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rocorambles · 3 years

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Lifetime of Love

Pairing: Suga x Reader

Genre/Warnings: NSFW, Overstimulation, Mythology AU, Demi-God!Suga

Prompt: Mythology

Summary: As the son of Aphrodite, Suga knows more than most when it comes to beauty and love. But knowledge and experience are two very different things. OR Suga finds true love.

A/N: This is my contribution for the HQHQ NSFW collaboration. There are so many talented writers on the server and I highly encourage you to check out the collaboration masterlist here to see how everyone decided to run with this prompt. As always, thanks for beta-ing @sawamooora

Being the son of Aphrodite has its perks. Even as just a demi-god, Suga is borderline ethereal, naturally drawing men and women to him with his dazzling silver hair, enthralling hazel-brown eyes, and coquettish charm. It’s effortless, the way he wakes up looking just as radiant as ever, the way his hair is naturally shaped and styled even after tossing and turning in bed. Clothing is just a technicality, just fabric he wears to not risk indecent exposure. Why waste time and effort thinking of putting an outfit together when he could wear a burlap sack and still have admirers flock to him?

It’s not a bad life and he knows others stare at him with envy, wondering what it’s like to be so beautiful, so loved, so wanted, so desired. Never an off day. Never a hair out of place. And truth be told, maybe more of his mother runs in him than he likes to admit, if the swell of pride and satisfaction he gets from having everything in life handed to him on a silver platter is anything to go by.

Life is easier for beautiful people. It’s a hard pill to swallow for the masses, but a reality that Suga has no qualms taking advantage of. After all, he might as well get some benefit from being a goddess's son, even if his mother and him don’t always see eye to eye.

Suga can appreciate beauty and love. Aphrodite has taught him to have an eye for the finer things in life. He’s not stubborn enough to deny that he enjoys waking up entangled in silk and satin sheets, surrounded by a beautifully decorated apartment, to reject the ecstasy he feels when he has one or more playmates in his bed.

But love of the flesh is different than love of the heart, and he wonders, despite how blasphemous it is to question a deity, if his mother truly understands what love is.

Aphrodite’s love is a seemingly fleeting and fickle thing, a fire that blazes bright and strong, only to burn out just as quickly as it had risen. And he judgmentally watches as she bounces from man to God to man to God again and again, grimacing whenever he meets his “family”, knowing how she’s slept with most of the other gods in Olympus.

He has no doubt that in her own way, she truly has loved each entity she’s slept with. But he wants something different, something less promiscuous, something less shallow. He wants true love, a love rooted in something much deeper than superficial appearances, a love rooted in a connection of souls, a love rooted in the bond of two people truly seeing and knowing each other’s flaws and strengths, yet still determinedly pursuing each other.

So he steadfastly continues on, searching for the one.

There’s no end to the line of people who practically throw themselves at his feet, desperate for a chance to catch his attention. He goes on endless dates, entering and leaving countless relationships. Some attempts are longer than others. Some partners have hope churning inside of him, have hazel-brown eyes sparkling in interest. But in the end, they’re all the same and the flutters of his heart become anchors of disgust inside of him when he sees their leering eyes, the lust driving their actions, the way they never see past his handsome face and attractive body.

No one sees Sugawara Koushi. They only see the body of a man literally blessed by the gods.

Maybe it was naive of him to believe that he knew more about love than the goddess of love herself. Maybe sleeping around with other attractive bodies is all his life will amount to, can amount to. And as he watches the people around him break-up, divorce, chase after some happy ending that seems more and more unattainable, he gives up his rose-colored dream of a fairytale romance.

But life has a funny way of dropping something in your lap just when you’ve given up all hope.

Aphrodite had not been amused when Suga had told her he was going to be a teacher at a local elementary school in the countryside. Children and parental instincts have never been her forte, and he remembers the long winding back and forths they had as she implored for him to rethink his decisions, flaunting modeling and acting opportunities in his face, anything to have his handsome face plastered on televisions and magazines.

But he had remained steadfast in his decision and she had finally relented, shaking her head and letting him know that she’d be ready to help him when he’s done wasting his gifts and time.

“You’re only part-god, Koushi. Your beauty will only last so long.”

He knows there’s no malice behind the words. It’s just a cold hard fact, a reminder. And he simply nods in response, secretly wondering if that would be so bad, letting age take its toll and put him on the same playing field as the rest of the world.

But he has years before he crosses that bridge and he dedicates himself to finding fulfillment in life by caring for and teaching the children in his class. A megawatt smile spreads across his face as he watch them play and excitedly call his name, politely ignoring his fellow teachers who parade themselves in front of him for an ounce of his attention, never entertaining the married mothers of his students who try to lavish him with unnecessarily exuberant gifts and woo him with fluttering lashes.

It’s a tiring never-ending dance, so when he hears about the arrival of a new female colleague, he internally sighs, no doubt in his mind that you’ll be just like the rest. So imagine his surprise when you just casually smile at him when you’re introduced, no interest in your eyes, no lingering gaze, before turning your attention away from him without a second glance back.

He wonders if it’s a fluke, hopes and prays that it isn’t. It’s almost comical, complete insanity, how his heart races, his eyes blow wide, just from your sheer nonchalance. And for the first time, it’s Suga who’s left wistfully staring as his eyes trail after your figure even long after you’ve turned the corner of the hallway.

He’s seen his mother’s work, seen the way humans pursue their love interests with almost fanatical effort. But he had never understood, not until now.

It’s an intoxicating feeling, addictive, the thrill of the chase energizing him in a way he’s never felt before. It’s hard, meticulous work finding reasons to visit your classroom, finding ways to weave himself in conversations you’re a part of. But it’s always worth it when he sees the genuine fondness in your eyes, the way you look and really see him, the way you care about the man underneath the shiny facade, in a way no one ever has before.

And when the two of you go out for a friendly lunch one day, when you order his favorite dish that he’s only briefly mentioned to you once in passing, without even missing a beat, his heart stops. It’s something no other partner has bothered even taking note of, too busy trying to impress him with high-end meals and fine dining. And just like that, he blurts out his confession, heart hammering, fingers nervously twitching as he awaits your response.

For many years to come, the two of you will debate whether or not that lunch counts as your official first date as a couple.

Dating you is everything he’s dreamed of and more. And for once, Suga feels like just another regular man, a normal human being as he holds your hand in his, giggling and sharing stories, feeding each other bites of food, lazing around on his sofa watching TV.

But as a romance movie runs in the background and the main couple kisses after the male lead raves about how stunning his lover is, he turns his attention to you, curiosity nagging at him, a tiny tendril of lingering fear squirming inside of him.

“What do you like about me?”

There’s silence as you owlishly blink and look up at him, surprise and confusion flitting across your face as you try and process where this question is coming from. But when you see the worry, doubt, and insecurity muddling your boyfriend’s eyes, you interlace your fingers with his and cuddle into his side, resting your head on his shoulder as you continue gazing at him.

“I like the way you always insist on getting the highest spice level at every Chinese restaurant we go to that serves mapo tofu, even though you complain about your mouth burning all night long afterwards.”

Suga chuckles, unable to deny the truth of those words.

“I like the way you act like a clueless angel even when you’re wreaking havoc and chaos, you big trouble maker.”

This time Suga does try to plead innocence, although all he can do is sheepishly grin when you start listing off event after event of mischief he had instigated and encouraged, much to Daichi’s and Asahi’s dismay.

“I like how patient and gentle you are with your students and your old underclassmen. I like the way you nurture them, mentor them, encourage them to keep on going, keep on trying even when the going gets tough. And I like how you instill that belief in your own life. If we have children of our own one day, I know you’ll be the father I’ve always wanted for my future kids.”

The weight of your last sentence hangs heavy in the air, the meaning, the hope of a lifetime promise has Suga’s jaw dropping. But when you shyly look away, nervously biting your lip as he just dumbly stares at you, he jolts back to reality and you yelp as lips suddenly crash against yours.

Sex with Suga is always sweet, with a hint of spice when your lover is feeling particularly mischievous. But it’s never been like this, full of desperation, untamed desire, a want so deep that it leaves both your minds in a hazy disarray. You gasp as you’re firmly pushed down, until your back hits the couch and you’re moaning into the mouth pressed against yours, your tongues tangling with each other in an attempt to taste every crevice.

The wet sounds of your lips connecting and disconnecting over and over again, the frantic sounds of fabric being rustled and tossed off, they all mix in a passionate symphony punctuated by breathy declarations of love, by whimpered names.

You throw your head back as a hot wet mouth sensually carves a path down the column of your neck, to the delicate swoop of your collarbone, sighing in bliss as they end in the valley of your breasts, two hands gently tweaking and rolling your nipples. And then fingers are replaced with a tongue, with lips, and your back arches, body writhing, seeking more, more, more as you wildly grind against your lover’s body.

Usually Suga likes to take his time with you, unwrap you piece by piece, unravel the strings that tie you together, coax the prettiest sounds out of you. But today something more carnal, more desperate, more raw spurs him on, and he feels more beast than man as he devours you, plunders you, marks you as his for all eternity.

“Koushi!”

You wail as he wastes no time in quickly snapping his hips, filling your slick walls with his cock. There’s an urgency behind his pace you’ve never felt before and you dig your nails into his shoulders, eyes rolling back in your head, lewd moans echoing in the room as you wrap one leg around his back, the other dangling off the couch.

You’re not sure exactly what the trigger had been for this, but you’re not complaining, pussy walls only clamping down even more when you see the feral hunger in his eyes, the drag of his cock against your insides even more pronounced.

He can feel your end approaching, sees it in the way your head tosses side to side, the way your eyes glaze over, and he brings a hand between your bodies, toying with your clit, circling it, rubbing it, never losing his rhythm as you begin to convulse, body thrashing, nails scratching his skin, a debauched version of his given name rolling of your tongue. Only when you begin to whimper, shaking hands trying to grasp his fingers still playing with your oversensitive nub does he relent, smiling down at you as you entwine your fingers with his as he continues to thrust in and out of you.

Suga’s been told he looks like an angel time and time again, but as he stares down at your completely ravaged and exhausted form, the way your chest heaves up and down, the sheen of sweat on your skin, the after tremors of your body, the duality of how you cling onto his hand despite your wanton state, he thinks you’re the true angel here. Maybe a fallen angel, but an angel nonetheless and he can feel his balls tighten, the last shreds of his endurance ripping apart at the seams as he takes in your breathtaking appearance.

But he needs more than that, needs you, needs you here and with him, and he meets your lips in a bruising kiss, a silent demand for your attention, adjusting his hands until your fingers are interlocked on either side of your head.

“Look at me.”

He patiently waits, peppering your face with butterfly kisses, slowing down the rocking of his hips. You’re so tired, heavy eyelids wanting nothing more than to close, but you’re still in a rocky ocean of pleasure, body still registering and reacting to every touch, every move. And when his soft voice makes its way through the fog, you know you need to listen, you want to listen. So you turn your eyes until they lock with hazel-brown, a weak smile plastered across your face when you see the love and affection pouring down onto you.

“I love you.”

Both of you grin as the three words unanimously exit your mouths, but the smile is wiped off your face as he resumes his pace, tempo beginning to stutter, his own head being thrown back in ecstasy as he approaches his end. Your overstimulated body is barely hanging on by a thread, pathetic mewls dripping from your lips, and you keen when sticky spurts fill you, Suga’s cock buried balls deep inside of you as he breeds you, coating your quivering walls with his essence.

Suga gently lowers his body on yours, capturing your mouth in another kiss, one much gentler as both of you catch your breaths, bodies feeling soft and pliant as post-coital bliss wraps around you like a fluffy blanket.

Beauty is a fleeting thing. His mother’s not wrong about that.

But love? Love isn’t nearly as fickle as beauty, he thinks, as he holds you in his arms. And he smiles, letting himself be lulled to sleep by your rhythmic breathing, dreaming of the long and full life still ahead for both of you.

#haikyuu smut #suga x reader #sugawara x reader #suga smut #sugawara smut #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fic #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu x reader

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hiddendreamer67 · 4 years

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Chasing the Captain

Here’s a piece set in the mer au au (or reverse mer au) made by the talented @voidsides. Roman is a merman prince who has fallen desperately in love with pirate captain Virgil, who he follows around constantly trying to woo his grumpy human crush.

Read more of my work at @hiddendreamerwriting!

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Captain Virgil stood aboard his ship, gazing out at the waves as the vessel continued to cross the sea. Such a vast, unforgiving landscape, the ocean- Virgil could stare into its depths for ages, knowing that a single storm could bring him plummeting into its unforgiving murky secrets. It gave him a strange sort of chill, bringing his life up to the edge and spitting in destiny’s face instead, riding along the waves like a tamed wild steed. Sometimes it felt as though he could speak to the sea itself, whispering for him to jump in and the horrible consequences that would befall him below…

And sometimes, the sea did more than whisper.

“Cap’n, it’s back.” A crew member jutted his thumb towards the hull of the ship. Virgil groaned, already hearing that melodious voice as he approached.

“Oh Captain my captain, your ship may be steady in her course but I am more so!”

Virgil huffed, rolling his eyes as he stepped up to peer over the rail. There, following the ship diligently was that same dreaded mer folk. Ruby red scales sparkling in the setting sun, the creature looked almost out of breath but was attempting to hide this with a dazzling smile.

“I thought we lost you in the storm.” Virgil drawled, sounding almost disappointed. It had been a blessed few days of silence.

“Captain, a pleasure it is to see you as well!” The mer lit up at the sight of Virgil, completely ignoring the captain’s statement. “Don’t you look ravishing this fine evening, care for a dip?”

Virgil flipped him off.

“Ah, I see your manners are as lovely as ever.” The creature appeared a bit peeved, but a simple hand gesture wouldn’t deter him. If it would, Virgil would have seen the beast off a hundred times over. “Perhaps a song will lighten your spirits~”

“Fuck off, siren.” Virgil called out to him. Once upon a time, Virgil believed this creature to truly be a siren, a being of the sea that enchanted sailors to sink to their doom. Now Virgil wasn’t so sure, as to be around a siren for this long should’ve meant the death of his entire crew; either this was a very incompetent siren, or a very stubborn and foolish mer folk.

And given Virgil has had the pleasure of hearing the creature sing, he knew it was the latter.

Just as promised, the mer began to hum, easily picking a tune out of the air. Virgil grimaced, turning away from the rail and heading towards his quarters before the song could lure him into a false sense of security.

“Oh, ‘tis the pearl one.” One deckhand commented. “That’s me favorite, tha’ is.”

“Bet he’d love if you told it so.” The other teased.

Virgil groaned, turning to the pair with a scowl. “Don’t encourage it. I forbid you.”

“Oh Cap’n, wouldn’t matter if we said nothin’.” The first assured him. “Tha’ creature has eyes only for yourself.”

Virgil flushed, steadfastly ignoring how the man’s implications made him feel a strange hum in his chest. “Ridiculous.” He scoffed, slamming his door shut before he could be hackled further.

Unfortunately, there was some truth to his men’s words. For whatever reason, this beast had chosen Virgil and would accept no other. Virgil had tried every trick in the book to avoid the mer, short of retiring to land. He boarded a new ship. He sailed new waters. He holed up in his quarters. No matter what maneuvers Virgil tried, within a matter of time the mer would always, always return, and not leave until Virgil had interacted with it.

In the beginning, the very idea of such a curse terrified Virgil. What could the siren possibly want? How long until Virgil was inevitably drowned like all the countless tales? Why was Virgil singled out above all others? But as time passed… for whatever reason, Virgil’s fears morphed into a more quiet curiosity. For whatever reason, the creature seemed to mean him no harm.

So what did it want with him?

Virgil sighed, once again looking out his porthole window at the dark frothy waves. The sun had set some time ago, giving the waters an even more ominous ambience. The singing, now that Virgil was focusing on it, had ended some time ago. Virgil paused, surprised to see the mer was not pressed up against the glass as he was wont to do. Perhaps the last time Virgil had scolded him about “freaking PRIVACY-” had finally gotten through his thick skull.

(It had been rather alarming to find eyes peering in from the murky depths when he was changing. At least the creature had the decency to be sheepish as well.)

Virgil hummed for a moment, drumming his fingers on the desk. Begrudgingly realizing he wouldn’t be able to sleep without knowing if the mer was truly gone, Virgil grabbed a tankard and headed up to the deck.

The captain headed back to the hull of the ship, peering into the path they carved in the ocean. No eyes peered back at him. He took a swig of his rum, slowly circling the length of the ship and examining the waves. No sign of his mer anywhere.

Why was he disappointed?

Virgil sighed, nursing his drink as he attempted to sort out his thoughts. What did he care if the sea serpent wanted to leave? He didn’t care.

Virgil winced, knowing his words were both harsh and pathetic. It wasn’t right to call him a serpent, not when he had done nothing but try to earn Virgil’s trust. Not when he had a name.

Virgil sighed again, placing his head in his hand. “Oh, Roman…”

“You remembered!”

The captain jolted, so lost in his thoughts (and his drink) that he had failed to notice the mer slinking up in the waves. And now Roman was properly grinning, his teeth on full display as he was clearly delighted both at Virgil’s statement and catching the captain unawares.

Virgil huffed, immediately sinking back into his grouchy demeanor and pushing the warm feeling from Roman’s arrival deep down. Deeper than all the oceans combined. “How could I forget? You won’t stop singing your own praises.”

“Well, I would sing yours.” Roman assured him, leaning his arms on the rail a few paces away. He had learned at sword point to give Virgil personal space. “But you’ve refused to give me your name.”

“Hmm.” Virgil just shrugged, taking another sip of his drink.

Roman rolled his eyes, pushing his dripping locks out of his face. “So mysterious. Dark and brooding only keeps a man’s interest for so long, you know. However I am becoming increasingly interested in why you chose to call out to me- does the heart grow fonder, I sense?”

“In your dreams, princey.” Virgil chuckled. Despite his thoughts dwindling on the mer beside him, his gaze was fixed solely on the sea in an almost unfocused trance.

“A sand dollar for your thoughts?” Roman tilted his head.

Virgil paused, debating whether he should tell Roman what was truly on his mind. It was a dangerous game, one that would admit to Roman’s slow siren games working.

“What would…” Virgil paused, refusing to meet Roman’s gaze. He almost didn’t want to know the answer if the darker truths were correct. What would happen if I joined you? Virgil shuddered, watching the waters churn a bit more dangerously. The sea, dangerous mistress she was, would not be so kind to a landlubber like himself.

“What do you want with me?” Virgil murmured. “You’re always going on about how you’re so enamored with me, and you keep trying to get me to jump overboard but- but why?! What could you hope to gain? Stringing me along for the ride, playing your twisted games-”

“What?!” Out of the corner of his eye, Virgil saw Roman’s eyes go wide as saucers. “My captain, my tempter, my beautiful anxious two-legged fool… do you really think so lowly of me? Are my affections all some ploy to you?”

Virgil winced, turning to face Roman fully. He expected the mer to look outraged, insulted even. What he didn’t expect was the pained pleading expression he got in return.

“It’s not so difficult a notion.” Virgil shrugged, hiding his shame behind the lip of his mug. “You have been hunting me for ages.”

Roman let out an offended gasp. “Hunting- how barbaric a notion! Courting, I’ve been courting you, my insufferable flame.”

Virgil all but choked on his drink.

“Or trying, at the very least.” Despite his bold words, Roman had gone rather red in the face as well. “A-and you should count yourself lucky that I continue to try! You haven’t exactly made yourself easy to woo.”

Virgil coughed down some more liquor, needing the liquid courage to get through this conversation. He coughed again, trying to regain his composure. “So- I ask again, why? Why keep ‘courting’ me-” Virgil found a sour taste on his tongue at such an outdated phrase- “if all I do is push you away? Why don’t you leave me alone?”

Roman’s tail agitated the water, a sign Virgil had learned meant the mer was feeling uncertain. It was a more common sight than the mer would ever admit. “I… surely you don’t mean that, do you?”

Virgil just raised an eyebrow, challenging him.

“I think of this as a game, I suppose, it’s true.” Roman admitted, his fingers trailing down into the water with an outstretched hand. “But I thought you were playing along. I guess a part of me always suspected that was just my wild fantasies, though.”

“Oh?” Virgil frowned.

“Why, you must think me terribly annoying.” Roman’s ear flaps flattened to his head as the mer sunk further down. “Perhaps I was the only one who… I wanted to be wanted. Is that so terrible? To imagine a smirk upon your features every time I surfaced? I know you slow the boat down when I’ve been missing, giving me the chance to catch up.”

“I do no such thing.” Virgil lied through his teeth.

Roman sunk further, clearly too stuck in his own gloomy thoughts to catch wind of Virgil’s terrible lie. He met the captain’s gaze, looking pitifully pathetic.

“If you truly want me to go, I’ll go.” Roman spoke softly. Virgil sucked in a breath. “I won’t chase you down any longer. You’ll be free of me. Is that what you wish?”

Virgil stared at him for a very long time, gazing deep into those beautiful brown eyes. He only found sincerity in their depths. Now was his chance to get rid of this mer once and for all; if he told Roman to go, he would never see the mer again.

“...no.” Virgil sighed. “That’s not what I want.”

It was quiet for a moment, only the rippling of the waves to be heard. And then, Roman leaned over and punched Virgil in the arm.

“Ow!” Virgil looked at him aghast, surprised by Roman’s strength. “What’s that about?”

“You jerk!” Roman hissed. “You rotten fiend-”

“What happened to oh captain, my captain-?”

“How dare you play with my heart like that!” Roman’s lip went out in the most adorable pout. “You made me actually doubt for a moment, thinking I had been nothing more than a burden to you all this time, wasting my best years on someone who didn’t care.”

Virgil had been teasing at first, wanting to rile up the fish to see what happened; he never meant to make Roman truly upset. “You’re right, that was cruel of me.”

“Hmph.” Roman turned away from him.

Virgil smirked, feeling more than a little emboldened by his booze. “Can I make it up to you with a gift?”

Roman’s ear flaps twitched, the mer sending him a glance. He gave Virgil a coy smile, poorly hiding his genuine excitement. “For moi?”

“Yup.” Virgil leaned closer, dropping his voice to a near whisper. “Virgil.” He leaned back, letting out a loud laugh at Roman’s befuddled expression. He took another swig of his drink, turning to head in for the night. “Wha- what does ‘Virgil’ mean?” Roman desperately asked.

“It’s my name, dumbass!” Virgil laughed over his shoulder. He turned back just long enough to drink in the look on Roman’s face, giving the shocked mer a hearty salute before closing his door.

The next morning, Virgil awoke with a pounding headache. He groaned, trying to stave off his hangover with some water as he headed to the deck. It didn’t help that every crew member he passed kept giving him a knowing smirk.

“Have a pleasant eve, Cap’n?” The deckhand asked, Virgil’s head tilted to take in the melody rising from the ocean. He groaned when he heard the words.

~ Arise my sweet Virgil,the pearl of the sea~

~Oh Virgil, my Virgil, forever we’ll be~

All variations of his usual songs, inserting Virgil’s name in as many places as possible. Clearly Roman had enjoyed his gift, no matter how much Virgil was beginning to regret it.

“And this is why you don’t talk to sirens, lads.” Virgil shook his head, muttering under his breath and refusing to head to that side of the ship as his cheeks turned scarlet. “Feed scraps to a hound and it will follow you to the end of your days.”

“Aye, and what a pup you’ve fed.” The lookout chuckled, gazing through an eyeglass back at the mer.

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missnmikaelson-main · 4 years

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A Year to Eternity - Chapter 3

Elena’s eyes darted from Caroline to Klaus curiously before settling on Elijah’s confused expression; he had no idea what his brother was doing at her house either.

“What’s going to be amusing?” She pressed a hand to her back, applying a light pressure to the ache near the base of her spine and mentally scolding herself for leaping to her feet so quickly.

She focused her gaze on Klaus, turning to face him fully. “What are you doing here?”

She thought she did an astounding job of keeping any and all accusations from her tone.

“Perhaps you could invite me in, love,” he pushed a hand against the barrier, “so I’m not speaking across the length of your house.”

“Are you going to threaten to burn my house to the ground if I don’t?” She arched an eyebrow, hearing the snide inflection in her voice.

The baby tapped out a staccato rhythm on her ribs.

As much as she wanted to deny him entry and step outside for whatever conversation he had in mind she decided against it, knowing she would live to regret her impulsive decision made by tired limbs.

“Come on in.”

He stepped inside and moved to the living room without pausing to look around.

“What do you want Klaus?” She crossed her arms over her stomach, feeling suddenly like a beached whale.

“What I want is your blood.”

Elena clicked her tongue. “Saw that one coming from a mile away.”

“I need it for a spell,” his jaw clicked. “Bonnie Bennett will only do it if you give your blood willingly.”

“You expect me to give you my blood for another spell?” Heat rose in her cheeks, but with it came a powerful sense of control. “You murdered my mother and my aunt, you indirectly killed my father, terrorized my town, used me as a human blood bag and you were going to kill me again. Do you really think I’m going to give you anything you want?”

“I’m sorry...”

She cut him off with a wry laugh. Her words came out sharp, ringing with a truth they all knew. “Oh please, we both know you’d do it again in a heartbeat without batting an eye.”

“You’re right,” he nodded solemnly, “I would, and I regret nothing with the exception of your aunt. That was an unfortunate necessity to draw you out after Damon’s interference.”

“That interference saved Tyler and Caroline.” His eyes widened. She wondered if he had ever known the first vampire Katherine provided him was Caroline. Would he have been able to kill her, or would he have been as captivated that first night as he was when he couldn’t let her die from Tyler’s bite?

From the corner of her eye she watched Caroline perch on the arm of the sofa and motion with her hand. A sharp backwards jab that Elijah steadfastly ignored. She felt his presence at her elbow.

Klaus shifted closer, staring into her hard eyes.

She knew he didn’t regret it. He would never regret it. For a thousand years he had been cut off from a part of who he was, denied his heritage. A piece of him had been missing and in a weird way she got it. Maybe if he had gone about things differently, asked for her help and provided Elijah’s elixir, she might have participated willingly - so long as nobody innocent filled the other roles: Kai Parker would have made an excellent candidate; she couldn’t say the world would have been worse off without him.

Of course nobody could ever hope to know.

The past was past.

“Elena, please?”

Her name sounded as foreign on his tongue as the show of manners. ‘Love’, ‘my lovely’, ‘doppelgänger’ and ‘my girl’ were his preferred monikers for her, but ‘Elena’ had only crossed his lips once. She remembered it clearly, the cold night, the lick of fire, and the numbing emptiness as Jenna’s death sank in; the sincerity with which he had thanked her remained nothing short of shocking. It was one of the few moments she had ever seen him vulnerable with his emotions laid bare.

She tried not to show how much her name affected her.

“She and Kol have found a way to save my daughter, and it requires your blood, willingly given,” he took a deep breath to help force out his words. “I’m here to ask for your help.”

She gripped her upper arms and narrowed her eyes at the man who had blown into her life and laid it in ruins at her feet. Every death caused by his siblings and even Katherine could be linked back to him and his curse breaking crusade. The sorrow he had caused still hit her from time to time at the oddest moments.

And now she had the opportunity to give him a taste of his own medicine. The life of someone he loved rested in her hands.

She imagined saying no and the rush of power that would give her. None of her friends would blame her for the decision; Elijah wouldn’t begrudge her for the choice, despite what it would mean for his family.

“I need your help, Elena, please?” She could have sworn she saw moisture in his eyes.

She was well within her rights to say no.

She had earned that no.

And then there was the flip side. Klaus might be a dick, and the evil hybrid who destroyed her sleepy little town, but his daughter was innocent. Hope Mikaelson was a fifteen year old with her life ahead of her and a father who loved her more than anything; the man had been willing to sacrifice his life so she could live.

And she’d already lost her mother.

Not that Elijah had any intention of letting her lose her father too.

“I’m begging you.”

She knew she couldn’t say no.

++++

Elena shivered in the blast of cold air and leaned forward to close the vents. The swell of her belly made the motion awkward and knocked her purse to the floor. She blinked down, between what she could see of her feet, considered bending to retrieve it and came to the decision neither she nor the baby would enjoy the experience.

“You know,” she walked her fingers across her stomach, earning a kick with every touch, “my car has the ventilation perfectly set, and my stomach doesn’t get in the way of driving.”

“Yes, but if you were in your car, driving by yourself, I would be returning to the school with Klaus and be unable to grill you with questions.” Caroline signalled to turn. Her eyes drifted to the rearview mirror for a glimpse of the Bentley’s headlights where two Originals followed them close enough to hear; she flipped on the radio. Jazz filled the car. “You really disappointed me back there.”

Elena adjusted the seatbelt, stopping it from digging into her windpipe.

“You thought I’d refuse to help Hope?” Her brows rose into her hairline, nearly disappearing behind her side swept bangs.

“Of course not,” she scoffed, rolling her neck around for Elena to see her expression.

“I knew that you’d help. She’s just a kid, so you were obviously going to help her. I just figured you’d make Klaus work for it a little more. Is it wrong that I was looking forward to watching him beg, and seeing you deny him? I thought for sure we’d have to utilize Elijah’s persuasive skills at some point.”

Caroline slowed for a stop sign and checked both directions before rolling into the intersection.

“I thought you’d be tickled pink by the thought of Klaus incased in concrete somewhere at the bottom of the ocean.” Her jaw clicked.

“You really think Elijah would have let him go through with it?” She braced her forehead on the window and caught a glimpse of his dark outline in the mirror.

Her breath fogged up the glass: “stupid, freaking, martyr.”

“I’m gonna let that one go,” Caroline glanced over.

Elena flushed and blamed the pregnancy hormones for her next words because she refused to be the only one blushing in the car.

“If you’re so eager to hear Klaus beg for anything, I’m sure you could think of something else that will have him pleading harder with each subsequent denial.”

Caroline’s alabaster cheeks burned red.

Elena smirked. “You’ve thought about it,” she tittered, “minus utilizing Elijah’s persuasive talents.”

“You’ve thought about Elijah’s persuasive talents,” Caroline shot back.

It made little sense in terms of what they alluded to, but Elena understood the middle school comeback, so rather than burst into giggles her flush deepened; she cursed the day she told Caroline about her recurring dream that had only gotten steamier with the addition of hormones.

“You’re cruel,” she ducked, hiding her embarrassed grin.

“You started it,” she tossed her hands up from the wheel for a second in a shrug. “What was Elijah doing at your place?”

“Catching up.”

“Not turning your fantasy into a reality?”

“Of course not!” Her heart thundered loudly in her ears. He had of course fulfilled one of her dreams, but since the domestic fantasies had never been shared with Caroline her words remained true.

“So, Elijah decides he’s gonna play self-sacrificing big brother and instead of spending his last hours on earth with his family he goes to visit you?” Caroline leaned against the headrest.

“What’s your point?” Her nails scratched the seatbelt, catching in the tiny grooves.

“You haven’t psychoanalyzed that yet?” She fluttered her lashes.

“I only found out a few minutes before you arrived, and I was too busy yelling at him because there was no way in hell I was letting him go through with it.” Pressure built in her chest. “And now all I can think about is the spell Kol helped Bonnie make, and how I’m a central part of it.”

“I guess that means you also haven’t considered why ‘there was no way in hell’ you weren’t letting him do it either?” She tapped the wheel.

“Have you thought about why you wouldn’t let Klaus do it?” She countered.

“I know exactly why and if he were actually going through with plan A then I might even tell him, but we’re not going through with that so I don’t feel the pressing need to reveal the inner workings of my mind.”

Elena twisted to look over her shoulder and through the window.

“He knows,” she sighed, “even if you can’t say it. Deep down, he knows.”

She found Caroline’s soft eyes on her, all teasing gone from her face. “He knows, too.”

Before she got a chance to dispute that, the entertainment system dimmed for an incoming call. Caroline used the controls on the wheel to answer.

“Hey, Bonnie.”

“Hey, are you on your way?”

“Yeah, I’ve got Elena with me,” she flipped her turn signal, skirting the town square.

“Hey, Bonnie,” she raised her voice to reach the speaker.

“Hey. I have a confession to make.”

“You’re having a steamy affair with a Mikaelson,” Elena breathed.

“Wow, you really need to get laid.”

“Elijah would probably oblige,” Caroline smirked.

“Whats the confession Bon?” She glared at her friend.

“It’s about the spell. Right now your blood is tainted by the cure which makes it less… reliable.”

“I think I know where this is going,” she sighed, turning her attention to Caroline. “You want it?”

“Not even a little bit,” her nose wrinkled.

“Didn’t think so. Pull in here,” she nodded to a charcoal awning. “I’ll take care of it Bonnie.”

Caroline ended the call and put the car in park. She eyed the darkened window, momentarily illuminated by Elijah’s headlights.

“What are you gonna do?”

“Potentially put myself into early labour.” She pushed open her door and stood, feeling her back pop.

“At thirty-seven weeks you’re gonna induce,” Caroline shook her head. “Technically you’re at term.”

She dug through her purse for her keys and sorted out the ring until she had the right one. “Do I need to tell you who to call?”

“I think I got it,” she nodded, already flicking through her contacts.

Elena left her to her devices and moved to the building. A fine layer of dust clung to the office, mocking her neglect of hard to reach corners on the desk. She made a note to ask the cleaner to come in twice a week instead of one.

That was if she didn’t ultimately decide to shut down and sell the practice.

Dr. Elena Gilbert once held a nice ring to it, but long ago it began to feel like someone else’s vision of her life. She wasn’t sure she wanted to make a career out of another person’s dream. Maybe she would write or teach, or do any number of things that wouldn’t turn her into her dad.

She loved him, and she missed him everyday, but there was no denying that Grayson Gilbert missed a lot of his children’s lives.

She didn’t want her daughter growing up to wonder when Mommy would be home from work, especially without a daddy to fill in the gaps.

But she shook off those thoughts. The clock ticked; she would have time to think later. Fetching a couple of syringes, she walked back onto the street before Klaus could race in and demand to know what the hold-up was.

++++

Rebekah met them at the front door, bouncing from one stiletto to the other. Kol stood at her side, dark brows drawn over darker eyes.

Her stomach twisted. The last time she had seen that type of intensity on his face he had been driving a railing through her body. Her baby kicked the throbbing spot, somehow managing to touch every place the wood scraped.

The set of his mouth appeared more urgent than murderous, so she took a deep breath to relax as she opened the door.

Elijah’s hand appeared before she could command her legs to move, and she took it, enjoying the brief contact. It lasted only as long as it took to stand and refocus her balance.

Then she had the privilege of watching Kol’s eyes grow wide and his mouth pop open. She let herself enjoy the moment for a second and then focused.

“Does Bonnie have the spell ready?” She hooked her purse over her shoulder.

“She and Freya are putting the finishing touches on it,” Rebekah nodded, “they just need your blood.”

“Where are they?” Caroline moved towards the school.

“In your office,” Kol moved with her, eyes darting back to Elena.

She hoped he felt little to no residual, well deserved, rage because she suspected Elijah would place himself between her and potential danger to her child, and she had no desire to kick off another feud between brothers.

She glanced at the spell, arranged in an ash circle before the sister she had never met. The complexity laid beyond her level of magical comprehension, and she lacked the time to ask. At least she assumed she lacked the time based on the patient.

Hope reclined in a red leather armchair, eyes closed and extraordinarily pale.

She took the desk chair and rolled up her sleeve.

“Does anyone else know how to draw blood?” She brought out the neatly packed syringes and a tourniquet, finishing off her supplies with an alcohol swab.

“After a thousand years we are rather proficient,” Klaus murmured, laying the back of his hand on Hope’s brow; she shifted, but didn’t open her eyes.

“I meant with a syringe,” she rolled her eyes. “I was a vampire for a few years and once the cure is gone those years will catch up. I don’t know how fast it will happen, but there is a decent chance that I’ll be inducing labour and I’d rather not give birth with a stinging vampire bite or a large cut on my arm.”

“I can do it,” Rebekah picked up the tourniquet. She tied off Elena’s arm, and swabbed the vein; she had the syringe in place before addressing the surprised looks. “I did spend a year as a nurse; I had to do this a few times.”

Elena watched the clear tube fill and stopped Rebekah before she could clip the second in place.

“I think that has to be taken first,” she frowned, directing her gaze to Bonnie.

“Better safe than sorry,” she nodded, raising an eyebrow at Freya.

“I’m of the same mind,” she poured black sand around the knife.

Elena turned her attention back to Rebekah, expecting her to inject the cure without a second thought. It was the only thing she had wanted her entire life from the moment she learned what her mother had truly done to them. Yet hesitation turned her pretty features as she glanced from the blood to the left, half-turning to look towards her brothers.

“Rebekah!” Klaus snapped, but she wasn’t looking at him.

Her eyes were focused on Kol between glances towards the syringe.

“Did I miss something?” Elena whispered, finding Elijah’s gaze; he shook his head and shrugged.

Kol swore under his breath, almost too quiet for her human ears, before plucking the syringe from his sister.

She turned back towards Elena.

She watched the soft play of emotions as Rebekah’s stiff shoulders quaked. The dejected sigh went straight to her heart. The sound cut off in a strangled gasp; her eyes darted to the syringe in the blonde’s neck as Rebekah’s lashes fluttered when she fell.

Cold rushed through Elena’s body, pouring over her head and racing up from her toes. It poured from the pinprick in her forearm and she swore she saw a wave leave her body, crashing onto Rebekah’s falling form.

Kol carried her to a short sofa and stretched his sister out.

Elena squeezed her eyes against nausea and exhaustion. She peeked out through her lashes when large hands covered her thighs; a little more energy and she might have flushed at finding Elijah on his knees in front of her.

“Elena?” His thumbs drew circles atop her leggings.

“I’m good,” she swallowed, “pass me the other syringe?” Her fingers shook.

Elijah took over, taking the needle and slipping it into her vein. He filled it with blood, tossed the second syringe to Freya and untied the tourniquet.

He attempted to place a cotton swab on the dot of blood.

Elena’s fingers twisted, digging into his hard biceps. She breathed fast through her nose and clenched her jaw tight against the contraction.

There was a specific way to breathe. How was she supposed to breathe?

Blood stained his shirt sleeves when she let go.

“Is that enough for the spell?” She blew out a fast stream of air.

The pads of her fingers replaced her sharp nails, but if she left bruises instead of cuts she would never know because Elijah voiced no complaints. She wasn’t sure she would have heard it anyway, too busy clenching her teeth against the pain.

Shouldn’t the contraction end at some point?

Precipitous labour, her brain supplied. Should have seen that one coming.

“We’re about to find out,” Bonnie muttered.

Elena blinked, catching movement as the witches joined hands. She felt the static charge of magic in the air, pulling towards the knife as they chanted.

“Are you going to release Elijah, darling?” Kol drawled, carefully pulling blonde hair from Rebekah’s mouth.

“Nope,” she went for a head shake, but the motion made the pain worse. She couldn’t see what Kol did, nor hear what he muttered. Whatever it was proved enough to earn a sharp reprimand from Elijah.

She felt her hands tugged away and squeezed hard enough to break Elijah’s fingers.

“Is that enough blood?” Elijah reclaimed one hand and shifted, carefully maneuvering to rub the small of her back.

“Yes,” Bonnie looked up from the knife.

“You don’t need anymore?” Urgency laced his tone. “You’re certain?”

The conversation flew back and forth. She needed a hospital. Bonnie needed to put the final seals on the spell with Freya. Caroline needed to bring the girls. Alaric needed to hover and make sure the twins remained safe, not the he could have done anything if they weren’t.

And then she knew what it was to be weightless in Elijah’s arms as he carried her to the car and placed her in the passenger seat.

“I’ll ruin the fabric if my water breaks,” she flushed.

“You have more important things to think about right now,” he fastened her seatbelt.

++++

The full moon’s light filtered through the blinds in the large window, making it a few inches into the sterile space; florescent lights drowned out the celestial event.

She couldn’t see where it was, but she suspected it had risen beyond its apex.

Her fingers curled around the bed rail.

Tired eyes flickered from the cupboard holding her clothes to the well worn visitor’s chair and her concerned visitor. He appeared at once comfortable and out of place.

“How do you feel?” Elijah tilted his head.

“I just had a giant needle jabbed in my spine,” she hummed, “I feel numb.”

She allowed herself a moment to close her eyes as the drug worked its magic. It had the added benefit of cutting off their eye contact. He grew up in a time long before the existence of the epidural when women felt every contraction. His mother did it seven times. Tatia and Katherine both did it without aid.

She lasted an hour, less when she took begging for the drugs the moment they were inside, into account.

“Do you think I’m weak?” She directed the question to the IV.

“Why would I ever think that?” His brows drew together.

“Giant needle…” her lip curled.

“I think,” he began, unbuttoning his jacket, “that you were in tremendous pain and that if you gave me a month I could provide you a list a mile long of women who would have jumped for an epidural; including your own ancestor.”

“Tatia?” Her eyes narrowed. She pushed her head into the pillow. “Seriously.”

“You could hear her screams from the falls, and I am not speaking figuratively. I had taken Rebekah and Henrik swimming, ten and six at the time, when Niklaus heard the first scream. I had to strain to catch the sound. We thought the village was under attack.” Nostalgia graced his smile, tinted with sadness. “Mother gave us an earful for leaving a thirteen year old Kol in charge of our younger siblings.”

“Irresponsible?” She guessed, glancing to the machine keeping track of her contractions.

“Poor swimmer,” he chuckled. “Rebekah had a habit of swimming under the falls.”

“I used to do that,” she sighed, tightening her arm over her stomach, “there’s a little cave back there.” She blinked back tears as a contraction tore through the pain meds.

“Little more than a ledge, I’d say.”

“You’ve been?” She drew in a sharp breath.

“I did grow up here,” his smirk turned serious, “you’re not weak, Elena.”

“Thanks,” she smiled, fiddling with the hospital bracelet. “You don’t have to stay, you know? I’m okay, and I’m sure you’re dying to check on Hope.”

“Hope is surrounded by family who will immediately let me know if something goes wrong,” he reasoned. “And I do have to stay. I won’t leave you here alone.”

“I should probably get used to being alone,” she chewed her bottom lip, chomping down hard enough to bruise. Her hand curled over her belly as she sighed. “Sort of alone.”

He reached out and placed his hand near hers on the rail, not quite touching her fingers; the heart monitor jumped.

“You should never get used to being alone in any capacity.”

“I don’t see another option right now.” She tried for a wry smile.

“Aren’t you the one who was screaming there’s always another option?” He teased.

“That was different,” she shook her head. Her eyes widened when he covered her fingers.

“You gave me an option Elena, and now I’m giving you one. Now that I have the time, since I won’t be sinking to the bottom of the deepest ocean, I would offer you my support.” He gently squeezed her fingers. “You have it Elena, whatever that may entail; be it help in the dead of night when she won’t sleep, or finding out what the hell happened to you.”

Her breath caught in her throat.

“Or overhauling that nursery so you don’t have to be confused every time you put her to bed.” His thumb rubbed her wrist. “Whatever you need Elena. I give you my word.”

“Elijah,” she choked on his name and blinked back tears that she blamed on her hormones. Her sparkling eyes flicked, searching his gaze for honesty just for something to do; she knew he was honest, and that he would keep his word. “You knew it was me in Willoughby?”

“Yes,” he nodded.

“Why?” Her chest rose and fell with shaky breaths.

His eyes fell to her hospital bracelet and back to her face.

“Because I’m a very selfish man,” he sighed, “and if I thought for a second that I could get away with it I’d do it again, but that’s not likely to happen.”

Her mind flashed back to the gazebo. She felt his strong hand on her jaw and the slant of his hungry mouth; soft, exploratory and oddly gentle with a tongue that whispered sinful promises.

The question travelled up her throat and sat heavily on the tip of her tongue: ‘what if that’s what I need?’.

The door burst open before she could ask and she was forced to break their heavy stare to watch Caroline and Bonnie skid across the linoleum.

“We’ve got it from here,” Bonnie reached for her hand as Elijah let go.

“How’s Hope?” Elena blinked, swallowing her question; the moment had passed.

“She’s fine,” Caroline directed the response between them.

Elena wondered if she had been listening.

“The vessel held?” Elijah’s fingers brushed her arm.

“Yeah,” Bonnie nodded, “Kol’s keeping it safe for the time being.”

“Klaus is seeing Hope through the transformation,” Caroline explained, “and Rebekah is getting a full physical from a compelled doctor in 402.”

“I suppose I’ll go check on her.” He locked eyes with Elena on his way out, and she understood that he wouldn’t go far.

@elejahforever @elejah-wonderland @naughtynecromancer @ethanjwillis @cry-btch@geekofmanyfandoms @morsmornte @xanderling @bellemorte180 @iw1shiknew@blndbandt@petrova-banz @bulldozed88 @njeancastro316

#elejah #klaroline #Klaus mikaelson #Elena gilbert #Elijah mikaelson #Caroline forbes #freya mikaelson #rebekah mikaelson #kol mikaelson #bonnie bennett #kennett #klaulena

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superhusbands-superfan · 5 years

Note

200 prompt fest- a shifter AU with a de-aged stony twist. Stony can either be pining for each other and get together at the end or established from the beginning. You can choose the shifted forms- I just think de-aging would also be cute because their shifts would be de-aged too :) happy ending always

Hi lovely! Thanks for the prompt ❤️.

You all work MUCH faster than I was expecting and I actually broke 200 followers on Sunday. I apologize for the delay in fics, but I want them to be quality for you all before I post them. You’re amazing, and I love you guys! Thanks so much for your support.

@queene36 I’m not sure if this is exactly what you were going for, but I hope I was able to get it close enough that you still enjoy it. This is totally unlike anything I’ve ever written before, so if you like it, pretty please with cherries on top let me know 😉.

Reasons to Hate Magic (And Maybe One Reason Not To)

“Not. One. Word,” Clint said, his voice hard and unyielding, before Nat could even open her mouth to say a word. “It’s a very long story, and with any luck, Thor will be returning with a magical cure any minute now.”

“Right…” Nat said, one perfect eyebrow arched high in amusement. “So Tony is…?”

“He refuses to get down,” Clint said, looking at the ridiculously tiny kitten perched on his shoulder. “And don’t even try to move him — every time someone does I nearly get my shoulder clawed off. Thanks for that, Tony.”

Nat pursed her lips to contain a laugh. Sounded like Tony, after all.

“Not to mention every time someone so much as looks at him, this one — “ Clint nudges his foot into the ribs of the wolf puppy laying, but not sleeping, at his feed. “ — goes absolutely batshit.”

As if to underscore the point, the pup raised its head to appraise Natasha. Though she hadn’t moved even a foot closer since entering the room, it growled in warning.

“See?!” Clint burst out, pushing the animal a few inches away with his foot. He was irritated but still gentle with the gangly pup. “Like Jesus Christ, Steve give it a rest.”

“I’m not going to touch him,” Nat said in an attempt to appease all parties. “Honest.”

Steve glared at Natasha wearily — somehow even in shifted form, even as a puppy he still had his trademark Captain America Is Keeping An Eye On You Face.

“I just want him to get down,” Clint said with a distressed expression on his face. “I can’t move with him here or Steve’ll chew my leg off or something.”

Steve growled in warning.

“This would be easier if you both just turned back into children,” Clint said with the exhaustion of a man who’d been making the same argument for hours. “Just until Thor gets back. So you can, you know, talk.”

“They probably can’t control it,” Nat pointed out. “Not at this age. It’s too unpredictable.”

“Yeah, I’ve gathered as much.” Clint sighed. “A guy can dream, though.”

“How’d you get stuck watching them anyway?”

“Everyone — and I do mean everyone — fled. I had things somewhat under control for about half an hour.

“But it took Tony, who was still a human child at that point, mind you — if you can even call a 3-year-old genius ‘human’ — a total of six minutes to take apart the toaster. Then it took about eight more for him to build Steve his very own robot, and apparently, the gift-giving caused far too much excitement because next thing I knew Tony was clawing his way up to his current perch and the symphony of growling began. That was four hours ago.”

Nat snorted. Okay, so he’d done his fair share.

“All right, well I’m here now. Why don’t you take a break?”

Clint gestured at Tony silently.

Nat walked over and steadfastly ignored Steve’s increasingly loud protests.

“Hey, Tony. Can you get down for me, please?” Nat asked, using a tone that was soft, but still more order than request.

With a tiny sigh, Tony pulled himself languidly up onto his four paws, stretched for a moment, and jumped from Clint’s shoulder to the couch cushion. His tail twitched playfully. Natasha suspected he’d kept Clint trapped for hours on purpose.

“Thank you.” Nat looked from the brown kitten to Clint. “Get out of here. I’ve got this.”

Clint didn’t need to be told twice. He raced out of the room without looking back.

Nat smiled after him, still a little amused by the situation, and when she turned back to take his seat on the couch she startled.

Steve had silently hopped on the couch when no one was paying attention and curled up in the corner. And apparently Tony had seen that as an opportunity to be seized, judging by the way he was approaching the fluffy gray wolf pup.

Keeping a careful eye on Steve’s reaction, Tony climbed up onto his back and curled into the soft fur.

Nat smiled. It was kind of the most precious thing she’d ever seen.

“JARVIS?” Nat said, voice soft.

“Would you like a photograph Agent Romanoff?”

“Several. Please.”

Another few hours, one failed attempt at a cure, a return trip to Asgard, and Thor was back with the right concoction to turn Steve and Tony back to their respective ages.

“Ugh,” Tony blurted the minute he was back in human — adult human — form. “I hate magic. I hate it.”

“You can say that again,” Steve agreed readily. He glanced at the fridge. “I need food.”

“You and me both,” Tony said. No one really preferred eating in their shifted forms, and they’d been stuck that way for nearly an entire day. “JARVIS, I want two giant pizzas in the next fifteen minutes.”

“On it, Sir.”

“In the meantime, Steve would you care to join me in raiding the fridge?”

“Absolutely.” Steve glanced at Thor. “And thanks, Thor, for the save.”

“Yes, how could I forget,�� Tony said, grinning over his shoulder. “Thank you for saving us from having to grow up a second time. I’m honestly not sure I could’ve managed it, setting aside the whole ‘apparently toddlers can’t control their shifted forms’ business. Which sucks, by the way. Even if Steve does make an incredibly comfortable, fluffy place for a catnap.”

Steve snorted a little. “Thanks. I think.”

“It was a compliment,” Tony said flirtatiously. Steve flushed.

“Ooooookay,” Bruce said, glancing between Tony and Steve. “You two are definitely back to your versions of normal which means I’m officially done with babysitting duty.” He made a beeline for his lab.

“Hey!” Tony protested lightly. He pulled open the fridge and surveyed their options. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Steve didn’t even question it. He just said, “Thanks, Bruce.”

“It means you’re back to flirting outrageously and refusing to do anything about it,” Clint chimed in from… somewhere. Probably those damn vents.

Tony glared at the ceiling. “Stay in your lane, Katniss. No one asked you.” He passed Steve a package of half-eaten lunch meat.

Not ideal, but it would work until the pizza arrived.

Steve grabbed a slice of turkey, rolled it up, and popped it in his mouth. Silence fell in the kitchen as Bruce disappeared, Clint faded back into the shadows, and Thor… left. Probably heading for either Jane or Asgard.

Tony spread some peanut butter on a piece of wheat bread.

“Sorry, by the way,” Steve said, sounding a little uneasy. “About the whole… overprotective thing.”

Tony shrugged it off, smiling. “Don’t worry about it. I didn’t mind. I was much smaller than I’m used to being, so it didn’t hurt. Knowing you had my back and all, even if we were just up against the team.”

Steve grinned. “I’ll always have your back, Tony.”

“I know.” Tony said it easily as if that fact was just one of the many scientific laws of the universe he respected so much. Then he hesitated a little, looked a less grounded and sure. “You uh. You know I have yours too, right?”

“Oh,” Steve said, surprised. “Yeah, I know that Tony.”

“Good,” Tony said. He looked at Steve, dark eyes wide and darting from Steve’s face to other parts of the room nervously. “That’s… that’s…”

“Good?” Steve guessed.

“Yes.” Tony nodded. And kept nodding. “Good.”

Steve was getting worried. He stepped closer to Tony, trying to get him to focus. “Tony, is everything okay?”

Tony looked at his feet for a second, then up at Steve.

They both froze. Suddenly, they were much closer than either expected, practically sharing the same air.

Tony met Steve’s gaze for a split second. He looked at Steve’s mouth and decided it was finally time for him to take a chance.

Tony leaned forward ever so slightly and kissed Steve.

It happened so fast Steve almost could have imagined it. Just the slightest brush of Tony’s lips against his.

Steve’s heart nearly stopped.

“Sorry,” Tony whispered, refusing to look Steve in the eye now. He started to take a step back, but Steve’s hand shot out to grab his wrist and stop him.

“Why would you be sorry?” Steve asked, his voice soft.

“Because I just kissed you?”

“There’s no reason to apologize for that.”

“No?”

“No,” Steve said, finally smiling as wide as he wanted to. “No reason at all.”

Tony smiled, his grin probably matching Steve’s in size. “You sure?”

“Very sure.” Steve nodded. “Come here,” he said, and pulled Tony closer, into another (longer) kiss.

Fin.

(If anyone is wondering, Tony’s shifted form appears to be a brown, shorthaired housecat. Might I have taken some inspiration from Captain Marvel in terms of Tony’s true shifted form? It’s possible. It’s very very possible)

#stony fic #steve tony fic #superhusbands fic #stevetony #stony #de-aged #shifter au #superhusbands superfan writes #ss replies #thanks for the prompt!!

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gimmesumsuga · 6 years

Text

Sweeter than Sweet (3)

Pairing: Jimin x reader + others as the story progresses

Warnings: None to note.

Word count: 4K

*Chapter edited as of 10/10/20*

Previous / Next

It takes three days, two units of blood and one statement to the police before you’re finally discharged from the hospital in which you'd awoken the following morning. Dazed and disorientated despite all the time you've spent confined to bed in the name of recovery, you're unsteady as you leave the ward; woozy every time you stand, pulse racing as your heart desperately tries to compensate for your woefully low iron stores.

Technically, you shouldn’t really be leaving at all. The doctors had advised you against self-discharging but you’re sure you would’ve gone mad if you'd have had to spend one more night staring at the same four white walls any longer. They’d reluctantly agreed to your release on the proviso that there was someone to help you at home and you’d nodded and smiled as you’d told them all about the arrangements you’d made for your mother to come and stay; to aid your recovery with warm hugs and all chicken noodle soup you can eat. Which was a lie, of course. You've not spoken to any of your family in years; not since you neglected to follow in your sister's footsteps and chose to take a job in a quaint little cafe in the centre of town rather than jet off to university as they’d always hoped you would. They were not pleased, to say the least.

The only person that knows about your stay is Sam. Apparently, the discovery of your body limp and (almost) lifeless by the canal side had caused quite the stir and she’d forced herself into the ambulance with you whether the paramedics had liked it or not, sobbing her apologies and promising that you’d never, ever, ever leave her sight again. Not that she was in any way responsible, of course; you should’ve known better than to wander off with a stranger, handsome or not.

And then, after all the crying was over, her questions had begun. Much like police, Sam had wanted to know about every little detail, and you could see her trying to mask her frustration as you’d found yourself at a loss for what to say. You’re certain that if you’d have started raving about pale skin and pointy teeth you’d have ended up being transferred to a hospital with far tighter security than the first – one with nice padded walls and multi-coloured pills to calm you down. No, best not to mention what everyone’s already thinking anyway, unwilling to say the word out loud for fear of just how ridiculous it sounds. What other reason could there be for the two-pronged bite marks you’re covered in and the amount of blood you’ve lost?

Thankfully, the fact that you remain so steadfastly unhelpful means that the matter gets dropped remarkably quickly. Maybe the authorities would rather not know just as much as you’d rather not say. ‘My drink must’ve been spiked’ is what you tell them: ‘can’t remember a thing’. You certainly don’t recall what your attacker looked like when they ask for his description, and he most definitely didn’t tell you his name.

It takes far longer than usual for you to climb the staircase to your apartment door, and as soon as you get inside you’re sliding down it and onto the floor, bag landing at your side. Taking the stairs was a bad idea; your head won’t stop spinning - spots dancing in front of your eyes - and it’s not until you lean forward to put your head between your knees and take some slow, deep breaths that the dizziness gradually starts to subside.

Why the hell are you protecting the man that reduced you to this? It’s not the first time you’ve asked yourself this question, but no matter how many times you ask it you still can’t seem to find the answer as to why you played ignorant with the police. You’d like to pretend that you’re being noble - protecting those that might be foolish enough try to track Jimin down - but somehow, deep down, you know that’s not it. There’s a dark feeling lurking in the bottom of your gut that tells you so.

It’s only now, in the safety of your own home, that you can silently admit to yourself that some sick, twisted little part of you actually enjoyed being bitten. Yes, you were scared - terrified, in fact, for that moment when you thought that you really might die - but mostly, you just felt… alive. Being wanted by Jimin - so ardently desired, whether that be for your body or your blood - has awakened something in you that you haven’t yet given a name. All you know is that you liked it; the out of body weightlessness when you were on the verge of fainting; the rush of endorphins that flooded through you as your body fought to soothe the pain. Just the memory of it has you tingling all over, hairs rising on end.

“So, so fucked up,” you murmur, finally looking up from your knees to gaze across your empty apartment, shoulders rising and falling with a sigh. Knowing better now than to rush and risk passing out, you slowly rise to stand and then shuffle towards the bathroom, discarding your jacket along the way. After nothing but showers for three days, perhaps a long, hot soak in the bath might help to make you feel a little more human again.

Human. You chuckle bitterly as the word crosses your mind. You should’ve known Jimin was anything but from the moment he’d caught your eye. No wonder he’d looked so otherworldly; his looks designed to lower your guard and draw you in. He was the perfect predator, and you? You were oh so willing to be his prey that you practically served yourself up on a silver platter, ‘eat me’ written across your forehead.

You sigh heavily, pulling off your t-shirt as the bathroom fills with steam, and catch sight of your reflection in the mirror as your head re-emerges. You grimace at how pale you look - how drawn. You’re sure that the dark circles under your eyes were never so noticeable before, but frankly, they’re the least of your concerns. More startling than your complexion is the marks that linger at the juncture where your shoulder meets your neck; four scabbed over puncture wounds surrounded by deep purple bruises that look nastier than the bites themselves.

Jimin really made a mess of you, didn’t he?

You run your fingertips over the bruises, wincing as it stings but carrying on nonetheless. If you close your eyes it’s almost like you can feel him there; Jimin’s phantom breath cool against your skin, his mouth just a whisper away, sharp fangs tucked behind his lips, ready and poised to sink –

Awakening from your daydream with a gasp, you lock eyes with your reflection as they snap open, startled wide. The girl looking back at you is so alien; bitten lips, pupils dilated with lust; her chest rising and falling in quick and shallow succession at the mere thought of Jimin touching you again. It’s ridiculous, the way your body is reacting like this, and you shake your head as you force yourself to look away from the mirror and the traces of Jimin he left behind.

You must be a hell of a lot more screwed up than you ever gave yourself credit for, to be thinking like this…

The heat of the water eases your aching muscles as you sink into the tub, submerging yourself as deep as you possibly can amongst the Lavender scented suds. You shut your eyes and attempt to relax - to fill your mind with normal, pleasant thoughts - but it’s just no use. No matter which direction you attempt to steer your thoughts they always lead back to Jimin in the end, and perhaps that shouldn’t be a surprise, given how little else you’ve got going on; just the monotony of unemployment and a non-existent love life. The desire to see him again is overwhelming, even knowing full well that to seek him out would be stupid and reckless to the nth degree, but no matter how often you tell yourself that throughout the days that follow, it’s an idea you just can’t shake. You can’t forget how it felt to have that adrenaline coursing through your veins - to be in his arms and feel the weight of his desire pressing against you.

It takes over a week of Jimin invading your dreams for you to finally give in to the want to seek him out, but once you finally make your choice (irrational as it may be) you find yourself filled with a new and rare sense of determination. You’ll go back there again tonight, you decide, loathe to waste any more time, and as you head back to the scene of the crime later that same evening, you’re full of confidence and purpose you’ve never before possessed. It’s amazing what a brush with death has done for your attitude; as you part the crowd on your way to the bar you no longer care what any of these people might think of you. There’s only one person’s attention you want - only one opinion that really counts - and it’s like everyone else can sense that, drawn to this newfound confidence of yours. Suddenly, eyes that would have once glossed over you are taking long, appraising looks, and men are making room for you to stand between them at the bar, willingly allowing you to skip the queue with wide, inviting smiles.

Not that you’re interested in drinking, anyway. You’re still a little dizzy as it is, and you’ll need to keep a clear, sober head tonight. You scan the bar up and down carefully as the floor beneath you vibrates in time to the bass, only to release the hopeful, bated breath you’d been holding when you realise Jimin is nowhere to be seen. Of course, he’s not so foolish as to return so quickly and risk being recognised by the men that came to your rescue on hearing you scream that night. You feel ridiculous, now, for even hoping that he might. Disappointment weighs heavier in your stomach than any relief you might feel in knowing you’re safe, your shoulders slumping as you turn to face the crowd, leaning your weight against the bar. You feel so tired all of a sudden, hit square in the chest by the ache of loneliness you usually ignore so well.

You really had hoped…

Suddenly, the sound of raucous laughter grabs your attention and you look up from your feet, searching for the source until your eyes land on a booth on the edge of the dancefloor at which a large number of people are sat, their heads thrown back with glee. Howling and shrieking like coyotes, the gaggle of women there drink champagne straight from the bottles, egging each other on to drink more and laugh louder as you watch on from across the room. There must be at least a bottle per person resting atop of their table, with more than that to spare, and if the way they’re falling about all over each other is anything to go by, they’ve already had more than enough.

You roll your eyes, about to turn away, when a man appears from in amongst them. He stands, a champagne bottle in each hand, and with a large grin on his face proceeds to pour alcohol into the open, waiting mouths of the women that crowd around him. It doesn’t seem to matter that more of it is spilling down their fronts and onto the floor than is actually being drunk, neither to the women nor this mystery man. They seem captivated by him, hanging onto his arms and his legs like climbing, chattering monkeys, and as he sits back down they cuddle their way up to him, eager to be ever closer. One of them leans in to whisper something in his ear, and it doesn’t take a genius to guess what kind of those words might be, judging by the smirk they garner.

There’s no way this guy is human. Somehow you just know it - your instincts warn you of the fact even after just a few seconds - though undoubtedly he seems very different from Jimin at first glance. Jimin kept his distance, silently and stealthily selecting his prey until he was ready to strike, whereas this man seems to revel in being the centre of attention. If it weren’t for the tell-tale pale perfection of his skin and his inhuman good looks you probably never would have suspected him, so different is his behaviour from the vampire you met before.

Although… no, perhaps you would’ve. As you continue to watch him from a distance, you realise that it’s the look in his eyes that would’ve still eventually given him away. You’d recognise that expression anywhere after seeing it first hand; that hunger with which his eyes rake over exposed skin. It’s that look that reveals him as the wolf in sheep’s clothing he really is.

You must be staring too hard, or maybe for too long, because suddenly he sharply looks up, his gaze finding yours with a quickness that’s startling. He frowns at first, as he takes you in, but within seconds a wide, charming smile appears on his face, one long arm rising above the tide of women to wave you over; an invite for you to come on over and join his harem. Your confidence suddenly slips at the gesture, nerves twisting in your stomach, and you have to take a moment to get a grip and remind yourself that this is what you came here for - this was what you wanted. What’s the likelihood of two vampires making this same place their hunting grounds and not knowing one another other? This is your best shot. You have to take it, else you’ll never see Jimin again.

Despite all your baser instincts telling you to run you find your feet doing the opposite, and as you arrive at the table’s edge the man greets you warmly, smiling like a cherub.

“Hello beautiful!” he exclaims, his accent similar to Jimin’s but slightly lower in tone. “Come! Sit! Join us!” One of the girls sitting next to him does not look amused at being so easily dismissed but nonetheless, she takes his hint, sliding over to make room for you as he pats the small space at his side that once belonged to her. “Here, have a drink,” this Pied Piper offers as you sit beside him, sliding a whole bottle your way with a playful wink, and despite the fear lurking in the back of your mind you can’t help but smile.

“Maybe just one,” you say sweetly, and he laughs with delight at how easily you’ve been convinced as he fetches you a glass from the far side of the table, filling it to the brim with champagne with an exaggerated flourish and then discarding the now empty bottle back into the ice bucket from whence it came.

“You’ll love it,” he promises as he relaxes back into the leather seats, running his fingers through the autumnal shaded strands of his hair. “I promise.” He passes you the glass, your fingers brushing as he does, and you have to force yourself to keep from flinching at the familiar chill of his skin. You raise your glass and take a meagre sip to disguise your discomfort, swallowing hard. “I’m Hoseok,” he grins, his bright eyes twinkling, “But you can call me Hobi. Or Hope. Whichever.”

You introduce yourself in turn, smiling back coyly, and Hoseok seems to take that as an indicator of your willingness to chat. He fires question after question and tells joke after joke, a veritable chatterbox - much to the dismay of the girls he’s now ignoring. The only let up you get is when his attention is stolen away when he hears a song that he likes and distracted, he’ll get up from his seat and dance right there next to you, circling his narrow hips and raising his hands in the air, his facial expressions nothing short of lewd.

He and Jimin couldn’t be more different if they tried, you decide. Jimin was all sex and seduction, whereas Hoseok takes advantage of his natural charm and playfulness to disarm the women around him. In fact, if it weren’t for the fact you’d met Jimin first you can easily imagine how you, too, might’ve fallen under Hoseok’s spell. His laughter and enthusiasm is so infectious that it’d be all too easy to forget why you came here in the first place, or just how dangerous he is behind all these sweet, beguiling smiles.

It doesn’t take long, though, before you’re reminded. After the novelty of your arrival has worn off Hoseok starts paying special attention to one girl in particular - Eve, you think you’d heard him call her - and she’s clearly smitten, glued to his side despite her friends having left to dance a little while ago. He sits with his back to you, obscuring Eve from your view, but you can see enough to know he’s whispering things in her ear from the giggle that you hear as her hands coming to rest on his shoulders, her finely manicured nails drape over the back of his fitted suit jacket, just as crimson red.

You watch, transfixed, as Hoseok laces his fingers into the woman’s hair and tilts her head to the side; cold sweat dripping down your back as his own head dips to press his lips to her neck. The gesture is chillingly familiar, and you know all too well what he’s getting ready to do - what’s about to happen - yet you sit frozen stiff in fright, clutching your drink in both hands.

To the casual observer, it would simply look as if things between Hoseok and Eve were getting hot and heavy, but with the knowledge that experience has afforded you, you’re able to recognise the exact second that Hoseok succumbs to bloodlust and sinks his fangs into her skin. Her grip on his shoulders suddenly tightens and her legs jerk upward to hit the underside of the table - a thud that’s smothered by the music yet you feel it regardless - and though you’re terrified you can’t seem to look away.

It must take only seconds before she goes limp in his arms; whether passed out or dead, you can’t say for sure. The gentility with which Hoseok handles her once he’s done seems bizarre after such brutality, yet he seems to take great care in laying Eve down across the seat cushions, pausing thereafter to take a swig from the champagne that’d previously belonged to her. He turns back to you with a pearly white smile, wiping the corner of his mouth with his thumb, and you try your very best to push away the nausea that’s turning your guts inside-out as you hide the panicked expression on your face with a smile.

“Think she’s out for the night,” he chortles, tilting his head in her direction. Somehow you manage to laugh and play along with his joke despite the way your hands are trembling beneath the table, and god, you can’t explain the relief that floods through you when you glance over and realise that Eve’s still breathing, her heavy chest moving up and down - albeit slowly. “What about you, beautiful?” He scoots closer to you, one eyebrow raised as he reaches out to run his finger down the slope of your nose before gently tapping its tip. “You gonna flake out on me too?”

“No,” you whisper, and Hoseok’s smile grows wider as he leans closer to you, one arm slung across the back of the booth. He starts to play with your hair as his eyes dart this way and that, drinking you in, and now you’re face to face with the open jaws of a shark you can feel yourself beginning to panic, breath quickening.

“What’s this?” Hoseok’s winning smile falters, his eyebrows creasing into a frown as he spots the barely hidden bruises on your skin. Your stomach lurches with dread. Terrified, you try to cover them up but it’s too late - he pushes your hand away and grabs onto your shoulder, grip like iron.

“It’s nothing,” you stammer, looking away to avoid Hoseok’s penetrating eyes. You feel his fingers slip under the strap of your top, pulling it to the side, and when he sees the puncture marks that were hidden there he lets out a low, mischievous chuckle. Touching your cheek, he turns your head to face him, and the smile that was once so friendly has now twisted into a smirk that makes your stomach tighten in fear.

“You’ve met one of us before, haven’t you,” he says, a statement rather than a question. You don’t bother to try and deny it; Hoseok’s clearly not an idiot. “Not many survive the first long enough to meet a second… that either makes you very lucky or very unlucky.”

Honestly, you’re starting to think the latter may be right. This was a bad idea. You shouldn’t have come back. What were you thinking? With each second that passes Hoseok is looking at you more and more like a meal; head tilted to the side, tongue caught between his teeth as his gaze travels up and down the length of your throat.

“I just wanted to see him again,” you blurt out as the vampire leans in, his arms settling around your waist to keep you fixed firmly in place.

He pauses, momentarily confused.

“Jimin. I wanted to see Jimin.”

“Jimin?” A smile flits across his face as his eyes evaluate the handiwork of the other. “I should’ve guessed,” Hoseok admits before pressing his lips against your cheek in a gentle kiss that makes you shudder - though out of fear or from the feel of his lips, you can’t tell. “You’re just his type.” You can feel him smiling against your ear as he speaks, his breath cold as his lips graze the lobe.

You shut your eyes, barely able to breathe for the weight of the dread in your chest. There’s no point in fighting. You know how futile any attempt to resist would be - you’ve lived it once already. You’re going to end up just like Eve; drunk dry, body broken. Abandoned for the glass collectors to find when the lights go up…

“Not like him to go breaking the rules so easily...” Hoseok nips at your earlobe and you’re horrified by the way your body betrays you, the hairs on the back of your neck rising in a mix of arousal and fear. “You must've had him out of his mind.”

He starts to plant kisses down the side of your throat and, unlike Jimin, Hoseok doesn’t bother with trying to hide his teeth. In fact, Hoseok almost seems to revel in making you gasp and squirm away from the pointed fangs he drags across your skin, laughing into the crook of your neck.

How could you have been so stupid as to want to come back here? Even if it were Jimin’s arms wrapped around you and not Hoseok’s, would it have really ended any differently than this?

A sob escapes you as you press your eyes closed even tighter, fingernails digging into the leather on which you sit.

“Let’s see how you taste,” Hoseok murmurs against your neck, leaning in so far that you’re forced to tilt your head back and further expose your fragile skin. You take a deep breath in as you feel his fangs dimple your skin, bracing yourself for the agony you know awaits, but before it can come - before he has the chance to taste a single drop - you’re suddenly wrenched away, the force of it so strong that it feels as though your arm is very nearly pulled from its socket. You yelp in both pain and surprise as you hit a solid chest, automatically grabbing onto whoever has dragged you to safety.

When your eyes snap open the first thing you see is Hoseok; sat bolt upright looking as shocked as you’re sure you do, his fangs still poking out from behind his lips. He’s staring, wide-eyed, at the person whose crisp shirt you’re clutching onto; the person who’s squeezing your wrist so tight that it hurts.

You don’t even need to look to know who it is that’s saved you. You can feel him; Jimin’s presence alone has your blood thronging in your veins, calling out for him.

It feels like a lifetime before he finally speaks, his lips pulling back to expose his fangs as he snarls, holding you close.

“Mine.”

#bts #bts vampire!au #jimin x reader #jimin/reader #jimin smut #vampire!jimin #vampire!jhope #vampire!hoseok #vampire!bts #bts smut #bts smut fanfiction #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts angst #jimin angst #jimin fluff #sweeter than sweet

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Family Studies

CONFUCIAN DREAM

Director: Mijie Li

Filmmaker Mijie Li's first feature (she co-produced Steven Bognar and Julia Reichert's American Factory), Confucian Dream is an observational documentary about a Chinese woman's embrace of the ancient philosophy of Confucianism and how it affects her family.

Chaoyan, a young wife and mother, believes the ancient teachings of Confucianism will restore balance, respect and morality to her home. She involves her four-year-old son in the rigorous routine of chanting daily mantras. Little Chen may not yet understand the recitations' meanings, but mom is confident she's planting a seed for the future.

Chaoyan's husband finds the daily practice excessive, and indeed many Chinese people today criticize it as feudalistic, conservative, and counter-revolutionary. While Confucianism's primary purpose is to instill peace and harmony, the opposite occurs between Chaoyan and her husband as their beliefs clash and their arguments escalate, bringing forth a gripping portrait of marital and parental crisis.

DVD (Mandarin with English Subtitles) / 2019 / 82 minutes

FOR THEY KNOW NOT WHAT THEY DO

Director: Daniel Karslake

FOR THEY KNOW NOT WHAT THEY DO, a new documentary that explores the intersection of religion, sexual orientation and gender identity in current-day America.

The arrival of marriage equality was seen by many as the pinnacle achievement of the march toward full equality for LGBTQ people. But for many on the Right, it was the last straw, and their public backlash has been swift, severe and successful. In collaboration with religious conservatives, politicians are invoking both the Bible and the U.S. Constitution in their campaigns for the 'religious freedom' to legally discriminate. By telling the stories of four families struggling with these issues, the film offers healing and understanding to those caught in the crosshairs of scripture, sexuality, and identity.

DVD / 2019 / 91 minutes

WHO'S NEXT?

Directed by Nancy Cooperstein Charney

Examines the effects of hate speech and bigotry on the lives of Muslim-Americans.

WHO'S NEXT? examines how the lives of Muslim-Americans have been affected in the aftermath of the September 11th terrorist attacks. It focuses on six Muslim families-citizens and long-time legal residents-from diverse countries and widely different circumstances. In one way or another all of them have been targeted by federal agencies, hate groups, and even former friends solely on the basis of their religious beliefs.

Family separations, threats of deportation, repeated airport detentions, unexplained travel restrictions, have become part of the daily lives of thousands of Muslims who are innocent of any crimes or even suspicious behavior. If one group can be singled out because of their religious beliefs then who's next?

The film encourages us all to choose knowledge over ignorance, take action to prevent hate speech, and to welcome strangers into our lives so that the challenges of marginalized communities can be effectively addressed.

DVD / 2019 / (Grades 5 -12, College, Adult) / 88 minutes

93QUEEN

By Paula Eiselt

93QUEEN follows Rachel "Ruchie" Freier, a no-nonsense Hasidic lawyer and mother of six who is determined to shake up the boys club in her Hasidic community by creating Ezras Nashim, the first all-female ambulance corps in NYC.

In the Hasidic enclave of Borough Park, Brooklyn, EMS corps have long been the province of men. Though the neighborhood is home to the largest volunteer ambulance corps in the world known as Hatzolah, that organization has steadfastly banned women from its ranks. Now Ruchie and an engaging cast of dogged Hasidic women are risking their reputations, and the futures of their children, by taking matters into their own hands to provide dignified emergency medical care to the Hasidic women and girls of Borough Park. In a society where most women don't drive-and a few minutes can mean the difference between life and death-how do female EMTs transport themselves to the scene of an emergency? And how does Ezras Nashim combat a behemoth like Hatzolah, which possesses political clout throughout New York City?

With unprecedented and exclusive access, 93QUEEN follows the formation and launch of Ezras Nashim through the organization's first year on the ground. We witness the highs and lows of creating an organization against incredible odds, as well as the women's struggles to "have it all" as wives and mothers. And in the midst of this already ground-breaking endeavor, Ruchie announces that she had decided to take her burgeoning feminism even further when she enters the race for civil court judge in Brooklyn's 5th Municipal Court District. Through it all, we see Ruchie and the other women grappling to balance their faith with their nascent feminism, even as they are confronted by the patriarchal attitudes that so dominate Hasidic society. As Ruchie observes, while making dinner at 3 a.m., "I sometimes wonder why God created me a woman. If I'd have been born a Hasidic man, I don't think I would have half the problems I have."

DVD (Color) / 2018 / 90 minutes

BACK TO THE FATHERLAND

Directors: Kat Rohrer, Gil Levanon

Back to the Fatherland is the story of young people leaving their home country to try their luck somewhere else... a universal tale in today's globalized world. The difference in this story is that these young people are moving from Israel to Germany and Austria - countries where their families were persecuted and killed less than a century ago.

This deeply human and revealing film explores the challenges and opportunities for reconciliation and understanding between the Third Generation on both sides of the Shoah.

DVD / 2018 / 77 minutes

BRIDGE MASTER'S DAUGHTER, THE

Directors: Matthew Leahy & Elisa Stone

In the remote Andean highlands of Peru, Victoriano Arisapana cares for the woven footbridge that has stretched over the gorge for hundreds of years. The secrets of this bridge, the only one left from the ancient Incan empire, have been passed down by the men of Victoriano's family for 300 years. Victoriano is the Bridge Master, the one who has inherited the sacred task of weaving the bridge and of making the sacrificial offerings to the mountain spirits each year. Like his father before him, he has begun to pass on these secrets to his children.

The children in these villages walk for miles each day to reach their school, where they are given glimpses of another world, far from the adobe huts of their families. And when they reach their final year, these students each make their own choice: whether they will remain in their close-knit but very primitive communities, or whether they will follow the possibilities that await in the city.

Among those who face these crossroads are Vidal, Yuri, and Laurita, the children of the Bridge Master. To stay is to embrace a rich culture and an honored heritage, but the price is a difficult, arduous future. To go could mean a whole world of financial, relational and personal fulfillment, but Victoriano, the last Bridge Master, would be left alone.

DVD (Spanish with English Subtitles) / 2018 / 81 minutes

CHASING PORTRAITS

Director: Elizabeth Rynecki

Moshe Rynecki (1881-1943) was a prolific Warsaw-based artist who painted scenes of the Polish-Jewish community until he was murdered at Majdanek. After the Holocaust, Moshe's wife was only able to recover a small fraction of his work, but unbeknownst to the family, many other pieces survived.

For more than a decade his great-granddaughter, Elizabeth Rynecki, has searched for the missing art, with remarkable and unexpected success. Spanning three generations, Chasing Portraits is a deeply moving narrative of the richness of one man's art, the devastation of war, and one woman's unexpected path to healing.

DVD / 2018 / 78 minutes

COLOSSUS

Director: Jonathan Schienberg

"Keep, ancient lands, your storied pomp!" cries she With silent lips. "Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!" - from The New Colossus, by Emma Lazarus

Told through the eyes of 15-year-old Jamil Sunsin, Colossus is a modern-day immigrant tale of one family's desperate struggle after deportation leads to family separation, and the elusive search for the American dream.

Jamil is the only person in his family born in the U.S. His parents and sister came from Honduras and lived in America for a decade before Jamil's father was arrested for being undocumented. The entire family was forced to return to Honduras, a country wracked with violence. After a knife attack traumatizes Jamil, his family makes an excruciating choice to send him back to the U.S. alone.

Now 15, Jamil tries to survive without his family and fights against a broken immigration system. Back in Honduras, his sister Mirka, who would've been eligible for DACA had she remained in the U.S., hopes to someday reunite with Jamil. This intimate portrait is a rare look into the aftermath of deportation and family separation, amidst the current backlash against America's immigrants.

DVD (English, Spanish, With English Subtitles) / 2018 / 84 minutes

FARMSTEADERS

Directed by Shaena Mallett

Follows Nick and Celeste Nolan and their young family on a journey to resurrect Nick's grandfather's dairy farm as agriculture moves toward large-scale farming.

FARMSTEADERS is a love story, a farm story, and a story of contemporary rural America. Nick Nolan, his wife Celeste, and their young family are on a journey to resurrect his grandfather's dairy farm - fighting to keep this homeland from "drying up and blowing away," something that has happened to about 4.7 million farms in the U.S. as the pressures of corporate-driven food have left deep scars in the region.

Director Shaena Mallet points an honest and tender lens at the beauty and hardship of everyday life on a family farm, as the Nolans work to balance their fears and hopes with so much at stake.

Nick and Celeste's meditations on life, legacy, and resistance bring complexity and depth to the national conversation and characterization of the rural white American. For the Nolans, only three things remain certain: family is everything, nothing ever stays the same, and the land holds it all together.

DVD / 2018 / (Grades 7-12, College Adults) / 52 minutes

HOME TRUTH

By April Hayes and Katia Maguire

Filmed over the course of nine years, HOME TRUTH chronicles one family's pursuit of justice, shedding light on how our society responds to domestic violence and how the trauma from domestic violence tragedies can linger throughout generations.

In 1999, Colorado mother Jessica Gonzales experienced every parent's worst nightmare when her three young daughters were killed after being abducted by their father in violation of a domestic violence restraining order. Devastated, Jessica sued her local police department for failing to adequately enforce her restraining order despite her repeated calls for help that night. Determined to make sure her daughters did not die in vain, Jessica pursued her case to the US Supreme Court and an international human rights tribunal, seeking to strengthen legal rights for domestic violence victims. When her legal journey finally achieved widespread national change and she became an acclaimed activist, Jessica struggled to put her life and relationships back together.

DVD (Color) / 2018 / 72 minutes

LOVESICK

By Ann S. Kim & Priya Giri Desai

In India, where marriage is a must but AIDS carries a stigma, what are HIV-positive people to do?

After discovering India's first case of HIV in 1986, Dr. Suniti Solomon left a prestigious academic post to found India's premier HIV/AIDS clinic. Twenty-five years later, India now produces its own anti-retroviral medications, enabling Dr. Solomon's to patients live longer - and face the pressure to marry. At the age if seventy-two, and in the twilight of her bold and unconventional career, Dr. Solomon has taken on a new role: marriage matchmaker. Like other Indian matchmakers, Dr. Solomon matches by religion, education, and income; but she also matches by white blood cell counts and viral loads. For her, this isn't just about romance - it is a way to stem the spread of HIV and fight stigma.

LOVESICK interweaves Dr. Solomon's personal and professional journeys with the lives of two patients: Karthik, a reticent bachelor, and Manu who, like many women in India, was infected by her first husband. As Karthik and Manu search for love, they learn how to survive under the shadow of HIV. Shot over eight years and told with humor and compassion, LOVESICK is a surprising and hopeful story about the universal desire for love.

DVD (English, Tamil, Hindi, Color) / 2018 / 74 minutes

THAT WAY MADNESS LIES

Director: Sandra Luckow

What do you do when your brother descends into a black hole of mental instability - starting with falling for a Nigerian email scam but eventually winding up involuntary committed into the hospital made famous by 'One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest'?

Award-winning filmmaker Sandra Luckow unflinchingly turns her camera on her own family as they attempt to navigate the broken mental health system in an effort to save their brother, Duanne, whose iPhone video diary ultimately becomes an unfiltered look at the mind of a man with untreated schizophrenia as well as an indictment of how the system failed.

DVD / 2018 / 101 minutes

YOURS IN SISTERHOOD

By Irene Lusztig

YOURS IN SISTERHOOD is a performative, participatory documentary inspired by the breadth and complexity of letters that were sent in the 1970s to the editor of Ms.- America's first mainstream feminist magazine. The film documents hundreds of strangers from around the U.S. who were invited to read aloud and respond to these letters written by women, men and children from diverse backgrounds. Collectively, the letters feel like an encyclopedia of both the 70s and the women's movement- an almost literal invocation of the second-wave feminist slogan "the personal is political." The intimate, provocative, and sometimes heartbreaking conversations that emerge from these performances invite viewers to think about the past, present, and future of feminism.

DVD (Color) / 2018 / 101 minutes

QUEST

Director: Jonathan Olshefski

Filmed with verite intimacy over the course of nearly a decade, Quest is the moving portrait of the Rainey family living in North Philadelphia. Beginning at the dawn of the Obama presidency, Quest Rainey and his wife Christine'a raise a family while nurturing a community of hip hop artists in their home music studio - a safe space where all are welcome. But this creative sanctuary can't always shield them from the strife that grips their neighborhood. Epic in scope, Quest is a vivid illumination of race and class in America, and a testament to love, healing and hope.

DVD / 2017 / 105 minutes

INSIDE THE CHINESE CLOSET

By Sophia Luvara

In a nondescript lounge somewhere in Shanghai, men and women giggle, eyeing prospective partners, visibly nervous about making the first move. This isn't your average matchmaking event-it's a "fake-marriage fair," where gay men and women meet to make matrimonial deals with members of the opposite sex in order to satisfy social and familial expectations of heterosexual unions. Inside the Chinese Closet is the intricate tale of Andy and Cherry looking for love and happiness in vibrant Shanghai. They are both homosexual but their families demand a (heterosexual) marriage and a baby from them. Because being single and childless would mean an unacceptable loss of face for their rural families, particularly in the remote countryside where they live. Will Andy and Cherry deny their happiness and sexual orientation to satisfy their parents' wishes? The stories of Andy and Cherry mirror the legal and cultural progress that is happening in China against the backdrop of a nation coming to terms with new moral values.

DVD (Color) / 2016 / 70 minutes

ONLY ME GENERATION - AN INTROSPECTIVE LOOK INTO CHINA'S ONE-CHILD POLICY

The one-child policy, a part of China's family planning policy, was a population planning policy of installed by the Chinese government. It was introduced in 1979 and began to be formally phased out in 2015

"Only Me Generation" is a documentary that explores the effects of the China's "One Child Policy" from the perspective of the policy's first generation point of view.

Almost 30 years ago, the Chinese government first introduced the "one child policy" to alleviate social, economic and environmental problems. Three decades later, they are now looking at a relaxation of the policy. The result is that the babies born under the current policy are a unique population set with issues and challenges that are different from those of other Chinese generations; most notably that they grew up as "only children".

This film provides a unique look into a unprecedented government policy that changed the rules of a society, impacted far more than a generation, and can now be studied on a variety of fronts. The film raises numerous questions and serves as a wonderful launching point for discussion and debate.

What are the strengths and weaknesses of "only children" in a generation of only "only children"?

What are the pressures that these children, the results of the policy, have lived under?

How have parental expectations changes due to family limits on the number of children permitted?

What are their social experiences now that these Only Me Generation children are now adults?

What are the ramifications, if any, of relaxing the policy now after so many years?

DVD (Color) / 2016 / 58 minutes

SIBERIAN LOVE

By Olga Delane

In rural Siberia, romantic expectations are traditional and practical. The man is the head of the household. The woman takes care of the housekeeping and the children. But filmmaker Olga Delane doesn't agree. While she was born in this small Siberian village, as a teenager she migrated to Berlin with her family, and 20 years of living in Germany has changed her expectations. SIBERIAN LOVE follows Delane home to her community of birth, where she interviews family and neighbors about their lives and relationships. Amusing and moving, this elegant film paints a picture of a world completely outside of technology, a hard-farming community where life is hard and marriage is sometimes unhappy - but where there are also unexpected paths to joy and family togetherness. Through clashing ideals of modern and traditional womanhood, SIBERIAN LOVE is a fascinating study of a country little known in the US and of a rural community that raises questions about domesticity, gender expectations, domestic abuse, childcare, and romance. Excellent for anthropology, women's studies, sociology, Russian and Eastern European Studies.

DVD (Color) / 2016 / 82 minutes

THERE GOES THE NEIGHBORHOOD

By Angelique Molina

In View Park, California, an extended African-American family experience demographic changes and reflect on their shifting community.

THERE GOES THE NEIGHBORHOOD intimately follows an extended Black family of View Park, California as they experience demographic changes due to gentrification and reflect on their shifting community. View Park is the largest Black middle-class neighborhood in the country. Adele Cadres is a longtime resident and mother of three who gives us insight into the history of the neighborhood. Her eldest daughter Ayana Cadres raises her biracial children with the hopes that they foster the utmost respect and reverence for the Black community she grew up in. Adele's youngest daughter, Aida, struggles to find an affordable home in the neighborhood due to increasing property value. As the family and other residents reflect on the history and culture of their neighborhood, they debate the issues of maintaining a changing community.

DVD (Color) / 2016 / 27 minutes

FROM THIS DAY FORWARD

Directed by Sharon Shattuck

Tells the story of a love, and family, that survived the most intimate of transformations.

With her own wedding just around the corner, filmmaker Sharon Shattuck returns home to examine the mystery at the heart of her upbringing: How her transgender father Trisha and her straight-identified mother Marcia stayed together against all odds. From This Day Forward is a moving portrayal of an American family coping with the most intimate of transformations.

As the film evolves into a conversation about love and acceptance in a modern American family, it raises questions relevant to all of us. As individuals how do we adapt to sustain long-term love and relationships? Where do sexuality and gender intersect? And how do families stay together, when external forces are pulling them apart?

DVD / 2015 / (Grades 6-12, College, Adults) / 76 minutes

WHAT OUR FATHERS DID: A NAZI LEGACY

Directed by David Evans

Two elderly men possess starkly contrasting attitudes towards their high-ranking Nazi fathers. A study of brutality, self-deception, guilt and the nature of justice.

A bracingly rigorous examination of inherited guilt and pain, WHAT OUR FATHERS DID explores the relationship between two men, each of whom are the children of very high-ranking Nazi officials but possess starkly contrasting attitudes toward their fathers.

The film was written and is hosted by eminent human rights lawyer Philippe Sands, who became fascinated by its central figures, Niklas Frank and Horst von Wachter, while researching the Nuremberg trials.

The film comes to a climax when they travel to Lviv in Ukraine, where it becomes clear that Frank and von Wachter's Nazi fathers were responsible for the annihilation of Sands' own Jewish grandfather's entire family. WHAT OUR FATHERS DID is a compelling examination of brutality, self-deception, guilt and the nature of justice.

"This is both an intensely personal story for me as well as one with contemporary and universal relevance as anti-Semitism spreads across Europe and the wounds created in Ukraine during WWII can still be felt today." - Philippe Sands

DVD / 2015 / (Grades 10-12, College, Adult) / 92 minutes

STRAY DOG

Directed by Debra Granik

Oscar-nominated filmmaker Debra Granik ("Winter's Bone") returns to SW Missouri for her first documentary, looking at the life of Vietnam vet, Ron "Stray Dog" Hall, and shattering some stereotypes.

Ron "Stray Dog" Hall lives in Southern Missouri where he owns and operates the At Ease RV Park. After years of living alone with his dogs, he is adjusting to life with his wife, Alicia, who is newly arrived from Mexico. Anchored by his small dogs and big bikes, Stray Dog seeks to strike a balance between his commitment to his family, neighbors, biker brotherhood, and fellow veterans. As part of the legacy of fighting in the Vietnam War, he wrestles with the everlasting puzzle of conscience, remorse, and forgiveness.

With Stray Dog as our guide, we experience the restlessness of ex-warriors as he tries to make peace with what he can't change and weathers the incomprehension of those who have never been to war. Stray Dog navigates the pressures of everyday life including the economic survival of his grandchildren and the increasing poverty of his community. The arrival of Alicia's twin sons from Mexico throws into harsh relief the current state of opportunity that newcomers seek and that America can or cannot offer.

Stray Dog continues to tally the cost of war, bearing witness to the soldiers coming home from Iraq and Afghanistan: both the dead and the living. The questions of contemporary American life loom larger and thornier, leaving us to wonder what is next for Stray Dog and his blended, multi-ethnic family.

DVD / 2014 / (Grades 8-12, College, Adults) / 102 minutes

MOSUO SISTERS, THE

By Marlo Poras

A tale of two sisters living in the shadow of two Chinas, this documentary by award-winning filmmaker Marlo Poras (Mai's America; Run Grany Run) follows Juma and Latso, young women from one of the world's last remaining matriarchal societies. Thrust into the worldwide economic downturn after losing jobs in Beijing and left with few options, they return to their remote Himalayan village. But growing exposure to modernity has irreparably altered traditions of the Mosuo, their tiny ethnic miniority, and home is not the same. Determined to keep their family out of poverty, one sister sacrifices her educational dreams and stays home to farm, while the other leaves, trying her luck in the city. The changes test them in unexpected ways. This visually stunning film highlights today's realities of women's lives and China's vast cultural and economic divides while offering rare views of a surviving matriarchy.

DVD (Mandarin/Mosuo/Tibetan, Color) / 2013 / 80 minutes

FORGET ME NOT: LOSING MEMORY - FINDING LOVE

Directed by David Sieveking

An astonishingly candid, loving and revelatory chronicle of the changes his mother's Alzheimer's disease has on the filmmaker's family.

Leading documentary filmmaker David Sieveking (David Wants to Fly) weaves an astonishingly candid, loving and revelatory chronicle of the changes his mother's Alzheimer's has on his family.

Although dealing with his mother's disease is painful, caring for her does offer Sieveking a chance to reconnect with his family and immerses himself in the secrets and passions of his parents long and fascinating life. Some stories are heroic, while others have left a painful legacy in the couple's long marriage.

Throughout, Sieveking's delicate handling of these revelations moves the focus of the story away from his mother's irreversible mental decline to that of a loving tribute to his mother as a human being with a remarkable life story. What emerges is a poignant and rich study of family ties, the delicate nature of marriage, and the unexpected rewards that come from living life to the fullest.

DVD (German with English subtitles) / 2012 / (Grades 10-12) / 88 minutes

SKYDANCER

By Katja Esson

Renowned for their balance and skill, six generations of Mohawk men have been leaving their families behind on the reservation to travel to New York City, to work on some of the biggest construction jobs in the world. Jerry and his colleague Sky shuttle between the hard drinking Brooklyn lodging houses they call home during the week and their rural reservation, a gruelling drive six hours north, where a family weekend awaits. Their wives are only too familiar with the sacrifices that their jobs have upon family life. While the men are away working, the women often struggle to keep their children away from the illegal temptations of this economically deprived area. Through rich archive and interviews, Academy Award-nominated director Katja Esson explores the colourful and at times tragic history of the Mohawk skywalkers, bringing us a nuanced portrait of modern Native American life and a visually stunning story of double lives.

DVD (Color) / 2011 / 74 minutes

WOMEN'S KINGDOM, THE

By Xiaoli Zhou

Keepers of one of the last matriarchal societies in the world, Mosuo women in a remote area of southwest China live beyond the strictures of mainstream Chinese culture - enjoying great freedoms and carrying heavy responsibilities.

Beautifully shot and featuring intimate interviews, this short documentary offers a rare glimpse into a society virtually unheard of 10 years ago and now often misrepresented in the media. Mosuo women control their own finances and do not marry or live with partners; they practice what they call "walking marriage." A man may be invited into a woman's hut to spend a "sweet night," but must leave by daybreak. While tourism has brought wealth and 21st century conveniences to this remote area, it has also introduced difficult challenges to the Mosuo culture - from pollution in the lake, to the establishment of brothels, to mainstream ideas about women, beauty and family. This finely wrought film is a sensitive portrayal of extraordinary women struggling to hold on to their extraordinary society.

DVD (Mandarin, Color) / 2006 / 22 minutes

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What are the best science fiction novels?

1. Ender's Game (Ender's Saga, #1)) by Orson Scott Card (1985; 375 pages)

Hugo Award for Best Novel (1986), Nebula Award for Best Novel (1985)

Andrew "Ender" Wiggin thinks he is playing computer simulated war games; he is, in fact, engaged in something far more desperate. The result of genetic experimentation, Ender may be the military genius Earth desperately needs in a war against an alien enemy seeking to destroy all human life. The only way to find out is to throw Ender into ever harsher training, to chip away and find the diamond inside, or destroy him utterly. Ender Wiggin is six years old when it begins. He will grow up fast.

2. The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams (1979; 224 pages)

“The quality of any advice anybody has to offer has to be judged against the quality of life they actually lead.”

“Simple. I got very bored and depressed, so I went and plugged myself in to its external computer feed. I talked to the computer at great length and explained my view of the Universe to it," said Marvin. "And what happened?" pressed Ford. "It committed suicide," said Marvin and stalked off back to the Heart of Gold.”

Seconds before Earth is demolished to make way for a galactic freeway, Arthur Dent is plucked off the planet by his friend Ford Prefect, a researcher for the revised edition of The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy who, for the last fifteen years, has been posing as an out-of-work actor.

Together, this dynamic pair began a journey through space aided by a galaxyful of fellow travelers: Zaphod Beeblebrox, the two-headed, three-armed, ex-hippie and totally out-to-lunch president of the galaxy; Trillian (formerly Tricia McMillan), Zaphod’s girlfriend, whom Arthur tried to pick up at a cocktail party once upon a time zone; Marvin, a paranoid, brilliant, and chronically depressed robot; and Veet Voojagig, a former graduate student obsessed with the disappearance of all the ballpoint pens he’s bought over the years.

Where are these pens? Why are we born? Why do we die? For all the answers, stick your thumb to the stars!

3. Hyperion (Hyperion Cantos, #1) by Dan Simmons (1989; 481 pages)

Hugo Award for Best Novel (1990), Locus Award for Best Science Fiction Novel (1990)

“In the beginning was the Word. Then came the fucking word processor. Then came the thought processor. Then came the death of literature. And so it goes.”

On the world called Hyperion, beyond the law of the Hegemony of Man, there waits the creature called the Shrike. There are those who worship it. There are those who fear it. And there are those who have vowed to destroy it. In the Valley of the Time Tombs, where huge, brooding structures move backward through time, the Shrike waits for them all. On the eve of Armageddon, with the entire galaxy at war, seven pilgrims set forth on a final voyage to Hyperion seeking the answers to the unsolved riddles of their lives. Each carries a desperate hope—and a terrible secret. And one may hold the fate of humanity in his hands.

4. Dune by Frank Herbert (1965 ; 592 pages)

Herbert's evocative, epic tale is set on the desert planet Arrakis, the focus for a complex political and military struggle with galaxy-wide repercussions. Arrakis is the source of spice, a mind enhancing drug which makes interstellar travel possible, and therefore the most valuable substance in the galaxy. When Duke Atreides and his family take up court there, they fall into a trap set by his rival, Baron Harkonnen. The Duke is poisoned, but his wife and her son Paul escape to the vast and arid deserts of Arrakis, which have given it the name Dune. They join the Fremen, natives of the planet who have learnt to live in this harsh and complex ecosystem. But learning to survive is not enough - Paul's destiny was mapped out long ago and his mother is committed to seeing it fulfilled.

5. Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? by Philip K. Dick (1968 ; 208 pages)

“You will be required to do wrong no matter where you go. It is the basic condition of life, to be required to violate your own identity. At some time, every creature which lives must do so. It is the ultimate shadow, the defeat of creation; this is the curse at work, the curse that feeds on all life. Everywhere in the universe.”

It was January 2021, and Rick Deckard had a license to kill. Somewhere among the hordes of humans out there, lurked several rogue androids. Deckard's assignment--find them and then..."retire" them. Trouble was, the androids all looked exactly like humans, and they didn't want to be found!

6. Foundation by Isaac Asimov (1951 ; 296 pages)

“Never let your sense of morals prevent you from doing what is right.”

“Violence is the last refuge of the incompetent.”

“For twelve thousand years the Galactic Empire has ruled supreme. Now it is dying. But only Hari Seldon, creator of the revolutionary science of psychohistory, can see into the future -- to a dark age of ignorance, barbarism, and warfare that will last thirty thousand years. To preserve knowledge and save mankind, Seldon gathers the best minds in the Empire -- both scientists and scholars -- and brings them to a bleak planet at the edge of the Galaxy to serve as a beacon of hope for a future generations. He calls his sanctuary the Foundation.

But soon the fledgling Foundation finds itself at the mercy of corrupt warlords rising in the wake of the receding Empire. Mankind's last best hope is faced with an agonizing choice: submit to the barbarians and be overrun -- or fight them and be destroyed.”

7. Ready Player One (Ready Player One #1) by Ernest Cline (2011 ; 374 pages)

Prometheus Award for Best Novel (2012)

“In the year 2045, reality is an ugly place. The only time teenage Wade Watts really feels alive is when he's jacked into the virtual utopia known as the OASIS. Wade's devoted his life to studying the puzzles hidden within this world's digital confines, puzzles that are based on their creator's obsession with the pop culture of decades past and that promise massive power and fortune to whoever can unlock them. When Wade stumbles upon the first clue, he finds himself beset by players willing to kill to take this ultimate prize. The race is on, and if Wade's going to survive, he'll have to win—and confront the real world he's always been so desperate to escape.”

8. Brave New World by Aldous Huxley (1932 ; 288 pages)

“But I don't want comfort. I want God, I want poetry, I want real danger, I want freedom, I want goodness. I want sin.”

Brave New World is a dystopian novel written in 1931 by English author Aldous Huxley, and published in 1932. Largely set in a futuristic World State of genetically modified citizens and an intelligence-based social hierarchy, the novel anticipates huge scientific developments in reproductive technology, sleep-learning, psychological manipulation, and classical conditioning that are combined to make a utopian society that goes challenged only by a single outsider.

9. Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury (1953 ; 159 pages)

“Ray Bradbury’s internationally acclaimed novel Fahrenheit 451 is a masterwork of twentieth-century literature set in a bleak, dystopian future.

Guy Montag is a fireman. In his world, where television rules and literature is on the brink of extinction, firemen start fires rather than put them out. His job is to destroy the most illegal of commodities, the printed book, along with the houses in which they are hidden.

Montag never questions the destruction and ruin his actions produce, returning each day to his bland life and wife, Mildred, who spends all day with her television “family.” But then he meets an eccentric young neighbor, Clarisse, who introduces him to a past where people didn’t live in fear and to a present where one sees the world through the ideas in books instead of the mindless chatter of television.

When Mildred attempts suicide and Clarisse suddenly disappears, Montag begins to question everything he has ever known. He starts hiding books in his home, and when his pilfering is discovered, the fireman has to run for his life.”

10. The Martian by Andy Weir (2012; 387 pages)

“ABOUT THE MARTIAN

Six days ago, astronaut Mark Watney became one of the first people to walk on Mars.

Now, he’s sure he’ll be the first person to die there.

After a dust storm nearly kills him and forces his crew to evacuate while thinking him dead, Mark finds himself stranded and completely alone with no way to even signal Earth that he’s alive—and even if he could get word out, his supplies would be gone long before a rescue could arrive.

Chances are, though, he won’t have time to starve to death. The damaged machinery, unforgiving environment, or plain-old “human error” are much more likely to kill him first.

But Mark isn’t ready to give up yet. Drawing on his ingenuity, his engineering skills—and a relentless, dogged refusal to quit—he steadfastly confronts one seemingly insurmountable obstacle after the next. Will his resourcefulness be enough to overcome the impossible odds against him?”

11. Neuromancer by William Gibson (1984; 288 pages)

“The Matrix is a world within the world, a global consensus-hallucination, the representation of every byte of data in cyberspace...

Henry Dorsett Case was the sharpest data-thief in the business—until a vengeful ex-employer crippled his nervous system. Now a mysterious new employer has recruited him for a last-chance run. The target: an unthinkably powerful artificial intelligence orbiting Earth. With a dead man riding shotgun and Molly, mirror-eyed street-samurai, to watch his back, Case embarks on an adventure that ups the ante on an entire genre of fiction.”

12. Artemis by Andy Weir (2017; 320 pages)

“Jazz Bashara is a criminal.

Well, sort of. Life on Artemis, the first and only city on the moon, is tough if you're not a rich tourist or an eccentric billionaire. So smuggling in the occasional harmless bit of contraband barely counts, right? Not when you've got debts to pay and your job as a porter barely covers the rent.

Everything changes when Jazz sees the chance to commit the perfect crime, with a reward too lucrative to turn down. But pulling off the impossible is just the start of her problems, as she learns that she's stepped square into a conspiracy for control of Artemis itself—and that now, her only chance at survival lies in a gambit even riskier than the first”

13. The Time Machine by H. G. Wells (first published 1895, 128 pages)

“Nature never appeals to intelligence until habit and instinct are useless. There is no intelligence where there is no need of change.”

So begins the Time Traveller’s astonishing firsthand account of his journey 800,000 years beyond his own era—and the story that launched H.G. Wells’s successful career and earned him his reputation as the father of science fiction. With a speculative leap that still fires the imagination, Wells sends his brave explorer to face a future burdened with our greatest hopes...and our darkest fears. A pull of the Time Machine’s lever propels him to the age of a slowly dying Earth. There he discovers two bizarre races—the ethereal Eloi and the subterranean Morlocks—who not only symbolize the duality of human nature, but offer a terrifying portrait of the men of tomorrow as well. Published in 1895, this masterpiece of invention captivated readers on the threshold of a new century. Thanks to Wells’s expert storytelling and provocative insight, The Time Machinewill continue to enthrall readers for generations to come.

14. Snow Crash by Neal Stephenson (1992)

“One of Time’s 100 best English-language novels • A mind-altering romp through a future America so bizarre, so outrageous—you’ll recognize it immediately

In reality, Hiro Protagonist delivers pizza for Uncle Enzo’s CosoNostra Pizza Inc., but in the Metaverse he’s a warrior prince. Plunging headlong into the enigma of a new computer virus that’s striking down hackers everywhere, he races along the neon-lit streets on a search-and-destroy mission for the shadowy virtual villain threatening to bring about infocalypse. Snow Crash is a mind-altering romp through a future America so bizarre, so outrageous…you’ll recognize it immediately.”

15. The Forever War by Joe Haldeman (1974)

“The Earth's leaders have drawn a line in the interstellar sand--despite the fact that the fierce alien enemy they would oppose is inscrutable, unconquerable, and very far away. A reluctant conscript drafted into an elite Military unit, Private William Mandella has been propelled through space and time to fight in the distant thousand-year conflict; to perform his duties and do whatever it takes to survive the ordeal and return home. But "home" may be even more terrifying than battle, because, thanks to the time dilation caused by space travel, Mandella is aging months while the Earth he left behind is aging centuries...”

16. 2001 : A Space Odyssey by Arthur C. Clarke (first published 1968)

On the Moon, an enigma is uncovered.

So great are the implications of this discovery that for the first time men are sent out deep into our solar system.

But long before their destination is reached, things begin to go horribly, inexplicably wrong...

One of the greatest-selling science fiction novels of our time, this classic book will grip you to the very end.

17. The Three-Body Problem by Liu Cixin (first published 2007)

1967: Ye Wenjie witnesses Red Guards beat her father to death during China's Cultural Revolution. This singular event will shape not only the rest of her life but also the future of mankind. Four decades later, Beijing police ask nanotech engineer Wang Miao to infiltrate a secretive cabal of scientists after a spate of inexplicable suicides. Wang's investigation will lead him to a mysterious online game and immerse him in a virtual world ruled by the intractable and unpredicatable interaction of its three suns. This is the Three-Body Problem and it is the key to everything: the key to the scientists' deaths, the key to a conspiracy that spans light-years and the key to the extinction-level threat humanity now faces.

18. I, Robot by Isaac Asimov (1950)

The three laws of Robotics: 1) A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm. 2) A robot must obey orders given to it by human beings except where such orders would conflict with the First Law. 3) A robot must protect its own existence as long as such protection does not conflict with the First or Second Law.

But what happens when a rogue robot's idea of what is good for society contravenes the Three Laws?

19. Solaris by Stanislaw Lem (first published 1961 | 224 pages)

A classic work of science fiction by renowned Polish novelist and satirist Stanislaw Lem.

When Kris Kelvin arrives at the planet Solaris to study the ocean that covers its surface, he finds a painful, hitherto unconscious memory embodied in the living physical likeness of a long-dead lover. Others examining the planet, Kelvin learns, are plagued with their own repressed and newly corporeal memories. The Solaris ocean may be a massive brain that creates these incarnate memories, though its purpose in doing so is unknown, forcing the scientists to shift the focus of their quest and wonder if they can truly understand the universe without first understanding what lies within their hearts.

20. A Canticle for Leibowitz by Walter M Miller (first published 1959 | 334 pages)

In a nightmarish ruined world slowly awakening to the light after sleeping in darkness, the infant rediscoveries of science are secretly nourished by cloistered monks dedicated to the study and preservation of the relics and writings of the blessed Saint Isaac Leibowitz. From here the story spans centuries of ignorance, violence, and barbarism, viewing through a sharp, satirical eye the relentless progression of a human race damned by its inherent humanness to recelebrate its grand foibles and repeat its grievous mistakes. Seriously funny, stunning, and tragic, eternally fresh, imaginative, and altogether remarkable, A Canticle for Leibowitz retains its ability to enthrall and amaze. It is now, as it always has been, a masterpiece.

21. The Long Way to a Small, Angry Planet by Becky Chambers (2014 | 443 pages)

Follow a motley crew on an exciting journey through space—and one adventurous young explorer who discovers the meaning of family in the far reaches of the universe—in this light-hearted debut space opera from a rising sci-fi star.

22. Childhood's End by Arthur C. Clarke (first published 1953 | 218 pages )

Without warning, giant silver ships from deep space appear in the skies above every major city on Earth. Manned by the Overlords, in fifty years, they eliminate ignorance, disease, and poverty. Then this golden age ends--and then the age of Mankind begins....

23. The Invisible Man by H.G. Wells (first published 1897)

This masterpiece of science fiction is the fascinating story of Griffin, a scientist who creates a serum to render himself invisible, and his descent into madness that follows.

24. Red Mars (Mars Trilogy #1) by Kim Stanley Robinson (first published 1993)

John Boone, Maya Toitavna, Frank Chalmers, and Arkady Bogdanov lead a mission whose ultimate goal is the terraforming of Mars. For some, Mars will become a passion driving them to daring acts of courage and madness; for others it offers and opportunity to strip the planet of its riches. And for the genetic "alchemists, " Mars presents a chance to create a biomedical miracle, a breakthrough that could change all we know about life...and death.

25. Cryptonomicon by Neal Stephenson (first published 1999 | 1139 pages)

Cryptonomicon zooms all over the world, careening conspiratorially back and forth between two time periods--World War II and the present. Our 1940s heroes are the brilliant mathematician Lawrence Waterhouse, crypt analyst extraordinaire, and gung-ho, morphine-addicted marine Bobby Shaftoe. They're part of Detachment 2702, an Allied group trying to break Axis communication codes while simultaneously preventing the enemy from figuring out that their codes have been broken. Their job boils down to layer upon layer of deception. Dr. Alan Turing is also a member of 2702, and he explains the unit's strange workings to Waterhouse. "When we want to sink a convoy, we send out an observation plane first... Of course, to observe is not its real duty--we already know exactly where the convoy is. Its real duty is to be observed... Then, when we come round and sink them, the Germans will not find it suspicious."

26. The Man in the High Castle by Philip K. Dick (1962)

Hugo Award for Best Novel (1963)

It's America in 1962. Slavery is legal once again. The few Jews who still survive hide under assumed names. In San Francisco the I Ching is as common as the Yellow Pages. All because some 20 years earlier the United States lost a war, and is now occupied jointly by Nazi Germany and Japan.

27. Stranger in a Strange Land by Robert A. Heinlein (1961)

Hugo Award for Best Novel (1962), Prometheus Hall of Fame Award (1987)

“Jealousy is a disease, love is a healthy condition. The immature mind often mistakes one for the other, or assumes that the greater the love, the greater the jealousy - in fact, they are almost incompatible; one emotion hardly leaves room for the other.”

The Hugo Award-winning and controversial science fiction masterpiece from Robert A. Heinlein, the New York Times bestselling author of Starship Troopers. Valentine Michael Smith is a man raised by Martians. Sent to Earth, he must learn what it is to be human. But his beliefs and his powers far exceed the limits of man, and his arrival leads to a transformation that will alter Earth's inhabitants forever...

28. The Martian Chronicles by Ray D Bradbury (1950)

Bradbury's Mars is a place of hope, dreams and metaphor - of crystal pillars and fossil seas - where a fine dust settles on the great, empty cities of a silently destroyed civilization. It is here the invaders have come to despoil and commercialize, to grow and to learn - first a trickle, then a torrent, rushing from a world with no future toward a promise of tomorrow. The Earthman conquers Mars...and then is conquered by it, lulled by dangerous lies of comfort and familiarity, and enchanted by the lingering glamour of an ancient, mysterious native race.

29. Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes (1966)

“I don’t know what’s worse: to not know what you are and be happy, or to become what you’ve always wanted to be, and feel alone.”

The story of a mentally disabled man whose experimental quest for intelligence mirrors that of Algernon, an extraordinary lab mouse. In diary entries, Charlie tells how a brain operation increases his IQ and changes his life. As the experimental procedure takes effect, Charlie's intelligence expands until it surpasses that of the doctors who engineered his metamorphosis. The experiment seems to be a scientific breakthrough of paramount importance--until Algernon begins his sudden, unexpected deterioration. Will the same happen to Charlie?

30. The War of the Worlds by H.G. Wells (Published in 1897)

With H.G. Wells’ other novels, The War of the Worlds was one of the first and greatest works of science fiction ever to be written. Even long before man had learned to fly, H.G. Wells wrote this story of the Martian attack on England. These unearthly creatures arrive in huge cylinders, from which they escape as soon as the metal is cool…

31. Ringworld by Larry Niven (1970)

A new place is being built, a world of huge dimensions, encompassing millions of miles, stronger than any planet before it. There is gravity, and with high walls and its proximity to the sun, a livable new planet that is three million times the area of the Earth can be formed. We can start again!

Hugo Award for Best Novel (1971), Nebula Award for Best Novel (1970), Locus Award for Best Novel (1971)

32. The Moon is a Harsh Mistress by Robert A. Heinlein (1966)

It is a tale of revolution, of the rebellion of a former penal colony on the Moon against its masters on the Earth. It is a tale of a culture whose family structures are based on the presence of two men for every woman, leading to novel forms of marriage and family. It is the story of the disparate people, a computer technician, a vigorous young female agitator, and an elderly academic who become the movement's leaders, and of Mike, the supercomputer whose sentience is known only to the revolt's inner circle, who for reasons of his own is committed to the revolution's ultimate success.

The Diamond Age by Neal Stephenson (1995)

The Diamond Age: Or, A Young Lady's Illustrated Primer is a postcyberpunk novel by Neal Stephenson. It is to some extent a science fiction coming-of-age story, focused on a young girl named Nell, and set in a future world in which nanotechnology affects all aspects of life. The novel deals with themes of education, social class, ethnicity, and the nature of artificial intelligence.

34. A Fire Upon the Deep by Vernor Vinge (1992)

Thousands of years hence, many races inhabit a universe where a mind's potential is determined by its location in space, from superintelligent entities in the Transcend, to the limited minds of the Unthinking Depths, where only simple creatures and technology can function. Nobody knows what strange force partitioned space into these "regions of thought," but when the warring Straumli realm use an ancient Transcendent artifact as a weapon, they unwittingly unleash an awesome power that destroys thousands of worlds and enslaves all natural and artificial intelligence. Fleeing the threat, a family of scientists, including two children, are taken captive by the Tines, an alien race with a harsh medieval culture, and used as pawns in a ruthless power struggle. A rescue mission, not entirely composed of humans, must rescue the children-and a secret that may save the rest of interstellar civilization.

35. The Dispossessed by Ursula K. Le Guin (1974)

Shevek, a brilliant physicist, decides to take action. he will seek answers, question the unquestionable, and attempt to tear down the walls of hatred that have isolated his planet of anarchists from the rest of the civilized universe. To do this dangerous task will mean giving up his family and possibly his life. Shevek must make the unprecedented journey to the utopian mother planet, Anarres, to challenge the complex structures of life and living, and ignite the fires of change.

36. The Mote in God's Eye by Larry Niven and Jerry Pournelle (1974)

In 3016, the 2nd Empire of Man spans hundreds of star systems, thanks to the faster-than-light Alderson Drive. No other intelligent beings have ever been encountered, not until a lightsail probe enters a human system carrying a dead alien. The probe is traced to the Mote, an isolated star in a thick dust cloud, & an expedition is dispatched. In the Mote the humans find an ancient civilization--at least one million years old--that has always been bottled up in their cloistered solar system for lack of a star drive. The Moties are welcoming & kind, yet rather evasive about certain aspects of their society. It seems the Moties have a dark problem, one they've been unable to solve in over a million years.

37. The Stars My Destination by Alfred Bester

In this pulse-quickening novel, Alfred Bester imagines a future in which people "jaunte" a thousand miles with a single thought, where the rich barricade themselves in labyrinths and protect themselves with radioactive hit men - and where an inarticulate outcast is the most valuable and dangerous man alive. The Stars My Destination is a classic of technological prophecy and timeless narrative enchantment by an acknowledged master of science fiction.

#science fiction #scifi #books #Book list #fiction #list #lists

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foursproutwealth-blog · 6 years

Text

Money story: I was a frugal jerk

New Post has been published on http://foursprout.com/wealth/money-story-i-was-a-frugal-jerk/

Money story: I was a frugal jerk

This guest post from the Frugal Jerk is part of the “money stories” feature at Get Rich Slowly. Some stories contain general advice; others are examples of how a GRS reader achieved financial success — or failure. These stories feature folks from all stages of financial maturity. Today, the Frugal Jerk — who has asked to remain anonymous for now — shares the first half of his story about going from internet entrepreneur to busted and broke.

You might know me. I’m a blogger and entrepreneur. I’ve had tens of thousands of customers during the last decade, so it’s very possible that you’ve purchased something from me in the past.

I’ve been read by millions of readers on my own sites and I’ve appeared as a guest writer on popular websites you’ve surely heard of. I’ve also been featured in New York Times bestselling books that may sit on your shelf. At my peak, my income was $300,000 per year. By many accounts I would be considered successful. But I’ve made many dumb mistakes with money.

We’re not going to bury the lede: At a certain point, because of a perfect storm of mistakes and problems, the smartest move was to foreclose my home. This move may have even saved my life. This is that story.

What’s interesting about all of this is that I grew up fairly poor and conservative with money. If I couldn’t pay for something in cash then I didn’t buy it. I didn’t make stupid financial decisions. Those decisions were for idiots. I was no idiot! (Reality check: Everyone is an idiot sometimes.)

Buying the Hype

When I bought my home, everything was going great. In the run-up to the U.S. recession, houses wouldn’t stay on the market for long. If you remember those days, you know that you could go to a first open house and the house would often be sold before you got there. It got to the point where houses were regularly selling for more than asking price. Bidding battles were not uncommon.

This should have been a warning. But I was young and dumb and flush with cash. I had a business generating almost $1,000 in profit per day. Mostly automated. All online. What to do with all that money? Home values always go up, right? It’s always smart to “Buy! Buy! Buy!” isn’t it? We all heard it daily. (You might still hear it regularly since the economy has improved lately.) Plus, it’s the alleged American Dream. Quite literally everybody around me told me to buy, particularly those who knew my income. Parents, friends, the echo chamber in the media. I didn’t hear a single dissenting opinion. (Besides my own, which I steadfastly ignored.)

So I bought a home.

Considering my income, I thought I was making a smart choice. I settled — and I do mean settled because I didn’t even like the home — on a $300,000 four-bedroom three-bath two-car-garage home. I was a young single guy with a huge family home. I know what you’re probably thinking. But it was “only” one year’s income and I put 20% down. What could possibly go wrong?

Hahahaha.

If you’ve been a working adult over the past decade, you know the answer.

Nearly everything went wrong.

The stock market tanked. The housing market tanked. And, most relevant to my eventual foreclosure decision, my income tanked. The year I bought my home, I made about $300,000. The year after, I made less than $50,000. The year after that? Less than $20,000.

It was a massive blow to not only my finances but also my ego.

In the Beginning

My beginnings probably aren’t atypical of folks who read sites like Get Rich Slowly.

I started working and saving at around age 13. I had a checking account and kept it balanced all through high school. I graduated from a four-year university with a science degree and not a single dollar in debt. Actually, because of the business I started while in school I graduated college with over $50,000 in savings, including $10,000 in a Roth IRA. Who starts a Roth IRA in college? The Frugal Jerk, that’s who.

Even though I had all this savings, I still felt poor. What’s $50,000 when others folks are millionaires and billionaires? Some call this a scarcity mindset, and maybe it’s a result of growing up “not rich”. We always had electricity and food and went on the occasional vacation (often camping). But I was an LA Gear child with Nike Air tastes. Maybe you can relate?

Like many folks in similar situations, I was raised with a faulty money blueprint. I wasn’t taught the value of money or the thought process behind saving and spending. But I was taught that rich people were to be venerated and poor people disparaged. There was nothing worse than to be poor or in debt or to ask for help. (The ultimate sin was getting any help from the government.)

I was told things like, “No, too expensive. You’ll end up like one of those poor people.”

I was taught to buy the cheapest, even if the more expensive is in the budget, better quality, and more useful. (Now I know a simple cost-benefit analysis can go a long way to helping decide whether to buy something that’s cheap versus something more costly.) The point is that as I became an adult, even though I was debt free and had a significant savings account, I felt poor, was terrified of actually being poor, and I wanted a lot more. And I got it. For a while anyhow.

The positive side of growing up the way I did is that I was taught debt was generally bad (except for a mortgage or car note, for whatever reason). I wasn’t taught why debt was bad, but the lesson mostly stuck. I never — not once in my life — carried a credit card balance. I never paid my bills late. I bought everything in cash, including a luxury automobile.

Wait, what? Frugal with a luxury automobile?

Well, I quickly fell into the classic spending trap once I started earning big. What’s $60,000 for a car when you’re earning that much in just two months? I wrote a check and paid extra to have the specific vehicle I wanted driven cross country and delivered to my door. (In case you’re wondering, that costs over a thousand bucks.) I couldn’t wait to show it off. To whom? To all the poor unsuccessful suckers around me. “Ha! I’m so smart. I bought this expensive car for cash! All these other idiots are using financing. So dumb.”

See? I was already a jerk — but no longer frugal. Obviously.

Things Fall Apart

So, the recession was in full swing although many of us were in denial. Me? Well, as I said, my income tanked and my home’s value tanked. My Roth IRA was worth about what I put into it. My mortgage and home-related expenses were eating close to $25,000 per year, so I was spending more than I was making. (My income fell to below $20,000, remember?) Things were not going well for me.

I decided to try to sell my home.

I listed it below my purchase price. It wouldn’t sell. I set an arbitrary limit to the hit I was willing to take on the home; I was hoping I wouldn’t lose more than $30,000 (or ten percent). In retrospect, I should have done whatever it took to sell. But that’s the thing about hindsight: It’s too easy to look back and judge. I didn’t think things would keep getting worse and I was using emotion instead of logic to make my decisions.

Did I say Frugal Jerk? Frugal Idiot is more like it, right?

But we’re still not to the point of foreclosure. I hustled hard, got some of my income back, and was once again earning nearly $10,000 per month. Not anywhere near what I made before, but a great income nonetheless. I could replenish some of my savings and maybe not worry so much about expenses anymore.

Unfortunately, we still hadn’t seen the worst of the recession. At this point houses like mine were still sometimes — rarely — selling for over $200,000. It wasn’t the $300,000 I bought mine for but it also wasn’t the $120,000 or less they’d eventually sell for. I was uneasy. I didn’t want to take a $100,000 hit on my home (which would take out the majority of my savings), and I didn’t feel like I had many options besides sticking it out and hoping for the best.

Then my income tanked again. Hope wouldn’t — couldn’t — save it. Because, in case you’re unaware, hope is a terrible strategy in business and in life. (Particularly in finance.)

Darkness Visible

Maybe I’ve left out something important: During this time I was also dealing with suicidal depression and debilitating anxiety. Not the result of financial troubles, but certainly exacerbated by them.

Getting out of bed or going grocery shopping was unbearable (and, frankly, a rare occurrence). I often went weeks without speaking to another human being. If I had to, I’d do my grocery shopping at 3 a.m. so I could avoid other people. If you’ve read Darkness Visible by William Styron or even Allie Brosh’s more accessible book Hyperbole and a Half, then you might have some understanding of what this kind of depression feels like. It’s something I’ve dealt with since a young age. And by “dealt with” I mean I shut myself off from the world and kept it all in.

It’s no wonder my chosen career path was to sit in front of a computer and not speak to people on a day-to-day basis. Some might say that career path was more curse than blessing. While it’s provided an interesting life, it hasn’t been without consequences.

Living with the proverbial dark cloud of depression is difficult enough. Doing it while also dealing with income uncertainty and a crashing economy? Yikes! Clearly I’m still here, but it was almost too much to handle. Thankfully, humans are resilient creatures. Even jerks like me.

My foreclosure process was long and grueling. From the time I missed my first payment until the day the house was actually foreclosed upon took three years. But, believe it or not, the experience was one of the most positive things to happen to me as an adult. It forced me to re-evaluate my relationship with money and with life itself. I also learned how to start over with nothing, from the bottom of the heap with a broken credit score.

For more on that, stay tuned for part two of my story next week. And if you have more questions than answers leave them in the comments. I won’t answer them here because I’m a jerk — but I’ll cover them in the future.

Reminder: This is a story from one of your fellow readers. Please be nice. After twenty years of blogging, I have a thick skin, but it can be scary to put your story out in public for the first time. Remember that this guest author isn’t a professional writer, and is just learning about money like you are. Unduly nasty comments on reader stories will be removed or edited.

The post Money story: I was a frugal jerk appeared first on Get Rich Slowly.

#Wealth

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foursprout-blog · 6 years

Text

Money story: I was a frugal jerk

New Post has been published on http://foursprout.com/wealth/money-story-i-was-a-frugal-jerk/

Money story: I was a frugal jerk

You might know me. I’m a blogger and entrepreneur. I’ve had tens of thousands of customers during the last decade, so it’s very possible that you’ve purchased something from me in the past.

Buying the Hype

So I bought a home.

Hahahaha.

If you’ve been a working adult over the past decade, you know the answer.

Nearly everything went wrong.

It was a massive blow to not only my finances but also my ego.

In the Beginning

My beginnings probably aren’t atypical of folks who read sites like Get Rich Slowly.

I was told things like, “No, too expensive. You’ll end up like one of those poor people.”

Wait, what? Frugal with a luxury automobile?

See? I was already a jerk — but no longer frugal. Obviously.

Things Fall Apart

I decided to try to sell my home.

Did I say Frugal Jerk? Frugal Idiot is more like it, right?

Then my income tanked again. Hope wouldn’t — couldn’t — save it. Because, in case you’re unaware, hope is a terrible strategy in business and in life. (Particularly in finance.)

Darkness Visible

The post Money story: I was a frugal jerk appeared first on Get Rich Slowly.

#Wealth

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