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bratz-kitten · 3 years

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Nikola Stojanovic’s degree theory

— you can learn more about his theory here and here. he was the maker of this theory, i’m simply passing the knowledge i’ve researched on him in a more simplified way!!! trigger warning for mentions of death and violence for the 11º, the 15º, the 18º and the 22º degrees

according to nikola’s research, each degree is connected to the sign it rules:

aries degrees — 1º, 13º, 25º - taking action, fighting spirit, not giving oneself up to fate, struggle, war, can indicate abuse, labor, diligence, leadership, beginnings, etc

taurus degrees — 2º, 14º, 26º - money, food, the earth, stability, luxuries, voice, singing, etc

gemini degrees — 3º, 15º, 27º - communication, gadgets like televisions or phones, self-expression, books, siblings, neighbourhood, etc

cancer degrees — 4º, 16º, 28º - home, nurture, traditions, loyalty, faith, mother, water, etc

leo degrees — 5º, 17º, 29º - attention, life, fame, light, children, creativity, self-expression, monarchs, entertainment, strength, hair, etc

virgo degrees — 6º, 18º - to diminish, to make smaller, improvement, health, work, routine, pets, to be of service, etc

libra degrees — 7º, 19º - fairness, law, business, partnerships, fashion, beauty, charm, luxury items, music, art, etc

scorpio degrees — 8º, 20º - the 8º specifically is connected to death, wealth, to take from others, manifestation, secrets, insurance, sex, jealousy, pregnancy, etc

sagittarius degrees — 9º, 21º - abundance, expansion, wisdom, college, travelling, to explore, etc

capricorn degrees — 10º, 22º - to take control, public attention, coldness, fear, depression, rationality, ambition, father, etc

aquarius degrees — 11º, 23º - divorce, surprises, high places, high tech, new technology, humanitarianism, organizations, friends, networking, etc

pisces degrees — 12º, 24º - sleeping, drugs, alcohol, lethargy, the unconcious + our psyche, emotional dejections, feet, madness, shadows, unclear, endings, etc

0º represents the basic characteristic of the sign - it acts in its purest form. for example, if you have the 0º in aries sun, aries here acts in its most potent, pure way.

that way, if you, for example, have your ascendant in pisces at the 13º, you’ll express aries characteristics + all that is connected to taking action, to fight. now, knowing this, this theory can manifest itself in different ways.

i’m going to give an example that he talked about in his website that i found simple to understand yet powerful. when nikola was discussing with another astrologer, he wanted to talk about his degree theory, so he took a look at the birth chart of the wife of the other astrologer, and after a minute of analyzing it, he said as follows: “Your wife called a carpenter to the house and ordered a larger bed to be made. When the carpenter had finished the job, you went to bed and realized that the work was not properly done. One measure was right – the bed was long enough - but the other one wasn't – the bed wasn't wide enough, it was still narrow”. the look the other astrologer gave him told him that his brief analysis was absolutely correct.

his reasoning behind it was that the wife’s 12th house (which rules sleeping, beds, bedrooms) cusp began at the 21º of aries, and the ruler of that house, mars, was at the 6º in virgo. aries simbolizes to create and the 21º, a sagittarius degree, simbolizes to enlarge. so, his wife wanted to create (aries) a larger (sagittarius/jupiter) bed (the 12th house). because mars, the ruler of the 12th house, was placed in virgo (someone who renders services, a worker), she called the carpenter to the house. her mars was, however, in virgo at the 6º which is a virgo degree (virgo simbolizes diminishing, making smaller), which meant the measure of the bed had to be smaller than needed. therefore, the cusp of the 12th house (the bed) at the 21º (sagittarius - larger, longer) signifies that the bed was both long enough (enlarged), and mars in virgo at a virgo degree (6º) meant that it was not wide enough (it was narrow). nikola established connections between degrees, the signs, the planets and the houses where they fell and the aspects that they made in order to make this kind of predictions.

he also found a few degrees to be connected to significant things.

THE 2º DEGREE - SUPREME POWER

nikola, through the research of the birth charts of many people throughout history, observed how those who contained planets, houses and aspects (+lunar nodes, arabic parts, vertex and of course, the four cardinal points: the IC, MC, AC and DC) in the 2º degree were those who made remarkable achievements, who wielded extreme power and were highly respected. he got to this conclusion by analyzing the birth chart of queen victoria - other rulers at the time had more powerful aspects than she did, but allas, they weren’t the ones to almost rule the entire world - it was her, so he began noticing the pattern between power and the 2º. literal jesus himself had his mercury in pisces in the 2º. i myself have four degrees at 2º, so it’s nice to know my dreams of starting a revolution, overthrowing the government and achieving world domination are supported by the astros

THE 5º DEGREE - EROTICISM

this degree is connected to beauty, desire, sex appeal, receiving sexual attention. many sex icons like marilyn monroe, jean harlow and mata hari had it present in their birth chart. nikola talks about this being the best degree in his eyes. considering that it’s a leo degree, it’s all about living, having fun and enjoying life.

THE 11º DEGREE - DIVORCE / SUICIDE

both the 11º and 23º degrees of aquarius indicate divorce, but, according to nikola, the 11º is connected to suicide.

THE 15º DEGREE - CAR ACCIDENTS

this degree, when connected to scorpio + the 8th house, can indicate car accidents.

THE 18º DEGREE - PURE EVIL

simbolizes a bad destiny. to nikola, this is the worst degree you can have. it can indicate rare deseases, tragic accidents. he says there’s no good about this degree but i absolutely disagree. not to be a hopeless optimist or to pretend to possess half the knowledge that he does but i think it’s pretentious to assume that a degree is literally all bad and that there’s nothing we can do about it — that takes away from our free will and our inner strength. Many, many people have this degree present in their charts (i believe nikola had it himself), it’s all about facing hardships but, well, that’s life.

THE 22º DEGREE - TO KILL OR BE KILLED

nikola has found this degree in the birth charts of murderers + people that were murdered. his significance of “to kill or be killed” is quite literal. now, i want to remind you that this is the worst case scenario and that this degree can manifest itself in many diferent ways - just like the 18º and the 8º. the death can be figurative. for example, donald trump’s chart: he has his sun in 22º, and his mercury in 8º - and I’m afraid he’s quite alive at his old age and kicking it, even if he’s suffered a public destruction. @saintzjenx in her degree theory post talked about how this placement can also indicate abandonment. i agree, i have my sun at 22º in the 10th house (the house of the father) and my father was very emotionally absent + physically as well (his work has him working at other cities during the entire week)

THE 29º DEGREE - CLAIRVOYANCE/PROGNOSTICISM

the 29º indicates someone with clairvoyant potential, someone who makes accurate predictions, with great intuition. it’s to note that nikola himself had a 29º in his chart, and that he became known for the predictions he made using the degree theory (for example, he predicted that america would have its first black president ten years before barack obama was elected). but he does like to say that he has absolutely no intuition, though - what prompted him to study the degrees was his virgo rising, acording to him, his need to study and put his brain to work. still, he observed how many clairvoyants had this degree. other astrologers talk about this being a degree that means destruction (and when you analyze trump’s birth chart and how he has his ascendant and his 11th house at the 29º, you can very much argue about the truth behind that theory) but all in all, nikola talks about this degree as benefic.

in case you’re feeling bad, remember i have the to kill or be killed 22º, plus the 8º of death, plus the 11º of suicide, plus the 23º of divorce, plus two of the 18º of pure evil! let’s suffer together besties. on the upside i have four of the 2º so we riding to eternal glory!

but now seriously, i know some of this is very hard bc obviously life isn’t all fun and games but. remember that we all have free will, life isn’t determined and having a lot of these in your chart doesn’t mean impending doom!! i have them and i’m very much kicking it and i’m not intending to stop. it’s all about acceptance, learning how to work with even the worst degrees in order to make the best out of them. plus, the degrees can manifest themselves in a lot of different ways and a lot more matters than just them being present - like the signs that they’re in, the aspects with which they make and how harsh they are, the house where they fall etc etc.

please do take your time to read through his website + to watch the interviews nikola did on youtube!! he was an amazing astrologer whose theory greatly impacted the way astrology is studied today. he’s fun to learn from, too, which is a plus

#astrology #degree theory #capricorn #aries #scorpio #leo #sagittarius #gemini #aquarius #libra #virgo #taurus #cancer #pisces

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draken-rotzi · 3 years

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Bug Man x Reader Part One*

Read on AO3

SO, wanted to write something of this topic bc we all need some more Musical!BJ in our lives, it’s a nice comfort ngl, I enjoyed writing it and hope you do too c:

(Got carried away so here's the first half while I edit the second one in the meantime, it takes a bit to get to the main part we all want to read forgive mE it's better in th next one believeme)

I'd love some feedback since I haven't written anything since 2019 ;v; some wordings might seem odd since my brain speaks spanish first english second

Summary; Old boring university life and a broken but hopeful heart meet the supernatural and whacky demon/ghost with the most, reader-chan needs to get out from a toxic relationship and what's a better help than a magic dead man? Cutting ties might seem easier when someone else arrives and flips your world upside down with no warning.

Mostly fluff, bits of angst l8r

Female reader, but tried to not give any other specifics to the character themselves, OCs appear

It was a fresh autumn afternoon, birds still chirped before migrating to warmer areas for the winter, the wind was cold but nice, not yet freezing but enough for people to wear light coats. You sit on a school desk, a class about taxes and fees, you drift off a bit looking at the window while half-listening.

You lived in a medium but popular city, it was a great place, with nice, kind people for the most part, huge malls, restaurants and lots of places to go out with friends or alone.

...

"Miss ___? Care to answer this equation here for the class?" The teacher asks, a tall, slender woman that radiated authority, it made some students shiver in times like this with a direct question.

"Oh? Yeah- sure miss Adams" You replied, while trying not to look confused since you just missed the topic, hopefully you remembered from the last lesson by the time you walked up to the blackboard and took the marker to write.

...

After class, you were walking with your friends to the cafeteria next to the main exit to wait for an uber to arrive; your side job as a freelance wasn't good enough yet to afford a car, but it helped pay the bills and to have enough for a bit more more than the basic needs.

Your two best friends at college were Itai and Rob. Itai was a funny dude, with a darker tone on his skin, not so tall and full of charisma. Rob was a bit more collected, but still a lot of fun to be around, being the voice of reason for you three most of the time, emphasis in most, because sometimes he got carried away too.

"Man I hate that class, I don't understand a thing! Why do we even need math?" Itai tells the group, sounding annoyed as usual, he was a simple guy, but simple guys need a degree too, to secure a better job.

"Well if you paid attention instead of eating that cold baguette in class you won't be that confused my man" Rob replies, laughing a bit at the end

"At least you weren't asked to do math in front of the class" You sigh, putting down your backpack and sitting on a table next to the building's exit, looking at your phone to know how much time was left for the driver to arrive, around 10 minutes.

"Yeah everyone felt so bad for you, but hey, if you’ll be daydreaming at least look at the front instead of the window next time, it might help you" Rob said while opening a bottle of apple juice, his favorite, he wouldn't drink any other thing, he was probably 60% apple juice after years of drinking it that often.

A few minutes passed by, the three friends chatting about the day's events, their plans for the weekend, and how to get the next assignment done. A figure appeared behind you putting a hand on your shoulders.

"Well hello ladies!" A man chirped, you turned around laughing softly

"Hey yourself!" you replied "Already off?"

"Yeah I've got the last hour free so I'm gonna head out to Kris' place, we'll play some games and work on that big project I told you the other day"

"Great, have fun! You say hi to Kris from me yeah?"

"Sure thing, see you later!" He says with a squeeze of his hand on your shoulder, then a quick pat on the head, turning around to leave.

"Bye, take care Nick!" you say as the man walks out of the cafeteria's door waving a hand.

Silence lingers for a bit until Itai breaks it

"Hey so, you're still going out with him?" He says with a crooked smile and a nervous look, Rob has a similar expression

"Yeeeah... it's been okay for some time now, you know? Hah" You look down for a second, pondering "Maybe this time is the good run?" Uncertainty fills the question, but you still smile to your friends.

Nikolas wasn't the model boyfriend, at least not for your friends; he was full of sweet words, hugs and kisses, only in private places though. When it came to the campus he treated you just like any other friend.

There was a small reason, according to him, he wanted to wait a bit more to make it public, get to know each other better, just to be certain from both sides.

That was the excuse a year ago.

It wasn't like he was out and flirting with other people, not at all, but one could expect to be treated like a love partner after so much time and moments together, you’ve gone to the movies, to dinner, to each other's houses, hell your families knew you two were dating, it just wasn't more than the bare minimum from him, seemed more like a thing someone does if they have free time, not make time for that thing, the thing being the relationship.

It seemed to be only a problem of neglect and apathy, probably, though you were so dumbly in love with him at first, you have been hoping and asking for a change since the relationship escalated to more than just holding hands and light kisses.

"I don't think anything's gonna change, he's been stalling for a whole year now" Itai mumbled, looking at Rob, he nodded in agreement

"Yeah, just dump him already, you deserve way better, you give him everything you got and he just throws the leftovers at you."

"I guess, but we're going out this weekend! You know he doesn't like going out often"

"With you" Rob adds

You hesitate a reply, it was true, most of the times you asked him to go out for a change, he was either too busy or decided to change the event the same day, turning it into a make out session in his house every time. Even though you saw each other 2 days every week, you have seen him go out with his friends more often, on actual enrichment outside activities.

"I know..." you sigh " I'll think about it, I'll try to talk with him about it next time”

Both of your friends let out a small groan of annoyance, they knew you weren't gonna do it, or that he'll just brush it off as always, between the lines of 'oh you're overreacting'

"Ah my ride's here!" You got up from the table and grabbed your backpack, tossing it over one shoulder.

"See he can't even give you a lift to your place!" Itai teased, they knew how you felt about the whole situation, but joking around sometimes made it a bit less bitter.

"Ha-ha, you know we live in opposite ends of the city! Besides none of you give me a ride either" you said while sticking a tongue out on your way outside the cafeteria

"Yeah because you live at the ends of the earth for some weird reason!" Rob joked back

Everyone said their quick goodbyes, and after a calm ride back home you remembered something just as you were locking the door, tossing your backpack into the living room’s couch you walked over to your room.

You flopped onto the bed, looking at your phone you opened some pending messages on the family group chat, apparently a distant relative of yours had died, and the family was gonna hold a small funeral tomorrow morning on the local cemetery, you didn’t enjoy those kind of events since you’d get really emotional, but since it was something really small, no more than 20 people, it was private and most likely no strangers would see you cry over someone you barely knew.

Tomorrow was saturday so it was okay to spend one free morning humoring your family.

After some mindless browsing on your phone, it was already 12:30am, you haven’t even got off your sneakers since you got home, you did a quick self-cleanup in the bathroom, tossing today’s clothes to the side to change into an oversized shirt with no pants as a makeup pijamas, it got a bit warmer in the afternoon so you wanted to enjoy wearing something light before winter fully arrived, getting under the sheets and you were out fast, maybe from all the overthinking of what’d tomorrow might bring, you’ve forgotten what are funerals like.

But there was certainly no way you’d know what would happen at all the next day

...

The event was simple, thankfully there was not much crying, seemed like everyone accepted already what had happened, some kind of illness you heard, at least they weren’t suffering anymore and they’ve come to terms with everyone close to them, that was nice you thought, it sure felt a bit heavy in there, as usual for funerals. After the ceremony, the family offered a barbeque in the departed’s honor to bright up the mood a bit; right at the cementery, maybe it was cheaper than renting a place for it.

Free tasty food was something only an idiot would decline, so you spent some time doing small talk with the relatives you knew best, but still you mostly just listened and ate in silence.

You saw a glimpse of color and movement out of the corner of your eye, since everyone was wearing dark tones it stood out, turning your head there was just an empty plastic table with some half-full plates and glasses, still, you felt a shiver up your spine, it was probably the weather.

When you looked back at your phone's clock it was already 6 pm, guess dad jokes and food made time fly, you said your goodbyes and condolences to everyone and headed out, you were still at the cemetery, so you had to call a ride back home, the driver dropped you near a convenience store just around the corner of your apartment, since you needed to buy a snack for dinner, on sundays you usually had takeout, so no need to worry much about it right now.

_______________________________________________________

“I know I didn’t imagine anything, that breather saw me at the cemetery! we even locked eyes for a second! It may work this time, just gotta get closer while they're alone”

_______________________________________________________

…

Walking down the street, humming a bit to some music and a bag of snacks in hand, dusk started to set, some stars could be seen and the sky was a beautiful fuchsia tone with oranges and purples mixed in the clouds. On instinct, you took your phone out of your jeans pocket to take a picture of the cute sky.

Just as you took a couple of pictures, to make sure at least one was good to share, something caught your attention out of the corner of your eye again

You felt a shiver like a cold wind out of nowhere, similar as to when a car drives a bit too close to someone on winter, but there was not even one driving car on the street.

"Oof, should get back now, it's getting colder" picking up the peace to get home faster-

A piece of paper slapped you in the face

“EW- wind trash” you muttered while grabbing what seemed to be a flyer, and it flew indeed.

You naturally took a closer look at it when you took it into your hands and out of your face, it was a very faded print, with an image of an… insect? man? holding a hammer over a small house and people, you chuckled, it was a funny irony cartoon, a bug crushing people.

Half of the flyer was unreadable because of some liquid or dirt, already dry but you couldn’t read what was supposed to be, written under the drawing was the end of an ad;

“Ghostly services one name away!

RESIDENTIAL - INDUSTRIAL - COMMERCIAL

Call BETELGEUSE

BETELGEUSE

BETELGEUSE!”

“Betelgeuse? ...Like that one star?” There was that shiver again, Halloween was a week ago, so this kind of paper seemed normal to be hanging around with the wind.

As you walked down the street, some lights started flickering, the cold wind seemed stronger and the sky was a deep dark purple now, strange, it was supposed to be clear dark blue by now, fall nights came quickly this time of the year, still it didn't feel like the usual night. You were just around the corner of your street when the closest light bulb exploded and zapped with a loud 'CRASH', making you stop for a second cowering from the shards

"What the-!? No one told me we'd be getting winter thunderstorms sooner what the eff" muttering swears you made a run to your apartment, scurrying for the door keys in the process, lights kept flashing and the wind made windows sing a high 'oooo' noise, you have seen this kind of weather before but no one would like to be outside when it happened, nervously and quickly you finally fit the key in the lock and opened the door, hurrying inside and closing it behind, a loud bang thundered through the silent room, the unexpected storm slamming against the walls and windows, you left the lights on before going out.

After a minute it seemed to calm down, wind turning into a breeze and the sky now it's usual black, no stars in the sky.

You let out a sigh and walked to the counter to drop your keys, the phone and your purse, you had to make sure all the windows were closed for the night, luckily it was Saturday, so no need to go out tomorrow on that crazy weather.

Windows secured, you changed into your winter pajamas, a gray pair of pants with a pattern of a cat on toast and eggs, with a pastel blue loose shirt. Making your way to the kitchen you decided a light snack would be enough for tonight, after that run and emotion on the way back home you had no energy to cook a proper dinner, not even microwave, it was also too late for it anyways you thought.

You put the snack bowl and a cup of water on the kitchen counter, looking to grab your phone. You noticed you still had the dirty flyer, forgot to drop it between the commotion maybe?

Placing it aside and unlocking your phone screen, you opened the ‘best friend's’ chat group

You. 'Hey guys, did you get any of that weird winter storm action today after school?'

Rob. 'Nah, it was a clear sky for me'

Itai. 'Same, also I was asleep all afternoon'

You. 'Strange, I got caught on this whirlwind on my way back home from the store, just my luck I guess >:('

Both of the boys. 'Lol yea'

Putting the phone down and chomping on some of the snacks, you thought about the events, it was indeed a clear sky earlier, only a couple of common clouds you took pictures of before it. You grabbed the phone again, quickly to see if any of the photos looked good.

"Pleasepleaseplease" you muttered in excitement, it was a very cute view, hopefully one picture captured it nicely.

And they did, a couple looked stunning, you smiled, thinking at least it was worth getting your hair all messed up by the wind, you were about to delete one picture it since it was blurry when you noticed a different kind of blur, it was gray with splashes of green in the corner, similar to what you saw at the funeral.

"There was nothing green on the other pictures, was it?" you looked through the other photos and they were pretty normal, full of pink, purple and blue from the sunset.

You looked back at the flyer

"Betelgeuse, betelgeuse, betelgeuse huh" You said in a playful tone, grabbing the torn paper from the counter, you felt a shiver, a strong one this time, well that was the opposite of a calming experience, but still the word felt strange when you said it, it wasn't like you hadn't said before, Orion was a popular constellation, and the Betelgeuse star was on it; but this time the air inside had a tense feeling.

All the lights went off after a second "Now a blackout? What's with today ugh" picking up your phone to use as a flashlight, after a couple of seconds before you could turn it on, all the lights came back again, but you almost had a heart attack when you saw someone standing in the center of the living room, enveloped in a green mist.

"FUCK wh- WHO THE FUCK-" you stuttered before turning around and grabbing the closest thing to use as a weapon, a wooden spoon used for beating eggs this morning "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE? WHO ARE YOU? GET OUT!"

The figure was a man, taller than you, dressed in a striped black and white suit, dark hair with green tints at the end, a wicked smile plastered on his face, he took a look around, then back to you, endless chills went down your spine when you met his eyes, you could feel the tense aura from before growing stronger, anticipating, colder.

"Well who might I be? You should know, you called my name baby! Glad to make some business with you tonight!" He said as he extended a hand and walked, floated? quickly towards a paralized you, frozen in place, you only managed to put the spoon up in self defense from whomever this man could be, the lights were out for just a few seconds, was he inside the apartment all this time?

"S-stop right there you!" tried to threaten the man with the wooden tool, he didn't seem to notice nor care, wrapping an arm around your shoulders, then placing a sloppy kiss in your face, petrified, you shivered and gripped the spoon harder, he felt oddly cold.

...Did he just kiss you? Who does he think he is??

"No no, no stopping now! We just got started cakes, and now that you said my name three times, I can finally interact with you and everything here in the world of the living! Gotta say thanks it's been real boring being invisible for so long lemme tell ya-"

*WHACK*

You hit the man in the head with the wooden spoon as hard as you could.

...the spoon broke.

The man's smile grew wider

#hope it's o k a y #I'll reblob this tomorrow with tags it's 2am help me #fanfic #fanfiction #beetlejuice #betelgeuse #beetlejuice x reader #beetlejuice x you #musical beetlejuice #draft #female reader #could be both Blum or Alex I love them both sm #or any other that u seem fit #I need a name for this jhfdsdfj #is 'whack' the correct sound?#sorry for the cliff #might edit later

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jonspurpleskirt · 3 years

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An Unlikely Befriending

Summary: Jon gets kidnapped. Jon gets bored. And Jon makes very unlikely friends because of it. Aka: Pen and Paper saves the day (world) and Jon finally gets to have a band. A/N: This is pure fluff, no warnings apply I think. ___

The worst thing about being kidnapped by a crazy mannequin murder clown monstrousity and sitting in a cold, room with creepy wax works, tied to a chair was not the ever present terror. True the fear of Nikola finally deeming his skin good enough and skinning him alive was quite potent, but it wasn't as bad as boredom.

Jon had never taken well to waiting. His mind needed to be occupied 24/7, needed something to latch onto, to obsess about. It's why he became a researcher in the first place. Having most of his freedom taken from him made occupying himself very hard.

At least they still let him eat and drink here and there. Nikola always visited personally, her overly cheery voice bubbling forth as she chattered away while slathering him with lotion or shoving bits of take out food in his mouth. His diet those last two weeks had been very varied and healthy and he had never drank so much water before.

He still probably looked a mess, what with no access to a shower and barely being able to sleep at all. And the constant terror. Oh yeah and the boredom.

Oh the boredom.

Jon was currently sitting in his chair as he was wont to do. Thankfully not nailed down despite all the nagging from Sarah Baldwin. The coffin was singing or moaning with a slight melody behind it, depending on who you asked. And somehow Jon found himself humming along, trying to find a good melody to go with the haunting tune. It wasn't like he had anything better to do and if he didn't start doing something creative his mind would start eating itself soon.

So he hummed, experimenting with the notes, twisting them into something that was reminiscent of circus music and airships. And then he kept humming the melody over and over, forming words in his mind to go with the tune. Once the spark was lit a fire started to burn, the story branching out and out into a twirling mass of chaos and fire.

He had gotten lost in his imagination, hadn't noticed how loud he had become, hadn't heard Nikola approach. Jon screeched when she leant down over him and grinned at him upside down, nose nearly touching his.

Nikola had the gall to laugh at him, no breath fanning over his face as she did so.

"Awww Archivist! I didn't know you had such a nice voice!"

"Hrmph."

"Yes your singing was also quite good!" She straightened herself, back cracking in several places. Striding around his chair she towered over him, tattered, bloody ringmaster uniform filling his field of vision.

"I'm glad you feel comfortable enough to sing, of course! And the broken repeat is lovely."

"Hm."

"Anyway water time!"

With gleeful cackling she ripped the tape from his mouth, amused enough to not immediately shove the bottle between his teeth.

"There are words to it, too." Jon rushed to say, not exactly sure why. What was he offering her here? A solo performance?

"Oh?" she at least didn't tape his mouth shut again. For now.

After waiting several beats where both stared at each other and nothing else happened Jon dared to speak up again.

"I ah... well I wrote it myself? Not wrote, of course. My hands are tied at the moment-" He was rambling. Nikola had given him the freedom of speech and he was off like a shot, telling her everything about what he had been thinking about before she had interrupted his impromptu jamming session, terror completely terminating his brain to mouth filter.

Nikola, for her part, took it all in stride. She even settled on the floor in front of him, blinking every now and then to indicate that she was still present.

"It's such a shame." she finally spoke, holding the water bottle to his mouth, letting him drink of his own volution for once. "You would have made a perfect piece for the choir. Hm maybe what will be left of you will do."

"I could sing for you now." Jon offered as soon as his mouth was free again.

Nikola startled at the offer and Jon just shrugged as much as he was able to. He'd rather sing to a creepy murder doll than spend one minute longer alone and bored out of his mind. And if he could delay the Unknowing (and the violent removal of his skin) by keeping Nikola entertained than even better.

That sounded like he almost had a plan. Which was untrue. He only had a very strong desire for entertainment.

"No sneaky questions." Nikola warned.

"Promise. I can't guarantee good quality rhymes, though. I'm still workshopping."

Singing out loud what had been in his head was always an awkward affair. He had wanted to start a band with Georgie in uni. But it was exactly because of this that he had never bothered.

"That was fun!" Nikola screamed after he was finished nontheless. Clapping her hands in delight, which created a horrible cracking noise.

"I'm glad? I also DM."

She tilted her head at him. "What's that?"

Jon explained the concept of pen and paper games to her while she rubbed lotion into his skin and had her hooked immediately.

Later that day (or maybe the next day, really Jon had no concept of time anymore) Jon was for the first time allowed out of his chair, carefully rubbing circulation back into his hands. Nikola had only briefly left him alone after watering and lotioning him. They had hashed out what kind of world and system they wanted to use (a horror setting, of course) and then Nikola was off and dragging Breekon and Hope back into the room so they had enough people to play.

Either Breekon or Hope sat down behind Jon, large hands lightly clasping his arms, squeezing every once in a while to remind him that should he try and escape he would only end up in pain.

Jon shifted awkwardly in the grip, unused to gentleness even if it was supposed to be threatening.

"Alright. First, character creation. Who do you guys want to play?"

It became a daily thing. The three beings in his group quickly became addicted to his story telling and to the characters they were allowed to play. Nikola tore through characters, trying on different personalities like pieces of clothing. She had a beautiful eery singing voice, Jon was surprised to find out when she had decided to play a member of a steampunk band.

Breekon and Hope were less manic, too attached to their twins to play anyone else. They changed voices and accents every session, though. Jon deigned to ignore their shenanigans, scared to make them angry. He hadn't had this much fun in ages, he didn't want to loose that.

The two delivery men took turns holding him down while they played, Hope holding onto his arms and Breekon using him like a child would a Teddy bear.

Eventually the three lingered after their sessions had ended, the ropes that tied him to his chair less tight. Jon tried to keep the conversations casual, to not ask all the questions that burned at the tip of his tongue. He found that he didn't need to. Tongue loose from goofing around Nikola was often chatty, Breekon and Hope throwing in their two cents every once in a while.

Eventually the topic about Tims younger brother came up.

"Danny Stoker? Grimauldi skinned him? Hm..." Nikolas head nearly dislodged as she stared at the ceiling in thought. "Noooo." She giggled. "We didn't skin anyone that night, silly! We were scoping out locations for the dance! Danny's little group stumbled into us and got a little confused~"

"But Tim saw Grimauldi rip Dannys skin off of a puppet."

Nikola shrugged. "An illusion. We're good at making you people see things that aren't really there. Yet."

"So Danny is alive?"

"I believe so!~ If he didn't die in a ditch somewhere."

Jon was very careful to keep his voice as soft as possible with the next question. "Could you find him again and bring him to the Institute? To Tim and... I don't know... maybe that's a stupid idea given that he can't be sure it's really him..."

"If I track him down do I get inspiration for my character next session?"

"That's cheating." Breekon complained under his breath behind Jon.

"I... yes?"

Nikola grinned. "Wonderful! I see what I can do!"

Days went by like that, Nikola or Breekon or Hope updating him on Dannys search, which had turned out to be harder than they had thought. Well at least Jon was keeping them busy.

They were in the middle of racing a burning train into the central bank of London when a door creaked behind Jon, bathing the room in technicolour and spiral shapes.

"That is not what I thought I'd find here." A voice that wavered between confused and gleeful mused.

Jon twisted in the grip Breekon had on him. "Hello Michael."

"Hello Archivist. You've found yourself in an interesting situation." The grin Michael shot him was a knife glinting in the light before striking.

"Yes. Why are you here?"

Nikola had let him practice after Jon had explained his lack of training, much more lax with her hostage now that he fed her fascinating stories of blood and gore. So there was no trace of compulsion in his voice when he asked the question.

Michael answered truthfully anyway. "I came to kill you of course!"

"I have dips on that!" Nikola said, voice pleasant and grin feral.

"I'm sorry about that. Would you like to join the game instead?"

Michael stared at him as though he had grown mad. Impressed, curious and lightly terrified. Then it laughed that horrible, headache inducing laugh.

"There's a lot of lies and delusion." Jon coaxed, heart beating out of his chest with nerves.

"He's a good storyteller." Hope added, Nikola and Breekon nodding along.

"Hm alright. I guess I can play for a bit."

It didn't stay just for a bit. Michael stayed through the finale of the story and then demanded to start another, their little ragtag group of definitely not heroes causing more chaos than any other player group Jon had ever DMed before. And that was saying something. Hours upon hours passed, Michael disappearing and reappearing to get Jon coffee and tea to keep his voice from giving out.

In the middle of it all Michael began twitching and twisting, glitching in and out of sight before slumping to the ground with a groan, form for once near comprehensible. Another door opened and out walked Helen looking down at the Distortion in disappointment.

"Oh that didn't destroy you. Shame."

"Helen?"

"Hello Jon! I was coming to rescue you given that Michael got a little distracted. Do you want to come to the archives with me?"

Honestly Jon should have been shocked, probably angry. He was definitely sad. And yet the most he felt was just an overwhelming sense of whelp.

Jon vaguely gestured towards Nikola, as much as Breekons hold allowed him to. "Ask her."

"We're not done yet."

"Later then?"

Nikola considered Jon for a long moment, both staring unblinking at each other. "Give us an hour."

To Jons great surprise Helen just nodded and delicately sat on the chair Jon usually frequented in his "freetime" all prim and proper except for the long sharp fingers curling at the edges like corkscrews.

"Now where were we?"

Michael groaned from the floor for once not smiling. Jon felt a twinge of sympathy for him.

"Are you alright?"

"Been better. Been worse. Let's burn this village down!"

There was no end to the tale they had been playing, not with just one session of playtime. Jon felt a bit bad about that, especially because he had left it at a cliffhanger. No one seemed to be angry at him for it, though. Michael had recovered fast and was again his usual ominous cheery, albeit lightly aggressive self. He poked and prodded at Helen like a curious cat while Nikola massaged lotion into Jons skin for the last time and handed him several expensive looking bottles, rattling down a step by step skin care routine he was to follow to the t or else she would break into his house and do it herself.

Hope patted him on the head. "See you around, Archivist."

"You're really letting me go? Just like that?" Jon still couldn't believe it.

Nikola shrugged. "I found another option. And I'd like to keep doing this after the Unknowing."

"Will that be even possible?"

The grin he got from was not at all reassuring. "I don't know~"

Well that was probably the best he would get from her. Jon gave a hesitant tiny wave and, flanked by both Michael and Helen stepped through their door.

Back at the archive no one had even questioned his disappearance. A fact that made Michael and Helen laugh, even though they both refused to leave as Tim, Melanie and Basira questioned him about his whereabouts.

Martin was the only one who took Jons forced vacation in stride. Maybe he even was a little too happy about a group of mannequins harassing him to take better care of himself.

"You're not compromised now, are you?" Basira asked when Jon had settled back into his office after a long shower.

"No? Because I still don't want the world to end?"

"Good."

Somehow Jon knew that she would still keep an eye on him from now on.

~~~

When the day came to blow up the ritual site Jon hadn't slept a wink in three nights and was overcome by guilt. Despite how aweful his initial time at the circus had been and despite him knowing what horrible things Nikola and her kin did in their freetime, Jon still felt bad about probably killing her.

He tried to rationalize his feelings away, connecting his rising anxiety with the fact that Danny still hadn't been found. It was a flimsy denial.

Tim stayed by his side the whole time, resolute in his burning desire for vengeance. Jon was scared that he would loose him to this, too. Had confessed as much to Michael and Helen, who had taken to keeping at least one door manifested somewhere in the tunnels at all times. The two had started to get along well after some initial disagreement. The Spiral, split as it was between the two of them, was weaker in its influence now, leaving more of Michael Shelley and Helen Richardson to make decisions.

They weren't here now. Daisy, Basira and Tim were, setting up explosives and arguing about rescuing people that were already long dead.

And then Nikola appeared and the dance started and nothing made sense anymore.

Jon woke up six months later, Georgie calling him a monster and Basira giving him a statement to "eat" catching him up on everything he had missed. Tim had miraculously survived, having been dragged through a door by either Helen or Michael. Daisy and Basira had encountered Breekon and Hope, who had argued about what they should do with "Jons feral friends" and in the end had led them savely out of the building before it could go boom, muttering about possible inspiration points.

The only one who hadn't been saved was Jon. He tried not to feel too hurt about that.

Coming back to work was as anti climatic as it had been after the kidnapping. The only one who seemed happy to see him was Martin. He had apologized profusely for the hug and promptly stopped doing so when Jon dashed forward and back into Martins warm embrace, finally breaking down.

He had been too caught up in his crying to make a note of the little kiss Martin pressed into his hair.

They all were a little lost after averting the apocalypse, normal everyday life eluding them. Elias might have been out of the picture for the moment, but Peter Lukas had taken over and fighting against the isolation was taking its toll on everyone.

They were all huddled in the breakroom, faces grim and stewing in silence so as to not break into an arguement when they got their delivery.

Breekon and Hope stepped into the small space with their usual nonchalance dragging a scared young man between them, who had a lot of resemblance to Tim.

"Delivery for Jonathan Sims. Nikola says hi."

Tim was the first one up. "No... No no nononononono that can't be. He's dead. Jon. Jon tell me is that really him?!"

Jon looked at the scared man, who had his gaze locked on Tim, recognition slowly dawning on his face. He Looked and he Knew.

"Yes. No one was killed the night Danny disappeared. His group encountered Nikola and her troupe during a rehearsal, got confused and then lost. And was lost ever since. Nikola told me of this. She promised to find him for me, for you."

That was all Tim needed to rush forward, catching his brother in his arms and hugging him close. "Danny!"

Danny clung back just as tightly, awareness barely back. Still obviously shaken and confused.

Jon smiled at the two delivery men. "Thank you. Will he... will he be alright."

Hope shrugged. "Dunno. Nikola said to make him remember bit by bit. Been not Danny for a long time. Might need to get used to it again."

"We'll take it slow." Tim promised, silent tears streaming down his face.

"Good luck. Hey Archivist, do we get inspiration, too?"

Jon laughed, incredulous. The others in the room watched the exchange with varying degress of exasperation and outrage.

"You know what? Yes. Yes you have. And I'll give you all advantage on your rolls next session. Only that one session, though! Same for Nikola. How is she, by the way?"

Breekon made a so-so sign. "Restless. We've waited over six months to find out what happens after that cliffhanger you gave us."

"Right." He still couldn't believe it. "Tonight 8 o'clock, my flat?"

Twin grins, the most excited he had ever seen them. "See you then, Archivist."

Tim was still gently hushing his brother, rocking back and forth on his feet to try and calm him down a little. And he still had tears streaming down his face, looking like an absolute wreck. But he still managed to join the unimpressed stares that were thrown his way by everyone but Martin, who at this point had just started to roll with the punches.

"You really befriended the clown club and made them rescue literally all of us?" Basira asked in a deadpan voice.

"I kind of feel cheap now." Daisy muttered. "As though those clowns let us win."

"Look, what can I say? Pen and Paper games are fun. I can't blame them. And Nikola did want to start a band."

"Oh my god." Melanie groaned, her head thunking onto the table. "I can't believe it."

"A band?" Basira asked, suddenly much more alert. They really had gotten quite desensitized to the whole monster thing, hadn't they? "What, you can sing?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. But really. Shouldn't we... I mean shouldn't we focus on Danny? There's a cot-"

"I know." Tim interrupted. "We all know there's a cot. I'll take him home, you keep talking about your weird band plans. Monster boss? We talk later, but... thank you."

Silence reigned long enough to follow Tim out of the Institute before Martin piped up, cheeks reddening before he had even opened his mouth. "Could we... Could we have a taste?"

"A taste? Of what? My voice?"

"Hold up, if Sims is going to sing I'll have to record it." Melanie tapped on her phone and held it into the room as one would do a microphone. "Alright go."

Jon sighed, what he didn't do to keep up the group morale.

"Aww shit." Was Basiras conclusion when he was done. "What kind of music were you thinking of playing?"

"Steampunk."

"Count me in."

~~~

Today had been weird, Jon thought, mind reeling from the whiplash of... kindness? That had happened after the delivery of one Danny Stoker. Granted the last month, no

year

had been weird. But this had topped it all. At least it had been a nice weird.

Jon had nearly forgotten about his appointment with a certain group of Strangers when he got back to his flat, overworked, hungry and still processing. So he should be forgiven for the scream he let out when he saw three large figures huddling on his too small couch.

"You haven't been taking care of your skin at all!"

There was no time to duck away from the cold, hard hands that fluttered all over his body. Nikola squished his cheeks like a proper grandmother, clearly unhappy about their elasticity.

"I was in a coma for six months."

"And awake for a few weeks now." A cheerful male voice said from behind him, bringing the smell of pizza with it.

"We were there he didn't take care of himself at all!" Helen added, putting down several cans of soda and what looked to be instant coffee.

"You're horrible!" Nikola wailed, manhandling him until he was squished between Breekon and Hope. "All my beautiful work! Ruined!"

"Uh... sorry?"

"You can make it up to us with weekly sessions." Michael suggested with a grin.

"Both on Saturday and Sunday!" Helen added.

"I actually planned for Sunday to be band day." Jon lied. "Basira wants to join, by the way."

They were all settled around the small coffee table now, food and drink on the floor so they had enough place to roll their dice.

"Wonderful! What did you think we'd name it?"

Jon tilted his head given the illusion of thinking it over even though he had known what to name his band since highschool.

"The Mechanisms."

#tma #jonathan sims #nikola orsinov #breekon and hope #michael the distortion #helen the distortion #kidnapping #fun times #humor #fluff #fanfiction #my writing #everyone lives cause i said so #even danny #enemies to friends

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haberdashing · 3 years

Text

second skin

the tale of jonathan sims, selkie.

on ao3

jonathan sims’ first memories are of living by the sea that he loved with a woman who feared it.

he longed to spend every second he could in the water. jon would race home after school every day and grab his skin and race back off to the beach, not listening to his grandmother’s shouts for him to stop. the water was always cool and sweet and right as it pressed against his skin.

he couldn’t understand, at the time, why she was always so worried about him.

threats didn’t stop him. the police having to intervene in his journeys towards the beach didn’t stop him. the water was his home as much as the air, and he didn’t care what he had to do to reach it, or who didn’t care for his actions along the way.

what finally stopped him from making those frequent treks to the beach was when his grandmother took his skin when he was at school and hid it away, saying that she would only give it back to him when she felt he was responsible enough to handle it.

the two never spoke of the matter again.

going to oxford for uni was... an experience. jon had never spent so much time inland before, had never lived somewhere that didn’t smell strongly of sea salt. it was disorientating, even more than going from bournemouth to oxford normally would be, and jon flailed a little at first--not in his classes, which he always aced, but in everything else.

and then he found his path, found his people, even found a girlfriend for some time. he started his studies of the paranormal and supernatural in earnest, though he never dared tell anyone why he was so interested in the topic.

(one night georgie happened to be writing a paper on selkie lore while jon was there, and somehow things devolved into her grabbing a fur coat from her closet and making jokes about jon stealing “her coat” from her.

jon bit his tongue until it bled to stop himself from shooting back that she wasn’t the one who had to worry about such things.)

jon’s grandmother passed away not long after his graduation from uni when he was living in london, still struggling to find his place in the world.

he’d almost forgotten that she had his skin until he stumbled upon it again.

it wasn’t anywhere too special, wasn’t locked up tightly. it was just in a dusty cardboard box underneath her bed, one of many.

jon almost didn’t recognize it at first. he thought it’d be smaller. it had been smaller when he’d lost it, after all. it must have kept growing as he did.

(some small distant part of jon’s brain wondered about the mechanics of a skin growing while unattached to the person it belonged to, the science behind it all, but it wasn’t as if he could go back in time and do experiments to prove any hypothesis he might develop.)

but he knew it by sight, and though it’d been over a decade since he’d last worn it now putting it on was like a reflex, a motion as practiced as if he’d done it daily all his life.

only after he put it on did jon remember why his grandmother had hidden it from him in the first place, realize the implications of it still being tucked away in this dusty old box.

maybe she didn’t understand. she wasn’t born to the water like he was, after all. she didn’t know what it was like, didn’t know how much of a part of him it was.

or maybe she understood well enough, and to her dying day, she still didn’t want him to have his own skin. maybe she didn’t believe that jon had matured enough to handle the responsibility of it, even after all this time.

he’d never get to ask her about it.

the skin was soft and warm, but as jon sat there in that gloomy old house, he still felt chilled to the bone.

when jon joined the magnus institute as a researcher, the first thing he was assigned to look into involved the history of the selkie-hunting field, especially as it related to a recent case involving two especially bold and bloody selkie hunters.

jon had avoided looking into the topic too closely before then. he knew his heritage came with risks as well as rewards, he wasn’t that naive, but he’d never wanted to face those risks head-on, never wanted to look into the details, had worried that doing so might well be enough to attract unwanted attention.

but it was his job now to read case after case about selkies being abused, being killed, being sold as slaves or spouses or pets... and the people who said that their pain didn’t count, didn’t matter, because after all, it’s not like they were human...

after the first day of this research, jon went out and bought a large safe, stuffed his skin inside of it, locked it up, and vowed never to mention the matter to anybody again unless absolutely necessary.

(it wasn’t until long after that first research session that jon first suspected that elias hadn’t assigned him that particular case by mere coincidence.)

jon knew the supernatural existed, of course. hell, jon was supernatural himself, despite all outward appearances to the contrary.

that didn’t make the sinking feeling that he was being watched every time he read a statement in his new position as head archivist any easier to stomach.

just because he knew some magic didn’t mean he knew this magic. he didn’t know what it was, didn’t know what it meant, and he didn’t like it, didn’t trust it.

it felt like the safest thing was to deny it all, play the skeptic. nobody’d suspect his own supernatural secret if he refused to admit that the supernatural was real, after all, right?

(for better or for worse, prentiss at least didn’t seem to discriminate...)

learning that gertrude had been murdered brought back memories of those early research sessions for the institute, except that jon knew this time there was a different motivation behind someone wanting to kill him. presumably, anyway.

it was kind of sad that jon could think of at least two different reasons someone might want to kill him now. he hadn’t even done anything to warrant what felt like a certain and looming execution. he was at risk simply because he existed.

jon investigated his coworkers’ secrets over the months that followed, but didn’t dare trust any of them with his own.

one target on his back was enough already.

(as jon found out the details of the true threat to his existence, as he hid in the tunnels under the institute from the thing that was not sasha, he wondered if, when it replaced him--and it seemed inevitable, at this point, seemed like a “when” rather than an “if”--if it would know the secret he’d hidden so well, or if his imposter would appear perfectly, blandly human, with nothing of value left hidden away in that safe in his flat.)

jon didn’t have much time to grab his things before heading to georgie’s, but he still made sure to bring his skin with him. he couldn’t risk someone else getting a hold of it or risk the safe being thrown away when he went on the run, ending up in a landfill far away with none aware of the precious cargo still hidden within.

naturally, when jon arrived at georgie’s door, halfway into a breakdown and carrying what appeared to be a thick fur coat in his arms, one of the first things she said to him was an offer to take his skin off his hands and put it away for him.

jon wasn’t sure of the exact expression he made upon hearing that offer, but based on the look on georgie’s face, it must have been quite the sight.

he stammered his way through his refusal, saying that it was a family heirloom, precious and fragile, and it wasn’t that he didn’t trust her, obviously he did, but he still preferred to handle it himself... and none of it was a lie, exactly--and perhaps that was what led georgie to back down, as she knew his tells well enough, knew that he wasn’t lying to her face--but he certainly wasn’t divulging the full truth, either.

jon caught georgie looking curiously at the skin a few times, but she never voiced the many questions she must have had about it, never said a word about it after that first night, and for that jon was certainly grateful.

the worst part about being kidnapped by the circus-

no, that wasn’t right. there were a lot of horrible parts about being kidnapped by the circus, and jon wasn’t sure which, if any, could truly take the title of “worst.” there were plenty of contenders for the title.

but one of the terrible parts about being kidnapped by the circus, at any rate, was that of all the places they could have taken him, they’d chosen to keep him by the sea.

he could smell the sea salt in the air, could feel the cool ocean breeze against his face. he was so close to the sea, the closest he’d been in years now... while bound to a chair, unable to approach the water he could sense was just a few short blocks away from him.

he could feel the sea calling to him, but he couldn’t answer its call, no matter how much he wanted to do so.

(jon wondered what the living mannequins that tended to him would do if, when they were in the middle of so painstakingly moisturizing his skin for nikola’s future use, he pointed out that that wasn’t even his real skin they were working on, that his true skin was safely locked up some distance away.

jon decided against finding out the hard way.)

jon told the archives staff, after he... got back, that he’d been held somewhere close to the sea.

martin asked how he could be so sure, and jon sputtered a bit before saying that he could smell the sea from where he’d been held.

it wasn’t a lie.

but apparently when most of them returned to the wax museum, ready to put a stop to the unknowing one way or another, none of the rest of them could smell it from that distance, even though the sea was right there, right there, how could they not-

none of them pressed the issue. they had enough to worry about already.

when jon returned to the institute, after waking up from his coma (after escaping death), he had assumed that his skin was long gone at this point, that his fears about leaving it in his place to be discarded or picked over by others had been assumed after all, that he would never see it again.

and then, in an unassuming plastic bag containing an assortment of his things that was all he had left to his name now, he found it, buried under an old band shirt and a few sets of underwear.

he knew what it was at a glance, of course, and he had to suppress his reflexive gasp, had to suppress his initial instinct to throw it on immediately. melanie and basira already thought he was a monster; jon had no interest in turning into a seal within sight of them and proving them both right.

but jon pressed his hands into the thick, soft fur, and for the briefest of moments, despite everything, the world felt right again.

jon wondered, briefly, if he really needed to remove a part of his body to serve as an anchor, if he really needed the boneturner’s assistance on the matter.

after all, his skin was already separate, already removed, already waiting for him in the archives.

but was that enough? he’d gone over a decade without it before, after all, and it hadn’t magically called him back or anything like that. he’d only stumbled onto it again by mere happenstance.

no, better to be sure, better to leave behind something that was always meant to be attached to him...

his rib would do the trick quite nicely.

when jon heard that there was a way to quit the institute, a way to leave behind the beholding, he grabbed his skin and brought it with him as he rushed to discuss the matter with martin.

they could leave, they could be free, they could be together; blindness was a small price to pay for that, wasn’t it? all martin needed to do was take his hand, take his skin... take it, martin, take it-

martin refused to take jon’s skin from him.

as jon cried afterwards, his tears tasted a bit like sea water.

the lonely was a poor imitation of a beach, really.

maybe if things had been different jon wouldn’t have noticed, but he knew beaches, knew the sea, and it didn’t make his eyes sting like this, wasn’t this quiet and empty and desolate.

it still called to him a little, but the call was not that of the ocean, but that of another part of himself, the part that didn’t dare connect with people, didn’t dare share the truth of his life with them.

jon ignored the call. he had a greater duty here.

besides, seeing martin’s face light up was more beautiful than the sea could ever be.

daisy’s safehouse was only a few short miles from the sea, though martin swore he couldn’t smell it, wouldn’t know how close it was if he hadn’t seen it on the drive there.

jon had his skin with him, of course, and part of him longed to retreat into the sea. the magic of the ocean was different than that which surrounded him now, and perhaps if he threw on his skin and launched himself into the depths, the beholding wouldn’t be able to reach him.

but then, martin wouldn’t be able to reach him, either.

martin was still human. jon was a monster in more ways than one these days, but martin was still human, and if jon went into the sea, martin couldn’t follow.

so he contented himself with seaside outings, dashing into the sea with his skin on like he was a child again, but this time the human onlooker by his side would laugh and join right in. martin loved him in both forms, and he loved martin, and that mattered more than giving in to the ocean’s call any day.

at least when the world got turned upside down, nobody cared what form jon took anymore. nobody cared if he was man or seal or both or something else entirely. nobody cared what kind of monster he was now.

the world had bigger problems to deal with these days.

#tma #tma au #tma fic #tma fanfic #the magnus archives #the magnus archives au #the magnus archives fic #the magnus archives fanfic #jonathan sims #selkie au #personal #my writing

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keep-it-i-resign · 3 years

Text

Fic Writer Asks

tagged by the lovely @vampcoffeegyrl23 I am soooo sorry this has taken over a week! I promise I was just busy away from my computer and using mobile is not the way to go about answering these! 😅

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

6 on AO3 and 6 on ffn.net. I haven't used the ffn.net account in years, i.e 2013 (and therefore my user name isn't even the same) so those 6 stories are different from my AO3 ones. I don't post most of what I write and now that I'm in my mid-20s with a few published papers behind me - I'm much more confident in my ability to write a cohesive and interesting story so expect more posted!

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

17,425 words which isn't bad for only 6 fics with two of those stories having additional chapters coming soon.

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

On AO3? Just 1, which is The Flash and by extension Stargate SG-1 for the crossover I did for Snowells Week this year. Counting ffn.net that's 3 more with Castle, Doctor Who, and Firefly. Over my lifetime of writing fic for myself? I think only 7 more. Stargate SG-1, Stargate Atlantis, Sanctuary, Harry Potter, Star Trek: Voyager, Star Trek: TNG, and Left 4 Dead. Left 4 Dead isn't much of a fanfic but I did use the zombie types as place holders in an original story until I developed my own.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

I'll Be Waiting (The Flash - Caitlin/Harry)

Well... This is Awkward (The Flash - Caitlin/Harry, Frost/Nash, Caitlin/Nash, and Frost/Harry)

Rewind Time (The Flash - Caitlin/Harry)

Through the Gate (The Flash/Stargate SG-1 - Caitlin/Eowells)

Harvest Season (The Flash - Caitlin/Harry)

5. What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

I don't write angst much and I haven't posted many stories yet but of the ones posted I guess "I'll Be Waiting" is the angstiest.

6. What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

"Well...This is Awkward" has a pretty happy ending with everyone alive and together. Or maybe "Twilight of the Gods" because ReverseSnow/ReverseFrost happens and there is hope of bringing everything lost back and balance the universe again. I guess it depends on your definition of what constitutes as a happy ending. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

7. Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you've written?

I've only written one - The Flash/Stargate SG-1 crossover. I don't normally think about crossovers just because the shows I watch are so vastly different they can't really work or they are already in the same universe with the canon crossovers. I'm also not always a fan of reading them because they can get chaotic quick and characterization takes a dive in order to fit characters into other universes/situations. I admire anyone who can write it well though!

As a side note: I did have a thought about a Snowells into the Arkham universe fic just because I have been replaying the Batman Arkham video games which I might give a shot at.

8. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

👀I wrote one smutty story years ago and it's terrible because I was young and naïve. I haven't tried recently but I'm not opposed to giving it a shot now. I have a few ideas on a prompt list I have for Snowells already so it's really a matter of when will I get to it!

9. Do you respond to comments. why or why not?

I do when I can! I like to get feedback from my readers and having an open dialogue of what they liked or disliked is important for me! I want to know what my audience enjoyed and what to improve on! Responding to them also shows them I saw that they said and appreciate what they had to say! 🥰

10. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Surprisingly - no, even on my old and terribly written stuff. I'm perfectly open to criticism but hate? If you don't like it, you don't like it but others might. Why spend the time spreading negativity when the world has enough of it?

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

As far as I know - no.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No but given enough time I could probably translate mine. It would be grammatically atrocious because I rarely translate from English into any of the languages I know. It's normally the other way around! I'd definitely need a Beta who is fluent to correct my mistakes.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No but it's definitely something I'd try! I co-wrote an original story with a few friends of mine years ago in high school and enjoyed it. I like the idea of getting to talk and bounce ideas off of someone who enjoys the same fandoms and character as me! I haven't really done that since I grew apart from one of my friends from high school who I did that with.

14. What's your all time favorite ship?

What kind of question is this? Do people actually have an ultimate ship? Is that even possible? I have ships from several fandoms and sometimes multiple ships within a fandom. Most of the time I have a main ship from a fandom but that doesn't mean I discount any of the other ones that I or others enjoy as well. I'll throw out a few that I still got out and read for in order of what I read most often (either new stuff or re-reads) to what I read occasionally, at least according to my AO3 favorite tags.

Snowells (all variations) - The Flash

Jack O'Neill/Sam Carter - Stargate SG-1

Helen Magnus/Nikola Tesla - Sanctuary

Harry/Hermione - Harry Potter

William Murdoch/Julia Ogden - Murdoch Mysteries

Phil/ Melinda - Agents of SHIELD

Kathryn Janeway/Tom Paris - Star Trek: Voyager

Kate Fleming/Steve Arnott - Line of Duty

I will occasionally go check what kind of fics the fandom writes when I start a show just out of curiosity. Sometimes you can tell if there is fandom hate between ships by doing so and I know to steer clear, especially if I ship a lesser ship/non-canon ship. Also - the number of canon-divergence or rewrites will tell you if the shows writers start being ridiculous *cough* The Flash *cough* and whether it's worth getting attached at all.

15. What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

Hoo boy. I have a drive full of them. Most of which aren't even close to being posted. My biggest one right now is a complete re-write of The Flash dealing with a what if scenario of Earth-1 Tess Morgan being pregnant the night that Thawne kills them both and he chooses to birth the kid rather than let it die with her. It's set a few years earlier (so 18/19 years stuck in the past rather than the original 15 that the show has it) so the kid isn't Jesse but it changes how season 1 plays out and definitely how season 2 plays out when Harry finds out about the kid while dealing with the Jesse/Zoom issue. Plus it's Snowells too and I want to deal with Barry's mistakes and the consequences of them better than the show did since the show just kind of brushes them off? For some reason? I wanted things to have a little more consequence because some of the mistakes made are egregious and then they acted like it never happened which bothers me. It's a beast of a project and I'm - unfortunately- a perfectionist and a completionist. I'm thinking an episode per chapter rewrite but right now it's in bits and pieces and a lot of notes on how episodes would play out differently with an added character and dynamic.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue and scene positioning. I can write out the dialogue for a story quickly with the bare bones of the scene and movements playing out. After that, it takes me ages to expand the scene and fill in the bits between speaking lines because I can see the piece play out in my head and putting that to paper accurately and engagingly without being overwhelming is a multi-layered process.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Some of this is normal, you know, like grammar and spelling. My brain moves faster than I type so words or bit of phrases end up missing and I later have to fix it. I'm also a Southerner who grew up watching a ton of British shows so a lot of the way I phrase things isn't commonly used anywhere. I have to spend a lot of time double checking things like that. I think my biggest one is not knowing how to end stories satisfactorily. I haven't posted many fics because it's hard to post them when you don't know how to wrap everything up.

18. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

It depends on whether it's an established part of a character or story and whether or not I'm comfortable with the language. Like with Sherloque - it's established he'll say something in French and then repeat it in English. I took 3 years of French so I'm comfortable writing it and it fits the character and situation. But take Cisco, we know he speaks Spanish, but it's never really shown in the show. So fics that I've read where he breaks into Spanish can be distracting as we've never seen him do it - even in dire circumstances. I also never took Spanish in school and I only know rudimentary pieces (I took Mandarin and Latin instead), so I'm unlikely to use it in any fic I write unless the circumstances warrant it (say - Cisco is talking to a grandparent or a meta struggling with English).

But again, it depends on the situation, what we know of the character, and how comfortable I am with the language enough to get it correct and in character. Any fic writer who can get the situation and character down while using a secondary language, and not make it distracting deserves applause!

19. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Hit me with a hard one why don't you? 🤣 I think it was Stargate SG-1 or maybe it was Stargate Atlantis. You're asking me to think back over a decade and a half ago to when I started reading and writing fic at the tender age of 7 or 8. I'm fairly certain it was one of those two fandoms and it might've been a crossover. I do remember writing part of it on an old Gateway computer running Windows '98 with a glass monitor that was mine and my sisters. The other half was written on an electric type-writer that I owned because this was before laptops were widely available and affordable.

20. What's your favorite fic you've written?

It's a tie between "Twilight of the Gods" and "I'll Be Waiting". "Twilight of the Gods" because I got to show off a few of my degrees (History and Classics, I couldn't shoehorn in my others but they are science related and that doesn't quite fit that story). "I'll Be Waiting" is a favorite because it's a big middle finger to whoever / collective group wrote The Flash season 7. I'm still pissed off at how the Wells plotline was dealt with and let's not get started on the whole Chillblaine/Kramer/Forces as kids of WA plots (ewwwwwww 🤢). I'd need a whole new post to talk about how tired I am of the WA kids showing up (because screw how that'll effect the timeline, right?) and the reliance on the future to drive what decisions are made (because, again, screw how bad that would be for the timeline - it's not like we have seen how much that effects things before right?) 😒

Phew.....That was longer than I expected, honestly, but a lot of fun!

Tagging whoever wants to talk about their works because you are all wonderful people who should get a chance to share!

#20 questions #writer asks #fandom things #fanfic #Snowells

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words-writ-in-starlight · 4 years

Note

what's DFZ?

DFZ! DFZ! DFZ!

Okay, so, the DFZ series(es?) is kind of a catchall name for a couple of series by Rachel Aaron that take place in the same urban fantasy universe, the DFZ books and the Heartstriker books. Urban cyberfantasy? You could throw a lot of adjectives into that descriptor if you wanted to.

The general premise is that once upon a time Earth had magic. A lot of magic. Absolutely god-creating levels of magic. And then, mysteriously, it all drained away some thousand years ago, leaving humanity to forget all about it while the creatures who needed it to live either withered away completely (spirits, gods, etc) or went into hiding and hibernation (also some spirits, dragons, etc). And then, like a switch being flipped, it all came back at once in 2035, and suddenly humanity had a lot of magic to throw around and no idea what was going on. That was a few decades ago at the start of the Heartstriker books, which are a couple decades before the DFZ books.

(Incidentally, I really like that choice. It would have been very easy to write a novel about humanity getting magic back and running around like chickens with our heads cut off, and don’t get me wrong I would have read and adored that book, but setting things a little later means that magic is just Part Of The Deal and it’s so much goddamn cooler.)

Which brings us to the DFZ proper, also known as the Detroit Free Zone. When magic came back, a lot of shit woke up really fast, chief among them A, dragons, and, B, Spirits of the Land. Like the Lady of the Great Lakes, Algonquin, who was really, really not having it with every city in a hundred mile radius dumping pollutants into her water by the metric ton. So she wiped most of the Great Lakes states off the map, and took over the ruins of Detroit to make the Detroit Free Zone, where the only laws worth mentioning are:

No murder

No dragons

No polluting the water

Anything else is pretty much free game. So you can imagine that the DFZ gets to be a pretty interesting place pretty goddamn fast--the most magical city in the world, where anyone can do anything without fear of the law coming down on them, under the iron hand of a goddess who doesn’t much care for humans.

Anyway, if that sounds cool and you like any of the following, you should actually just trust me and go read these books without bothering with the rest of this post:

Immaculately well-constructed magical worldbuilding--the entire second book of the DFZ trilogy is basically “how to out-litigate a curse and the consequences of doing just that”

Humans Are Special trope, but in the “if you could all just slow down on the innovation we’d all be a lot safer” kind of way, which is a personal favorite

Dragons! Lots and lots of dragons from all over the world! This is an absolutely spectacular series for dragons, despite Algonquin’s best efforts!

Sentient cities! The DFZ takes a while to get moving (magic takes time and big magic takes big time) but once she does, oh boy do I ever love her so goddamn much, get wrekt Algonquin

Magic Is Normal tropes coming out your goddamn ears, mixed with a healthy dose of Technology Is Magic (AIs can project stuff straight into your brain by hooking into your natural magical field and y’all...I’d kill for it...that’s so cool)

Really genuinely likable characters--Julius, Marci, Opal, and Nik are all completely fantastic and I would get drinks with any of them, and also the main romances actually enjoy each others’ company in non-romantic contexts, which is remarkably refreshing

Seers, and the finicky game of making the future jump the way you want it to jump while someone else who can also see the future is trying to make it jump the other way

Doesn’t that sound rad? Yes, it does, I’m telling you that these books are amazing, the first DFZ book is called Minimum Wage Magic, and the first Heartstriker is called Nice Dragons Finish Last, go forth and read. Either series is a great starting point, I actually liked reading the Heartstriker books after the DFZ books because I loved seeing Opal meet Julius, Main Character Boy for the Heartstrikers, as a competent and universally respected adult, and then getting insight into his brain which is just that one gif from Community with the pizza and the fire, all the time.

As per usual, more details under the cut.

So, magic comes back and Algonquin wreaks destruction and the DFZ happens. Smash cut sixty years into the future for the Heartstriker books, starring Julius Heartstriker, the youngest and most regrettably tenderhearted dragon in the massive Heartstriker clan. Julius’ primary problem in life is that he does not enjoy lying, scheming, manipulating, threatening, murdering, or power tripping, which means that his entire family pretty much takes carte blanche to kick him around like a soccer ball. This comes to a head when his mother, Bethesda Heartstriker, puts a curse on him so that he can’t access his draconic form and dumps him unceremoniously into the DFZ, where dragons are executed on sight, with strict orders to find something to impress her, or else die quietly out of the way.

Julius, to his credit, throws himself into trying to become a Real Dragon as best he can, but he’s just so goddamn nice, he goes out and saves lives and makes bargains and enforced democracy instead of unilateral dynastic rule and falls in love with a human (hi Marci) and makes a name for himself as “the dragon you go to when all your other options would kill you or laugh in your face.” It’s absolutely delightful to watch. He’s doing such a good job.

Basically, the Heartstriker books go like this: Julius doesn’t like the way his world works! And fuck you for telling him that he needs to be less kind in order to work in the world! He’s not changing himself, he’s going to change the world instead, and because he’s very, very nice, he’ll even let you live there once he’s done!

Next up, the DFZ books, twenty years later, star Opal Yong-ae, who moved to the DFZ from Korea for reasons that become apparent later but mostly boil down to “freedom.” Since Julius’ first arrival in the DFZ, a lot’s changed--Algonquin is gone, the Spirit of the DFZ is a sovereign entity who has her own motives and desires, and what was once a no-dragon zone is now a neutral territory governed by the Peacemaker, who you might remember as a twenty-four-year-old baby desperately out of his depth and is now a straight up force to be reckoned with, feared and respected around the world. (I’m so proud of my son.)

Opal’s problems are that she’s a mage who hits like a tank when she’s desperate but can’t handle even the most basic tasks, and she’s scrambling to pay off a massive debt to her father in order to prove that she should be allowed to remain in the DFZ. These are both old news. The dead body she finds in an abandoned apartment that she’s been hired to clean out and get ready for renting, on the other hand, that’s a new, kicky, fresh kind of problem, especially once someone starts shooting at her about it.

She joins up with another Cleaner named Nikola Kos, who she mostly knows as “that scary guy in black” and is an absolute tank who is also secretly very soft. Their dynamic is so much fun, very intensely “Small Chaotic Drags Big Exhausted Into Drama” with the added bonus that Nik is a very cool cyborg fighter type. Opal is so determined that it verges on being completely unhinged and I would read 15 books about her. Also, the third book is out, so that brutal cliffhanger at the end of Half Price Gods is a problem for Eight Months Ago Me, rather than Present Day You.

#dfz #dfz series #heartstriker series #julius heartstriker #opal yong-ae #book rec #i love these books!!!!!!!#i love nik i would die for a book about nik's backstory #it would be a very sad book but STILL #there are two (2) fics on ao3 for this entire universe in case you're curious #but i love to talk and i love these books so i could probably be enticed to talk about these books if you were interested #god julius is just 'kindness is a strength not a weakness and if you don't think so all these people i've been kind to'#'are going to punch you in the face to prove it'#but for like...many books #also featuring bob the seer! he's completely bonkers and i love him!#and opal is just 'i am Going To Do That Thing' while nik goes '....that seems like a VERY bad idea!!!!!!'#'opal no'#'OPAL YES'#*long sigh* 'nik also yes'#also!!!!!! opal crashes the gold market in the finest example of litigating a curse to death i've ever seen #and i would love to see that level of thought put into every urban fantasy curse ever thank you so much #this doesn't talk about marci that much but please trust that i also love marci #marci: *sees a homicidal ghost cat* 'it's free companion animal'#that's the spirit of absolute idiocy i like to see in my wizard builds!!!!!!!!#a queue we will keep and our honor someday avenge #patrickdiomedes #asked and answered

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croatian-nt · 5 years

Text

Catch me if I fall

Getting hit in the face was definitely not Tin's favorite part of playing the game. No matter how many times he got blows in the head, it hurt.

Thankfully in his memo of WWDD, or what would Domo do, getting up after a blow in the head was a given.

So he did, with Bruno and Ante checking if he was alright, but Tin barely acknowledged them. Niksi was staring at him, a bit further away, but Tin felt his gaze as a physical touch.

It made him nervous and he pushed flashbacks of the last time he looked at him like that. Now wasn't the time. He nodded to Niksi to signal he was alright, and the game continued.

Tin didn't think about it again until Nikica scored his goal and he ran to hug him, and surprisingly, got to him first, tackling him in the hug.

It was such a natural reaction and they of course, tumbled to the floor, with Niksi laughing. It made Tin join him, and for a split second their eyes met, and they must have made quite a picture.

Two idiots laughing while laying on the grass and locking eyes. And then the rest of the team joined them, and the moment was over.

The game went on and Tin tried not to get distracted till the end. Tin couldn't afford getting distracted, especially not over a simple kiss.

So when the game ended, he pushed away the urge to run to Niksi and celebrate with him, instead he went to Domo and acted like nothing changed. Like there wasn't a gaze of two bright blue eyes burning into his back.

It was much, much later, after a lot of alcohol has been consumed that Tin's urge to meet Nikola's eyes became unberable.

He was beautiful, there was no way around it. With his head thrown back and laughing at something Perišić said, he had some kind of magnetic pull that just made you look at him. It made Tin long for things he couldn't have.

As if he felt his eyes of him Nikola turned his head and locked their eyes, as if daring Tin to approach him. Tin's heart sped up and his tipsy brain tried to catch up with his conflicted feelings that rooted him to the spot.

He could just walk over to him and pretend he was congratulating him on the goal, talk about the game and unsuspiciously slide his arm around his shoulders while walking. It wouldn't look weird to anyone.

But Tin also knew he could slip up and do something people would find weird. He didn't trust himself not to reach for him in his current state. He was still high on adrenaline and while his tolerance improved, it was never a great idea to drink alongside Domo.

So he forced his eyes away from Niksi's and turned, quietly slipping away. He needed to be alone and sober up a bit, and nobody will probably notice he was gone for a while.

He ended up climbing on the roof of a house near the hotel, and since everyone was already asleep, he probably wasn't going to disturb whoever lived there.

And then he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and lighted one up. Tin knew it was a bad habit, but he rarely ever smoked now, but sometimes it was just the fastest way to calm himself down. He closed his eyes and let the silence wash over him, trying to sort out his thoughts.

"Didn't know you smoked," A voice behind him said, jerking Tin from his peace.

It was unexpected and Tin flinched, almost losing his footing and falling of the roof, if it wasn't for a steady arm that grabbed his.

"Easy. It wouldn't do you any good to break a bone right now. We still have one game to play," Niksi said, smirking down at Tin.

It made Tin scramble back so they were at equal footing, where he was obviously taller. It gave him a false feeling of safety, as if the fact that he was towering over Niksi would make him more likely to resist him.

Being so close to him, under his direct gaze, never failed to make Tin into a stuttering mess. He took another drag of his cigarette, and cringed when there was slight tremor in his hand, which Nikola had to see.

"I don't usually, but it fits the moment, I suppose."

Nikola chucked at Tin's statement, inching closer. Tin was aware of how little space was between them, aware of the cold air between their warm bodies and it made him ache to close that distance.

"Fits the moment? I didn't realize such a big win required the need to calm yourself down. Unless, of course, there isn't something else on your mind."

Fucker. He was smirking just slightly, knowing Tin couldn't stop thinking about that kiss after the last game. And they never talked about it after and Tin was too much of a coward to bring it up himself. But hell if he gave Nikola the satisfaction of playong him like the flute.

"I don't know what you are talking about."

"No?", Niksi leaned in softly tracing Tin's jawling with his thumb, "You might want to put out your cigarette."

Tin gulped, electricity flowing through his skin from where Nikola touched him and spreading through his body.

"And why would I do that?"

"Because," Niksi said, taking away his cigarette and taking a drag from it, "if you don't, I might change my mind about kissing you again."

Tin doesn't think he ever put out the cigarette faster once Nikola returned it.

Niksi chuckled, leaning in so they were barely a breath apart.

"You are too easy," He whispered before closing the distance.

Tin melts into the kiss and Nikola taste of nicotine and champagne. Tin curses his idea to go on a rooftop because if they were anywhere else he would pull him in his lap. Nikola tugs at his hair tie and tangles his fingers in Tin's hair.

He knows he should probably be concerned about what Nikola did with his hair tie and how close they are inching towards the edge of the rooftop but he doesn't. For a few moments, he lets himself not think about anything.

But when Nikola pulls away, all of his worries and insecurities come crashing back, so Tin drops his head on Nikola's shoulder, so he doesn't have to face then just yet.

"What's wrong?"

Nikola's voice is gentle and he is playing with Tin's hair, not hurrying him to answer.

"I don't want this to be just another post game kiss you'll forget, that's all."

Nikola's fingers freeze in his hair for a moment, and Tin is sure he should have bitten his tongue before speaking the truth. Especially when Nikola moves away and raises his chin so he can look at him.

"Is that what you think this is? Only a celebration kisd because of the adrenaline?"

Tin grimances, pulling back from Niksi's grasp. He didn't like him avoiding it with a question.

"If it wasn't, then why did you never mention it after?"

Niksi frowns, looks like he will reach out for Tin again, but doesn't.

"You barely looked at me the next day. I thought you regretted it until I saw the way you acted around me today. You weren't angry, you were embarrassed."

Tin felt his cheeks heating up at that again and he cursed his inability to keep a straight face. He buried his face in his hands.

Nikolacput his hands over his and gently pried them away and Tin found himself once again locked up in his impossibly blue gaze.

"It was almost as if you were never kissed by another man before and, almost as a teenager you had no idea what to do."

Nikola was still holding his hands and as he said that, he interviewed them. Tin was trapped, but he wasn't so sure he wanted to run away anymore.

"Probably because I wasn't, and I didn't know wht to do. I still don't," Tin confessed, earning a quick kiss from Nikola.

"Relax. Try not to overthink it, and don't run away tomorrow so we can talk when we are sober, yeah?"

"Yeah."

And this time it was Tin who kissed Nikola, and perhaps leaned in a bit too much bc Nikola had to pull away to steady him again.

"Please try not to fall and die while kissing me."

Tin laughed and quickly kissed him again.

"I'll try. But I see I don't need to worry since you'll catch me if I fall."

Nikola rolled his eyes.

"Don't test it too much, I am not a goalie."

And what more than that could he ask for? Whatever happened tomorrow, both of them could only promise to try, and that would be enough. Enough for a start, and for a middle and end, they'll find a way.

Tin grinned

"I'll keep that in mind," He said and kissed Nikola again.

#croatian nt #nikola vlasic #tin jedvaj

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mythvoiced · 4 years

Text

Character Interview: @enchcntd Connie & Felix

( repost, don’t reblog )

BASICS

NAME: Lee Connie NICKNAME: Con, Con-con, Connifer AGE: 25 SPECIES: Human

PERSONAL

MORALITY: Chaotic Good RELIGION: Agnostic SINS: greed / gluttony / sloth / lust / pride / envy / wrath VIRTUES: chastity / charity / diligence / humility / kindness / patience / justice PRIMARY GOALS IN LIFE: Initially, to just make enough money that he doesn’t ever have to worry about anything in his life again. Initially, his goal was a bit on the... shallow side of things. He wanted a heckton of cash, a big mansion, and five cars, just so he could shove it into his parents’ face, so he could prove to the world and himself that he is who and what he is and owns more than most could make in twelve years. But meeting Devon took him off that slippery slope before he could fully put his entire foot on it. Now, he just wants peace. He wants to be at Devon’s side and make the most of what they have. KNOWN LANGUAGES: Korean (fluent), English (fluent), Spanish (he used to watch way too many telenovelas, he’s picked up a few lines) PHYSICAL BUILD: scrawny / bony / slender / fit / athletic / curvy / herculean / pudgy / average HEIGHT: 6′ because we love one tall boi with baby energy WEIGHT: n/a bc meh SCARS / BIRTHMARKS: He has a few moles here and there, namely on his shoulders, his nape, collarbone, waist, and inner thigh, but no noteworthy scars. As a child, he never got to play outside with the other children, also because there weren’t any other children, since he grew up in a rich neighbourhood where you’d get yelled at for breathing like a commoner. As an information broker, he’s had some close calls, but he’s always been a fast runner and avoided most conflicts. ABILITIES / POWERS: No supernatural abilities/powers available RESTRICTIONS: N/a

FAVORITES

FOOD: His love for Korean food only seemed to grow after he left South Korea and especially after he settled down indefinitely with Devon, but he’s also really, really fond of the spiciest Indian food you can find on the market DRINK: He’s one pristine binch so he loves his white wine, but when it comes to casual non-alcoholic drinking, he really likes sodas and surprisingly, really loves orange juice PIZZA TOPPING: A good ol’ margherita is good for him, with extra cheese please. Or one without cheese, but a heckton of garlic to compensate. COLOR(S): He’s very fond of green tones, but also light blue and auburn MUSIC GENRE: Likes Kpop, but only if he can bop his head to it; Latin music, because he likes to dance to it (he’s no dancer, really, but enjoys himself), and any summer hit currently playing on the radio (no matter the language, really). BOOK GENRE: He really likes to use his brain and gather information with it, and he’s interested in history, but then again he’s a bit of a crackhead, so you can find him reading Spider-Man (he’s especially fond of the Miles Morales ones) comics one moment, the next a biography on Nikola Tesla, enjoying them both equally MOVIE GENRE: He likes action packed things that will keep him at the edge of his seat, but he isn’t too opposed to the occasional romcom (and his fricking telenovelas). He loves sitcoms because they’re perfect to sit in front of and unwind in front of, without having to use too much brain power SEASON: Summer CURSE WORD: All of them SCENTS: Anything that smells like fresh take-out, he’s a foodie and not keeping it a secret

FUN STUFF

BOTTOM OR TOP: Le Bottòm SINGS IN THE SHOWER?: Nah, he gets in, gets wet, gets out, gets dry

Felix under the cut

BASICS

NAME: Arthus ap Bledig Felix NICKNAME: Anything Roman wants to call him AGE: 25 at the time of his death 738 SPECIES: Deceased human; walking dead; revenant

PERSONAL

MORALITY: Chaotic Neutral RELIGION: Atheist SINS: greed / gluttony / sloth / lust / pride / envy / wrath VIRTUES: chastity / charity / diligence / humility / kindness / patience / justice PRIMARY GOALS IN LIFE: To end it, for a very long time. There is no point to his existence KNOWN LANGUAGES: Korean (fluent), English (fluent), Spanish (he used to watch way too many telenovelas, he’s picked up a few lines) PHYSICAL BUILD: scrawny / bony / slender / fit / athletic / curvy / herculean / pudgy / average HEIGHT: 6′ because we love one tall boi with sub energy WEIGHT: n/a bc meh SCARS / BIRTHMARKS: He is missing one nail from his fingers (specifically his left pinky); also if were to run your fingers over his chest, specifically his left peck, you’ll be able to feel a slight bump from a scar, although the scar itself is no longer visible ABILITIES / POWERS: Can travel through time and dimensions through interdimensional riffs; immortality, although to define it more accurately: it’s not that Felix can’t die, he’s already dead, and his body is stuck in the state it was in at the moment of his death, his heart (what’s left of it, anyway, part of it is in Scelus) doesn’t beat, he doesn’t need to breathe (although, he does out of habit), he doesn’t bleed, if you injure him his body/skin will always return to the state it was in before RESTRICTIONS: He can’t open any riffs; he has no control over when he’ll be pulled through one of those riffs or where/when he’ll end up; due to the inchangeability of his body neither his nails nor his hair grow; he cannot see the riffs when they open, he’s only able to vaguely sense he’s being pulled away by suddenly smelling, hearing, or seeing things that don’t belong to the world/space he’s in;

FAVORITES

FOOD: He loves sweet pastries, anything strawberry flavoured, and strawberry and cream DRINK: The stronger the alcoholic drink the better, although it wouldn’t be recommended because his liver hardly works and the alcohol stays in his system longer due to that (his organs do not work, it has to be a conscious choice on his part) PIZZA TOPPING: He doesn’t eat pizza a lot, he prefers sweet things COLOR(S): Dark blue, preferably anything that resembles the night sky; MUSIC GENRE: Orchestra, classical music, or anything with no singing/instrumental BOOK GENRE: Not much of a reader (it took him a while to learn how to read in the first place) MOVIE GENRE: He doesn’t like watching movies SEASON: None CURSE WORD: As many as he can fit into one sentence SCENTS: Anything flowery and sweet, anything that smells alive

FUN STUFF

BOTTOM OR TOP: Le Sùb SINGS IN THE SHOWER?: Nope, not really his thing, he has an existential crisis instead

#enchcntd #the informant;enchcntd #the immortal;enchcntd #did these for reserved muses as well so here are your bottoms #i keep using the same gif icon for felix but what can i say... i just really like it #;queue

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trashglasses · 5 years

Text

Here’s the newest chapter of my FFXV Family AU Some Thing Never Change . I know its been million years since I updated but I really missed writing for it, so I did. Have some Cor being a grandpa to soothe the soul.

“Now Nikolas, we will be back tomorrow to pick you up. Please be good for Pop Pop please. I don't want any phone calls from him saying you were misbehaving. If that happens, you will be in trouble when we get back.” Prompto explained from the passenger seat of the car. “Do you understand?” He asked him.

Nikky nodded and continued to play with his toy. Prompto sighed and rubbed his temples.

“Cor is going to be fine Prom. He has taken care of him before.” Noctis said, looking at the road in front of him.

“I know but dad is way more strict than we are. I don't want Nikky to get upset with him because of his rules. Or even worse, dad could get upset with me for Nikky being a wild child. I'm not prepared.” He said nervously.

“Him and Nikky will be fine. They get along and Cor has a sweet spot for him. That's his baby since the day he was born. You are overthinking this.” Noctis said, sighing softly. “You are thinking so negatively.”

“It's the first time since he was a baby that he's spending an entire day and night with him. Of course I'm nervous. Nikky isn’t used to being around someone like that. Dad might have a hard time.” Prompto said.

“I'll be good daddy! I promise!” Nikky said from his car seat in the back.

Prompto looked back and smiled softly at him. “Thanks buddy. Just be careful. You know Pop Pop is strict. So be careful how you speak to him and keep things clean around the house okay? He's not me and papa. He is a strict man.” Prompto said.

“Okay daddy.” He said, playing with a toy from his backpack.

Prompto sighed and turned back to the front of the car. Noctis grabbed his hand and smiled at him. “It will be fine. Nikky will be just fine with him. Promise.”

Noctis pulled up the small house and parked in the driveway. “Okay. We are here. Don't forget your backpack Nikky.” Noctis said. Nikky unbuckled his seatbelt and grabbed his backpack before opening the door and climbing out.

The front door of the house opened and Cor stood there, arms crossed over his chest. Nikky smiled and ran right into his arms.

“Hi Pop Pop!” Nikky yelled.

“Hi Nikolas. Keep your voice down though. The dogs at the neighbors house will go crazy.” He said, picking him up with a grunt. “Oh, you are getting too big for me to pick up now.”

“Kay Kay.” He said, hugging him around the neck before the older man put him down. Prompto walked up and waved to him, still a little nervous.

“Hi Dad. Thanks for helping us out. How are you?”

“I'm doing good. Are you two gonna stay for breakfast or heading out?” He asked.

“Sorry we can't. We have to head out. Check in at the hotel is at three so we gotta get on the road.” Prompto said. “Thank you so much. I really appreciate you watching him.” He said.

“Not a problem. I don't spend enough time with Nikolas so this is a good chance to spend some good quality time with him.” He said, ruffling Nikolas’ hair. “Say bye to your parents Nikolas. They are leaving.”

“Bye papa! Bye Daddy!” He said, going to hug their legs.

“Volume Nikolas.” Cor reminded.

“Oops. Sorry.” He said. “Bye papa. Bye daddy.” He whispered. Noctis ran his fingers through his son's hair hair and smiled. Prompto got down and hugged him tightly.

“Bye Nikky. See you tomorrow. Remember what I said in the car.” Prompto said before kissing his head and standing up.

Both men headed back to their car; Prompto looking back every couple of moments to look at him.

Nikolas was waving at them, smiling nice and big.

Prompto waved back before climbing in the car with Noctis following suit. They drove off slowly, Nikky still waving to them until they drove down the street.

“Let's go eat breakfast Nikolas.” Cor said, walking in the house. “I make pancakes, eggs, and bacon.”

“Mmmm I love pancakes.” Nikky said as he headed inside, dropping his backpack on the floor.

“Hey hey! Shoes off by the door. Also don't leave your backpack in the floor. Make sure to put it where you can find it later.” Cor said, shutting the door behind him.

“Okay pop pop.” He said, sitting on the floor by the door and pulling his shoes off.

“Put them by the wall so you know where they are.” He said. Nikolas nodded and put his shoes exactly where he said.

“Did daddy take his shoes off by the door when he was my age?” Nikolas asked as he bounced to the kitchen.

“Yeah he did. I don't like shoes on the carpet. It gets dirty.” He said as he made him a plate with a pancake, eggs, and a slice of bacon. He also poured him a glass of orange juice. He set the small plate down at the table alongside his own plate. He put both glasses of juice down as well before sitting down.

Nikolas got up on the chair and smiled brightly. “Thanks Pop Pop!” he said as he put a forkful of eggs in his mouth.

The corners of Cor’s mouth turned up into a smile as he cut a piece of his pancake. “You're welcome Nikolas. Now don’t make a mess of your clothes. I don't want to have to wash them yet.” he said, taking a bite of his food.

“Okay!” he said with a mouth full of food.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full Nikolas. It looks gross.” he added before taking a sip of his juice.

---

After their breakfast was done, Cor went into the kitchen to start and clean up the mess left behind. “Nikolas! Can you please get the cups off the table and bring them to me so I can wash them?” he called out from the sink.

Nikolas was deep into watching whatever it was that he put on the television. It sounded like some sort of superhero cartoon if Cor had to guess.

“Nikolas! Did you hear me?” he called out again.

“I did. But it's the good part of the episode. I can’t leave now! I’ll miss it!” he said, eyes glued to the television. Cor frowned and took his hands out the sink and dried them on a nearby towel before walking over to the tv and turning it off.

“HEY!” he said, turning around to look at his grandpa with a deep frown. “Why did you turn it off? It was the best part!” he whined.

“You have been watching tv for over an hour Nikolas.” he pointed out.

“Daddy lets me watch tv as long as I want.” Nikolas huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I’m not your dad. I am your grandfather and we do things different around here.” he said simply.

Nikolas grabbed the remote off the couch and turned the tv back on. He turned around to watch it again. Cor sighed and rolled his neck to keep from yelling at the kid.

This kid is in for it.

Cor walked over to the tv and quickly unplugged it then took the remote from him. He put it in his pocket and looked over at him.

“This is not fair!” Nikolas said, his eyes starting to well up with tears. He always got what he wanted when he started to cry. “I wanna watch tv.” he said, starting to cry.

“Tears don’t work here. Didn’t work for your dad; won't work for you.” he said, walking back to the kitchen to finish washing dishes. “Now, grab those cups and come help me finish with the dishes. We can figure out something to do after we clean up.” he said.

Nikolas wiped away his tears and looked over at Cor, who was running the hot water. He wasn’t going to win this round so he slowly got up and climbed up on the chair to grab both cups and brought them to Cor.

He looked down at him and smiled. “Thank you.” he said before handing his a wet towel. “Can you wipe the table down for me?”

The child looked at the towel and nodded, going over to the table and climbing on the chair again to wipe it down. Cor turned around and nodded to himself before turning back around to set the now clean cup off to the rack to dry.

---

Cor opened up his patio door and lead Nikolas out to the backyard. The grass was lush and green and there were even flower beds and rock decorations. He tended to put a lot of time into making his backyard nice on the off chance his son would visit more often.

“What are we going to do out here?” Nikolas asked, looking up at Cor.

“Play. Do you kids play outside these days? Or do you just sit inside and watch tv all day?” he asked, walking over to a small shed.

“Sometimes Papa will take me to the fishing hole and let me look at the froggies!” Nikolas said. “And daddy likes to take me to go take pictures with him.” he added.

“Well that's good. I was worried the television was rotting your brain.” He joked, grabbing some of the outdoor toys he had bought for the occasion. He had some lawn games, a couple of foam swords, and even some water toys (that included a frog shaped sprinkler)

“Ooooo you have so many toys Pop Pop. Papa says you don’t like fun but you have to if you have all these toys!” Nikolas said excitedly as he looked around the shed.

“Oh really? Noctis said that?” he asked. Nikolas nodded and grabbed a foam sword first.

“Yeah! He told me that I might be very bored here.”

Cor made a mental note to jam up Noctis when he came back to come get Nikky. He could be a fun guy if he had the chance. Noctis just never was able to see him loosen up since he only saw him on duty. It had been a while since he played around with a kid but he was sure he could have fun with the kid.

How hard could it be?

The kid was still young and he had fought enemies for days on end sometimes so he was sure he would keep up with him.

---

“Pop Pop! Come on! The dragon is going to come and eat us if we don’t leave to the castle!” Nikolas said, poking the man with his foam sword.

Cor was bent over, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. “Do...you ever run out of energy kid?” he asked.

Nikolas grabbed his hand and pulled him to the small fort they had made out of lawn chairs and towels. They had been playing for hours with no end in sight. He wasn’t sure where he was getting all of this energy from and he didn’t seem to see and end in sight.

Was Prom like this? He couldn’t have been��

“Pop Pop! The dragon is coming! Hurry!” he said, pulling his arm to get down behind the fort.

“Okay Nikky, it's getting dark. Why don’t we go inside and get ready for dinner okay?”

“Awwww!” he whined. “Just a little longer?”

Cor sighed softly and sat down in one of the lawn chairs that made the fort.

“Only until the dragon is slayed. Then we go inside for dinner.” he said, yawning a little.

“Okay! But you have to get off the castle! The dragon will see you!” Nikolas said as he hid behind a towel.

Cor sighed deeply and got down onto the grass with him, groan as he did so.

“The dragon is flying around! Let’s get ready to fight it and save the city!” Nikolas said, pulling out his sword and running from behind the fort. Cor sighed and stood up slowly with another groan before slowly following behind him to help him “slay the dragon”.

---

“Dad! Dad we are back! I found the key you leave in the planter so I hope you didn't mind us coming in!” Prompto called out from the door. Noctis walked in behind him and shut the door.

“I thought he would be up already. It’s not like him to sleep in like this.” Noctis added.

“You are right...Nikky! Nikky we are back!” he called out as he walked towards the living room. He heard the tv on and assumed they were just up watching tv and didn't hear them.

Prompto rushed into the room. “Nikky! Dad! We’re ba-”

Cor and Nikolas were dead asleep. Cor was laying on the couch with Nikolas laying on his chest in his pajamas. The one blanket they were sharing was just covering up Nikolas and wasn’t long enough to cover Cor’s feet. There was popcorn all over the floor, accompanied the foam swords and another small fort made from the kitchen chairs and blankets and a board game with all the pieces scattered around on the floor.

The tv was on, but it was just playing the DVD menu of a superhero movie. Cor was snoring loudly, one arm over his eyes and one arm around Nikky. Nikolas was curled up against the back of the couch, face against Cor’s heaving chest.

Noctis found it hard not to laugh at the scene. This was something he didn’t expect to see from Cor. He was known for his strict rules and an even stricter bedtime as Prompto described. This was the opposite of what he was expecting.

“Looks like we didn’t have anything to worry about Prom. I was right. Even Cor can’t say no to Nikky. The kid can break anyone.” he said with a smile.

Prompto looked over at the mess and started to smile. He took a couple pictures of them and put his phone back in his pocket.

“You are right Noct. Nikky really does bring the best out of everyone. Now let's clean up a little. He might have a heart attack if he wakes up and remembers he didn't clean up.” Prompto said, starting to clean up some of the mess.

Bonus:

“So Noctis, heard I didn’t like to have fun. That’s a new one.” Cor said, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at his son-in-law.

Noctis looked up from his lunch a little confused. “Huh?” he asked.

“Poor Nikolas was told he was going to be very bored here because I don’t know how to have any fun.” Cor pointed out.

Noctis’ eye widened as he looked over at Nikolas. Prompto bursted out into laughter and looked over at Noctis.

“I told you he was going to find out! Nikky can’t keep his mouth closed at all.” Prompto said through his laughs.

“Nikky! I told you that you weren’t supposed to say it to him!” he said before looking up at him. “It was joke Cor. Promise! Nikky didn’t know I was joking.”

“Oh no. Don't worry Prince Noctis.” Cor said. Noctis let out a quiet sigh of relief. It seemed like he was getting away with it. “I’ll show you how much fun I can have at your next training session tomorrow with Gladiolus. I suggest you get a good night’s sleep.” he man said simply.

Noctis hung his head a little and sighed, knowing he was definitely getting his butt kicked tomorrow.

#ffxv #final fantasy xv #final fantasy 15 #papa Cor #Grandpa Cor #promptis #prompto argentum #Noctis Lucis Caelum #prompto x noctis #cor leonis #Dad Cor #some things never chage #fanfic #final fantasy xv fan fiction

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homesweetsewer · 6 years

Text

Harmless Part 3 (Donatello x Fem Reader)

Part 3 as promised...2 more to go! I hope everyone is having a great weekend. Tagging @gummiwormsandonedirection as requested. I hope it meets your expectations!

Part 1 is HERE

Part 2 is HERE

Donatello sat at the kitchen table, absentmindedly drumming his fingers on the surface. His plate of pizza sitting forgotten in front of him. Raph and Casey were seated across the table, busy arguing over the latest Knicks game while Mikey stuffed his face with pizza while having a friendly debate with April over whether hand tossed or pan pizza was the superior pie. Donnie barely heard any of it. His eyes kept wandering from his watch to the door of the lair and back again. Leo had been gone for quite some time and it was beginning to really eat at him. With every minute that ticked by, the nervous knot in his stomach wound tighter. His brother was only supposed to check on you and make sure you really were alright and report back his findings. He couldn’t imagine what could possibly be taking so long.

“Hey...”

A gentle hand on his forearm made him jump in surprise. Donnie turned his head to see April looking at him with a concerned expression on her lovely face. Normally, her touch and close proximity would have sent a pleasant shiver straight through him. Right now, however, all he was capable of feeling was a deep concern for you and the uncertain status of your relationship. He blinked at her, “I’m sorry, April...what did you say?”

April bit her lip worriedly. It wasn’t like Donnie to zone out and it especially wasn’t like him to ignore her. “I asked if you were alright. You seem like you’re a million miles away.”

“Oh,” Donnie chuckled but it lacked any real humor. “I’m fine just...uh...thinking about a project I’m working on,” he lied. He didn’t know how to adequately express his fear that he’d somehow drove the person closest to him away.

“Oh,” April smiled, completely oblivious to the turtle’s inner turmoil, and gave his arm a squeeze. “What kind of project?”

“Um,” Donatello wracked his brain, trying to visualize the many half-finished experiments that littered his workbench. Finally, he stuttered out the first thing that came to mind, “It’s a perpetual energy generator based loosely on Nikola Tesla‘s fuel less generator schematics...”

April’s eyes clouded over slightly, the woman obviously having no clue what he was talking about. Still, her smile widened, “Well, it sounds brilliant, just like you...”

“Th-thanks,” Donatello stuttered, his face heated at the compliment but he suddenly felt quite uncomfortable. He couldn’t enjoy April’s company when he very well may be losing you. He carefully extricated himself from April’s grasp and quickly stood from the table causing her to frown. “I’m, uh...I should probably head to the lab.” He fidgeted, “You know, get back to work while I’m feeling inspired...”

“Oh, uh, sure,” April nodded, utterly confused by the terrapin’s suddenly standoffish demeanor. “Need any help? It’s been a while since we worked on anything together.”

“No,” Donatello blurted a bit more forcefully than he intended. He internally cringed at April’s surprised expression but he needed to be alone with his thoughts. In a softer tone he added, “There’s lots of, uh, volatile compounds. It’s probably safer if you didn’t.”

“Oh...okay...” April reluctantly agreed as the turtle turned to take his leave. “Maybe another time then?”

“Yeah...Maybe,” Donnie called back over his shoulder as he practically fled to the solitude of his lab. “Thanks for the pizza!”

“But you didn’t even eat any of it,” April huffed under her breath as the ninja disappeared from sight leaving her completely baffled.

No sooner had Donatello secured the door to the lab behind him, he’d collapsed into his chair and reached for his phone. No missed calls and no new messages from you or Leo. Surely, he thought, if there’d been an issue or had you not been alright, Leo would have let him know. His brother knew how worried he’d been. How could he not be worried when his very best friend in the entire world suddenly decided they wanted nothing to do with him? He couldn’t for the life of him figure out where your relationship had jumped the tracks but he would have given anything to fix it.

Honestly, he hadn’t realized just what a huge part of his life you were until you suddenly weren’t around for him to talk to and confide in. Guilt gnawed at him because he knew that meant he’d taken you for granted. It’s just that...it was so easy to settle in and be comfortable around you that he really hadn’t given it much thought. He hadn’t needed to. The two of you just clicked. You were pleasant and easy to talk to. You enjoyed the same types of music and movies, you both loved to read and often swapped books, you both loved learning new things and, though science and technology were not your strongest subject, you showed a genuine interest and fascination in his work that he was both appreciative for and proud of. When he was with you, he wasn’t a mutant turtle living in the sewers and you weren’t a human girl cavorting with monsters. You were simply two close friends enjoying one another’s company and sharing the joy you found in your common interests.

God, he missed you.

The intensity of his lonesomeness surprised him. Sure, he had his brothers and April...even Casey, but they weren’t a replacement for you. The pair of you had grown incredibly close since that fateful night they’d rescued you from a pair of thugs who’d knocked you unconscious and dragged you into a dark alleyway to do God only knew what with you. It had never dawned on him at the time that those first few tentatively awkward moments between you would blossom into such closeness and camaraderie. Certainly, you cared for his brothers and spent plenty of time, especially, keeping Mikey entertained, but, it wasn’t completely lost on him that you seemed to prefer his company the most. It was that tiny bit of knowledge that sparked a proud satisfaction within him.

He was your favorite, or at least he had been. Now...now he wasn’t sure what had happened between you but he desperately wanted to fix it. He wanted, no, he needed his best friend back. With a heavy sigh that bordered on a sob, Donatello buried his face in his hands and hoped that Leo returned soon. He didn’t know how much more worry and uncertainty he could take.

Donnie wasn’t sure how long he’d remained sitting idly in his lab—it wasn’t like him to remain still when there was so much he could be doing, but his heart just wasn’t in it. Eventually, he became aware that the sound of revelry from the living area had quieted. With a tired groan, he rose and made his way over to peek out of the door. The living room and kitchen areas were devoid of people and most of the lights were off meaning April and Casey had taken their leave and Raph and Mikey had turned in for the night.

Curious, he stepped out and closed the lab door quietly behind himself. He took a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the change in light, blinking behind his glasses as he made his way through the space. He felt as though he was moving on autopilot as his feet directed him to Leonardo’s neat, little corner of the lair. A heavy feeling settled in the pit of his stomach at finding his eldest brother’s gear still gone and his bed empty. He still hadn’t returned. Now Donnie was really starting to become concerned. He backtracked quickly, making a bee line for his own niche, fully prepared to suit up and go find out what was going on for himself. It seemed he wouldn’t have to, however, as Leo’s voice stopped him suddenly in his tracks.

“Donnie, what are you still doing up?”

Donatello spun toward the sound to find his eldest brother sauntering toward him with a curious look on his face. Instead of answering his brother’s question, however, he made a demand of his own, “Where have you been all night? Do you have any idea what time it is?”

“You sound like dad,” Leo chuckled tiredly. He smirked at his younger brother as he passed by, heading to his room. “Gonna send me to the Hashi?”

“I’m serious, Leo...”

The blue clad ninja sighed as he unstrapped his gear and began stowing it away, “Where do you think I’ve been? You’re the one that asked me to go check on her...”

“Yeah, I did,” Donnie frowned, “But you’ve been gone for over three hours! What were you doing?”

“Well,” Leo took his time removing his mask and carefully folded the scrap of cloth before answering. “She invited me to have dinner with her...”

Donatello bristled, “Dinner?!”

Leo nodded, turning to face his younger brother. “Yeah, dinner...Indian takeout. Her parents were out for the night and she really didn’t want to be alone so afterwards we ended up watching a movie until they got back.”

“You two had dinner and watched a movie together?” Donnie felt strangely put out. He’d been practically begging you to come over for over a week to have some dinner with them and watch a movie and you’d blown him completely off but you apparently had no problem sitting down with just his brother to do the same. It hurt and he reluctantly admitted to himself that he was feeling just a little jealous. Okay, maybe more than a little. His eyes widened behind their frames at that realization.

“Yeah,” Leo confirmed. “Look, Donnie, we talked and she’s not mad at you.”

“She’s not?” Donatello may have been the taller of the two of them but he suddenly felt very, very small as his brief burst of anger was smothered by gnawing anxiety. “Then...why is she acting like this?”

“She’s...” Leo tried to search for the right words. “She’s worried for you.”

“Me?” Donnie’s face twisted in confusion. Why on earth would you be worried for him? As far as he was concerned, it was his job to worry for you.

“It’s complicated,” Leonardo shook his head. “Something was brought to her attention and it’s been weighing on her, that’s all. She wasn’t sure if she should bring it up, or how to bring it up for that matter. So, she’s been staying away.”

“What?” The purple ninja’s brow furrowed, fresh worry bubbling in his chest, “What is it? Maybe I can help.”

“The thing about that is,” Leo tried to explain, “the person that can help doesn’t see the problem and, well, that is the problem.”

“What?” Donatello pondered his brother’s words as he pushed his glasses up his snout. “Leo...that doesn’t even make sense.”

“It will,” Leo mumbled and, quickly changing the subject, asked, “Was April here?”

“Yeah,” Donnie nodded. “Why?”

“Was Casey with her?” The blue banded leader asked pensively.

Donatello let out a snort of irritation, “Isn’t he always?”

“Did they leave together?”

Donnie shrugged, “I don’t know. Probably. Things just felt...weird, I guess. I went to the lab and by the time I came out everyone was already gone so I didn’t see. What does this have to do with anything?”

“Nothing...forget I asked.” Leo continued to turn the April/Casey situation over in his mind even as he tried to reassure his brother. It would need to be dealt with, yes, but right now comforting Donatello was his main concern. “Like I said, we talked and she’s not mad at you, alright? So stop worrying about whether or not you did something wrong. You didn’t. Understand?”

Donnie sniffed as he felt wannabe tears burn behind his eyelids. He hadn’t messed things up with you and that had been his biggest fear. He wanted to feel relief but could sense there was a lot Leonardo was leaving unsaid. “Yeah...okay.”

“Good.” Leo clapped his brother on the shoulder. “Because she’s coming over tomorrow night...”

“She is?!” Donatello brightened considerably at that statement. His best friend was coming back. He wasn’t sure what Leo had said or done to convince you to return but he was willing to forgive him the evening he’d spent with you in exchange for whatever magic he’d managed to work while he was there. He’d certainly not been getting anywhere with all his calls and texts. Still, he found himself feeling the slightest bit apprehensive. After all, you had run out on him the last time. “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” Leonardo assured. “I made her promise. So no more moping, okay?”

Donnie couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face. “Sure, Leo.”

Though relieved to see his brother in better spirits, Leo couldn’t help but think they weren’t out of the woods just yet. There was still Casey and April to deal with. He wanted to say more but found himself biting back a yawn instead. “I gotta turn in...I’m wiped. You should probably get some sleep, too.”

“Yeah,” Donatello nodded, suddenly realizing how tired he truly was. He rarely slept much as it was, his inventions and experiments always keeping him up till an ungodly hour. Fretting over you, however, meant he’d been sleeping even less than normal. “You’re probably right. Goodnight, Leo, and...thanks.”

“Sure thing, Donnie.” Leo smiled at his brother but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

Donatello was too elated to notice.

To be continued...

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #donatello x reader #april o’neil #casey jones #tmnt donatello #tmnt donnie #tmnt leonardo #tmnt leo #tmnt raphael #tmnt raph #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt mikey #fanfiction #fanfic #tmnt fanfic #tmnt fanfiction

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lamujerarana · 6 years

Text

The Richards family is just WILD, let me tell you. There’s:

Reed’s father, Nathaniel Richards, an immortal time traveler who abandoned Reed when Reed was about 13 so that he could run off with Howard Stark as part of the Brotherhood of the Shield and accidentally ended up becoming immortal in an explosion caused by Nikola Tesla. This accident also made it so that every Nathaniel in the multiverse had to hunt down and kill every other Nathaniel until only one was left. 616 Nathaniel won by asking his teenage son (Reed, not Kristoff) to help him murder the last surviving AU Nathaniel. He later wound up on an alternate, post-apocalyptic Earth that he saved and then ruled over, where he also happened to become the direct ancestor of Kang the Conqueror. He once abducted Reed’s son Franklin and took him to Elsewhen to be raised by the Warlord Kargul, and only returned him to Reed and Sue when he was an adult. Is just generally a devious, “ends justify the means” kind of person.

Reed’s mother, Evelyn Richards, a genius scientist who died when he was 7, probably the most normal one of the bunch.

Kristoff Vernard, Nathaniel’s son and Reed’s half-brother, who is also the adopted son of Victor Von Doom, Reed’s archnemesis, and who will one day be the dictator of Latveria. He had Doom’s personality and memories nonconsenually downloaded into his brain by Doombots who were following Doom’s orders in the event of his death. He has also tried to murder Reed a lot.

Huntara, aka Tara Richards, aka Nathaniel’s daughter and Reed’s half-sister, a Guardian of the Time Stream who was raised by the Warlord Kargul in Elsewhen alongside her kidnapped nephew Franklin, once joined the Frightful Four and stabbed Reed in the chest, which is the only interaction Reed’s ever had with her. She joined Fantastic Force to keep an eye on her nephew when he was Psi-Lord. Just generally a badass warrior lady who would literally murder her family to keep the timestream safe.

Reed Richards, Nathaniel’s son, the smartest man on Earth, and also a founding member of the Fantastic Four. Canon IQ of 370. Also very stretchy. In his time with the FF, he has defeated (and outsmarted) some of the most powerful beings in the universe, which includes Galactus and Victor Von Doom.

Susan Richards, Reed’s wife, one of the most powerful superheroes in the Marvel Universe, a founding member of the FF, and the Queen of Old Atlantis. Can beat the Avengers and also Victor Von Doom and all of his armies with both hands tied behind her back. Her forcefields can pierce even the armor of a Celestial.

Reed’s son Franklin Richards, one of—if not THE—most powerful mutants/reality warpers in existence. He is powerful enough to create entire universes on a whim—and keeps one of them in his closet so he can play in it. Almost wiped out all life in the solar system when he was less than two years old. Agatha Harkness was his nanny. Defeated Mephisto when he was four. Was also a member of the Power Pack at 4 as Tattletale. He, like his grandfather, is immortal, will outlive the universe, and Galactus will one day be HIS herald. Has beaten Celestials in a fight, and was once told by a Celestial that he is the culmination of all human existence and literally why the Celestials made humans in the first place.

Reed’s daughter Valeria Richards, one of the two smartest people in the Marvel Universe. Smarter than Reed by the time she was three. Likes to concoct plans for world domination in her spare time. Sue was initially pregnant with Val in the 1980s, but Val died and her soul was shunted off into an alternate reality by Franklin, where Val was born as the daughter of Sue and Victor. She re-entered her real parents’ lives as a teenager named Valeria Von Doom, but Franklin later used his powers to make Sue pregnant with Val again, and Sue gave birth successfully this time thanks to Doom, who delivered Val and also decided to make himself her godfather.

Nathaniel’s descendant Nathaniel Richards, more commonly known as Kang the Conqueror, who is a major supervillain in 616.

#no family is more badass than this one #fantastic four #reed richards #franklin richards #valeria richards #nathaniel richards #tara richards #kristoff vernard #kang the conqueror #susan storm #marvel #comics

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haberdashing · 4 years

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and if that was me, then who am i?

Stranger Martin AU. A young Martin runs away to the Circus.

on AO3

Martin Blackwood was nine years old, and his mother’s health was getting worse by the day, and his father was gone never to return, and his world was crumbling around him. Things he’d taken for granted, responsibilities that he’d figured the adults around him would attend to for him for years to come if not for the rest of his life, were suddenly falling on his shoulders, left undone if he didn’t step up to the plate. He wasn’t working, as it wasn’t exactly an option at his age, but he did just about everything else he could to keep the house up and running. Even then, it seemed like it was never enough, like the perpetual frown on his mother’s face grew deeper by the day.

For all he did, though, Martin was still nine years old, still just a child, still prone to youthful flights of fancy. Perhaps it was little surprise that he spent every minute he wasn’t busy with schoolwork or housework with his nose stuck in a book, desperately longing to escape his reality by delving into another, at least for a little while.

Martin knew well enough, when news got around that a circus was coming to town, that he wouldn’t be able to go. There was too much to do at home, too little money to spare for such luxuries. He still asked his mother, though, despite knowing her answer before he voiced the question. He did want to go, after all, did want to enjoy himself in an evening of pure escapism, and this way it was her word forbidding it, not just simple logic that he could try to weasel his way out of. And it burned, knowing that all the other children would doubtlessly be talking nonstop for weeks about something he would never see, would never be a part of.

As the circus’ performance neared, Martin yearned to find some way to attend the circus, despite all logic, despite his mother’s refusal, despite everything... and something occurred to him.

He’d read more than one story involving children who, when stuck in a living situation they couldn’t tolerate anymore, ran off to join the circus. And technically, his mother had told him not to attend the circus, not to not join it.

It wasn’t fair to his mother, of course, but she seemed unhappy enough regardless, and Martin could swear just the sight of his face made her frown all the greater for some reason, so maybe she’d be better off without him. And then he could start a new life with the circus, one less mundane and brutal than the one he had to face on a daily basis. A win-win situation.

Three days before the circus was set to open, Martin grabbed a handful of his dearest belongings, shoved them into a bag, and sneaked into the circus grounds with them in hand, a mix of anxiety and sheer desperation pushing him onward, fueling every step he took deeper into the heart of the circus.

Opening a random door exposed Martin unexpectedly to a view of the stage, albeit a skewed one, far from the sort of angle an audience would normally get. Even though the circus wasn’t open for business yet, a performance of some sort--a rehearsal, perhaps?--was going on just the same, and Martin was lucky enough to be its only audience member.

Colors and lights and music and movement intermingled until it was hard to say where one part of the action ended and another began. It was a dizzying, dazzling, overwhelming performance, and it was impossible and it was illogical and it was beautiful, and as Martin looked on he knew that he’d made the right move, that somewhere this wonderful must be where he was meant to be.

Martin let out a soft gasp at one point that caught him especially off-guard--something to do with knives, or a tightrope, or maybe both, it all blended together into one strange jumbled blur in his brain--and seconds after, a cold hand pressed against his shoulder.

“Here for a sneak preview?”

Martin turned around. The outlandish and blindingly colorful outfit of the man in front of him marked him as a member of the circus troupe, though Martin couldn’t remember if he’d seen the man before, either when making his way through the circus or when watching the stage.

Did... did he think Martin was just there to get out of paying? Or out of impatience, too eager to see a performance that was just days away anyhow? Because that wasn’t right at all, and he didn’t want that to be the first impression any of the circus members got of him.

“No, no, not like that--I mean, I watched some, I guess, and it was great and all, but--I came here because I want to join you.”

The man raised an eyebrow. “You want to join the Circus?”

Martin nodded, desperately, trying to ignore how his hands were shaking, how his vision was blurring with half-stifled tears, how what this strange man decided in the next minute or two might change the course of Martin’s life forever. “I do. I want to be a part of- of all of this. I did before I saw it in action, but even more now. It’s- it’s wonderful, and I want to help make it happen again.”

“Hmm.” The man tapped his fingers against the nearby wall, and Martin flinched a little as the man’s arm drew awkwardly close to him in the process. “That’s a new one.”

Martin hadn’t thought it would be a “new one.” This happened all the time in stories, didn’t it? Were the stories all lies, then?

“Tell you what, how about we go see Nikola.” The words suggested that there was a question involved, that Martin was being given a choice, but between the circus member’s flat tone of voice and the way his fingers curled around Martin’s wrist, Martin was left very sure that he was going to see this Nikola whether he wanted to or not. “Rehearsal’s wrapping up, so she should be free soon, and if anyone’s going to decide if you can stay with us it’s her.”

“A-alright. Sure.” Maybe the choice being offered was a false one, but Martin wanted to make it clear that he was willing to go along with it all, that he wasn’t going to put up a fuss or disobey at the first sign of trouble.

The walk between where Martin had been spying on the stage and where Nikola stood in front of a crowd of circus performers wasn’t long, but it was dizzying just the same. It wasn’t quite like the performance, but just walking through the circus was enough to fill Martin’s head with colors and lights and sounds the likes of which he had never imagined, let alone experienced, before that night.

Martin wasn’t sure whether he’d know which of the people around him were “Nikola” at first, but he figured it out pretty fast. Most of the circus performers seemed normal enough, at least by circus performer standards; sure, they were all strangers, and something about those surrounding him gave Martin a pit in his stomach, but they could easily have been pulled out of one of the storybooks Martin enjoyed so much, the sort of stock characters one would expect to see around a circus. Nikola, on the other hand... well.

She wasn’t actually a mannequin, was she?

No, of course not, that didn’t make sense. Living mannequins were only a thing in stories, and Martin had already learned that stories couldn’t be trusted as guides to reality that easily. It had to be some sort of elaborate make-up that made her look more doll than human. Though why Nikola then had clown make-up over the mannequin make-up was a little confusing... it seemed like one or the other would make more sense than combining the two... but it wasn’t his call to make, of course.

Besides, Martin had already gathered that making sense wasn’t the be-all and end-all here, and that was part of the attraction. Staying home and caring for his ill mother would make sense, but that wasn’t the life Martin wanted to live. The circus promised him so much more.

“Nikola?”

Without warning, the man that had led Martin to Nikola gripped Martin’s wrist hard and used it to hold him up.

“Hey!” Martin did his best to wriggle his way out of the circus member’s grip, but to no avail.

“I found this boy intruding on our property, watching the rehearsal. He says he wants to join the Circus.”

“Oh? How fascinating!” Nikola’s voice was high and energetic, and the bright red lips drawn onto her face didn’t move when she spoke. “Come here, boy.”

The grip on Martin’s wrist loosened as abruptly as it had tightened, and Martin half-walked half-stumbled over to Nikola, shaking out his hand to try and reduce the ache lingering in his wrist from where he’d been held.

“Let me get a closer look...” Nikola’s hand shot out and cupped Martin’s chin, tilting his face so that it was staring up at hers, and her hand felt cold and plastic and lifeless and the feeling of it pressed against his chin made the hairs on Martin’s back stand up straight.

“Do you have any special talents, boy?”

“Um... not really, honestly, but-” Martin could feel his face growing hot. “But I’m a quick learner, and I can do a lot when I put my mind to it, so I’m sure I can help you out somehow!”

“Oh, that’s fine, I’m sure we can find a place for you somewhere.” Nikola withdrew her hand, though Martin still looked up at her, hoping to see some sign in her facial expression that’d give away whether she’d allow him to stay. (No such luck, unfortunately, as her face was utterly still, acting less like make-up over a regular face and more like paint atop a doll.) “I’m Nikola, by the way. I run the Circus these days.”

Martin considered saying that he’d already gathered as much, but decided to stay silent instead.

“And who might you be?”

“I’m...”

Martin hesitated, considering his options. If he just gave his real name out, would they report him to the authorities, send him back to his mother? Even if they didn’t, he was hoping to start a new life here, and did he really want that life to be tied to the same name as his old one? If he was going to reinvent himself, why not go all the way?

If he wasn’t Martin, though, who was he?

Martin’s mind wandered back to all the books he’d read over the years, remembered an old, beaten-up library book about mythology that he’d come back to time and time again, and settled on an answer.

“...Loki. I’m Loki.”

“Wonderful, wonderful! It is a pleasure to meet you, dear Loki!”

He’d realized that he was being tested, before, but hadn’t realized that being asked for his name was part of the test until looking around and seeing the broad smiles on the faces of all the circus performers.

When was the last time he’d seen a sea of smiles like that?

When was the last time he’d seen even a single smile like that, wide and genuine and mirthful?

“I think you’ll fit in just fine here, Loki. Welcome to the Circus!”

Nikola extended her hand, and he took it, and her hand was cold and inhuman but he was surrounded by smiling faces and unnatural beauty and if a cold handshake was the price he had to pay to fit in here, that was a price well worth paying.

Loki looked out at the crowd and gave a smile of his own, weak but passionate.

He’d found a place in the world, now, and he was never looking back.

#martin blackwood #tma #tma au #tma fic #tma fanfic #the magnus archives #the magnus archives au #the magnus archives fic #the magnus archives fanfic #personal #my writing

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payment-providers · 5 years

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New Post has been published on Payment-Providers.com

New Post has been published on https://payment-providers.com/the-big-bucks-behind-sleep-or-lack-thereof/

The Big Bucks Behind Sleep (Or Lack Thereof)

The benefits of a good night’s sleep can’t be overstated – nor the negative consequences of not getting one. The average human being needs seven to nine hours per night of sleep, and while there is no medical benefit to sleeping more than that average, there are all kinds of risks associated with getting less.

The first one is weight gain (and all its associated health risks like diabetes, heart disease and cancer), because lack of sleep stimulates the production of hormones that increase appetite and limits the production of the hormones that make a person feel full. Which leads to the second (unsurprising) consequence: Given that lack of sleep makes one insatiably hungry, being tired also makes people cranky and depressed.

Yes, science has discovered that waking up on the wrong side of the bed is actually a medical diagnosis almost always brought on by the same root cause: lack of sleep.

The third problem is still under investigation, but is quite concerning. According to NIH studies, those who report poor sleep in middle age often experience symptoms of dementia or Alzheimer’s later in life. Sleep, it seems, plays a critical role in clearing the toxins associated with declines in brain function.

So in short, sleep could make you thin, make you pleasant to be around and, in the long run, possibly protect your brain from degrading. Sounds like it should sell itself – particularly considering that sleep is one of life’s few pleasures that is absolutely free and can be done without a partner or any special training.

But somehow, we are a nation of chronically under-rested people. According to the most recent available research on sleep, about one-third of Americans report routinely getting less than the recommended seven to nine hours a night, while another third report they “sometimes” don’t get enough sleep.

But luckily, where there is a problem, there is typically an innovative entrepreneur selling a solution – and in the case of sleep, there are a lot of solutions out there. According to McKinsey, if you take the approximate value of all the sleep swag on the market as of 2018 –think luxury pajamas, high-end bed linens, cuddling robots, DTC mattresses and odd gadgets – it generates somewhere between $30 billion and $45 billion annually in revenue worldwide. The mattress market alone is worth a whopping $15 billion. Throw in the amount spent on pharmaceutical sleep aids worldwide each year, and “big nap” as an industry will be worth at least $76.7 billion globally by 2020.

Consumers are clearly willing to invest in getting some much-needed rest – and if some of the firms we’ve covered in the last few years are any indication, they are willing to experiment with some out-of-the-box ideas. There’s the Ostrich Pillow, which allows the sleeper to tuck his head into a soft, pillowy box to make it easier to sleep on a desk or other surface. Or there’s the Bearaby, which could be mistaken for a blanket knitted by a grandmother but for the fact that it weighs 20 pounds and costs $250-$280.

If that is more than you want to spend on a pressurized blanket experience, there is the Hatch Sleep Pod, which costs only $100. It works on the same principle as a weighted blanket – applying uniform pressure across the body to reduce stress – but instead of using weights to create the effect, the pod wraps the sleeper tightly in what can only be described as a swaddle.

“It’s designed to feel like a hug,” Founder Matt Mundt explained to PYMNTS.

There is also the slightly different variation of the Sleep Pod – a much more literal one, offered by HOHM. The startup offers napping spaces on-demand in the form of a 43.5-square-foot portable pod that comes equipped with a twin bed and charging station. The pods set up shop in places where the nap-needing tend to gather – university campuses and office spaces being their two main sweet spots – and offer the chance to book a 20-minute to two-hour nap online or on mobile with a few clicks or taps. Once a pod is paid for, the customer checks in with the pod’s attendant, who unlocks it and lets the customer in for their nap.

“I think there’s definitely a demand and interest for a product like this,” the firm’s Founder and CEO Nikolas Woods told PYMNTS. “Wherever people need sleep, we want to be there.”

In the future, he noted, they will be looking to expand their services to airports and music festivals.

As it turns out, apps aren’t only useful for ordering up weighted blankets or time in a sleep pod. The team at Sleepio believes their anti-insomnia app – which comes with a built-in cartoon therapist – is just the tool Americans need to get to bed on time and sleep the right number of hours.

This week, the app got a major upvote of confidence. According to reports from The New York Times, CVS Health is encouraging employers to cover the costs for their workers to use the app. CVS recently included Sleepio, along with about a dozen or so other healthcare apps, as benefits whose downloads employers can cover as part of their insurance policies as easily as they can cover prescription drugs.

In general, CVS is part of a nascent push to bring digital therapeutics and telemedicine more into the mainstream.

“We are at this pivotal moment,” Lee Ritterband, a psychiatry professor at the University of Virginia School of Medicine, noted on the emergence of various digital therapy apps. “For years, these have been bubbling under the surface.”

So far, only a few employers have started offering Sleepio, though CVS expects more to sign on this fall. It was chosen, according to Dr. Troyen A. Brennan, CVS Health’s chief medical officer, because it came backed by rigorous published studies.

“It’s important for us as a pharmacy benefit management company, as a big retail pharmacy, to endorse digital therapeutics when they work as good as or better than medications one can take by mouth,” Dr. Brennan said. “We can give the stamp of approval from having looked at the scientific information.”

The app functions by turning sleep into something of a gamified experience – the person seeking sleep works with a cartoon therapist/chatbot with a Scottish accent and an affable but firm demeanor. The user and the advanced bot work through a series of six weekly online sessions aimed at healing “broken sleep,” according to Sleepio.

“It feels a lot more like play than work,” Lisa Kelly-Croswell, the chief human resources officer at Boston Medical Center, noted of the program. Boston Med has offered Sleepio since 2016.

But does it really work? The science is a bit more mixed than Dr. Brennan let on. In several randomized studies that assigned some volunteers to use Sleepio and others to use a different treatment, the Sleepio users generally performed better in terms of how long it took them to fall asleep and how long they stayed asleep throughout the night. But in terms of net time spent asleep, the two groups didn’t have very different outcomes.

Plus, the program seems to have some issues with keeping customers engaged. Boston Medical, for example, has had about 3,000 people start the program since it became available in 2016, but have only had about 350 finish it. And that 89 percent attrition rate doesn’t seem to be a problem that is wholly unique to medical workers in Boston drinking too much Dunkin’ coffee. One large randomized trial showed that only 18 percent of Sleepio users completed the insomnia treatment. Another showed that more than half of people who downloaded the app failed to engage with it at all.

In some sense, Sleepio has the same problem as every other solution: It can only work if one uses it. The weighted blanket won’t help if you kick it off, and the luxury pajamas won’t work if they never come out of their box.

But lying under a weighted blanket is not a lot of work (unless one tries to move), nor is slipping on a set of luxury pajamas or checking into a campus sleep pod. Sleepio’s user retention issues might indicate that its course of study can succeed, but that it might be a little too much work for someone who is already tired.

Plus, given the sheer volume of experts who point out that smartphones are one of the main factors contributing to Americans not getting enough sleep, one has to wonder if a phone app is really the right approach when it comes to an insomnia cure.

And honestly, we can’t help but wonder how many of the workers who downloaded Sleepio tried to use the app, opened up their phone to start their session with the cartoon sleep therapist and then got distracted by shopping on Amazon, checking in with social media, binge-watching something on Netflix or talking to a co-worker on Slack. For some consumers, a sleep app is clearly an effective solution – but for others, we imagine, it is sort of like hosting a Weight Watchers meeting in a bakery, in that it’s just not the right venue to encourage willpower or discipline.

For those customers, it might be better to offer lower-tech solutions.

Like a doll bed for their phone – which, of course, they keep in a room other than the one their actual bed is in.

——————————–

Latest Insights:

Our data and analytics team has developed a number of creative methodologies and frameworks that measure and benchmark the innovation that’s reshaping the payments and commerce ecosystem. The September 2019 AML/KYC Tracker Report provides an in-depth examination of current efforts to stop money laundering, fight fraud and improve customer identity authentication in the financial services space.

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randomly-random-jen · 5 years

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Uncalled For Actions (15/?)

A Girl Genius fanfic

When Gilgamesh Holzfäller is fourteen, he’s taken on as an apprentice to Baron Wulfenbach as part of a program to produce the next generation of leaders in the Empire–a group that will hopefully get along (although most see this as wishful thinking on the Baron’s part)._ He’s learned a lot over the months of shadowing the Baron, but nothing has prepared him for his most challenging assignment: confronting the skeletons in his closet.

[Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | Part 16 ]

Part 15

Gil wedged himself between a sturdy storage rack and the barrel and waited while Theo stood in the shadows next to the still-open door. As soon as the guards appeared, Gil kicked the barrel as hard as he could, sending it tumbling into the unsuspecting men.

"Go," he yelled, dashing forward and hurdling both the guards and barrel. Theo was right behind him as they sprinted down the hall, sliding around the corner, only slowing when they came to a set of stairs.

"Which way?" Theo asked, glancing up than down.

Gil patted his pockets looking for his directions before remembering Celeste crumpled them. "I don't know--do you have a map or something?"

"No, I was following Zulenna."

Gil groaned--figured.

Behind them, footsteps grew closer, setting Gil into full flight mode." Down is quicker," he finally said before taking the stairs two or three at a time, leaping from the landing to the floor below, but the doors into the hall beyond were locked.

The two just shrugged and continued down the twisting stairs until the light from above disappeared. They pressed against the cold stone and waited for chasing footsteps, but it was quiet.

"I think we lost them," Theo whispered.

"I think we lost us," Gil responded.

"Do you have a match or something?"

"No."

Gil closed his eyes and rested his head against the wall, listening to their breathing even out. They'd have to risk going back up--no telling where the guards would be.

Theo tugged his sleeve repeatedly. Was he always this easily excited? Gil realized he didn't really know Theo or any of the other kids very well--he refused to let himself get close.

"Gil, look," Theo hissed in his ear.

Forcing his tired eyes open, he found the staircase softly glowing. A smile spread across his face. "Anevka's fungus. I think I know where we are."

Gil guided Theo down the stairs and to the left. He had no idea if the party was anywhere near here, but at least, he could maybe find his way back before they got caught.

A moment later, they stepped into the familiar atrium with the creepy murals.

"Wow," Theo said, taking in the room filled with the glow of the stars and moon above.

Gil ignored him, pacing a corner of the room as his brain sifted through all the info he had about the party which, admittedly, was little since he hadn't bothered to fully read that scrap of paper. "Where would they host a clandestine party?" he wondered out loud.

"I don't know," Theo answered.

"Where do they have them on Castle Wulfenbach?"

Gil was kind of flattered the kid thought him popular enough to be invited to parties. But just because he was never invited didn't mean he didn't know about them. They were usually up or down--dead spaces in the shop where mechanical systems ran between sections.

"I remember reading that Sturmhalten was built over some geothermal vents that power most of the castle and the town."

"So?"

"Well, yesterday I noticed heating vents in my room kind of like the ones we have on Castle Wulfenbach which means they have to connect to the thermal vents beneath the castle somewhere.”

Theo cocked his head to the side, one eyebrow raised. "Again, I say, 'so?'"

"So-" Gil began examining the exterior of the walls in the room. "-I bet there's a mechanical substation somewhere that forces the heat where it needs to go. It'll be loud and probably steamy-"

"A perfect place to hide a party," Theo finished.

"Exactly," Gil said, snapping his fingers as he found what he was looking for--a grate carved into the stone wall in the corner. They peered inside but couldn't see much past the grate. "We need a candle," Gil said, looking around.

Theo clapped loudly, the sound echoing in the large space. "I have an idea," he shouted then darted off before Gil could stop him.

Not my problem if he gets caught, he told himself, but he wasn’t very convinced. He was about to go check on him when Theo came bounding back into the room, his waistcoat bundled in his arms.

Carefully, he opened the fabric revealing clumps of fungus. "I think I killed them," he said, shoulders slumping.

Gil took the fungus and placed it in two small saucers he found in a curio. "No, I think it'll be okay--Anevka said they'll come back on when they're not spooked anymore."

They waited a moment, Theo gnawing his lower lip until slowly the plants began to glow again. "See?" He squeezed Theo's shoulder. "Good thinking." Theo grinned up at him, filling Gil with an overwhelming pride he found a little confusing if satisfying.

They took the dishes of fungus over to the vent and peered inside, seeing only slightly farther than before.

"We can't fit in there," Theo said as he tugged on the solidly attached grate.

"No, but we can hopefully get an idea which way the ductwork goes." Gil moved the fungus back and forth but couldn't get enough light down the vent to see any turns.

"Ooh," Theo said suddenly then plucked a small amount of fungus from his dish and rolled it into a ball before flicking it into the vent. It rolled a few meters then sat there for a full minute until a glow built from within it, lighting the end of the tunnel which seemed to turn left.

"You're really good at this adventuring, you know?"

Theo's smile grew even wider. "Thanks, Gil--I'm having a lot of fun."

Gil couldn't help but smile back at Theo's contagious enthusiasm.

"So if we're not going in the vent, what now?"

"Now we figure out where the vents go."

They exited the atrium and found an unlocked room in the direction the vent had turned. It took only a moment to find the grate showing the duct beyond extending left and right. Twenty minutes later, they tracked the ventilation to another storage room--this one full of empty crates--where it took a turn down.

"Guess the answer is down."

Theo didn't question as they left the storage room and found a set of stairs behind a wrought iron gate that was conveniently unlocked. The stairs led to a narrow hall carved into the bedrock, water dripping eerily from the arched ceiling less than a half meter above Gil's head.

The farther they got, the less quiet the tomb-like space and the more damp. Gil slipped off his Wulfenbach sigil and undid the buttons of his shirt while Theo fumbled with his sleeves until Gil took his saucer of fungus so he could roll them up.

The hissing and whooshing of the ventilation system drowned out all other sounds--it seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once, but soon that was replaced by the chaotic beats of some kind of tribal drum.

They hurried to the end of the hall and squeezed through a partially open gate into a huge cavern filled with shouting kids and lots and lots of steam. The drums crescendoed then were joined by other instruments--a harpsichord and horns and things Gil couldn't identify combining in a discordant racket that was surprisingly catchy.

"Is this... music?" Theo asked, head bopping to the beat.

"I think so."

Theo turned that bright, earnest smile at Gil again. "I think I like it." Then ran off into the crowd.

Gil set his fungus on the edge of a blinking monitor then peeled off his jacket and waistcoat, rolling his sleeves up like Theo. He watched the throngs of party-goers who seemed to be almost every apprentice, some of the summit support staff, Sturmvoraus relatives, and even castle servants. They appeared and disappeared amongst the steam--that along with the pounding music gave everything a hazy, surreal feeling that appealed to Gil.

Suddenly, the air crackled with electricity as purple fingers of lightning stretched overhead to the amazed “oohs” and startled cries of the partiers. Gil followed the display back to the epicenter--a strange coiled contraption--just as an older gentleman with a mustache snapped a large leather case shut.

"Thank you so much, Nikola," Anveka said, clapping her hands. "It's absolutely perfect."

The man bowed and tipped an imaginary hat. "My pleasure, Princess. If it gives you any more trouble let me know before I set back to Paris."

"Oh, Gil!" she shouted, tugging him closer to the coils as the man passed with another slight bow of the head. "Isn't it amazing?"

"What is it?" He could already feel the Spark lighting in his chest as he examined the machine.

"A frequency alternating-current resonant transformer."

"What's it for?" As he reached for it, the purple light arced from the coils to his fingers, making him jump, but he experienced none of the expected electrical shock, only a slight tingle.

Anevka smiled at his obvious wonder and delight as the current hopped from finger to finger. "Does it need to be anything more than this?" she asked, twirling with her arms over her head to encompass the spectacular show of lightning flickering through the fog down to her fingers.

"I guess not," he said, matching her smile.

She dropped her hands and returned to his side. "I'm glad you made it, Gil," she said softly, ducking her head. "I was afraid you wouldn't come after how horribly I treated you at dinner last night."

At least she admits it. "So we're still friends?" he asked tentatively, not sure he could allow himself to trust her but desperately wanting to.

"If you'll have me." He swore she blushed despite the dim lighting. "I mean as a friend."

He still didn't really trust her, but he also didn't need more active enemies so he nodded. "On one condition."

Her smile faded slightly. "Oh?"

“You tell me how I can get my hands on one of these," he said, pointing at the coil until the tendrils extended to his fingertip again.

Anevka giggled--an absolutely splendid sound on all accounts. "You'll have to talk to Nikola. Father hired him from Paris to upgrade the electrical wiring in the castle while they were tearing things up for the new heating system. When he heard about the party, he said he had something that would steal the show."

She looked up at the lightning that seemed to almost move in time to the music. "It's genius, isn't it?"

"Brilliant; I want to know how it works!"

"Of course you do." She slipped her hand into the crook of his arm. "I'll get you his card, but he's returning to Paris soon--something about a big job offer in the Americas."

Gil wanted nothing more than to tear the coiled device apart, but he allowed Anevka to drag him away instead as she chattered about the party. He turned down the glass of slightly glowing blue liquid that surely contained more alcohol than safe to ingest at one time but allowed the ambiance and music to overtake him.

It seemed like almost everyone under twenty was at the party. Arabeth, the coffee girl, waved to him from where she perched on a long cylinder that probably housed some kind of turbine talking to a boy wearing half a Sturmhalten guard uniform. And he found Zulenna dancing with Celeste leaving him wondering how they talked themselves out of trouble. Theo waved as he danced with a girl Gil remembered from Castle Wulfenbach that had left a year before for some reason.

"You seem to be making friends," Anevka said.

Gil shrugged. Making friends wasn't hard--it was keeping them that was difficult which reminded Gil of the one person he hadn't seen tonight. Not that he cared at all what Tarvek was doing he told himself without much conviction.

* * *

When Tarvek got back late from translating in the library, he checked every room in the royal residence but couldn't find his sister. His anger and annoyance kicked up a notch with each room he investigated so by the time he retired to his own in frustration, he slammed every door on principle.

"Violetta!" He waited for his Smoke Knight to make herself seen but nothing happened. Several beats passed before he remembered their fight the day before. "Dammit," he shouted, kicking a stool across the room with a crash.

A moment later, someone knocked on the door, and their butler, Hans, poked in his head. "Is everything all right, Master Tarvek?" he asked, eyes darting around the room suspiciously.

Tarvek removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Yes, everything is fine."

The man nodded, backing out of the room.

"Wait," Tarvek called as he replaced his glasses, "have you seen my sister anywhere?"

Hans seemed to consider his answer thoroughly which just set off warning bells for Tarvek. "No since earlier this evening, sir. She was making plans with some friends." He made a face like he tasted something sour. "They mentioned, 'banging music, cocktails, and a light show,' I believe."

Tarvek sighed. "A party?"

"I believe so, sir. Will you be needing anything else tonight?"

"Short of the location of the party?"

Hans shook his head. "I'm afraid I wasn't privy to that information," he said then shut the door before Tarvek could question him further.

"Apparently neither was I," he muttered.

The clock on his bedside table said it was nearly midnight. It had taken a ridiculous amount of time to finish the translations they'd started that afternoon. Apparently, they had put off the Russian pages for two days and since Holzfäller decided to show off and start them, his father insisted they should be caught up before tomorrow.

Too bad Gil hadn't bothered to help.

"Self-centered jerk," he mumbled to the empty room. "Great, now I'm talking to myself. He's driving me crazy, and he isn't even here."

With a disgusted noise, Tarvek crossed to the corner of his room and pressed a series of stones, opening a door in the wall that he quietly slipped through. He followed the twisting passage until it emerged on the other side of the castle then headed down the stairs.

Two of the maintenance workers hired to help with the heating system scurried out of his way, but Tarvek didn't miss their stifled laughter as he passed. He shot them a look over his shoulder that only sobered them until he turned the corner when he heard them bust out laughing fully. Ahead, a guard leaned against the wall, twirling the hair of a maid standing beside him.

Tarvek growled as he got closer. "Shouldn't you be patrolling?"

The young man snapped to attention as the maid dashed off, red-faced, before Tarvek could reprimand her, too. "Yes, sir, I was just-" He waved lamely, obviously finding no plausible excuse in his tiny brain.

"Uh-huh," Tarvek said then motioned him off.

The guard trotted off in the direction of the main, snickering into his hand. Tarvek wanted to scream to the Heavens as he slammed open the door to his lab at the end of the hall.

"What is with everyone today?" he yelled.

"Huh?"

A body shot up from the cot in the corner, eliciting a started cry from Tarvek until he saw it was only a sleepy Violetta. His momentary fear quickly morphed into irritation. "Where the hell have you been?"

"What?" Violetta said, rubbing her eyes.

"I was looking for you."

She swung her feet around to the floor and stretched. "Well, here I am."

Her nonchalance wasn't helping his mood any--he had quite enough insubordination today. "Well, you're supposed to be there when I call you."

Violetta crossed her arms in obvious defense. "I'm not your dog to beckon, and you told me to leave you alone."

Tarvek's anger deflated at the hurt in her voice, and he dropped onto a stool at one of the tables. Neither of them said anything for a long time. Admitting he was wrong was never one of Tarvek's strong suits, and Violetta was probably even more stubborn than him.

He fiddled with some empty test tubes in a holder. "So where were you all day?" he finally asked, hoping he managed to keep the accusation out of his tone.

Violetta joined him at the table, her fingers tapping a random rhythm that reminded him of Gil earlier in the day. Finally, she let out a breath that he interpreted as forgiveness.

"I was keeping away from Martellus like you said only I don't think he got the memo."

Tarvek's expression darkened."What do you mean?"

Violetta shrugged, trying to play it off as nothing. "I went to training and Tweedle thought it would be fun to-" She finished with another shrug.

Every muscle in Tarvek's body tensed--if that idiot hurt her in any way. He clamped down on the murderous rage. "What happened," he asked with as much calm as he could muster.

Violetta eyed him; she always could see right through him. "Nothing I couldn't handle," she said finally, ending the conversation by turning away.

Tarvek took a moment to process her words, general attitude, and the slight tremor of her hands. Whether it was fear or anger he couldn't tell, but it was obviously affecting her even if she didn’t want to talk about it. He decided the best course of action was to simply change the subject and save them both.

"What's going on here?” he asked, noticing beakers set up. “Some kind of science experiment--do you have another exam coming up?"

Violetta's shoulders slumped. "Nothing like that. I'm testing all my potions."

Tarvek picked up an empty bottle now labeled with a number that seemed to correspond to a page in a small notebook filled with chemical diagrams and ingredient lists. "Move-it number two," he read from the book before setting down the bottle. "What seems to be the problem?"

She sighed in what appeared to be defeat. "I was trying to determine if the right potions were in the correct bottles and if so if they were the right formulas."

"And the conclusion?"

"Everything is what it's supposed to be," she yelled, throwing her hands up.

Tarvek bit back a laugh at her dramatic overreaction.

"Shut up," she said, crossing her arms over her chest again, "it's not funny."

He stopped trying to hide his smile--Violetta was such a little spitfire, as their grandmother liked to call her.

This time she threw a balled-up scrap of paper at him that he easily batted away, but at least she was smiling a little now. Several more papers came his way, forcing him to dodge right off his stool, hands up.

“Okay, okay, I surrender," he said, laughing.

Violetta jutted her chin high in the air, hands on her hips. "As long as you know your place, "she said with a gap-toothed grin.

For the first time all day, Tarvek felt the tension drain from his tired muscles. He'd looked for Anevka to vent about Holzfäller, but he guessed he just needed to let off a little steam. The thought reminded him of another problem, though, souring his mood again.

"I know that look," Violetta said. “Just tell me who I have to poison with Ten-Hour Tinnitus, and I'll get it done."

Tarvek couldn't tell if she was serious or not so was thankful her potion supply was currently spread out in various experiments in his lab.

"It's nothing," he told her as he began picking up the scraps of paper. "I was just looking for Anevka earlier, but no one seemed to know where she was."

"She's probably at the party by now."

Tarvek stopped half-bent, still reaching for a paper to look at his cousin. "Wait, you know about the party?"

Violetta rolled her eyes. "Everyone knows about it."

Tarvek stood, frowning at his polished boots as his arms fell limply to his sides. "I didn't know about it."

Violetta shrugged. "I guess you weren't invited." She seemed to suddenly realize what she said, eyes widening while her face darkened slightly. "I mean, I wasn't invited either--it's just my job to know what's going on around here. And the older Smoke Knights love to brag."

Tarvek sighed--sounded like everyone but him was at this party. "So, do you know where it is?"

She cocked her head in thought. "Considering the number of people I heard traipse past the lab in the last hour, I'm going to guess down in the steam room."

“Why--that seems like an awful place for a party."

Violetta shook her head, eyes rolling again. "It's not one of your dinner parties, stuffy--the steam room is perfect. It's loud to cover the noise and hot so people start taking off clothes-" she pretended to gag, "-but most of all, it's someplace no one would look because they think like you."

"How do you know so much about parties if you've never been to one?"

"I said I wasn't invited, not that I never went--lots of interesting stuff happens at those parties."

Tarvek rubbed his forehead. "Great, so my ten-year-old cousin has more of a life than I do. Terrific."

"Where are you going?" Violetta asked when he turned toward the door.

"I'm, to the party so I can see what I'm missing, of course."

Her left eyebrow shot up. "Dressed like that?"

Tarvek threw up his arms with a huff. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"

"Besides the fact that it's probably thirty-seven degrees down there so you're going to suffocate in that getup, and that it's powder blue so it's going to attract every bit of grime?"

A growl caught in the back of his throat. "Yes, besides that," he said flatly even as he slid out of the jacket and brocade waistcoat.

The smirk that curled her lips made him pause. "Those flowers drawn on your butt are probably going to get more than a few laughs," she said, not even bothering to hold back her own giggles.

"What!"

He twisted around to see the back of his trousers--sure enough, a floral pattern covered most of the seat. It looked suspiciously like the design of the chairs in the summit room. Holzfäller.

"I'm going to kill him! No wonder everyone's been staring and laughing all day. I knew I wasn't imagining it!" He continued to rant and mutter curses as he stormed around the lab looking in lockers and closets for something to wear, finally finding sturdy work trousers that were at least clean.

Violetta busied herself cleaning up her bottles while Tarvek changed. She busted out laughing when he finished. "You're probably going to want the shirt, too."

Tarvek frowned then caught his reflection in the mirror above the sink. His silk shirt with the flouncy sleeves and ruffled collar and cuffs was the height of fashion in Paris but looked ridiculous against the charcoal gray utilitarian bibbed trousers. With a disgusted grunt, he carefully undid the Mother-of-Pearl buttons and hung the shirt on a hangar in the locker then tugged on the twill lab shirt and rolled the sleeves to his elbows to hide the worn cuffs.

"Better?" he said with a scowl.

Violetta snorted. "Not really; let's go." She flung her cape around, settling it on her shoulders as she passed, nearly smacking him in the face.

Tarvek growled but followed her out of the lab and to the left. A few minutes later, they crept through the unlocked gate at the top of the maintenance stairs that led to the tunnels under the castle. The way was lit by some of the fungus Anevka liked to play with, but it grew dimmer the farther they went--not that it mattered as they could easily find their way by the deafening beat of what he assumed was supposed to be music.

Squeezing through a broken gate, they entered the aptly-named steam chamber. Only moments in and Tarvek's clothes clung to his damp skin, making him thankful he left his expensive silk shirt behind.

Everywhere was steam and people or illusions of people and noise and purple lightning. "This is madness," he shouted at Violetta.

"They look like they're having fun," she said, gesturing at the wildly gyrating partiers.

"Than they're mad, too."

Violetta laughed then skipped away, calling over her shoulder, "Try to have some fun, huh?"

Not likely, he thought as he stalked the perimeter of the space, trying to stay out of the way and unnoticed, but inevitably the whispers started. And the pointing and laughing. Tarvek hunched his shoulders, trying to ignore the ill feeling growing in his chest.

"Why am I even here?" he muttered after yet another group of girls fell into giggles after he passed them. He wasn't just not invited--he wasn't wanted here by anyone. To test the hypothesis, he smiled and waved at a girl he knew from the summit.

The smile on her face instantly vanished, and she was suddenly very interested int eh ventilation monitor next to her. Tarvek's heart hurt as he made his way to the exit--he always liked to think himself impervious to the alienation he experienced, but it was one of the many lies he fed himself.

He should have just stayed in his lab with Violetta, safe in his bubble of aloofness. Now he couldn't deny the loneliness he felt standing in this crowd of people--many his own family--that apparently hated him. The realization was a little too much to handle after the day he had. He didn't bother looking for Violetta as he pushed through the throngs of partiers.

He was almost to the gate when he heard the familiar tinkle of Anevka's laughter pulling him back into the room. He'd stay just long enough to ask his sister why he wasn't invited. No, why no one liked him? Why she didn't even want him around?

"Could I be any more pathetic?"

He started to turn around before he could feel any more like a loser when he heard another familiar voice. Peering around a monstrous shaft, he found Aenvka dancing--if you could call it that--wrapped in the arms of the one person he really didn't want to see tonight.

As he watched in frozen horror, Anevka slid her hand along Gil's jaw then leaned in, her lips pressing gently against his as both their eyes fluttered shut.

"No, no, no!" The words rumbled in his chest and up his throat until they exploded from between ground teeth. People nearby quickly got out of the way as he stormed towards the two of them. "Get the hell off my sister, you swine," Tarvek shouted, grabbing Gil by the collar and throwing him to the ground.

"Tarvek," Anevka yelled, "what are you doing here?"

"I just came to see what I was missing which apparently wasn't much besides horrible music and you snogging my sworn enemy."

Anevka rolled her eyes hard. "Sworn enemy, really? Do you even hear yourself? Is it any wonder you're not invited to anyone's parties?"

Tears burned his eyes. "I don't care about their parties," he said as calmly as he could. "But yours-"

She had the decency to look abashed, eyes darting away from his.

"That's what I thought," he mumbled, no longer caring about his dignity as he turned and pushed through the curious and amused onlookers.

[ Part 16 ]

#girl genius #girl genius fanfic #gilgamesh wulfenbach #theopholous dumedd #anevka sturmvoraus #tarvek sturmvoraus #violetta mondarev #sentences #days 106-112 #story: uncalled for actions

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lifesobeautiful · 6 years

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How Our Most Celebrated Geniuses Defeated Creative Block

Do you understand your own mind? Do you know how to spark creativity at will?

Probably not. Nobody does.

In the 21st century, we have maps of the brain. There are libraries of books on psychology, behavior, and self-improvement but the very wealth of literature demonstrates very little to no knowledge of what really goes on in that gray matter.

When you’re working towards a deadline and the ideas aren’t flowing or when you’re building a masterpiece and you’re facing a lot of problems, the idea of a hack or shortcut to the solutions can seem attractive.

Unfortunately, there is no switch you can flick to ignite that lightbulb moment in your brain. There are, however, plenty of things you can try. And we have centuries of geniuses to refer to when looking for such hacks.

Here’s a look at how some of our most inspired artists and inventors got their creative juices flowing.

Distract yourself

Many of these celebrated figures recognized that there was a part of the human mind that works on problems just below the surface of conscious thought. Of course, we know of this place as the subconscious. But waiting for ideas to reveal themselves in your dreams is unlikely to provide results before your deadline hits.

In fact, sometimes, it’s best to go in the opposite direction. If you quiet your mind and reduce the clutter, the voice from downstairs might become audible.

How you do this depends on your preferences and circumstances.

Igor Stravinsky, perhaps the most talented Russian composer of the 20th century, would stand on his head to shake the ideas out. Bizarrely, he believed that his action allowed his head to rest. In truth, it’s likely that concentrating on his balance took Stravinsky’s mind off of his work for a moment. That allowed new ideas to surface.

Steve Jobs notoriously used to bathe his feet in toilet water when he hit a wall. He said that he would do so to reduce stress. The cold water on his feet must have got him out of his head for a while. A regular footbath, or something more strenuous like a round of table tennis, are slightly more sanitary methods you might try.

Take a shortcut to your subconscious

The surrealists, an artist movement originating in the 1920s, believed the subconscious contained a wealth of ideas and solutions that modern man and woman were neglecting. They had many ways of trying to access these, including games such as ‘exquisite corpse’ and stream-of-conscious writing and drawing.

Salvador Dali, perhaps the most famous of the surrealists, had many such methods. One included trying to exploit the moments between waking and sleeping, in which strange images, thoughts, and solutions appear to us, only to evaporate. In order to capture that moment, he would retire with a key held above a plate. When he nodded off, the clatter of the falling key would wake him up immediately.

The Japanese inventor Nakamatsu Yoshirō tried the same, only with death rather than sleep!

In what sounds like a scene from Flatliners, he would hold his head under water until the brink of drowning. Remarkably, he has submitted over three thousand patents and somehow made it to the ripe age of 90. That said, this is not a technique to try at home.

And the greatest inventor of all time, Serbian-American Nikola Tesla, had the habit of curling his toes one hundred times before bed. He believed this was tuning his brain and it’s hard to argue with the man who harnessed electricity for us. But more likely the exercise got Tesla into a kind of meditative or trance-like state.

Create your ideal conditions

Torturing yourself to access those hidden fruits is not a wise idea. When you’re uncomfortable, your mind can be too busy dealing with the heat or the pain to actually get to work on the important stuff.

Truman Capote certainly believed this. He composed his novels and reports in recline and with a glass of sherry on hand. And the crime novelist Agatha Christie used to write in the bath. Of course, she wasn’t hindered (or electrocuted) by a laptop.

Try experimenting with your ideal work conditions. It can be tough to get the right balance of being comfortable without lulling yourself to sleep, but it just takes trying a few alternatives until you get it right.

Stimulate yourself

Christie had an odd habit in the bath: she used to eat apples while she worked and then line the cores up along the rim. Today, some people knowingly eat apples as a healthy alternative to drinking coffee. Containing 13 grams of natural sugar, an apple can give you that jolt that you normally get from caffeine.

Honoré de Balzac is another celebrated novelist with a tremendous output of inspired material. But he chose to stick with coffee, believing that under the caffeine influence “ideas quick-march into motion like battalions of a grand army to its legendary fighting ground and the battle rages.”

Unfortunately, it was the bad stomach resulting from this coffee addiction that finally killed him. Balance, people!

Change things up

Theodor Seuss Geisel, better known as Dr. Seuss, had an appropriately eccentric approach to writer’s block: he would enter his secret closet and pick one of his hundreds of weird and wonderful hats to wear while he worked.

This suggests a couple of ideas you can try without making a major investment in millinery. For one thing, you could take the actor’s ‘outside-in’ approach and try changing what you wear to alter your state of mind. That might be as simple as putting on shoes to work or a suit when normally you’d be casual.

Or you might try adopting another personality for an hour. Got an unsolvable problem? Imagine you’re Steve Jobs, Salvador Dali, or Agatha Christie, and try to work it out from their perspective.

One day you might even attain their level of income!

G. John Cole

John writes on behalf of The Business Backer. A digital nomad specializing in leadership, digital media, and personal growth topics, his passions include world cinema and biscuits. A native Englishman, he is always on the move, but can most commonly be spotted in the UK, Norway, and the Balkans.

LinkedIn: https://ift.tt/2l63cxu Twitter: https://twitter.com/gjohncole Gravatar: https://ift.tt/2wxZBck

The post How Our Most Celebrated Geniuses Defeated Creative Block appeared first on Dumb Little Man.

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