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kokomochi · 2 years

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𝐅𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐄 | 𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐮𝐲𝐚 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐚𝐬𝐡𝐢

"𝙙𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙝𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙞𝙩𝙪𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙗𝙤𝙧𝙣 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙤."

life as a young manager of the bouncing ball corporation has become bland. staring at the same blank walls, writing until your hand cramps- everything that normal people wanted is seen as mundane in her eyes. she needed a change of scenery- and that's where mitsuya takashi comes in.

12. a day of normalcy

"so does that mean we're going back to work?"

the young manager and her assistant were now standing in front of the bouncing ball corporation building, narrowing their eyes at it as they reluctantly entered.

"for sure my desk will be filled with paperwork." the (h/c) haired female sighed, being welcomed by the staff who were all lined up the entrance bowing down at her.

y/n waved at them kindly as she and f/n made their way to the elevators- immediately slumping on the wall once the doors had closed.

"i just wished we can get a day off for once. by no means will we stay up for those pesky papers- we're needed at school tomorrow!" the young manager sighed, humming in agreement as the two were now on the fourth floor.

both of them groaned when the sight of paperwork's and a sealed window greeted the two.

y/n pinched the bridge of her nose, taking her phone from her pocket and dialing the company's repairman.

"why must he leave everything to me?"

"so mitsuya, anything new happened to you?" a random dude slung an arm around the lilac-haired male's shoulder, earning a grunt from him as a reply.

"by new do you mean stuff from the home economics club?"

mitsuya's friend let out a groan, taking his arm off his shoulders and sighing in disappointment. the male giving him an amused look as his red-haired friend looked at him with unamused eyes.

"no- dude, i mean like any girl you met or some chick? you're acting pretty weird lately."

the lilac-haired male looked at him in confusion, his friend- ayato, doing a bunch of hand signs to exaggerate his point.

"you know- you're always so serious here in school and after the weekend passed you're suddenly all grinning and shit."

mitsuya let out a confused hum, then immediately nodding as he waved a hand off ayato.

"do you know just how creepy that shit sounded? and also, can't i just be happy for no reason at all?"

"nope. unless you did some crazy ass shit with your gang then no." the redhead said, making the male sigh and slump on his seat.

if you all don't know the reason why mitsuya was feeling a bit preppy than usual- it was because of y/n.

that simple fact alone made him ten percent more energized, doing his school work with a smile on his face that shocked even his own club.

now, if the young manager was the reason for his sudden burst of emotions, then why won't he tell ayato all about her?

that's because the two weren't properly a couple yet- simply put, mitsuya was still courting her. and he didn't want to embarrass himself by telling ayato that he's got y/n when they won't even last til the end of the year.

until the (h/c) haired girl gives him a proper answer- telling her to his friends at school is a no go-

"mitsuya was with a girl yesterday." a girl piped up, pen on her mouth as she walked past the two.

the redhead looked at his friend who was shocked that one of his own club members saw him yesterday- and snitched him out.

given, he didn't really say that they weren't allowed to tell the others- but he as well didn't know that this person was actually watching!

"what-"

"you didn't tell me you already have a girl man!" ayato exclaimed, grinning at his friend who gave him a tired expression- clearly not taking any shits from anyone.

"this is the reason why i didn't tell you." the lilac-haired male sighed, causing his friend to let out a sheepish chuckle.

"sorry man- just a bit hyped that you already found one! tell me all about her." the redhead scooted his chair closer to him, waiting for the second division captain to spill the tea.

mitsuya knew that he can't shake the big ball of energy off of him- not until he's told him what the male had wanted to hear.

the lilac-haired male sighed, propping his chin up on his palm as he began describing the female that took his heart.

"well... let's just say that she's someone out of my league- very far off my league."

ayato let out an 'oh' sound, clearly listening in on mitsuya's storytelling.

"she's out of your league? mitsuya takashi, the second division captain- having someone out of his league?"

lavender eyes playfully glared at the redhead before letting his mind drift off to the young manager.

"she manages her own company- well not exactly, her father owns the company and she just manages it, but she's a pretty hard-working person."

"she's the most humble person i've ever met- and despite having all that money around, she never seems to let it get to her mind."

ayato watched his friend closely, noticing the subtle smile the male had on his face as he continued thinking about y/n.

"she's got the most beautiful (e/c) eyes i've ever seen- like bro, i swear i always fall for her harder every time i look into those eyes. and she's got the softest (h/c) hair out there."

mitsuya let out a sigh- something totally not normal for the male to do, especially to those who don't know him personally.

ayato let out an amused huff, smiling at his love-struck friend as he copied his pose, propping his chin up on his open palms.

"if she's so perfect, then why don't you ask her out?"

lavender eyes landed at the redhead, the male noticing a vast amount of emotions swirling around his pupils all at once- somewhat catching him off guard.

"she's just so perfect, that's why she deserves to be treated properly. i asked her if i can court her- heaven must've been on my side that night because she fucking said yes."

"sounds like an amazing gal, what's her name?"

mitsuya gave his friend a small smile, blush coating the apples of his cheeks to the thought of the (h/c) haired girl.

"she's l/n y/n, manager of the bouncing ball corporation."

the two friends kept chatting inside of the now empty classroom, lunch started just twenty minutes ago and they used the time to talk more about the female.

unbeknownst to them, someone was actually listening in on their conversation- back against the wall as they hid away from the two boy's eyesight.

the figure clutched their chest, feeling jealousy ranging inside of them as they clicked their tongue.

"l/n y/n... sounds like a bitch."

"who sounds like a bitch now?"

the person scrambled on their place, shocked that someone was actually listening to them as they looked to their side to see mitsuya with his brows raised.

the lilac-haired male was holding onto pieces of scrap paper, wanting to throw them out peacefully but overheard this idiot's conversation.

"oh-"

"hey, aren't you mai from home economics club?"

mai raised her head and looked at him with wide eyes, still a bit speechless that she'd been caught.

"that's me-"

"and why were you talking shit about y/n just now?"

the female felt her heart drop, sweat forming on her forehead as ayato left the classroom to see what was going on.

mai clenched her fists, a bit angry that she had been caught.

"i didn't say anything that wasn't true! y/n sounds like a stuck-up rich bitch that thinks that she has everything just because she has money-!"

lavender eyes looked down at her with a blank look, clearly not enjoying the fact that this was what people think of y/n without actually getting to know her.

and although he wanted to throw hands at this person- he needed to remember the fact that it was a girl he was talking to.

"people who own big companies as she does are always so stuck up! what did you even see in her?!"

"i think you only listened to the part where i told ayato that she's a company owner- you missed the fact that i told him that she was the most kind-hearted and humble. she makes her own money by working as the manager- she isn't just your average rich 'bitch'"

eyes widened at the lilac-haired male's words, not uttering one word as he sighed in slight annoyance.

"look, i don't know why you hate her even without knowing her- but you need to stop it, okay?" he asked, turning to mai who still had her brows furrowed, not wanting to believe his words.

mitsuya and ayato both turned around, heading to the trash bins as the two ignored the fuming female behind them.

"why can't you just love me?!"

"i may not have money as she does- but i'll definitely treat her better! can't you see it mitsuya? she'll just grow tired of you, that's what bitches like her do-!"

ayato turned and glared at the female, making her shut up as mitsuya looked back at her with a dark look on his face.

"i was asking you nicely to stop talking about my girl like that because you're a female, but repeat that shit again and i'll make sure to tell you to y/n herself- she gives pretty decent hits."

the lilac-haired male sighed, composing himself before offering mai a small smile.

"you're kind from what i could tell during club meetings- but please respect me and y/n, it's none of your business who i date anyways."

ayato looked at his friend as mitsuya continued his way down the hall, hands on his pockets fiddling with the scraps of paper.

"so don't go saying shit like that about her or anyone in general."

the two watched him turn the corner and disappear, leaving the two there in silence.

the redhead prompted on following behind his friend, but a sudden sob made him turn around and saw mai with tears on her eyes.

ayato watched awkwardly as the female fall to her knees.

"why can't just mitsuya turn my way...?"

the red-haired male placed a hand on his neck, letting out a tired exhale.

"i bet you're all great and shit- but he's already got l/n by his side. so stop sulking and get it together."

mai sniffed, glaring up at him with puffy eyes as ayato raised his hands in defense.

"you told me you'd walk me to mitsuya- but what's this shit i heard about this y/n."

ayato looked down at her with a look, sighing as he placed his hands inside his pockets and leaned on the wall.

"i was about to talk to him about you a while ago, but someone walked by us and revealed that mitsuya was actually with l/n yesterday. and then mitsuya started talking about her."

the female kept silent, looking down on her lap as the redhead began walking away.

"mitsuya actually sounded serious about her, so don't try shit."

and just like that, mai was now all alone in the hallway- kind of thankful that there was no one there to see her in such an embarrassing state.

even though her crush was the one who told her off, she couldn't help but feel envy inside the pit of her stomach.

"just who are you, l/n y/n?"

#takashi mitsuya #mitsuya takashi #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers angst #mitsuya takashi x reader #takashi mitsuya x reader

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inevitably-johnlocked · 4 years

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Hey Steph, could you please rec any fics with Hurt John or Hurt Sherlock and the other looking after them? Thanks!

Hi Nonny!!

AHHHHHHH I love this trope alottles, and of course I have a LOT of fics relating to it! I’ve RECENTLY just updated some more Doctor John fics (Pt 4), so I’m going to link you to them here:

Doctor / Caretaker John

Doctor / Caretaker John Pt. 2

Doctor / Caretaker John Pt. 3

Doctor / Caretaker John Pt. 4

Sherlock is Sick/Hurt (Sherlock Whump)

Sherlock Whump Pt. 2

Otherwise, check out these new additions to my John Whump / Sherlock Takes Care of John Lists!!

————————-

SHERLOCK TAKES CARE OF JOHN Pt. 3

See also:

John Whump / Sherlock Takes Care of John

John Whump / Sherlock Takes Care of John Pt. 2

Promises Kept by grannysknitting (K+, 844 w., 1 Ch. || John POV, Hurt/Comfort, Friendship / Pre-Slash, Sherlock’s Violin, Worried Sherlock, John Whump, Post-TGG) – When they were in hospital, Sherlock made a promise to himself. Now he’s keeping it. Set after ’Polygamous Marriage’ but before ’Back in the Saddle’

Sleep Tonight by Jenn1984 (T, 1,220 w, 1 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Bed Sharing, Worried Sherlock, Sick John, Hugs/Cuddles, Touch Neediness) – Fingers begin prying open his jacket looking for a wound and John would really like to swat at them. No, he’s not hit anywhere, he’s just damn sick.- John Watson has a fever.

Human Body Pillow by Lunavere (K, 4,122 w., 1 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Five and Ones, Sleepy Johnlock, Bed Sharing) – A story about the five times John fell asleep on Sherlock, and the one time Sherlock fell asleep on him.

In Good Hands by Haelia (K+, 4,384 w., 1 Ch. || Adventure, Hurt/Comfort, John Whump) – John and Sherlock are stranded deep in the wilderness with no phones and no foreseeable escape. With John wounded, Sherlock fears they will die here: in the cold, in the damp, in the woods.

A Building of Bridges by Unique (K, 12,325 w., 3 Ch. || Drama, Alternate First Meeting, John’s PTSD / Flashbacks, Mute John, Dialogue-Heavy, Caring Sherlock, Friendship) – No one would ever send Sherlock in to diffuse a stand-off; but on one unlikely day, that’s exactly what happened. “Congratulations, Lestrade,” he called out sarcastically. “You’re traumatizing a war veteran.”

Shuteye Shenanigans by Ayakae (K+, 13,263 w., 8 Ch. || Post-TRF, Friendship / Epic Bromance, John’s Nightmares, Angsty Fluff, Bed Sharing, Humour, Cuddles, Taking Care of Each Other, Domestics) – John Watson has never slept with Sherlock Holmes. Never ever ever. And never will, thank you very much. Well, there was that one time, but John didn’t count that. It was completely different, just like the second time it happened. And the third. And the fourth. Epic bromance, but it can be read as pre-slash if you wish.

The Palmyra Atoll by elwinglyre (E, 16,609 w., 3 Ch. || TSo3 Divergence / Episode Fix-It, Stockholm Syndrome, Kidnapped John Watson, John Whump, Evil Mary, Angst, Cuddling & Snuggling, Toplock, Limited 3rd John POV) – As John’s preparing for the wedding, Sherlock is preparing to have his heart broken, and Mary is prepared to do the unthinkable. Intervention required. Enter Sherlock. Set before Sign of Three with a far different outcome. John is drugged, kidnapped, and left on an island, but not just any old island.

The Kepler Problem by kinklock (E, 24,270 w., 1 Ch. || Sci-Fi AU, Alien Sherlock, Space Repairman John, Alien Biology, Horny John) – Working in uncharted space exploration was not as exciting as John had hoped, especially when it turned out to be mostly bot maintenance on uninhabited planets. However, the mystery of the repeated, unexplained malfunctions on planet BAK 2212 might turn out to be exactly the kind of adventure he’d been craving.

A Home for Us by sussexbound (M, 30,581 w., 12 Ch. || Scars, Bedsharing, Grief, Doctor John, Hurt/Comfort, Post-TRF, Implied/Referenced Torture, Sherlock POV, Pining Sherlock, Suicidal Ideation, Heavy Emotions, Clingy Sherlock, Hallucinations, Disassociation, Emotional Turmoil) – He has been on the road for two years, and he is exhausted. He’s almost accepted that he will never see London (John) again—almost. But then there are nights like tonight, where he is weak, and all he can think of is the warmth of the flat they once shared, the crackle of the fire in the hearth, the teasing smile playing at the corner of John’s lips, the boxes of half-eaten Chinese takeaway balanced precariously in their laps. He aches at the memory of it, at the realisation that it is something he may never experience again.

Turn Left at the Park by Glenmore (NR (E), 37,409 w., 28 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting / ASiP Divergence, Case Fic, Depression, Suicidal Ideation, Loneliness, No Mary, Possessive Sherlock, Fluff & Angst, Nightmares/PTSD, Sherlock Saves John, Sherlock Whump-ish, Doctor John) – So what would have happened if John hadn’t walked through the park and met Stamford?What if, instead, he walked around the park and just went home?

The Burning by SrebrnaFH (M, 60,658 w., 21 Ch. || Reverse Reichenbach, Suicide, Depression, Hurt Sherlock / John, Separation, BAMF John, Good Big Brother Mycroft, Angst, Implied/Referenced Torture, Fake Character Death, Rescue Mission, Reconciliation / Reunion, Hospitalization, Marriage Proposal, Illnesses, Physical Therapy, Happily Ever After) – Something went very, very wrong. John had seemed, if not happy, then reasonably content with his life. Sherlock had never predicted something like THIS might have happened. Not in his worst nightmares. He was the lousiest friend ever, apparently. At least Mycroft found him something to occupy his mind with, so that he didn’t have to go back to 221B and stare at the walls and the chair, where John Watson would never sit again.

The Vapor Variant by 88thParallel (CanadaHolm) (M, 72,684 w., 18 Ch. || Post-THoB, John Whump, Protective Sherlock, Guilty Sherlock, Anxious/Worried Sherlock, Virgin Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, PTSD John, Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Suspense, Virus, Sickfic, Big Brother Mycroft) – They stood face to face in the middle of a clearing. The dim light of the moon barely allowed Sherlock to see the glassy terror in John’s eyes and the sweat that glistened off his forehead. His nose was bleeding again, blood dripping in a slow stream from his right nostril. They were both gasping for air, John’s eyes locked on Sherlock’s. There was no recognition there, just wild animal fear. Time stood still for an eternal few seconds, and Sherlock took a shaky breath. “John—”Spell broken, John spun and bolted back into the woods. Still heaving for air, Sherlock took off after him.

Repairing the Broken Things by BakerTumblings (M, 75,252 w., 15 Ch. || S4 Compliant, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Trauma, Hospitals, Big Brother Mycroft, Misunderstandings, Realizations, John Whump, Pneumonia, Medical Procedures, Bed Sharing, First Time, Healing, Happy Ending) – “I’m calling today to notify you that there’s been an accident.”

Not Broken, Just Bent by Schmiezi (E, 87,585 w., 43 Ch. || Pining, Love Confessions, Rape/Sexual Assault, Torture, Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Villain!Mary, Suicidal Ideations, Main Character Death, Sherlock First Person POV, Parentlock, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Grief/Mourning, Emotional Love Making, Possessiveness, Depression, PTSD, Kidnapping, Virgin Sherlock, Eventual Happy Ending) – “For a second, I allow myself to remember teaching John how to waltz. There is a special room in my mind palace for it. A big one, with a proper parquet dance floor. For a second, I go there. I remember holding him, closer than the World Dance Council asks for, excusing it with the fact that we are training for a wedding, not for a competition. For a second, I feel his hand on mine again, smell his sweat, hear the song we used. For a second, I allow myself to love him deeply. For a second, only a second, that love reflects on my face.” Fix-it for S3, starting at the end of TSoT. Evil Mary.

Given In Evidence by verityburns (M, 97,884 w., 19 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Post-TRF, Angst, Drama, Case Fic, Romance, BAMF!John, Submissive Sherlock, First Kiss, Humour) – Coming back from the dead can be a complicated business. With a new case on the horizon, rebuilding a life is one thing… rebuilding a friendship quite another. For Sherlock and John, things may never be just the same…

JOHN IS SICK / HURT (WHUMP) Pt. 3

Possessive by Fang323 (T, 850 w., 1 Ch. || John Whump, Hospitalization, Possessive / Protective Sherlock, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort) – His John did not belong. Not here. Not in this blasted hospital. It simply was not logical.

Concussions And Good Old Fashioned Awkwardness by Belldere (K+, 894 w., 1 Ch. || Humour, Hospitals, Mild John Whump, Misunderstandings, Platonic Relationship, Concussions, Not-Gay John, Possessive Sherlock) – When John lands himself in hospital… again, all he wants is to just get out of there as soon as possible, too bad his doctor has other ideas about where John may be getting his injuries. Good thing concussions make everything strangely funnier.

To the Nines by suitesamba (M, 2,724 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Magical Realism, Pining, Angst, John Whump, Time Travel, Fortunes, Time Jumps) – John skips forward in time, and Sherlock reads the signs that point to nine. John knows he’ll eventually be with Sherlock, but the waiting is nearly impossible, and his body is a lot more than transport. A foray into magical realism where all the canon events occur, and a hell of a lot more.

As You Wish by PipMer (K, 3,311 w., 1 Ch. || Bromance/Pre-Slash/Epic Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, John Whump, Hospitals) – When John woke from his coma, he wasn’t at all surprised to see the wrong Holmes brother sitting at his bedside. Disappointed, but not surprised.

Lost for Words by notactivesherlockaccount (T, 6,709 w., 1 Ch. || Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, John Whump, Temporary Mute John) – While on a case, John temporarily loses his ability to speak, and he and Sherlock have to find a new way to communicate.

Sometimes When We Touch by kedgeree (M, 7,755 w., 6 Ch. || Post-TRF, First Kiss/Time, Inappropriate Giggling, Romance, Friends to Lovers, Virgin Sherlock, John Whump, Touching) – John might be touching Sherlock a little more often than is strictly necessary. Sherlock probably hasn’t even noticed. Right…?

What Did I Do Wrong? by Starlight05 (T, 7,880 w., 5 Ch. || Hurt Comfort, Angst, John Whump, Hospitalization, Worried Sherlock, Emotional Turmoil, Nightmares, Sherlock Being Dumb) - After John almost dies on a case, Sherlock disappears. So John is left to figure out what he can do to get his best friend back. Meanwhile Sherlock, guilt-ridden and willingly alone, is doing everything he can to stay away.

The Haunting of 221B Baker Street by earlgreytea68 (M, 10,388 w., 2 Ch. || Post TRF, Halloween / Ghosts, Pining Sherlock, Ghost Sherlock, Stroppy Sherlock, Sherlock POV, First Kiss/Time, Angry Sex, Ghost Sex, Love Confessions, Open / Ambiguous Ending) – In which Sherlock Holmes is a ghost.

The Hand You’re Dealt by Lady Sam Mallory (T, 12,092 w., 1 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Light Violence, BAMF John, Doctor John, Injury, Friendship) – Sherlock, John and several others are trapped in a building when an explosion disrupts the crime scene they are working.

I Think I’ve Come A Long Long Way To Sit Before You Here Today by ArwenKenobi (T, 18,251 w., 3 Ch. || Grief/Mourning, Passage of Time, Major Character Death, Alternating POV, Sherlock Whump, Pining Sherlock, Hospitalization, Coma, Revenge Murders, Hallucinations, Love Confessions, Brutal Accident, Mystrade, Ghost John) – One year after John is killed Sherlock starts to wonder whether John has actually gone anywhere.

A Week is Just Seven Days Isn’t It? by scifigrl47 (T, 39,906 w., 4 Ch. || Humour, Friendship/Bromance, Stroppy/Bored Sherlock, Undercover/Army John, Texting, Pining-ish Sherlock, John Whump) – When John heads overseas for a week, Sherlock’s forced to fend for himself. It goes about as well as anyone could have anticipated. Which is to say, very, very poorly. Don’t worry, things’ll be fine in just seven days.

First Response by Arwen Jade Kenobi (T, 13,516 w., 8 Ch. || Hurt/Comfort, Friendship, Five and Ones, Whump / Injury) – Five times John had to perform first aid on Sherlock and one time Sherlock had to perform it on John.

Traitor’s Gate by roane (E, 17,714 w., 6 Ch. || Post-TRF, Case Fic, Mystery, Bets and Wagers, Undercover for a Case, BAMF John, Scientist Sherlock, Teasing, Established Relationship, Military Base, Sexting/Texting, Military/Uniform Kink, Frottage, Dirty Sex, Anal, Bottomlock) – John and Sherlock go undercover at a top secret government lab to find out who is selling research. John is back in uniform and Sherlock is back in a laboratory, but they have to pose as strangers. Sherlock thinks he’ll have an easy time of it, but John has his doubts. It’s up to them to find out who is responsible for putting a dangerous weapon in the wrong hands, and try to keep their hands off each other at the same time.

Only To Be With You by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (M, 40,768 w., 4 Ch. || Black Mirror / Future AU || Character Death, Future Technology, Sickness/Cancer/Illness, Heavy Angst with Happy Ending, First Person POV John, Pining John, Heart-Wrenching Angst) – I tell myself that next time I’ll come near this same place again. Wait around for the mysterious stranger in his coat to dash past me, hot on the heels of a new criminal in black. I think this all the way back to my Exit, planning where I’ll wait and what I’ll say when I see him. Scheming on how to get his name. It’s only once I reach the Exit Point door that I realize two hours and forty-five minutes have passed, and I realize that this won’t be the last time I Visit. It won’t be the last time at all.

The Thing Is by TSylvestris (E, 56,743 w., 21 Ch. || Case Fic, Dev. Rel., Anal/Oral, Blow Jobs, Meddling Mycroft, Drama, Romance, Humour, Casual Encounters, Pining Idiots, Possessive Sherlock, Orgasm Delay, Rough / Alley Sex, Public Sex, John Whump, Drugged John, Emotional Love Making, Awkward Relationship, Marriage of Convenience, Switchlock) – The problem with living with Sherlock, John thought, was that you never, never, ever knew the significance of anything. Like your flatmate’s nose buried in your hair. Whilst you’re in bed. Part 1 of Nitroglycerine

The Burning by SrebrnaFH (M, 60,658 w., 24 Ch. || Reverse Reichenbach, Suicide, Depression, Hurt Sherlock / John, Separation, BAMF John, Good Big Brother Mycroft, Angst, Implied/Referenced Torture, Fake Character Death, Rescue Mission, Reconciliation / Reunion, Hospitalization, Marriage Proposal, Illnesses, Physical Therapy, Happily Ever After) – Something went very, very wrong. John had seemed, if not happy, then reasonably content with his life. Sherlock had never predicted something like THIS might have happened. Not in his worst nightmares. He was the lousiest friend ever, apparently. At least Mycroft found him something to occupy his mind with, so that he didn’t have to go back to 221B and stare at the walls and the chair, where John Watson would never sit again.

Being John Watson-ish by elwinglyre (E, 69,902 w., 17 Ch. || Bodysnatcher AU || Author John, Cranky Sherlock, Angst, Sexual Tension, First Kiss / Time, Falling in Love, BAMF John, Past Soldier John, Feelings, Inside Someone’s Brain, Shy Sherlock, Sherlock Loves John, POV Sherlock, Switchlock, Slow Burn, Internal Dialogue, Mental Turmoil) – When consulting detective Sherlock Holmes steps on one toe too many at a crime scene, he’s consigned to a desk job in an archaic office on the seventh-and-a-half floor of the New Scotland Yard. It’s in this bleak office that Sherlock discovers a portal into the mind of renowned author John Watson. Grander than his mind palace, this new wonderland affords Sherlock new vistas of experimentation. To learn more about the mystery behind the portal, Sherlock seeks out and befriends Watson. But then it all goes wrong when others find the secret portal door—including the man whose brain he visits.

Two Two One Bravo Baker by abundantlyqueer (E, 114,574 w., 27 Ch. || Military AU || Afghanistan, War Story, Thriller) – Captain John Watson of 40 Commando, the Royal Marines, is assigned to protect and assist Sherlock Holmes as he investigates what appears to be a simple war atrocity in Afghanistan. An intense attraction ignites between the two men as they uncover a conspiracy that threatens everything they’ve ever known, but Sherlock is as much hunted as hunter, and everyone close to him is in deadly danger. Can he solve the case in time to save himself and John? Part 1 of Two Two One Bravo Baker Universe

The Adventure of the Silver Scars by tangledblue (NR [M], 142,458 w., 41 Ch. || S3 Fix-It, Post-HLV/ Post-TAB / Canon Compliant, Case Fic, No Baby, Angst, Humour, UST, Slow Burn, Angry John, Reconciliation, Not Nice Mary / Leaving Mary, Dependent Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Caretaker John, Fist Fights, It’s An Experiment, Virgin Sherlock, Dancing, Drugging, John Whump, Pet Names, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Scars) – It’s been thirteen months since Mary shot Sherlock and John finds he’s still pissed off about it. Sherlock had thought everything was settled: John and Mary, domestic bliss. But when John turns up at Baker Street with suitcases, the world’s only consulting detective might not be prepared for the consequences. A new case. Some old scores to settle. Certain danger. Concertos, waltzes, and whiskey.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #my fic recs #john whump #sherlock loves john #Anonymous #fic rec sunday

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detective-with-one-arm · 4 years

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aesthetics for the entities, part i. bold what applies to your muse, italics what applies situationally or only in certain verses. rest of the fears here. this is based on a horror podcast; potentially triggering and / or upsetting content ahead!

i. the buried. weighed blankets. drowning. the comfort of a loved one’s weight. soil and sand piling on top of you. hugging so hard it hurts a little. cramped hiding spots. letting out air underwater to sink to the bottom of the pool. walls pressing in on you. not moving from a position even though you’re cramping a little. dragging the last second before you have to inhale. lonely subways. feeling like one with the earth. a layer of dirt on you. looking for something below. cardboard boxes and tiny pillow forts. hands calloused from digging. knowing that your purpose is just below the surface. entering your final resting place before it kills you. a storm drowning you out. dust and sand speaking to you.

ii. the corruption. insects. a close imitation of the natural course of life. an illness in a community. a rag that dirties more than it cleans. an untreated wound. containment. breaching containment. unbreathable air. fungi. one with what you love. one with what loves you. a corpse unfit for a glass case. hearing a song in the sound of tiny wings and legs. honeycomb patterns. an ecosystem within a person. a curse passed on. the hubris of a scientist. an ugly death where a glorious one is owed. blood on a handkerchief. parasites. something pushing up the sewer. a mask to keep something out. trypophobia. knowing you belong. death weeks after impact. fever. food that’s gone off. pandora’s box. death behind a glass.

iii. the dark. shadows. lights that turn off by themselves. the feel of cold marble. a beaked creature in the night. the difference between seeing darkness and seeing nothing. touch of something you can’t see. hiding under a blanket. white, clouded eyes. months without going outside during sunlight. pouring dark. unscrewing lightbulbs. black matter. light sensitivity. a starless night. time before light was created. a shadow on the wall without a body to attach to. withering plants. a world without a sun. footfalls in an empty house in the night. a light that doesn’t reach as far as it should. desperate reach for a flashlight. clothes that hide your shape. staying unperceivable. winter months in the north. an empty church.

iv. the desolation. senseless pain. warmth of faith. wax where skin should be. a blazing fire. heat without a source. the third or fourth tragedy in the family. losing everything you’ve ever held dear. so much to live for, gone so soon. the smell of gasoline. touch that scars. coffee cup that never goes cold. scorch marks on wood. inescapably warm air. a child born in fire. death of a loved one. a candle without a flame. an altar in the middle of the woods. animals with burnt fur. plastic explosives. burning hot metal. sweating in an interrogation room. never touching a loved one. disfigurement. a kiss that ruins you. the scent of burning fat. a tattoo that terrifies its viewer. the agony of hellfire displayed as art. auburn hair. little clothing in cold weather. a ripple in the air. trying to cool down in vain.

v. the flesh. body horror. factories. a hunger for something more filling. never quite happy with how you look. the terror of an animal waiting for slaughter. a very good meal. the liquid of a perfect steak. fighting your worst survival instincts. a twisted bone. long nights working out. more than one heart. appearance that shapes like clay. a bag of bones. bone broth in a pot. knowing to fear pigs. the butcher’s shop. plastic surgery. something alien inside your body. a hunger in the gaze laid upon you. unwitting cannibalism. forgetting what you used to look like. being admired for your appearance and appearance only. teeth marks on skin. scars from wounds that should’ve killed you. cooking in scarcity. fenced in with one way to go.

vi. the end. the last page of a book. nightmares that don’t feel like nightmares. a skeletal hand. the grip of the grim reaper around your throat. existential pain. ivory dice. flatlining in a hospital. gambling with death. as old as the universe. soul and spirit tied to an object. a dream where you die. closing your eyes for the last time. the pleading of a dying one. knowing the fate of someone you know and being unable to prevent it. a thousand cords tugging you towards your end. skin that’s freezing to the touch. an act of desperation. someone’s life for yours. an eternity spent alive. the cost of your selfishness. watching your own burial. causing your own burial. the smell of death. numbness to fear. words from someone gone. meaninglessness of the actions or lives of single people in the universe.multiple near-death experiences you refuse to die from.

vii. the eye. googling something you shouldn’t have. eureka moments. the unforgiving lens of a camera. witness reports. hidden libraries. eyes of different colours. feeling of being watched. a death recorded in tape. a tragedy you can’t look away from. endangering yourself for knowledge. truth. analog records. a symbol of an eye. a watch tower. compulsion to document. turning on recording devices without thinking about it. saving the evidence before the person. extracting information. truth or dare, without the dare. a thirst for knowledge. books that speak to you. coordinated shelves. cataloguing systems. voyerism. police report you can’t put down. reasoning your way out. smell of old papers. books that read you back.

Tagged by: @the-quantum-repairman

Tagging: Anyone who wants to, go ahead and cause some pain >:)

#oc meme #aesthetic meme #rp meme #ask meme #quiz meme #some of these are super interesting #especially because some of these are hints to certain things #wink wink angst #{Rachel}

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planetbass · 4 years

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toons?? Toons?????? Pls tell me about ur toons

heads up,, this boutta be long as fuck!

well,,, if you insist. first of all yes it is a kin thing and no i shan’t elaborate (unless you specifically want me to, then i shall).

so! i have 3. first up… mayhem mania!

mania is a toon that loves mischief and causing problems on purpose. just pure chaotic bastard. but they are very valid and have a big heart which they use to love their friends/found family so goddam much. until some shit happens later on, for a loooong time they don’t realize that like. they forgot an entire portion of their life. to their knowledge, they n the bros have existed for as long as they can remember. but actually ! there’s like. at Least a couple years of their life in toontown prior to that that they forgot about. basically they were pulled through a tv (by swing), dropped into toontown, and forgot their entire life prior to toonification and couldn’t properly retain memories, so they ended up forgetting a lot of their life without realizing it. whoopsie! they end up remembering, tho, after some series of events.

can’t forget the emotional angst, tho! their entire self worth relies on the approval/acceptance/love of others, so on their own they have no idea how to be happy. mania be like feels unwanted all the time! mania the funny talkative jokester not allowed to be sad so will stay in house for days when sad and mute! mania be like i will invite myself into situations and then feel bad about doing so but no it will not stop me from continuing to do that bc i have a desperate need to feel included so it is just a never ending cycle ! coinciding w some events previously mentioned, they get better tho :’)

but they love gags, tend to break the fourth wall a lot, gives everyone nicknames (ex. shortstop, buzzer, pinball, etc), and loves to be as irritating as possible. anvils are their favorite, and their trademark. arson’s also quite fun. think… spencer shay energy.

well, that’s enough of that. now onto heartie! this one requires a lot of lore for context, so it’s gonna be long.

heartie is an artie. artie stands for uh *goes to look* “artificial replaceable toon-adjacent intelligent entity.” basically “artificial” toons that’re made for specific tasks and filler pieces (testing (possibly life threatening) gags, musical performances, janitor, selling stuff at disney kiosks, personal butler, etc) that have roles based on a poker chip in their neck! (kind of like a computer chip). they are all numbered and referred to only by “artie” or their numbers, unless given a nickname by their owner. they all have the same general appearance, but are slightly different depending on their roles and can be customized for specific look if wanted. arties are made in factories - and that’s where my heartie comes in! heartie is ARTIE#010, the Head Artie of the main artie factory. he runs the place! his nickname is originally hartie, bc h.artie (for head artie). he’s a little bigger than regular arties (who are in general quite small) bc 1. he’s Head Artie, and 2. he’s an earlier model, which are bigger in general.

arties generally don’t have a lot of freedom. depending on who they’re ‘owned’ by, they have varying levels. heartie didn’t belong to any particular person, more that he belonged To The State. or the company itself, that is. so he had a lot of freedom - when the factory closed, he had his own house that he went home to (v unusual!). however, arties were starting to defect - as you. imagine they would eventually being what they are. this kind of Freaked Out the powerful toons, so what they did was limit them more! so arties couldn’t leave their required workspace. so heartie was stuck in the factory. eventually, when arties were still defecting en masse, they kicked heartie out. can’t trust one of ‘em to be making ‘em, can ya? since he didn’t actually do anything wrong they didn’t recycle him (which is a Whole Other Can Of Worms), but just. fired him? they didn’t really care what he did as long as he wasn’t in charge of the factory. so heartie was left without a purpose/job. eventually he became acquainted with other defected/abandoned arties and became the artie/toon repairman! and his name was changed to Heartie bc he was no longer head artie. someone also gifted him a heart patch that he put over the old company logo on his overalls.

*exhale* OKAY. so for his ACTUAL PERSONALITY LMAO. he’s a very caring and lovely guy. he knows a lot about arties and is a great handyman! he’s friendly n charismatic but also just like A Normal Guy. he also sounds like fix it felix but with less of a southern twang. after being forcibly defected he becomes more impulsive/off the rails, but not in a bad way. just in a ‘no one can tell me what not to do anymore’ type of thing.

mkay. Finally we get to dawn. if the artie thing wasnt weird enough for ya, well, now we’re gonna talk about Gods.

basically for some reason toontown has Gods. dawn is one of em, some sort of goddess of the sky. she has a light pink, rose-gold hair, long and wavy. she has freckles of stars across her face. and!! wings!! big white wings. i don’t have a drawing of her yet unfortunately. i tried to yesterday but was about to lose my mind bc it was hard lkdjfjd

i don’t really know yet what it was she Did (i’m thinking of like. similar to the role of Victory/Nike?) but i know for sure that she was Gay. her parter is iris, god of the rainbow. iris created the concepts for the toonbros and most of the toons i think, and also eventually gave color to toontown!

but basically a. whole slew of things happened and dawn ended up sacrificing herself to save/heal iris, who was basically the god equivalent of bedridden and dying. another god (pinny, who took care of the garden, where each flower represented a soul in toontown and all the alternate universes), took what was Left of dawn after healing iris and put her into a flower and planted it. dawn was reincarnated as a mortal in toontown! her name is summer and i don’t remember much of what happens with her. but eventually iris found her and reminded her of everything, and iris gave up being a god to live as a mortal with summer/dawn. they get married and live out a wonderful gay life as toons.

i made that complicated as shit!!! so if u have any specific questions…………. feel free to ask jdfljdkf tho! probably send em to @mayhem-mania!! that’s m toon blog

#toon tag #GOD this is a lot #anon #ask

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limitededitionsanderssidesblog · 6 years

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The Stacks - Chapter 4

Ships: Eventual logicality and prinxiety, slow burn

Summary: In this society there is a place where the poor and unwanted are placed and kept hidden away from everyone else, where poverty and crime are a frequent and life shines for no one. Stacked up high in the sky, this is the furthest anyone living there will ever reach. When a Depression consumes the land, and the government fails to bring an end to it, society turns even further on the residents of the Stacks, accusing them for bringing the rest of them down. What no one knows, however, is that it’ll take the work of four unlikely people to not only bring an end to the poverty, but also to this inequality.

AO3 - Here

Chapter One Previous Next

The streets were desolate on the far Northeast corner of the thirteenth district, buildings haunted by the image of their previous businesses lay hollow and abandoned, closed down years ago in the early stages of the depression, before it had become nationwide. Life in the east side of the thirteenth district was quiet and empty, and the home of an old buddy of Virgil’s.

Walking to a narrow alleyway in between an old hotel and a crumbling apartment building, Virgil walked down to an outdoor basement opening, covered by flimsy wooden doors. Pulling them open, he walked down into the dimly lit space, closing the doors behind him. The room in its entirety was quite large, but was sectioned off into multiple ‘rooms’ by curtains and stacked boxes. To the left of the room was a large tunnel opening that lead into the cities underground network system that was built about one hundred and fifty years ago. Only a few number of people could find their way through the maze of the over three hundred square mile tunnels. Virgil, along with his... friend knew how to maneuver through them.

A quick scan of the room told Virgil that he was off duty at the moment, most likely in his office. The office was actually make shift hoarding room hidden by ceiling high stacks of boxes, and just as he had thought, the man he was looking for was busy with another one of his new toys.

Knocking lightly on the cardboard wall, Virgil grabbed the attention of the man at the table, making him frantically jump up and whip a gun from its position oh his hip. When he noticed who it was a large smile grew on his face as he put the weapon away.

“Virgey! Virgey! Virge!” The man chanted in excitement, lifting the sun glasses from his face to look at him properly. Opening his arms wide, the young man, only two years older that Virgil, pulled him into a large hug. Virgil chuckled gave his back a pat before pushing him off.

“Hey, Remy.” He greeted, making the other whine.

“Really, that’s all you have to say when you haven’t come to visit in months?” Remy cried, pouting and crossing his arms.

“Sorry,” the twenty year old apologized, taking his backpack off to pull out the saw that he had found last week. “I was wondering if you had a new cord to replace the old one?”

The older man took the saw into his hands and set it down on his table under his light, lifting his sunglasses up atop his head and pulled out a magnifying glass to inspect it closer. He looked over the torn wires, taking a pair of tweezers and pliers to cut off pieces of damaged wire and, removing the rubber cover to access the clean wires. He worked on the cord for several minutes, seemingly forgetting Virgil was even there. Virgil didn’t mind though, he knew that Remy was easily taken away into his own little world when he was tinkering. That’s why he brought the saw to him in the first place, because if he couldn’t fix it, then Remy was the only one who could.

“Don’t need a new cord girl,” Remy grinned without looking up, acknowledging his presence one again. “Because… I… just… fixed it!” He cheered, holding the saw up as if it were a trophy.

“Whoa, really?” He gasped sarcastically, smirking and giving him a small nudge on the shoulder with his fist. “Knew you could do it.”

“Of course, you’re looking at the best repairman in all of Faun!” He said with a light twirl, setting the saw back down on the table, whipping his sunglasses back over his eyes dramatically. “So, sell or keep?”

“Sell, there’s no use for a saw of this caliber in clockmaking.” Virgil replied, slipping his backpack closed. He quickly discussed a price with Remy, taking out the cost of repair, before he pocketed four silver dollars, the equivalent to forty bronze dollars, which was the most he made in possible years.

Remy Darling ran the black market throughout more than a third of the city; selling stolen, illegally made, and fixed merchandise for a hefty profit. Much of the stuff he sells was fixed and made to look expensive by himself. Remy didn’t personally steal, but he did turn a blind eye to his sellers who sold him stolen items. That’s how Virgil got into business with Remy in the beginning, selling whatever he stole off of stands or from stores, and, as he grew older, from homes. Over the years, before he stopped his stealing business, Virgil learned that the market owner was not someone to get on the bad side of. His influence is the second most powerful he’s ever known, he could buy out your entire life before the end of the week. The clockmaker, and former thief, had always trodden when they first became partners, carefully wording his phrases whenever they were in the same room. Even now that they had some sort friendship Virgil was still cautious.

“So how’s your little business been?” Remy asked, pulling them out of the office and out to the common area, where a couch, radio, and small tv with a DVD player sat around the room. In all his life, Virgil had never seen so many costly electronics and luxury before in a single room. If he was to sell all of this to a different buyer, there was no question that he’d be well on his way to pay off all of his debt. Good thing he wasn’t stupid enough to double cross Remy.

“Dying quickly,” Virgil sighed, hanging his head in defeat as he fell back onto the couch, “A new law is about to pass that will be stricter over street vendors and will require a monthly check to make sure merchant’s vending license is legit. It’ll really be cracking down on my ass soon, eventually I won’t be able to sell anymore. I suggest you be careful to, It seems like the police are becoming harder on illegal businesses.”

Remy hummed in reply, ignoring his warning, and walked over to his older coffee maker as he listened, brewing the two of them a cup.

“Does this mean you’re going to go back to your old life?” He asked, leaning against the chipped-wooden counter.

“Hell no!” Virgil declared furiously before calming down, “Even if I went back to stealing, I would never work for him again.”

“Ah yes,” Remy nodded, pouring the fresh, black coffee into two mugs, handing one over to the struggling clockmaker, “How is my ex doing these days?” Remy asked leisurely, not really caring about the man in question.

“Still the same old bastard he always was,” Virgil said, sipping on the coffee, “though I try to stay as far away as I can, for as long as I can.”

“Babe, you know when he finds out you’re out of work or that you’re back at your old habits, he’s gonna call off your deal right?”

Virgil didn’t say anything for a moment, sipping slowly on his drink. He knew what would happen if he couldn’t hold up his end of the wager. He had been an idiotic and desperate teenager when he made the deal with the gang master, pleading to protect himself and his family. Now he was about to fail on his end of the bargain, proving himself wrong, and surrendering everything he had, even himself, to him. He was certain he’d be able to withstand whatever it was that waited for him, but what about the others?

“I have to get Patton and the boys out, do you think you could take them in?” Virgil pleaded, on the edge of distress.

“Sorry girl, I can’t have two children running around down here, wish I could help.” Remy raised his hands up in mock surrender. Virgil sighed, not knowing why he even asked, Remy couldn't help him even if he wanted to.

Remy’s ex, and Virgil’s former employer, was the most powerful, influential person in all of the Northern districts, if rubbed the wrong way he could destroy you and own you within a few hours. Virgil has own a debt to him since he was thirteen, and doubled it when he made a bet he was about to fail.

Virgil could try to hide the fact that he was losing his business, but as it stands, he’s the largest debtor and has eyes on him at all times. There’s no way Virgil could hide from him for long if and when his poor excuse for a business went under. All that was left for him now was to wait for the decision to become public and see whether the new law fell through, or got passed. But perhaps there was one thing he could do to help Patton if not himself.

“Hey Remy, mind doing me a favor.”

…

Patton sat on the floor of his home; peering over the pile of newspapers he usually called his bed. He looked through the issues from the past few weeks, searching the job offer sections. The options were slim pickings as per usual. Many of the jobs were in the first four districts, where it was illegal for his kind to work. The only reason he held a job in that fourth district restaurant in the first place was because he wasn’t listed as a legal employee, but with this new law coming into action, there was no way any business would hire him there.

The next list of options was from the fifth through eighth districts asking for store employees, tailors, assistant butchers, and waiters among others. There were three total openings from the ninth and tenth districts, but that was all. The rest of the city was too poor to afford an advertisement in the newspaper let alone taking on a new employee. Job offerings were so scarce for being in a city so large. The problem wasn’t directly linked to any one cause, but rather a web of closely related disturbances. Shops were being closed down, owners couldn’t afford to pay workers, and the law dictated who could work where.

Fifty years ago, around the same time the Stackers were created as an economic study, a law was put in place that said where certain classes could work and what they could work as. For stackers, they could only work in the last three districts including their own. However, currently forty-nine percent of the city’s population lived in the stacks, there weren’t enough jobs to go around, and now the law has been toughen instead of restrained.

So all in all, there was not one single place that Patton would be able to find work.Patton sighed and lay down dejectedly on the papers. The twins, Thomas and Emile, we outside the bus playing in the dirt with to toys Patton had made them out of straw and sticks. The dolls weren’t much, but they were the only toys the boys have ever had, and it made them happy, which made Patton happy. Sitting up from his makeshift bed, Patton looked out from one of the bus’s many windows, and watched the boys play. They were playing imaginary as per usual. Thomas was a knight while Emile was an alchemist, both fighting evil monsters from swarming their castle, which was in fact the bus. This was their favorite game and they played it almost every day. It made him smile to see how children were able to still have fun and enjoy themselves, even through poverty.

However, that smile quickly faded when two large figures appeared in the distance, knocking on the doors of crates and shouting for people to come out. The boys noticed too, and stopped playing to see what was going on. Patton didn’t need to tell them to come inside; they knew what this meant themselves.

“Papa! The bullies are back!” Thomas cried as he ran up the steps from the door, Emile right on his heels. The boys knew that Patton wasn’t really their father, but he had adopted them when they were just three years old, so he was pretty much the only dad they’ve ever known.

“I know, into floor, into the floor!” Patton told them, lifting up the loose floorboard and becoming them down under. This was standard procedure every time the rent collectors came over to collect monthly sums. Often times the men would become physical with the tenants they took money from, so it was best that the boys were out of reach. Reaching into his safe, Patton pulled out the appropriate amount for the rent then put the rest back.

As he was shutting the board back over the hiding spot, Emile grabbed onto his wrist and peered up at him with scared eyes. “Be careful dad.” He pleaded. Patton forced on a smile and nodded his head, closing the door and covering the spot with newspapers. He waited nervously for them to come, listening door by door as they crept closer. Eventually they made it to his home, pounding on the glass door so hard that it cracked.

“Open up in ‘ere!” A gruff voice commanded. One of the boys whimpered from beneath, but Patton shushed him. With a large gulp of air, the scared dad made his way to the door, opening it and stumbled out.

There were two people there, one was a large man with ginger hair and long side burns, the other was an equally buff woman, shortly cut, brown hair with several scars painting her face and shoulders. They were the usual lackeys sent to pick up the cost of living in their boss’s domain, and he knew them both by name.

“Time to pay up,” Danni said menacingly, her eyes hostile, enjoying it when others cowered before her. Patton nodded shakily, holding up the required cash and coins, for Danni to count. The rolled her eyes and grumbled when she saw the coins hating when she had to deal with near worthless currency. She began to count, starting with the coins, “Ten copper, twenty copper-” When the sum reached fifty she started on the cash, “Thirt’n, fourt’n, fift’n bronze. That’s it.” She stated, pocketing the money. Patton was about to sigh in relief when she then pulled out her gun, letting it dangled in her grasp. “However, I think I should charge extra fer givin’ the boss coppers, wha’d ya think Dillon?”

Dillon pretended to ponder on that thought, twisting his knife in his fingers and he did so. “I think yer right; the boss hates gettin’ paid with copper coins.”

Patton felt his heart momentarily stop, his eyes widening in fear as he backed up until his back hit the side of the bus. “I-I don’t h-h-have any more money.” Patton squeaked, it was a lie but he couldn’t afford to lose anymore or else they wouldn’t be able to eat. “That’s a load of bullshit.” Dylan spat, “Yer the one with that fancy job up in the ferth district.”

“Yer playin’ us for fools?” Danni spat, shoving the cold metal of her gun against his forehead. Tears fell rapidly as Patton sunk to the floor in fear.

“N-no!” He cried desperately, “I was fired because of that new law! I can’t find work anymore!” His breathing ran speedily as Danni’s steel cold eyes looked over him in distrust. After a few moments of deliberation, she pulled back her gun and stood upright once more, but her gaze did not lose its bite.

“Well better start swipin’ or sellin’ ‘cause Imma gonna be back ‘ere in one week fer your ass if you don’t have the money by then, understood?”

Patton nodded avidly, still holding himself on the ground, quaking in fear as they talked to him. Seeing that their business was done there, the two left the premises, kicking up dirt into the sky as they went on to the next place.

Laying there on the ground for a while more, Patton waited for his heartbeat to slow down as he caught his breath. A few minutes passed until he was collected once more, his tears dried up and he was able to function again properly. He stood from the dirt and went back inside, closing the door behind him. Walking back towards the hiding place, Patton uncovered the floorboard and lifted it back up, revealing the two boys underneath. At first the boys backed away, afraid that they had been found, but once they saw who it was that lifted the board, the jumped out and were pulled into a hug.

“Pa, you’re okay!” Thomas cried happily, burying his face in his adoptive dad’s shoulder. Emile wasn’t as vocal as him, but was just as relieved, holding onto his waist tightly. Patton hugged them back just as fiercely, wrapping his arms around their small necks. When he had taken Thomas and Emile in he had sworn to himself that he’d do them better. Patton was weighed down constantly knowing that Virgil had grown for the most of his childhood jaded and alone, he wasn’t able to enjoy the simple pleasures and games that a child should. So, even if they were stuck in poverty, Patton had made up his mind to never let these boys see his struggle or heartache, they needed to be carefree and not burdened by his troubles.

After awhile the little group’s hug finally ended and they pulled apart. Thomas had stopped crying and seemed to have already forgotten what they were worried about. Emile on the other hand still looked concerned, but no longer scared.

“Well okay,” Patton breathed in, “It’s getting late, so why don’t you two go play while I fix up some supper.”

“Okay!” Thomas cheered and headed down to the door, hopping out to play in the dirt just as he was before. Emile followed after more slowly, eyeing his dad for a little longer. Patton simply smiled and waved as he usually did until her walked outside, once he was gone he let his smile fall again. Even though he was the younger brother, Emile was always so perspective about other people’s thoughts and feelings, he wondered if the little boys knew exactly when he was faking it sometimes.

Turning to the hole in the floor, Patton pulled out what little food he kept in there, which consisted of some partly moldy bread, a bruised banana, and a few apples. Taking out the bread and banana, he decided tonight’s dinner would be a bread and banana spread. Patton had the ability to make a meal out of almost anything he could find, it was a skill he had to pick up when his mother became sick and he had to cook for them. Picking off the mold from the bread, he got started on the small meal.

He had always found making food calming, but not tonight, right now he was much too concerned with the amount of food he had left. After today, they’d have only three apples to tie them over until who knows how long, they wouldn’t last a week.

Patton stopped in the midst of making the banana spread to turn around when the sound of the boys squealing and shouting reached his ears. Looking out to see what all the commotion was, hoping they weren’t being too rough with each other, he had instead found that the two boys were surrounding Virgil, clinging onto his arms as he spun them around.

“Virgil!” Patton smiled, for real this time, running over to envelop his oldest son in a hug.

“Hey, Patton. Cooking?”

“Not really,” He mumbled, “Just putting scrapes together.”

Virgil eyed him anxiously for a moment, pulling them aside away from the boys’ hearing radius, then asked “Still no job?” as he walked them into the bus-home. Patton shook his head in remorse.

“No, no one will take me. I can’t go nowhere outside the eleventh district no more.” Despite the damper mood, Virgil grinned a special grin, one of excitement and anticipation. Patton looked at him curiously, put off by his strange reaction. “What?”

“Well dad, I just got you a ticket outta here.” He said victoriously, reaching into his pocket and pulling out two items before handing them over. One was the newest edition of the newspaper, and the other was some form of document. “I had Remy forge you this little bad boy,” He told him, pointing to the document, “You now have a legal ID that says you’re from the sixth district, even got some papers for the boys, and that job you thought was taken is still open, now you can apply no problem!”

For a good long time Patton was silent, too busy gawking at the papers in shock to say anything. But once he got the gears in his mind ticking again, he looked back to Virgil in dismay.

“Virge, this is highly illegal!” He declared, slightly uncomfortable with what has been presented to him.

“So was working in that restaurant.” The twenty year old noted sarcastically, “Come on Pat, this place offers lodging; this is your chance to take the boys and get out!”

Patton looked down at the papers for a moment and considered what he’d be getting into. The job description said that he’d be living and working in the second district, if he was discovered the punishment would be severe. On the other hand, if he was able to pull this off not only would he be able to provide for his family, but he could even let Thomas and Emile live comfortably and get to finally be kids without constant fear and worry. Yet somehow this felt like he was cheating on Virgil, who he was never able to provide properly for.

“Are you sure about this?” Patton whispered, “We won’t be able to see you as much.”

Virgil nodded his head, “I want you and my brothers to be safe. Don’t worry about me.”

“You know that’s not possible.” Patton said half jokingly. “Okay then, I’ll take the offer.

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fortunatowrites · 5 years

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University of Bones

Prompt: In the dark future, the only safe zones for people are Universities. You’ve just been accepted into a prestigious University but unfortunately, they do not have room and board. You’ll have to fight your way to school.

The World: Once it was a beautiful place with ultimate peace for all on the horizon. Then the penguins went extinct without warning. Narwhals vanished completely from human interactions, polar bears started hunting in entirely different ways, and the number of seals dropped dramatically. No one is sure of how many species went extinct before trouble was noticed, but everyone remembers it started with the penguins. That was when the world went into panic mode, trying to find out what was wrong and how to combat it. By then, it was already too late.

This world is not the former shell of what it once was; it’s a long-distant and forgotten cousin of that world. Wastelands now cover almost as much of the world as the oceans. Towns are built around bases with the soldiers and fighters now treated as the great heroes of this time. Adventuring is a viable career, despite the high mortality rate.

Armies of the rebuilt nations are what protect this world, adventurers are what help supply it. The largest armies are around the capitals where the majority of scientists go, devising new ways to combat threats or improve weapons. Those armies protect the safest places in this world: Universities.

This world has a very strange semblance of normal now, but Adrian felt averagely normal. He finally felt he was going to change that after reading his letter. Adrian was beyond elated to he find out he was accepted into one of the most prestigious universities of his time: UB, the University of Bones.

Everyone who has been there carries a mysterious air about them. Usually because no one will actually clarify why it’s called Bones. This special university is highly accredited and has so many benefits; yet, there was one problem. They didn’t offer room and board.

“They have food available to buy in the cafeteria, at least,” his dad replied as he looked over the newspaper.

“Well… yeah,” Adrian replied matter-of-factly, “but I think my bigger issue is I have to commute to UB for class.”

“Back in my day, I had to rip and tear through demons just to get the newspaper!” his mom added in.

“Yeah and when it snowed, you could only sleep for an hour before having to murder a clan of goblins,” Adrian said mockingly.

“That was if it was a slow winter, dear. Goblins love winter warfare.”

Adrian’s mother, Dandelion, used to be a military general, but she retired after turning in an untold amount of kill-trophies for science and keep. Dande used to be very fit, but now she just did the occasional training check-up and collected reserve pay.

They basically lived off that, her reputation with the town’s merchants, and the income his dad brought home. Adrian’s father, Skullcrusher, was a respected A/C repairman with the neighboring city and this town. It was currently fall, so it was a bit of the slow season for him. This was alright though, because Adrian’s parents would usually go out together to kill creatures known as the Nest and sell Nest-logs.

The Nest is a pest-like race of armored demons. They say in some parts of the world, there are Nest Kings that command them as civilized armies and make them truly formidable foes. Out here, they were scattered and often lived with the raccoons. A hive-mind lacking the mind. Their armor is pretty resilient, but not too tough to be challenging for Adrian’s parents. The main thing was that their insides were almost like wood and burned very well for very long.

Adrian stood by the door and took a deep breath; he was shaking with anticipation. His parents fought back tears and told him how proud they were. It was going to be a long journey, but they were confident he’d figure out a great route that he could manage. Adrian was very nervous because he was the only kid in this town that got in to Bones. Everyone else was either driving from far away or travelling as a group.

“I think it’s time for you to have this,” his mother said, choking back tears.

Dande handed Adrian a revolver made of bone. He looked up at her with confusion, but she was walking away sobbing. His father put a hand on his shoulder.

“It’s a LeMat Revolver, so it’s got 9 chambers. You get 9 shots getting to University, but you’ll have to buy or save bullets for your way home.”

“Is this… demon bone?” he asked.

“Oh no, something much rarer and more stable than that. The bullets are demon bone though. Very effective for hellspawns.”

Adrian nodded and left. He was going to make them proud and get the fanciest job he could. Hell, he’d even turn back the tide and help restore the world to its former glory. With his brains at work, he’d make the world better than it had ever been!

“I’ll even bring back the penguins,” he said to himself.

“Why would you ever want them back, anyway? They always smelled of shit.”

Adrian practically jumped out of his skin at the voice and looked around. He had been walking for only a couple of minutes and had just passed the town’s guard. A patchy fence surrounded the town’s border and a bit beyond that was the old wall, about 6 feet high… where it was still held together. People would occasionally come out to patch it, but the town as a whole voted to not put funds towards it. Nearby, the wall reached about halfway before being visibly broken. Sitting on top of the rubble-esque wall was a person dressed in leather gear. They looked like a motorcyclist, but Adrian didn’t see any bike nearby. They also had a large sword scabbard on their back.

“You a bounty hunter or something?” he asked.

“Maybe.”

Adrian tried to act unimpressed and kept walking towards an intact ladder to scale over. There were a couple of trees on this side of the wall and some green grass. The other side was immediately obvious to being the opposite. Trees were everywhere, but the live ones were scarce. Patches of dead grass could be seen amongst a lot of the dirt. There was a broken road nearby that would lead through a dead city; just beyond that he’d find UB.

As he stepped onto the road, he was hit with the hot smell of sulfur. Keeping a hand in his jacket over the LeMatt’s grip and the other hand holding onto his back pack’s strap; Adrian readied himself. That smell meant there was a Burrow somewhere near. He tried to recall what he knew about Burrows.

Generally near a habitat of creatures or campsites, Burrows were large dens dug in the ground by demons that are then transformed into big molten-like caves. Demons use them as homes and for hiding their young from other monsters. There’s usually two to three hunter-demons that stay in the Burrow; protecting and gathering food when opportunity strikes. A loner walking nearby could count as opportunity in the right eyes.

The walk was generally uneventful for Adrian. He stuck to the safety of the road and walked quietly. The day was pretty dark due to a thick overcast. In this new world the weather almost always included an overcast. Anytime the sun shined through unhindered was considered a mini-holiday known as a Shine-Day. Shine-Days were when monsters were at that weakest and people spent the day celebrating the outdoors or exploring usually dangerous areas.

Today was so dark he carried a lantern on his pack. Walking the shadows of buildings and the like was when it would be most difficult to see. As he neared the dead city’s entrance, he saw a corpse. It made him freeze and wait, hoping he didn’t just accidentally walk into a trap. After a minute he decided it must be safe and walked into the city. He was wrong.

There was the bang of a firecracker behind him and he spun around. He turned back, expecting the worst, and saw the worst approaching: a horde of zombies. Muttering curses and trying to spot who threw the firecracker, he pulled out a machete from the bag. His battle cry rang out through the sea of groaning that was now echoing through the city.

Adrian tried to keep at the edge of the horde and kept slicing at knees and necks. Either incapacitate or decapitate; great advice from his mom. It was around the fourth zombie that his arms were starting to tire from the swinging. It was around the sixth as he realized they were starting to surround him. Adrian was starting to sweat as he still tried to find who did this. Someone was releasing them from buildings somewhere nearby, that’s the only way they could have done this.

Suddenly, a flaming sword tore through a section of the horde and revealed a path of escape. Adrian ran through it and passed by the motorcyclist. They were clutching the large sword, now on fire, and swinging it through the horde.

“I can’t believe the son of the Lion almost died so quickly,” their weirdly robotic voice said.

Must be a helmet microphone or something, thought Adrian. “I was getting cornered by an air conditioner grate on that building. I had a plan...somewhat,” Adrian responded as he helped his rescuer slice through zombies.

They began to withdraw, knowing the horde was growing way too large. It may have started around twelve, but now it was definitely over double that. As they ran away Adrian wanted to thank the motorcyclist again.

“You saved me, thanks so much,” he said.

“How did that happen?” they answered without emotion.

“Someone threw a firecracker at me and then started to let them out. They must be herding them up.”

“Must be a gang of outlanders,” the motorcyclist said.

Once they were a safe distance away, they stopped inside an abandoned shop. Adrian looked around for any supplies, but neither of them were surprised to find the entire place was looted long ago. The only way places resupplied anymore was from reverse treasure hunters and adventurers that never made it back to where they were staying.

Adrian tried to make small talk while they looked through the store.

“What’s the son of the Lion?” he asked.

“What are you talking about?” asked the motorcyclist.

“Didn’t you call me that earlier?”

“Did I?” the motorcyclist told Adrian, who simply glared back at the faceless helmet with frustration.

It was a short while later that the two of them departed. They stuck together and made it outside the city safely. The motorcyclist stayed with Adrian, despite not telling Adrian why. He kept asking, but the motorcyclist would either ignore the question or tell him to not worry about it. As they went through the woods, they were attacked by a small group of three goblins.

Goblins are short green creatures with a nasty attitude and cowardly set of morals. Which is why as soon as the motorcyclist brandished the flaming blade, they decided to apologize and run away. After that, the two of them made it to the gates of UB safely. The motorcyclist then turned to leave and wave.

“Why did you help me get to school if you didn’t have business here?” Adrian called out.

“School’s important, kid. Sometimes a cub needs some protecting.”

Then they walked out of sight into the woods. Adrian sighed and walked up to a stone pillar by the gate. There was a screen with a keypad and button on the pillar. Tons of scratches were on it from local monsters. He pushed the button and a bell sounded.

“Name.”

“Adrian Maykose,” he responded. “Student.”

The gate creaked open and he stepped through. There was a long path of stone leading up to the doors of the university. Adrian followed them all the way up to the door and then took a deep breath before pushing it open.

Inside was an immaculate hall full of people passing him by; walking to and from classes. Adrian was awestruck as he looked around. This lobby alone was bigger than his house. There were suits of armor beset at the columns holding up the roof. A trophy case gleamed proudly in the center; trophies and awards showing UB’s excellence. On the top of the case was a big emblem that showed a penguin’s skeleton.

“Is that why it’s called the University of Bones?” he said aloud.

A girl giggled behind him, “Don’t be silly. That’s just the logo of some alumni designer that made it big. Mr. Penguin.”

Adrian turned around to see she had just stopped to say that and was already continuing on her way. He had never heard of Mr. Penguin, but he must be a famous artist if they put his logo on top of the trophy case.

Adrian fumbled with his bag and pulled out some papers. They had directions for where to go for orientation of the first day. Trying his best to follow the directions through the giant school, he eventually found a group of students that looked like they just arrived. He approached them casually.

“Your first day here, too?” he asked with a smile.

“Fuck off.”

Adrian frowned as the group walked away. He shrugged and followed them anyway. Occasionally one or two of them would look back and glare, but he just tried to avoid eye contact.

The gang of students, Adrian, and numerous other kids settled in a gym where bleachers were readied. A stage had been put together at the opposite side of the room with the bleachers facing it. Everyone worked their way to a seat and waited for orientation to start. It wasn’t a long wait before a man dressed totally in rags, covering even his face, walked along the stage.

Knights in armor with machine guns slung over their back entered the room with him, but they waited on either side of the stage. Adrian thought of it as a safety precaution and had already noticed a couple of guards like that patrolling outside. You just never know when the next monster will attack.

“Welcome, future students of the University of Bones. I’m happy to say it looks like we only lost one student this year.”

There was a bit of murmuring and looking around. One of the students, covered in blood, sighed and made the sign of a prayer.

“Jimmy will be missed, but such is the law of the land. Congratulations to those of you who made it. We’ll be handing out the tests in a moment.”

Tests!? Adrian looked around in a panic. But wasn’t he already accepted? Why would he have to do that?

The two knights had collected stacks of paper and then began to pass them to the students as they walked along the bleachers. Adrian waited anxiously as they seemed to pass over him several times. It seemed like everyone else was getting the test first. Finally, they handed him a paper and he relaxed a bit. It wasn’t a written test, it was instructions for a physical test.

The paper said this was a test of trust. Any who passed the following instructions would be accepted into the school while the others would be sent away immediately without provisions. Adrian watched as everyone else was leaping on it, reading an instruction and following it immediately.

Step One: Approach the stage and leave all weapons at the base of it and greet the headmaster.

Adrian watched as over half of the other kids and an adult walked up to the base to set their weapons down. Mostly swords and bows, but someone put down a pistol. They all gave a brief hello before walking to the center of the gym to continue reading.

Step Two: Form teams of three.

Adrian looked up again to see people pairing off. The five he had followed earlier were arguing about which two had to team up with a stranger.

Step Three: Choose one team member to stand by the stage; that member will sacrifice their hand.

Adrian’s eyes widened and he looked up to watch as the others finally decided on their teams. Then he watched as the teams realized they had to pick someone. The two that teamed up with a stranger took her paper away. He couldn’t hear what they were telling her; but due to her reaction, he knew it couldn’t have been the truth.

There were three other teams. The team of the three he followed initially were getting ready to fight each other to solve the dilemma. One of the other teams seemed to be playing rock, paper, scissors to decide, but they kept playing it over and over. The last team, of those that have formed already, had that strange adult in it. The other two were arguing and he seemed to be deep in thought. Suddenly, he clapped his hands.

“I’ll do it.”

Adrian could faintly hear him do that and then he said something lamenting his last clap that made the other two laugh. They patted him on the back and he went over to the stage.

Eventually the other teams started burning their papers and Adrian looked back to it.

Step Four: Burn this paper using the flint taped below; use the rest of this paper to crumble it into a torch and allow it to safely burn away.

Adrian didn’t understand how that was, but he looked up and saw they were burning their papers without getting their hands burnt. A couple of them started high fiving and watching the stage with a smile. The rag-stranger just simply stood in front of the mic, watching everyone. Adrian looked back to the paper. Under the instructions for a safe burning was a legal bit about injuries. But hidden within them, the paper continued.

Step Five: Congratulations to proving you won’t go off headstrong at first command by reading through the paper. Please wait on the bleachers for the next thirty minutes for the next test.

Adrian smiled and looked around. There were four other students that sat on the bleachers. There was a girl with blonde hair sporting a pixie cut; an older girl dressed almost in business attire like a CEO with jet black hair; a kid that looked too young to be here with white hair and a red jacket; and finally an average looking kid who sat down at the bottom of the bleachers wearing a blue hat.

Eventually, there were burned papers all through the gym and five sacrifices standing by the stage. The headmaster called them to the stage and then brandished a giant cleaver blade; it reminded Adrian of an arabic styled sword. There were some red jewels on the hilt that almost seemed to glow.

“This is my sacred blade and it represents the will of our University. Please present your hands for sacrifice.”

All of them hesitated except for the adult who had volunteered. The girl that had been tricked to the stage looked around with confusion and fright. The others seemed to be arguing about who had to raise their hand first or if this was really worth the education.

“Eager to please?” asked the Headmaster to the adult.

“Our educations are important and I chose to come up here. I’m ready to trust UB completely.”

There was a slight chuckle.

“My, what a brave man. You are in the right place. Return to the bleachers.”

The adult looked confused and then the headmaster eased the adult’s wrist back down to his side before pointing him to the bleachers. Then they both looked to the girl, who seemed to have no idea what she wanted to do.

“Did you not read the paper?”

“They told me I wasn’t supposed to know the rest of the test and that I should come up here cause I was the strongest.”

Adrian could feel the awkwardness that hung in the air with the silent minute that passed during the headmaster’s deliberations. He didn’t have to look at her team to know her teammates were squirming.

“Return to the bleachers.”

The adult guided her back to the bleachers. Some of the other teams were starting to notice a couple of people were still in the bleachers. They started to follow them up.

“If you do not have a paper, you cannot return to the bleachers without my expressed permission,” the headmaster called out, without turning around.

The teams stopped, the girl’s teammates looked at each other as they realized this test was becoming something more than it initially appeared to be. The boy in the blue cap stood up and held out his paper to them.

“What the hell?” one of them asked.

“Trade with me,” he responded in a child-like voice.

“Fine,” said the rougher looking one, shoving his teammate aside.

The boy in the blue cap gave the rough student his paper and walked over to the other teammate. The rough student took a seat on the bleachers and hunched forward, watching the stage.

The other three on the stage promptly held out their hands, trying to prove their devotion first. The headmaster chuckled at their sudden eagerness and then quickly held the blade up. As he got his chopping motion ready, they flinched. Only one of them held their arm out as he brought the blade down.

He clenched his jaw and held his eyes shut; ready for the sudden CHOP of the blade. He peeked out to see the blade resting flatly against his wrist and let out a huge sigh of relief.

“Oh thank god,” he muttered as the Headmaster directed him to the bleachers.

He turned to the remaining two on the stage.

“Where’d your bravery go?”

They nervously looked around and then were instructed to return to their teams. The five teams stood amongst themselves in the gym. It was now three teams of two and two teams of three. They all looked up to the headmaster as he began to make a speech about the importance of trust, loyalty, and secrets.

While he did this, Adrian noticed the boy in the blue cap was returning to his teammate. Looking further ahead, he saw the blue cap had just randomly walked up the stage and back.

“How weird,” he said to himself as he studied the stage.

His eyes shot wide with surprise and he leapt out of his seat as he realized the reason. The headmaster began to trail off as he noticed Adrian charging through the bleachers. He looked down to see what he was running towards and saw the boy in the blue cap holding something he took from the weapon pile: the pistol.

The other kids began to gasp and cry out with fear as they saw he was waving it around the room with a happy expression that somehow seemed entirely empty of emotion.

“What the fuck are you doing?” asked his teammate.

“Fuck off,” the kid responded as he shot him in the chest.

Adrian cried out with anger as he leapt off the bleachers and towards the boy in the blue cap. The boy turned around and aimed his gun at Adrian. There was the pop of gunfire and Adrian slammed into the boy, tumbling them both to the floor.

Everyone watching began to gasp and run to the pile of weapons. The headmaster had already stepped off the stage and motioned everyone to stand back, shouting for them to remain calm and stick to the walls. Adrian kicked away the boy in the blue cap and grabbed at his hat. With a sickening rip and spurts of blood, the hat came off.

The boy’s skin crumbled and fell away to reveal a demonic presence of silver and grey. Adrian looked at the hat, reverting into a silver helm in his hand, and muttered, “Shapeshifter.”

It roared at the headmaster and transformed its arms into bloody blades. The headmaster stood a few feet away, with his blade still drawn, and the two of them locked eyes. Suddenly there was the sound of a fire crackling and the shapeshifter clutched at its chest. The headmaster and shapeshifter looked down to Adrian to see him holding the bone revolver, smoke drifting out from the barrel.

The shapeshifter snarled, but then molten cracks of energy tore across its body, making it twitch and flinch as it began to fall apart like rocks. Still it ran towards Adrian. It was right on top of him when it finally became a cloud of pebbles and dust. Adrian winced as they rained down on him.

The headmaster knelt next to him and checked him over for a bullet wound, but found none. Adrian pointed to his machete that had fallen by the bleachers and smiled. He had used it to block the bullet when he jumped on the demon.

“You’re a brave student and I’m proud to have you here, Adrian,” the headmaster spoke.

“You know my name?”

“With parents like yours, how could I not?”

Most of the students were sent home, unable to pass the orientation. Adrian stood amongst the remaining 8 students that were accepted into the University of Bones.

“Future students of the University of Bones,” spoke the headmaster, addressing all of them now in his office. “I am Sir Raphael Lumingston, headmaster of this university. It is my privilege to let you all know that you passed our orientation. Some of you passed with flying colors while others simply made it past the finish line. You have proven to me that you are either loyal and trustworthy of the secrets we share here, or that you aren’t dishonest or totally without loyalty. I can say with absolute certainty that you’re all ready to learn and change our futures. We strive for the greatest education we can here, no matter what your field is. May you accept and handle the responsibilities of these coming years with grand confidence.”

He took a seat and removed the rags from his head to reveal a skull with shadowed eye sockets, each one containing a glowing orb. The other rags began to fall away to reveal a business-like suit underneath; the school’s uniform but more pristine and proper. The living skeleton smiled at them, his bones proving they had more flexibility than the standard human skeleton.

“Welcome to the University of Bones,” he said with a wave of his skeletal hand.

#creative writing #writing prompt #writing practice #free writing #short stories #short story #post apocalyptic #monsters #goblins #zombies #zombie #goblin #magic #knight #school

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siblings-a-fixin · 2 years

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"Guh!"

"Sorry, Repairman, wasn't the surprise we meant..."

"...Well, Cat Slime did a good job on the cake, anyway."

Happy squeaking.

[[Well, it's official. The Fourth Wall Repairman is 90 years old, and this blog is 9 years old!

I know that I've had hiatuses and slow activity here, but I really love these guys, and I want to keep working with them on and off. Thank you to everyone who's participated or even just watched!]]

#birthday #bloggerversary #anniversary #blog anniversary #siblings a fixin #fourth wall repairman

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mastcomm · 4 years

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With His Fourth Book, Charles Yu Finally Feels Like a Writer

IRVINE, Calif. — Charles Yu is very interested in stories, both the stories we tell ourselves and the stories that are told to us, so let’s start with a story about him.

Once upon a time, there was a boy born in Los Angeles to a Taiwanese mother and father. The boy spent his days watching “The Twilight Zone” reruns, playing Street Fighter II, reading “Choose Your Own Adventure” books and thinking about where he might fit in. When he grew up, he became a corporate lawyer.

The end.

Except, as with all good stories, there’s more to the story than that.

The boy also wrote fiction, but not until he was an adult. He worked as a lawyer by day and wrote late into the night. He published three books, and his fourth, the novel “Interior Chinatown,” is set to come out at the end of this month.

It’s the story of Willis Wu, a young man who’s struggling to figure out what his role is in life, literally. Wu resides in a version of Chinatown that’s both a real place and the backdrop to an ongoing police procedural TV show called “Black and White.” Its inhabitants live their lives as well as the parts assigned to them: Disgraced Son, Delivery Guy, Young Dragon Lady, Silent Henchman or the most coveted role of all, Kung Fu Guy. “Interior Chinatown” — the title puns on the screenplay convention for describing locations — recalls the humorous and heartfelt short stories of George Saunders, the metafictional high jinks of Mark Leyner and films like “The Truman Show.”

“I feel like I was an existentialist from the age of 5,” Yu, 44, said last month over dim sum near his home in Irvine. He’d suggested we meet at this restaurant in the Spectrum Center, a sprawling, pleasantly engineered outdoor mall that functions as Irvine’s de facto civic space. It’s the kind of place that, frankly, might serve as a setting for one of Yu’s stories, which are often about the uneasy feeling that something’s not quite right with the world. “Even as a kid,” he said, “I was always obsessed with these questions. Who am I? How did I get here? What am I doing in this place?”

Image

Charles Yu’s novel “Interior Chinatown” comes out Jan. 28.

Despite these inclinations, he never believed he would be a writer. Instead, he went to law school at Columbia. It was there, while studying for the bar, that he picked up books of fiction that blew his mind: Saunders, A.M. Homes, Donald Barthelme — writers who grappled with those same questions in bracing ways.

So Yu started writing short stories of his own. He sent them out to literary journals. “I got hundreds of rejections,” he said. “I started posting them on a wall. But one in 50 stories would get published.” The stories were examinations of anxiety and heartbreak, usually framed by a high-concept conceit, such as the travails of a sad-sack superhero named Moisture Man. An agent read one and contacted him. Together they sold his first collection, “Third Class Superhero,” which was published in 2006.

The book was well-reviewed and sold decently. Still, in Yu’s mind, he wasn’t really a writer. He was a lawyer. “Not having an M.F.A., having a day job, there was always a feeling like I came in through the back door, or at least the side door,” he said. “Even to this day, it all feels a bit D.I.Y. It’s like I don’t play an instrument, I play a shoebox guitar I made in my garage.”

This is where Yu’s story takes an improbable twist. His collection fell into the hands of the novelist Richard Powers, who championed Yu to be named one of the National Book Foundation’s Five Under 35 most promising writers in America in 2007. Yu was flabbergasted. He’d never met Powers.

The encouragement was enough to spur him to finish his first novel, “How to Live Safely in a Science Fictional Universe,” about a time-machine repairman who’s willfully stranded himself between moments in time, even as he searches for the father who disappeared from his life. That book also did well, critically and financially, so he followed up in 2012 with the short-story collection “Sorry Please Thank You,” which was not quite as successful, either critically or financially. He still owed his publisher another book but Yu recalls feeling self-doubt once again, thinking, O.K., that was fun, but maybe this is it.

Then he got a call from HBO.

Here, the story goes from slightly improbable to downright implausible. Yu had had enough interest from TV executives in his earlier books that he’d done a “water bottle tour” — meeting with studios to talk vaguely about potential projects — but he had never considered himself a TV writer. One executive he’d met, though, disagreed. David Levine, who at the time was the co-head of drama at HBO (he’s since left to join Anonymous Content), orchestrated a meeting between Yu and Jonathan Nolan and Lisa Joy, the showrunners developing “Westworld.” “He was so self-deprecating,” Levine recalled. “He told me, I have this other life, I’m never really going to be a writer, this was always a side career. Writing was still a middle-of-the-night business for him. I just said, Why don’t you do it full-time?”

Yu quit his job as a lawyer and started writing for “Westworld.” From there he went from one TV job to the next, eventually landing at “Lodge 49,” the sweet and surreal drama on AMC created by the fellow novelist Jim Gavin. “Here was this incredibly smart guy who could really be doing anything he wanted,” Gavin said. “What I could sense in his fiction is this strain of comic humanism that underlies the larger conceptual frameworks — that notion that his characters exist in an absurd universe.”

TV writing kept Yu so busy, in fact, that it became another day job. He had two children by then, his novel had stalled, and he was feeling overwhelmed. In 2017, he told his wife he’d decided to abandon the novel and quit writing fiction. She heard him out, then encouraged him to get back to work. After many delays and false starts, he finished “Interior Chinatown,” a book focused, not coincidentally, on the mythmaking machinery of Hollywood. “I was walking one day and the first line came to me: ‘Ever since you were a boy, you’ve dreamt of being Kung Fu Guy,’” he said. “As a kid, in pop culture, there was really only one truly cool Asian-American stereotype, which is, ‘You might know kung fu!’ There was Bruce Lee. There was Jackie Chan. That’s it.”

Yu started thinking about the immigrant experience of his parents, the experience of his children, his own experiences, and who gets to be the star of his or her own story, rather than a supporting character in someone else’s. “The elevator pitch for the book became, ‘You know that “Law & Order” episode we’ve all seen that’s set in Chinatown?’” Yu said. “I want to know about the life of that guy in the background — the one who’s unloading the van and who got one line.”

It’s been nearly 15 years since the National Book Foundation anointed Yu as one of the best young writers in America, yet for the first time, he’s starting to believe he’s a writer. Maybe he’s not an impostor after all. “If anything, it’s feeling confident that if I say the thing I’m trying to say in the way that I know how to say it, that will be interesting to at least some people,” Yu said. “It’s nice when you feel like you kind of know what you’re doing, a little bit.”

After dim sum, we head out to stroll the manicured laneways of the Spectrum Center. We joke that the mall, with its cheerful storefronts and town square built around a Ferris wheel, feels like the Matrix, or “The Good Place” from TV — an artfully rendered simulacrum of happiness. But maybe it’s O.K. to find your Good Place.

“You know what else is a simulacrum?” Yu said. “A dream! And this” — he looks around — “feels like a dream.”

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alinkbetweenportraits · 7 years

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[[✍️ Okay, I'm actually kinda curious.]]

Send me ✍️ + a muse, and I’ll try my hand at writing as them

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!”

(Repairman! Repairman holy shit calm down!)

“WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT HAPPENED TO THE OTHER GUY!? WHAT IS THIS PLACE!? ARE YOU A KIDNAPPER!?”

(Table just let me borrow you for--)

“STOP LOOKING AT ME IT’S JUST GOING TO BREAK MORE!”

(Okay, okay! I’m going. Look you won’t be able to see me! Just for god’s sake put the microphone down! Tech equipment is expensive!)

The writer slid down under the chairs and tried her best to get out of the inkblot’s line of sight.

Meanwhile, the repairman stared around the room, wondering where he was or what kind of sick joke this was. Didn’t his owner have better things to work on? It took a while, but he at least calmed himself enough to put the microphone back in place. He stood around silently, fumbling with his hands a moment before speaking up.

“So um.. Can I go now? I kind of have a lot of work so...”

(Look just talk a bit about yourself or something into the mic. I don’t know, give Table something to read! Then you can go back to doing whatever you were in the middle of. And uh, don’t worry. No other characters are listening. It’s just you and me.)

The cartoon stopped, reaching up for the staff and moving the mic to mouth level (or at least where it would be if the artist had drawn it in). The ink blot stared around, taking off his hat and rubbing his head in thought for a moment.

“Oh, okay I guess... Well, I’m the Fourth Wall Repairman. Though I’ve got a couple of nicknames. Inky, Mr. Sir, Hey Get Back Here And Give Me Your Wallet Punk... Anyways, so sometimes, characters sometimes slip up and bring up things or subjects or even phrases that just don’t belong in the universe. And these instances can make these really big ugly cracks in the wall where other people are watching. In some cases, they’re so massive they leave gaping holes. Those are not very fun to fix... Actually they’re a huge pain, sometimes they take over a week to fill.”

The repairman put his hat on his head, large white eyes fixated on the audience ahead. There really were a lot of faces...

“Anyways, I know the job isn’t all that glamorous, but trust me when I say you meet some really interesting characters, even a handful of big names and celebrities! So I wouldn’t say the work is that bad. And over eighty years of this work? Let me tell you, you get some real interesting stories. And every step of the way I got my tool cart on hand,” he added, gesturing to the supply case on wheels not too far away. “It’s got everything you can ask for and more. I can repair just about anything! So um... I guess that’s all I can really say. So... Can I please go now?”

#I know this is dumb #but since his thing is fourth walls I put some ooc shit in there for lols #I'd assume he wouldn't take too kindly to some stranger giving him a script all the sudden #askthefwrp

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heros-bane · 7 years

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Examine: The Fourth Wall Repairman [[as Sileas]]

Excerpt from Sileas' journalName: Fourth Wall Repair ManSpecies: UnknownRelation: Unknown"This little blob of ink repairs a magic gate called a 'fourth wall'. I have no information on such a wall, but the Repairman appears to be extremely dedicated to his one duty, although abit cowardly. There doesnt seem to be any good harvestable qualities to the Repairman.However...His ability to change his appearance is quite fascinating. If I was able to harness his liquid state, it would make preserving this vessel much, much easier...Side note: His magic light is quite irritating. If he attempts to shine it again, I will personally remove it from his being."

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jodybouchard9 · 7 years

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12 Money-Saving Secrets Appliance Stores Don’t Want You to Know

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Let’s face it: Shopping for appliances is rarely as fun as, say, a weekend in Vegas. Has anyone ever experienced any kind of high-roller exhilaration from splurging on a washing machine?

Of course not! That’s because home appliance shopping usually happens when one of your workhorses is on its last legs or, heaven forbid, completely busted. And, if you’re not careful, a savvy salesperson will spot that sweat of desperation. Suddenly, you’re leaving the store not just with a new appliance but also a sad, empty wallet.

But it doesn’t have to be that way. Whether you’re buying an appliance in a store or online, we know a few tricks of the trade to keep money in your pocket.

1. Look beyond advertised prices

Have you noticed that when you shop for appliances online or look at store circulars, all the prices are pretty much the same? That’s because big manufacturers dictate the minimum prices stores can advertise. But that doesn’t mean the actual cost is the same across the board.

“They can sell it for less, but they can’t advertise it for less,” says Kevin Brasler, executive editor of consumer watchdog Checkbook. That means if you just do something—such as click a button online or approach a sales associate in a store—you can often buy the product for less cash. Sometimes a lot less.

2. Time your purchase right

The right time to buy appliances can vary depending on whether you’re buying online or in store. But there’s one common denominator: The best time to shop is when retailers need your money more than you need that appliance. Let’s break it down:

If you’re shopping in a brick-and-mortar store, these are the best times to buy:

September, October, and January, when manufacturers roll out new appliance models and retailers are desperate to get rid of last year’s fare

The end of each month, when stores are trying to meet monthly quotas

Holiday weekends (No, retailers aren’t tricking you with bargain prices—they promote heavily and stock for greater sales during those periods. But different holidays are better for different deals.)

Off-season (For instance, force yourself to think about buying an outdoor grill in January or an electric fireplace in July.)

If you’re shopping online, these are the best times to buy:

November

Thursdays (the day retailers are twice as likely to reduce prices)

The fourth or fifth day of the month, when buyers are flush with paycheck money

3 p.m. (Yes, 3 p.m.)

3. Use a shopping cart—and then walk away

We’re talking about the online kind. If you’ve had your eye on an appliance but wish it were just a smidgen cheaper, try putting it in your cart. Then walk away (so to speak). If you leave it there for a few days, a retailer might send you a coupon to entice you to close the deal.

4. Decode the price tag

According to the folks at Lifehacker, some price tags have a secret code that can help you determine how much a store is discounting an item—and whether there’s room for a bigger cut.

They put together a handy chart that reveals what certain numbers and symbols mean at several major retailers, including Home Depot, Costco, and Target. If this looks like information overload, remember this: If a price ends in any number other than 9 or 99, you’ll know you’re getting less than full retail price.

5. Embrace your inner snoop

You can’t always get to a store during a big sale. But if you peek into the metal price stand next to an item, you might be able to preview the cards behind the one displaying the current price—cards that might reveal the date and price of the next sale.

6. Ask repair people for bargains

When a repairman arrives to fix a busted appliance, ask if he knows of warehouses selling almost-new appliances for deep discounts. This is what we call insider info! When my oven broke, my repairman pointed me to a family warehouse filled with slightly dented appliances. I got half off a returned wall oven with a tiny dent on the side that nobody will ever see.

7. Combine discounts

Think of how much you can save if you shop for appliances during a Black Friday sale, pay with a gift card you bought online for a discount, and add a 20% coupon to the mix. The dollars simply melt away.

8. Don’t be afraid to haggle

Never be afraid to ask salespeople, cashiers, and store managers if they can do a little better on the price. In fact, Consumer Reports says that nearly all people who haggle over appliances are successful at least once—and save an average $200.

Brasler advises consumers to call stores in advance and say, “I’m shopping around for this appliance and will buy from the place that gives me the lowest price. What’s the best price, including delivery and install, you can give me?”

“Independent stores, rather than chains, are really set up for this,” he adds.

9. Re-evaluate the extended warranty

Extended warranties can be a good idea. But if you’re not careful, they can also drain your bank account unnecessarily. Consumer experts say extended warranties often cost more than they’re worth—in other words, you’ll spend less on a potential repair than you will shelling out for the warranty in the first place. We won’t tell you to skip it, but you should do the math and proceed with caution.

10. Sell your old one for scrap

Even an old, broken appliance is usually worth something. You can try selling a busted unit for parts on Craigslist or eBay, or at a local scrap yard that purchases metal based on weight. You can often earn $10 to $50 per 100 pounds, depending on the type of metal and the scrap yard. That means a 150-pound dryer could net you $15 to $75 dollars. Apply that to a new $300 dryer, and you’ve suddenly got a discount. Score!

11. Consider white

If you’re not picky about colors and finishes, you can often buy white appliances for hundreds less than stainless steel, black, or the color of the moment.

12. Send in your rebate

We know it’s a pain to keep track of your receipt and send it to a manufacturer or store. But isn’t it worth five minutes of your time to get a bargain? Keep receipts in one place, and put together your rebates while you’re bingeing on Netflix.

The post 12 Money-Saving Secrets Appliance Stores Don’t Want You to Know appeared first on Real Estate News & Advice | realtor.com®.

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