, and his normal whine becomes lower and more cajoling. Often after I repel this assault, his behavior becomes erratic, and he clatters around with scant regard for his surroundings. While as yet he has not attempted to devour me, he often nibbles on my neck at inappropriate times, such as when I'm manning the gate cannon or repairing the generator during a thunderstorm."

HUGH: I would say the data is inconclusive at present, but there are early indications of zombieness, and this girl should monitor the situation. What about you, dear?

ELOISE: Do some experimentation, Neta. Obtain something he wants, such as a packet of crisps or a can of lager. Move it around his vicinity and observe what he does. If he follows on hands and knees, he's a crawler. You are relatively safe, but he may make sudden springs. If he simply staggers around after you with hands outstretched, he may be a shambler. He will be dangerous, but predictable. What you'll have to watch is if he generates a sudden burst of speed. Then you need to take him out for your own safety.

HUGH: You can kill a man with a can of lager if you life depends on it. Wedge it in his eye socket, or tear it open and go for the throat.

ELOISE: Yes. The need for safe sex hasn't ended with the zombie apocalypse. Thanks for your question, and stay safe.

HUGH: You're going to like this one, dear.

ELOISE: I don't know if I am.

HUGH: It's got a dead woman.

ELOISE: Another dead woman? Every story around here's about dead women.

HUGH: Well, there have been a lot of them throughout history, and they're all dead now.

ELOISE: Not all of them.

HUGH: Yeah, but with the zombies and that -

ELOISE: Oh, tell the bleeding story.

HUGH: It's funny you should put it that way! Right, this is from Stanton St Bernard, which we passed half an hour ago.

ELOISE: Okay.

HUGH: A wealthy farmer's wife dies, and they bury her in the family vault, wearing all her fine rings.

ELOISE: Okay.

HUGH: An evil sexton notices the big jewels on the rings, and that night, he goes to the vault to steal them. He creeps in, and breaks open the coffin.

ELOISE: Psshh, sextons.

HUGH: He takes the rings one by one, but the last one is really tight, and he can't get it off, so he takes his pocket knife and he cuts off her finger. Can you guess what happens?

ELOISE: The finger goes on fire, floats in the air, and tells him not to break the sabbath.

HUGH: [laughs] She wakes up! She's not dead, just in a coma, and here's this sexton holding her finger, blood shooting all over the place!

ELOISE: What happens?

HUGH: Well, he makes himself scarce, doesn't he? And she walks all the way home with this dripping finger.

ELOISE: Don't tell me – somebody thinks she's an unholy spirit, and kills her for real.

HUGH: No. She goes home to her husband, and they live happily for years.

ELOISE: It's a change, I suppose. Hey, Hugh?

HUGH: Yeah?

ELOISE: I'm thinking of giving you the finger right now.

HUGH: Dear me. How rude.

#zombies run #zrs5 #s5 radio #s5 radio part 1 #zr transcript

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psychicdinneranon-blog · 7 years

Text

Five Times Shou Eats Something He Shouldn’t (And 1 Time He Doesn’t)

This is part 5 of a series based off the MiB AU! From bakanohealthy and qcatter Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6

(Fifth time: In which Shou eats a dirty sock and plays with Ritsu.)

When Ritsu heard a loud knock at his window, he didn’t startle. He just kicked out his chair to give him just enough reach for the blinds and flung them open, letting a wave of light into the room.

Shou invisibly phased through the window and plopped both into existence and onto his friend’s bed. He chirped what Ritsu assumed must have been a hello, though it was almost lost in the tweeting of birds that echoed around the word.

“Hey Suzuki.” Ritsu smiled warmly before he gestured to the mess on the desk that he was organizing. “Look I am not sure how much you’ll want to hang around today. I need to get a bunch of chores done before mom and dad come back from shopping.”

Shou leaned back on the bed, his feet dangled off the edge as he stared up at the ceiling. “That’s fine I don’t mind hanging out while you clean.”

He looked up a little from where he lay, watching as Ritsu finished getting all of his pens and pencils into their proper spots and not wherever he had randomly thrown them. He even spotted a spoon in his pencil cup and quickly stashed it into the side drawer.

“Okay, if that’s what you want. So how have you been? And I saw that text of yours, did you spend all night making Hamstar that new hidey hole?”

Shou grinned widely and shifted his positon a bit so that he could see his friend. He watched as Ritsu grabbed one of those wet cleaning clothes to wipe away the dust that had accumulated on his desk.

“Well yeah.” Ritsu gave Shou a Look and Shou squeaked out a laugh, bringing one of his hands to rub at the back of his neck. “Okay so I slept a few hours before then. But then I found this awesome blueprint and you know how it is to get lost in a project.”

Ritsu shook his head with a small smile towards his friend. “The day you sleep through the entire night, will be the same day that the sun stops shining.”

Shou gasped dramatically and threw his hands over his heart. “Ritsu! Don’t even joke about such a horrible thing! I need the sun for warmth!”

Ritsu snickered at his friend’s antics and finished up with his desk. Then he motioned for Shou to follow him as he left the room.

“Okay what do we need to do for the chores?” Shou asked as he trotted after his friend.

“Well, I have to finish up the laundry, do the dishes from last night and then vacuum the living room. Once that’s done we can watch that video you were telling me about. What was it called again?”

Shou leaned against the doorframe as he watched Ritsu open up the dryer and washing machine. “Life After People, it’s really cool to see everything decompose or disintegrate.”

Ritsu reached into the washing machine and took out a pile clothes, chucking them into the dryer as quick as he could. He never had liked the feel of wet fabric on his skin.

“Of course you would like something that tells you how long things will last if everyone disappeared.”

Ritsu reached into the washing machine again and bent down to put another armful into the dryer, however he was met with Shou’s grin splitting across his sunrise colored face.

Instead of startling backwards at the sudden sight of three starchild eyes watching him, and the fact that Shou had seemingly teleported into the dryer; Ritsu gave Shou an unimpressed look. But before he could question his friend on just why he thought it would be a good idea to climb into the dryer- and how he even fit into the dryer in the first place, Shou chirped a laugh.

“Hey, hey Ritsu turn the dryer on!” Shou tweeted excitedly, wiggling a little against the wet clothes. And Ritsu took a moment to be thankful that starkids didn’t get dirty when they switched between forms, he would hate to have to wash the clothes again.

“Wha- Suzuki are you sure that is safe?”

Shou’s grin drooped a little but he shook his head ferociously. “Yeah it’s totally safe! I’ve gone through the dryer a few times before and been fine.”

Ritsu hesitated for a moment. And so Shou seized his chance. “Besides, if I don’t want to be in there anymore I’ll just phase out. Easy.” He made his three eyes as wide and cute as he possibly could.

“Okay, but scooch over I need to get the rest of the load in.”

Shou eagerly did as he was told and within the next few minutes Ritsu could hear Shou’s trumpeting laughter in time with the cycling of the dryer.

Ritsu walked back to the kitchen and turned on the sink, readying the dishes. After all he might as well knock down another chore while he waited for his friend to be done with his fun.

He had finished the dishes and was wandering around the kitchen looking for anything else he had to do when the dryer beeped to let him know that it was done. Ritsu glanced around and noticed that while Shou’s elephant laughter had stopped he still had not reappeared. He chuckled softly to himself, guessing that Shou was just seeping up any and all extra warmth from the dryer.

He threw the dryer door open to see a colorful Shou covered with- now thankfully dry, clothes. Shou grinned dizzily at him from his position under the clothes as Ritsu reached in to grab at the pile.

Shou phased out of the dryer, tumbling out into a summersault onto the floor while Ritsu gathered the fabric in his arms and dumped it onto the reclining chair in the living room to sort out later. Shou eagerly hopped after him and perched on the back of the chair.

Then just as suddenly he flung himself off of it and divebombed the couch. Ritsu turned to look at his friend curiously. He knew that Shou was more than happy to bounce off of things, but usually he stayed on them for more than a couple of seconds. Shou looked back at him and then smiled and blinked all three of his eyes slowly.

Ritsu mimicked him before asking just why he had launched away so quickly.

“Oh that. Well it’s your brother’s chair.”

Shou said this so matter of factly that Ritsu forgot for a second that Shou had never really been around to see his brother sitting in said particular chair.

“Wait, how do you know?”

Shou shrugged and flicked a tail towards said chair in question. “It’s got his energy all over it. Can’t you see?”

Ritsu turned to face the chair and squinted, his power lighting up his eyes. He could see the fuzzy outline of something hovering around the chair, a sort of bluish purple at its thickest points.

“Oh.” Ritsu gasped, he had never realized that his brother left energy around the house.

“You’ve got it on you too, but your’s is different.” Shou suddenly smiled widely. “Your energy is this prettier blue like the sky just at sunset. His is like… like the sky at midnight with no city lights and just a few clouds. You can see that it could be really colorful. The clouds are this dark purple and the stars can be anything, red, blue, yellow, you name it it’s there. But his is so dark that like the stars you only get to see pinpricks of the color and light.”

Shou turned to face Ritsu a soft smile playing across his mouth. “But you show off everything. That’s why your energy’s prettier.”

“Thank you Suzuki.”

He wasn’t really sure how to respond other than that. The compliment felt genuine. Yes that seemed like a good word. How even if he were being compared to his brother, he was being compared on his own merits.

Ritsu turned around and snagged the vacuum from the cleaning closet. He plugged it into the socket and turned it on.

Once he did so the thought that it was louder than he remembered crossed his mind. However Ritsu continued to vacuum as far as the cord would let him reach. When he turned off the vacuum and continued to hear the buzzing noise he suddenly realized just why it had been louder.

Or well, who had been adding to the sound.

From his positon on the couch Shou buzzed back at the vacuum. Ritsu rolled his eyes.

“Suzuki you can help if you’re bored.”

Shou sat upright on the couch, and Ritsu was reminded of the way Teruki would sometimes sit after he just finished “grooming” out his energy.

“Sure Ritsu! What do you want me to do?”

Ritsu waved a hand at some of the room’s furniture. “Move the couch so I can get underneath it.”

“Too easy!” Shou grinned and floated off the couch. He grabbed it and lifted it three feet across the room as easily as if carrying a jug of milk. Ritsu stepped up behind him ready to vacuum the area Shou had just opened up.

And underneath the couch was a small pile of plastic wrappers and other forgotten items, including a lone dirty sock that had been kicked carelessly under the couch.

Ritsu sighed and set the vacuum cleaner aside and turned to snag the broom and dustpan from the hall closet when he suddenly heard Shou speak.

“Hey Ritsu this sock isn’t important right?”

Ritsu turned around to look at his friend, who had moved over towards the dusty pile. “No, I don’t think we even own the other half.”

“Cool!” And then without warning Shou swooped down and plucked the sock out from its place in the pile and swallowed it down whole.

Ritsu gaped at the sight of Shou eating not only a sock, but a dirty one. He was almost at a loss for words. “Ah Suzuki,” He paused trying to figure out exactly what he would say to his friend before just giving up. Even with separate species some questions just had to be asked.

“Why did you just eat a dirty sock?”

“What? You said it wasn’t important, besides fabric tastes good.” Shou tilted his head a little confused at the reaction of his friend. After all the soft pillowy taste of fabric was akin to bread fresh from the oven.

“Yeah but…” Ritsu trailed off unsure of what to say. Didn’t dirtiness make a difference? He wasn’t sure. Maybe his brother would know. But for now, he looked back up at his friend.

“Do you want something to eat from the fridge? We can make lunch together.” After all he was almost done vacuuming and as long as Shou was around he could move the couch all he liked.

“Sure!” Shou answered easily with a happy popping of fire in his voice.

The two put the couch back and went into the kitchen where Ritsu quickly made the two of them sandwiches. He gave Shou’s a generous helping of lunchmeat, cheese and lettuce. He had no worries that Shou would be able to eat it; his friend had swallowed down much larger things whole before.

Shou snagged his plate from Ritsu before Ritsu was able to set it down in front of him. He supposed he had guessed right in Shou being hungry because he tore through the sandwich with as much gusto as a tornado through concrete.

Ritsu sat down and ate his sandwich. He listened to Shou chatter about the last episode of that Life After People show he had watched. Shou seemed to take great delight in regaling Ritsu with all the ways monuments and buildings could fall apart. Shou even made a couple of disintegrating puns that were so bad Ritsu just shook his head at his sandwich.

Shou, who was already laughing from telling a pun, laughed harder at his friend’s reaction.

Once dinner was done Ritsu got up and took the dishes over to the sink. He made a mental note to wash them after he watched the episode with Shou.

Then Shou’s tail, which had twined around one of the chair legs accidently brushed across the back of Ritsu’s knee as he was walking back to the table. A giggle escaped from him unbidden and Shou’s face lit up with a devious smile.

“So Ritsu, are you ticklish?~” Shou singsonged, drawing out the words as he inched closer to his friend. His arms were lifted and Ritsu could see where this was going.

Thankfully Ritsu had a plan for something like this.

He turned and ran back to his room as fast as his feet, and powers, could take him.

“You won’t get away so easily Ritsu!” Shou shrieked with laughter and floated idly along after his friend. Even with Ritsu’s powers he knew he had the upper hand.

He could phase through phase through physical matter after all. And Ritsu couldn’t.

Shou found Ritsu in his room obviously hiding a hand behind his back. The other was outstretched in front of him as if that would be enough to keep Shou away.

“Ritsu, Ritsu, Ritsu you know you won’t be able to fend me off with just that.” Shou purred playfully. He gave an all over body wiggle before pouncing onto Ritsu, aiming for any and all ticklish tender spots.

“Ahaha, no, haha!” Ritsu gasped with laughter as he draw out his secret weapon and rubbed it fiendishly across Shou’s starform.

Shou jolted as the strange feeling crept through him and he jumped back as a howl of laughter sprung from his mouth. “Wha-“ He was cut off as Ritsu dove in for the attack and rubbed the static-y balloon again across Shou’s body.

Anywhere it touched it tickled him, just as he had aimed to do to Ritsu. Shou’s laughter grew louder as he reached out to try and desperately strike back.

However Ritsu had successfully turned the tables on Shou and was able to easily dart away with every jab. And with a fierce grin on his face he reduced Shou to a puddle of a starchild, clutching his sides in helpless laughter.

#MiB au #Shou Suzuki #Ritsu Kageyama #mp100 #my writing #look FLUFF #I TOLD YOU GUYS THAT THIS WAS GONNA BE FLUFFY #also thank you qcatter for telling me how starkids can be tickled #yes Shou was too oveconfident and that let Ritsu get the better of him #and the thing which Shou eats something he shouldn't was the dirty sock #but like only cause it was in front of Ritsu #it doesn't hurt to eat dirty things it just weirds Ritsu out #5 Times Shou Ate Something he Shouldn't

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