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juleswolverton-hyde · 5 years

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A Valediction: Forbidden Mourning | 01

Genre: Smut, Romance, Angst, Stepbrother AU

Pairing: Stepbrother!Namjoon x English student!Reader

Warning: Appearance of a jealous Namjoon, rutting

Summary: Love comes in many shapes, but does not always have a prosperous fate. However, whereas parents might have found it, all the children can do is live in kalopsia.

Forbidden yet denying the mourning of the path chosen for them by Fate.

Author’s Note: Kalopsia (n.): the delusion of things being more beautiful than they are.

Also, my brain descended further into madness, deteriorating fast thanks to exams about poetry and linguistics, thus producing this fanfic which was originally meant to be a one-shot. Yet, here we are, and it would be a lie to say I am not secretly living for this.

Masterlist / Next part

Preface

As virtuous men pass mildly away, And whisper to their souls to go, Whilst some of their sad friends do say The breath goes now, and some say, No: So let us melt, and make no noise, No tear-floods, nor sigh-tempests move; 'Twere profanation of our joys To tell the laity our love. Moving of th' earth brings harms and fears, Men reckon what it did, and meant; But trepidation of the spheres, Though greater far, is innocent. Dull sublunary lovers' love (Whose soul is sense) cannot admit Absence, because it doth remove Those things which elemented it. But we by a love so much refined, That our selves know not what it is, Inter-assured of the mind, Care less, eyes, lips, and hands to miss. Our two souls therefore, which are one, Though I must go, endure not yet A breach, but an expansion, Like gold to airy thinness beat. If they be two, they are two so As stiff twin compasses are two; Thy soul, the fixed foot, makes no show To move, but doth, if the other do. And though it in the center sit, Yet when the other far doth roam, It leans and hearkens after it, And grows erect, as that comes home. Such wilt thou be to me, who must, Like th' other foot, obliquely run; Thy firmness makes my circle just, And makes me end where I begun. John Donne, Songs and Sonnets, 1633

Happiness can occur in life in all sorts of shapes in places both expected and unexpected, easy to reach or lying at the end of a rocky road. Sometimes it is a physical thing or activity that brings joy - a cup of coffee or tea on a dreary morning while reading a good book that university does not obligate you to read - and sometimes it is a person.

Dad found it in a foreign woman after divorcing Mom, steadily building a relationship from the ashes of the one that had just been burned to the ground, leaving only a daughter just finished with high school as the last steady though crumbling pillar. It could have collapsed had she not accepted the woman and the son who had flown over from a week earlier from the country she herself had left behind and managed to remain friendly despite the thirty-hour jetlag upon seeing the extended welcoming committee upon arrival. Even able to continue to do so in spite of insecurity, crazy working hours draining every last bit of humanity at times and - nowadays fairly decreased - social anxiety arousing suspicion around every unknown person.

At times it remains hard due to the cultural differences, but shared moments like dinners and helping with setting up the rooms for the new inhabitants has only strengthened the bond so that it has become like the days of the old marriage. In fact, travel stories alongside common interests form another source of daily bonding regardless of being busy with university and complaining about it.

Nevertheless, it is a form of love: family. And there is a gladness it has been restored to a formerly broken man trying to create the best life for an insecure though growing lass with wanderlust who likes to be more often absent than present.

Withal, these days the need to escape is grander thanks to a new reason.

Another love in the form of a person.

A big man who is five years older with the beautiful mind of an old soul and the brains of a proper academic, speaking with a silver tongue without lies and baritone tone reminiscent of the days spent by the sea during travelling in the gap year before giving university a chance forms a source of joy in this particular case. Habits like the patting of the head accompanied by encouragements and hugs coloured with a mixture of protectiveness and assurance before setting off on yet another adventure somewhere in the world when the educational and work schedule allows it or before stressful tests increasing the pressuring anxiety bring more comfort than they ought. How curious to see the rise in intimacy in comparison to the polite cold handshakes at the very start of the second journey during twelve careless months.

The sense of amenity has especially become more prominent after a particular night filled with terrors which occupied every dream, making the unconscious body futilely attempt to fight the horror. Joon came bounding up the creaking attic stairs and burst through the door, making sure everything was alright after urgently waking a girl he barely knew safe for what her father and his mother had told him, refusing to go downstairs to the simply furnished bedroom also functioning as a studio and office they built up together. Instead, the one-person bed had to be shared as a harmless bear lay down beside a koala and held her all throughout the night to form a guard against any evil that would dare disturb the calm.

How cruel Fate is.

To send a person who unexpectedly had brought joy to a formerly bland existence filled with self-growth and a lonely road of which the emptiness was denied for surely the scenery made up for the lack of company.

But what of the local cafés for breakfast and coffee breaks, to scan through the taken pictures, show off any proud results to a companion? What of the bookstores to wander in for hours on end, the recommendations that cannot be given to a fellow bookworm?

No one is there.

Nothing but the empty shape of the man with adorable dimples and unique laugh that strangely captured the heart from the start.

All there is, is a sole pair of sneakers that are still a tad dirtied by Scottish mud when stubbornness resulted in being stuck in the hills, too afraid of falling to come down rapidly.

If Joon had been there, big hands would have guided us both down towards the beginning of Holyrood Park safely.

Been held while walking The Royal Mile and wrapped around a warm cup of freshly made cappuccino with impeccable latte art in the form of a Smeraldo flower as the rain poured from the ashen heavens yet we were sheltered from it by Miss MacIntyre’s cosy café.

If he had been there.

Thus, the girl who denied the loneliness is regardlessly left in solitude, lost among stories that can solely be shared with the one person who already loves another in the way the lone wolf loves him.

Because the bond of stepsister and stepbrother is in the way of pursuing a beloved who makes even the stressful days easier and who speaks with the distinct deep voice that can both rap and sing poetry, an odd contrast given the important day job requiring a suit, giving the genuine encouragements needed to see the hours through when everything becomes too much. Whose clothing style shows off the secret duality and sometimes becomes part of the self-developed one after coming home on a rainy day. Definitely becomes part of it if the temperatures are low and worries about potential sickness triggers the stubborn guardian inside the clumsy giant.

Namjoon makes the world not feel as if Atlas has handed over the burden. Instead, he selflessly lifts it.

And yet the truthful smile fades when low and more high-pitched murmurs and giggles on the other side of the bedroom door are heard during passing through the hallway to the attic in the evening, for it is undeniable Heungji, a beautiful onyx-haired girl on the other side of the world in a country - the place of his roots - as gorgeous as the fox herself, will keep the bear’s heart even if miles separate love. At least there is still the digital highway to connect and keep the relationship standing.

All we have are moments like these wherein the friendliness is painfully obvious while going out for a hot beverage together or lunch depending on the time of the seminar and his function as a debtor manager for the bank allows a break, even if the day has not gone awry. Nonetheless, today it has as the linguistics exam did not turn out as well as expected and the sole source of comfort - a cup of joe - cannot be paid for since everything which is necessary for the day was transferred from the bag used for the job as a retail worker to the backpack that was decidedly a better option, except my wallet.

Fortunately, the exchange student within our seminar group and also one of the loved friends made along the way, Changkyun - who goes by the name of Daniel to make it easier for the professors and likely evade embarrassment at the hand of wrong pronunciation - has offered to pay since he, too, needs a break from studying old literature. Moreover, there was no escaping the offer since the hazelnut-haired lad with a sly hint to a stoic look knows how much depends on caffeine in this student’s life and the salary earned at the supermarket in the mall would be deposited today anyway. Besides, spending some time with a fellow student, a rare occurrence outside lectures and regular class, might bring some peace of mind to the rampant mental chaos.

A buzz shaking in the back pocket of dark skinny jeans that do all but hold out the icy winter weather signifies the arrival of a message, the name upon checking who exactly sent it immediately bringing a sliver of a smile to thin lips desperate to cry out in frustration yet remaining silent. ‘Hey, how did it go? Did the practice we did last night do you any good?’

After dinner, Namjoon tried to help with the development of the skill of being able to distinguish between prescriptive and descriptive grammar as we sat in the corner of the stone-shaded L-shaped couch with the printed twenty-five page summary of all that needed to be learned. Before it would never even have occurred to the mind to lean on the broad shoulder offered so freely and embrace the strong arm which also functioned as a stress outlet whenever answering a question wrong. Joon did not mind it, merely asked in a laughing manner not to separate the limb from the body by squeezing.

It perhaps would have been after hearing yet another Skype call with Heungji.

It is silly, being so infatuated with a person who can never be held dear in the desired manner if they were ever fated to be with the lover from afar at all. But that is the way of the world: nobody can always get what they want. At least the parents who raised us have found happiness in each other, a virtue which is more important than the selfish desire for a grey-haired man who holds the middle between a wolf and a bear.

Withal, the same words spoken by the unattainable hidden philosopher when the first doubts about the study and everything surrounding it echo in the faded buzz of companions conversing with one another while waiting for the last party member: just because it is a bad day, does not necessarily mean it is a bad life.

Eager digits foolishly in love with the hallucination firmly cloaking them, refusing to lift the veil, type out a reply speaking the not so pretty truth. ‘First part went fairly well: 68/100. Guess I’m a grammar nazi, after all. The second part proved I, apparently, cannot use grammar in the normal sense. Completely screwed that up: 58/100. Hoping for an average above the 5.0.

‘Anywho, I’m going to forget about it for a wee while with Changkyun and a cup of coffee. Forgot my wallet, but he’s paying so it’s all good. Free coffee!’

An odd uncharacteristic response comes a split second later, the tone of the text containing a harshness which would normally never be associated with the kind giant regardless of the seemingly harmless proposal. ‘I’ll pay. You know what, let’s get lunch together. My treat. I’ll come to pick you up and we’ll go to your favourite restaurant near the convention centre.’

‘Joon, it’s fine. I’ll eat something at home and get back to studying. Besides, it’s only coffee before returning to the study of 1100 years of literary history and I’m sure you’re busy.’ Normally, the chance of sharing a meal after a late morning seminar would not be skipped, certainly not at the Asian fusion restaurant nearby the station and grand cinema, but it is nice to do something with someone else for a change.

Eyes widen in surprise at the determination and silent sternness colouring the turn the conversation has taken, unbelieving of the attitude Namjoon has suddenly taken on. ‘Seeing as I’m texting you, I must not be very busy. Let me take care of you. What was the address of the building where you have class again?’

‘Is this a Korean thing or just you being a very insistent gentleman? Don’t make such a deal out of it and get back to work.’ In the beginning and even nowadays there is a noticeable difference in culture as the wolf simply does not permit me to pay for my own food when the city allows repose from obligation and we should share a meal as family.

As stepbrother and sister.

The role of the latter becomes harder with the day, but the sole audience who gets to see the actress perform remains blind to the woman underneath the makeup due to the performance which crumbles behind the scenes.

The argument is completely disregarded in favour of the behaviour laced with curious possessiveness. ‘Oh, never mind. I remember now. In fact, I’ll be there in ten.’

‘Un-fucking-believable.’ With a defeated sigh and shake of the head, the phone is tucked back into the pocket and music softly sounding through crisp white earbuds turned on again. It is the variety of upbeat Korean pop songs mixed with indie artists and symphonic metal that keeps the blood boiling enough without acting in a rash impulse. Hands are tucked in the pockets of the leather jacket lined with fake wolf fur to trap all bodily warmth. Nonetheless, there is a fleeting, spiderweb-thin, unknown emotion adding extra heat to the body despite the apparent need for control. Something different than the amorous sensation normally provoked by the tall man.

‘Y/N, you okay?’ The baritone voice making one assume the lad speaking is older than the truth dictates, makes a mocking focus shift from sneakers forever engraved by adventures in Scotland and lined with sheep’s wool lightly kicking the ground to the face of the boy who has been a friend since the beginning of September. The hero of this awful day. Wearing the same style as on the matching day, raven locks parted in the middle to make the same-toned baggy hoodie appear more fashionable than it actually is and golden-rimmed glasses framing bright almond-shaped eyes the colour of the earth in autumn set above a tall nose, Changkyun stands waiting patiently for an explanation for the change in behaviour with crossed arms. ‘You already said the test didn’t go too well, but now you seem even more pissed off. Did something happen?’

‘My stubborn... brother.’ The last word comes out with difficulty for lately the situation has grown complicated due to emotions and actions both parties show and undertake, cloaking the relationship in a confusing veil outside of the eyes of loving parents. ‘I don’t know what’s gotten into him lately, but his behaviour has changed and not exactly always for the better. In fact, Joon is somehow completely against us getting coffee. Just two weeks ago he wouldn’t have minded because he knows you’re a good friend of mine, but now he’s acting even worse than I do when The Red Dragon is around.’

Withal, even before the mentioned period of change, some uncharacteristic tweaks in attitude that would soon be made part of the self had been noticeable.

The most obvious one was the curious shift from jealousy which was tried very much to be hidden underneath a calm listening expression to almost undeniable relief at hearing the male coworker turned into a good comrade on the first day of work at a new job picked up a month or so ago at the local mall as a retail worker already has a girlfriend.

A little while later, mayhaps in the week that followed, a similar rapid storm of emotions passed behind the wizened gaze of the bear who was reading Me Before You by Jojo Moyes as Dad and Jeongja, the gentle lovely woman who raised Namjoon and now also has a daughter to care for, spent the evening by watching series on Netflix. The slight cramping of slender caramel digits around the bright crimson sides of the novel showed everything that secretly flashed by in the eyes partially obscured by the top side of the book at hearing a few fellow students, the sole individuals who have been deemed genuine and fun company, dropped by the store for a brief visit before heading home via the station just across the plaza. Changkyun’s name - the sole male one among the fellowship - triggered the quiet rage. The rest form no problem since they are lasses, but the stoic boy who could make an advance that would deepen the current friendship to a more meaningful bond was in the unspoken opinion seething on the stone-toned sofa.

Still is, judging from the tiny tenses of fingers or other easily dismissible negative quirks that appear after accounting having made a linguistics or literature seminar more fun than it truly was by goofing around - in a respectful manner that did not disturb the professor, of course - with a mere companion.

Another sign of transformation are the touches in the early morning when preparing the first cup of coffee of the day, the necessary beverage to get through the following hours, and a small bowl of soy yoghurt. First, it was simply digits muzzling extremely dishevelled but clean ash blonde locks which looked as if having withstood a tornado or gentle petting if they had fallen into a messy though charming bedhead look. Then those touches turned into big warm palms wrapping over the shoulder bared by the baggy shirt functioning as sleepwear, apparently a “convenient” point of support for getting something from the cupboard - being kindly slapped with a sachet of instant coffee on the head - or fridge.

None of it has been minded thus far since it casts a mirage which only adds to the forbidden longing for the tall man who can never be had and the fact Namjoon is the sole person who is allowed any kind of showing physical affection in the morning without being grumbled at. Mayhaps this is how siblings behave in Korea, showing more affection than here in Europe.

However, the intimacy to which they have grown alongside the farewell and welcome-back hugs at the airport or after a long tiring day, certainly will make any outsider curious as to what lies beneath the surface which allows the touches to this degree.

Nonetheless, in those instances, out of the sight that would surely question and judge the skinship, the world is a bit less harsh and the day easier on the psyche.

In those delusional meaningless moments, we are more than stepbrother and sister.

I am his and he is mine.

Regardless, what was minded and continues to bother the consciousness anew after being butchered by grammar and now once again tries to find a plausible explanation for the half-slumbering given excuse which bore no conviction, is this morning’s suddenly very intimate gesture. Perhaps it was an accident because there surely is no other justification for the paradoxical situation that unintentionally formed a prelude to today’s troubled train of thought.

Withal, the sensation of feeling a warm chest containing a wildly beating heart pressed against the spine while a hardened heat source pushed with the same pressure against the behind, the intention of the sensual action clear, and having arms wrapped around the shoulders in an inappropriate intimate embrace as thick grey locks appeared in the corner of barely though immediately alert vision cannot be easily let go of. Just like the full lips drowsily murmuring undecipherable statements against the shoulder blade while one hand travelled down to grip the hip and guide it to feel the slow barely noticeable rhythm set in by the wolf.

When remarking upon the fairly awkward situation, perversely wishing to remain a bit longer like this - even going as far bringing the pleasure suddenly sought after, yet not wanting to ignite any futile hope with the desire-filled images rapidly flashing by in a mental thunderstorm - Sense returned from wherever it went in an instant and the bear tainted with the traces of slumber muttered a poor excuse about not being fully conscious, having had a difficult conversation the night before with Heungji and therefore not being in the right proper mindset.

That it was just a lucid dream.

After all, we are siblings.

It meant nothing.

Simply an accident.

A bittersweet moment of actually feeling wanted as more than the sweet girl by the poet bound to an onyx fox in the land of tigers.

But it is uncertain what Heungji would think of the recent obvious displays of jealousy. Surely, it would not be much appreciated if a lover so clearly is affected by the actions of another, basically not allowing them to be with anyone who is not approved of aside from themselves. In fact, the situation a wolf and koala are in is one of cheating.

Then again, there is too much distance between the two and things are easily left unspoken.

Mayhaps I am a mere distraction.

Worth nothing.

Howbeit, if one thing has been learned from the relatively brief time together, it is that cold false games like that are not Namjoon’s way and would be an unbelievable attempt at hiding the genuine nature underneath the sometimes intimidating exterior. Henceforth, something must have happened which has triggered the change. After all, how difficult was that conversation last night and was it the first or another addition to a series of multiple? Furthermore, there are still the kind-hearted soft female giggles and sonorous chuckles resonating from the other side of the door, although not quite so often as they used to do.

It is frustrating how the self cannot let go of Hope and let Sense lead it down another, less painful, path. That there is no progress from the dream keeping the mind captured.

What would not be given in order to escape the kalopsia.

‘He is likely just concerned for his little sister. I know I’d be if my sister would go out, even for just a coffee, with a guy despite claiming they’re merely friends.’ A small smile forms on roseate lips, promising there is nothing to worry about and this is merely natural behaviour. ‘He’s simply being a good brother, Y/N.’

‘Changkyun, you don’t- no, never mind.’ At the last second, the intent to use the accident as an argument is repressed, deciding it is too much information to share with somebody regardless of the bond with them. ‘Let’s just keep it at that he’s simply being weird but, as you said, a good brother.’

A lie which has to be believed every single day in order to move past the fantasies romanticizing reality and keeping the conscious blind to the all too eager harshness which would so like to make them crumble into tiny irretrievable shards.

To keep breathing when the salt shed in privacy has dried and Namjoon still is not there.

To just keep going.

‘Whatever you say, Y/N. Whatever you say.’

For a few more minutes, we simply stand basking in the warm scent of the building’s coffee corner while waiting for the last party member to return from the awful linguistics test, spending the time in silence disturbed by melodies only a sole pair of ears can hear. The music calms the nerves standing on edge with the for once negative anticipation of seeing the recently grown odd stepbrother appear in the doorway to fulfil the promise that could not be refused.

There is always a choice, you tell me that time and again when rock bottom is close or times are generally hard but not desperate. However, why is there not now? Why can’t you let me pick?

‘I’m so glad that’s over! All I want to do is go home and forget this bloody test.’ Golden straight locks round the corner in a whirlwind of temporarily gradually fading worry, held together by a caramel-toned hair tie. Judging from the tiredness dimming the normally bright - albeit tainted with stress more often than not - crystal blue stare, Monica is well and truly done with the day. ‘Let’s get out of here. I need to go home to study for tomorrow’s exam.’

‘Go take a break with us.’ The need for a brief repose is barely able to be dismissed from even the slightly happier expression breaking the stoic façade of the pale hazelnut-haired fellow caffeine addict. ‘Y/N and I are going to get some coffee anyway so join us.’

‘It’ll do you some good. Studying can wait until later.’ Fingers remove the headphones providing rest for a chaotic mind, the sounds of the world flowing in after melodies fade. A hand stretches out, tempting another soul into procrastination. ‘Or you’ll end up like Donne, obsessed with death. Death by studying. Come on, Mon. Let’s go.’

Withal, it cannot be taken nor a step set towards the exit of the edifice before an all too familiar baritone voice growls in warning. ‘How about you come with me?’

So far for escaping the sole person who wanted to be evaded at all costs to merely enjoy the rare occasion of doing something with friends, unrelated to university.

Because in the doorway and thus barring the way, clad in a neat onyx turtleneck and same-coloured pants underneath a trench coat which is a lighter shade of black, the outfit put on for work as a debtor manager this very morning, stands an intimidating wolf instead of the kind book-loving bear who helped with studying last night. And since there is no help, there is also no possible tactic that can be employed to still succeed in circumventing the six-feet-tall blockade.

There is no way to avoid Namjoon, raging with jealous menace.

#BTS #BTS smut #kpopwonderlandtag #btssmutclub #btsguild #armyofwriters #BTS x Reader #Namjoon #RM #Kim Namjoon #Joon #Stepbrother!Namjoon #A Valediction: Forbidden Mourning

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crypticnala · 6 years

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r/supdating

Erumike supernatural week!

Day 1: Vampires and Werewolves

Summary: In Erwin long life he had seen many things. He wasn't really surprised by anything anymore. Sure, he still felt fascination and wonder. But nothing like having your breath taken away. And yet...

Rating : T Warning : No warning applies Wordcount : 1k6

Read on ao3 here or under the cut!

2018 - City Unknown

I clicked on the small round red icon with a white robot on it and soon enough was redirected to the home page of reddit. The small red envelope on top let me knew that I had one message to read, but I set it aside, preferring to browse the "best" of the subs I was following. Five minutes later, and a little deeper than where I was at the beginning, I couldn't take it anymore. That little red icon kept calling me, the bright color always in the corner of my vision, in the corner of my mind. I knew who it was. It could only be him, and the thought both filled me with excitation and dread. I ignored it for three threads before giving in. Sighing, I clicked on the inbox button. And as expected, there is was, the only message in my unread box. Mikemotor had answered. You would ask "What the hell is a vampire doing on reddit?" And I would answer with "Well, everyone needs to pass the time, especially vampires who have copious amount of it on their hands". So yes, this is how I found myself on reddit, wasting hours and hours away on popular and not so popular subs. What had brought me here first was my interest in modern mechanics and more particularly in mechanical transports. Cars, buses, trains, planes, motorcycle… It was so fascinating the way humans found new ideas to move themselves! Hell, I was as excited as a child when the overboard got out! And yes, I did buy one. And also, yes, I did fall and then kept the damn thing in my closet never to be brought out again. But it had been fun. So, in my constant search for more information about these moving vehicles that did not involves any animal of any kind, I stumbled upon the website reddit and decided it was good enough to feed me information that I was seeking. The community aspect was also what drew me to it. You actually interacted with other people, and for a vampire as old as me, it was something I was always searching. Interacting with other humans, it helped me stay in touch with the real world, helped learn the slangs, the new trends… It was the best way for me to try to keep an ounce of humanity. It was hard trying to keep up when you could only come out at night. And even if I could come out during the day, the truth was, after years of being a vampire, there was this impassable barrier that kept you from the humans. You sought them out when you needed them, but socializing? God forbid.

So I took what I could and lived on social interaction through a screen with stranger. And this is how I met u/mikemotor. It had started with small interactions, I saw him make a comment on r/MotorcyclePorn, and then on r/Motorcycle and then on every subs that I had a relation by far or not with motorcycles. I had first responded to one of his comments on one sub, then on another sub, and before I knew it, we were following each other and started a private conversation about whether one should go Italian or Japanese when choosing a racing motorcycle. But that was two five hundred messages ago. I had learned quite a few things about him, his name was Mike (big surprise there), he was a mechanic working in a garage that specialized in motorcycles (which explained all the motorcycle subs he was on), he was 34, was an only child, liked old and classic rock though he rarely went to concert or festival, liked spicy food (that one was very interesting as people eating a lot of spicy food had… interesting blood), and a surprise encounter on a gay nsfw sub let me knew what was Mike's sexuality and that he took working out very seriously and was what the gay community would label as "a wolf". We both learned that we lived in the same city, and it was only a matter of time before one of us asked to meet "irl". The day was tomorrow night. Mike had asked if I fancied having a beer with him, and while I told him I did not drink beer (I did not drink except blood really) I agreed to meet him after sundown. The message he had just sent me was to confirm the time and place. I replied shortly, telling it was fine on my end. I closed the computer, rubbing my eyes, it was an old habit very humanlike that I had actually never gotten rid of. I never needed to actually rub my eyes. Musing about our meeting of tomorrow I closed the computer and went about my night. As I lay in my bed, getting ready to sleep for the day, I couldn't help the small flutter of nerve that buzzed in my stomach. That was new, and I for one, did not dislike it. I glanced around the street, crossing when there was a pause in traffic, heading to the pub on the other side. The Beacon red in green letter above the door of the bar. It wasn't a fancy or too modern bar like you found in the city center. This one was in a discreet street, the front in warm brown wood, the dark green letters on it giving a comforting vibe. The music inside was good, the people there nice, the drink (from what I gathered) where good, everything inside was comfy and clean. Said like that, it was a perfect bar. Little did people know, The Beacon was also a "mixed" bar, like the community liked to call them. And I'm speaking about the general supernatural community. The bar was owned by a couple of demons, and contrary to some more selective club that used witchcraft to keep humans at bay, The Beacon welcomed everyone. Now, did Mike knew that? Or was he just a normal human that had stumbled upon this gem and decided it would be a good place for a first date. I mean, first meeting an "irl" friend. I shrugged the slight discomfort that had settled in my stomach and opened the door. Immediately the noise and the smell were too much for me. Cons of being a vampire with super sensitive sense. Still in the entrance, I tried to get my bearing. Relaxing, I searched through the crowd for Mike. He had told me he would be wearing a black leather jacket, but really, how many people wore leather jacket to go out? That's right, a shit ton. Apprehension growing, I scanned the crow once more, trying to find something, picking up leather jackets man before setting them aside, and then, there, at the back, sitting alone at a table, I saw him. I would have recognized the built and the presence everywhere. Strong arms, large chest, long brown hair, and eyes so dark they almost seemed black in the dimmed light. Something dropped, setting heavy in the pit of my stomach. I made my way to Mike, keeping my eyes on him, soon enough he shifted and looked up my way. His gazed fixed mine, and there, just now it came, his eyes widened in realization. I stopped in front of the table and looking him up and down. For a wolf, Mike was a damn wolf. As in, a fucking werewolf. I opened my mouth to speak, not even knowing what was going to come out, before Mike’s guffaw interrupted me. "You must be Erwin, I'm Mike" he stood, extending a hand, "it's a surprise, but I can't say I'm mad.", we shook hand, and I belatedly noticed that my body had decided to act on its own accord. I nodded to him, hand still clapped together. When they had first touched, the deep feeling in my stomach had stirred, filling from my head to my toes with warmth. Mike's hand still in mine, I stared at him, that feeling, that warm feeling, I knew it. It was the feeling that I knew this man. I was familiar with this hand, with this half smile, with that twinkle in his eyes. I knew him. And as sure as I knew him, I also knew that this was the first time I was seeing this man in my entire life. "Mike," I finally took my hand away, not sure how to respond to this new development. Mike smiled back, but it was strained, like something was also on his mind. His eyes went unfocused a short time before fixing on me again. "Erwin", he sat down, gesturing to the seat in front of him for me to sit too, "I'd offer you something to drink, but I guess you wouldn't be quite pleased with what they have on the menu here". I sat, smiling faintly, still trying to figure out how to go from there. We sat, staring at each other, not saying a word. A damn werewolf. Mike was probably thinking the same thing, trying to figure out how in hell had he befriended a damn vampire. I cleared my throat, trying to find something to say. "So you come here often?" I heard my mouth utter the word, while my brain was simultaneously screaming at me to shut it. All those years living, all the beauty of poetry, romance, music I lived through, and all I could say was that awful pickup line? But Mike laughed, his eyes crinkling, and once again that warm feeling washed all over me. "Come on, I'll go get something to drink, we'll talk and who knows, maybe you will get something to drink later tonight", he said standing up. He winked at me before disappearing in the crowd. Oh hell. You might as well enjoy your night, you old bat.

#erumikesuper2k18 #erumikeweek #erumike #erwin smith #mike zacharias #day 1 : vampires and werewolves #my fic

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char27martin · 7 years

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Don’t Panic: 14 Underappreciated Douglas Adams Quotes for Writers, the Universe and Everyone

Here author Douglas Adams poses holding a copy of the book which has “Don’t Panic” written on the front cover. 29th November 1978. (Photo by Daily Mirror/Mirrorpix/Mirrorpix via Getty Images)

“Let us think the unthinkable, let us do the undoable, let us prepare to grapple with the ineffable itself, and see if we may not eff it after all.”

– from Dirk Gently’s Holistic Detective Agency (1987)

To all you hoopy froods out there: Today is the anniversary of the day The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy hit bookstores 1979—and to sweeten this glorious day, it was just announced that the Hitchhiker series is in line for a radio reboot that will hark back its origin as a radio special.

While Douglas Adams’ satirical space jaunt never grows old, everyone’s heard about towels and unfortunate flower pots and dozens of other quotes from the Guide a dozen times over. But there’s so much more he wrote and said that’s worth absorbing, which is why we’re celebrating this auspicious day with a few wisdoms you might not remember—or that you may not have read at all. (And most of them are particularly poignant for writers too.)

So grab your towel, put down your Vogon poetry and dive into these impeccable Douglas Adams quotes about media, information, life, technology and more.

14 Underappreciated Douglas Adams Quotes for Writers (and Everyone)

1. For when you’re feeling unimaginative:

“Anything can be real. Every imaginable thing is happening somewhere along the dimensional axis. These things happen a billion times over with exactly the same outcome and no one learns anything. Whatever a person can think, imagine, wish for, or believe has already come to pass. Dreams come true all the time, just not for the dreamers.”

— from And Another Thing … (2009)

2. For when your plot takes you somewhere you weren’t expecting:

“… my methods of navigation have their advantage. I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be.”

— from The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul, Ch. 13 (1988)

3. For when you’re pondering the mystery of life:

“For us, there is no longer a fundamental mystery about Life. It is all the process of extraordinary eruptions of information, and it is information which gives us this fantastically rich, complex world in which we live; but at the same time that we’ve discovered that we are destroying it at a rate that has no precedent in history, unless you go back to the point when we are hit by an asteroid!

— from “Parrots, the Universe and Everything” a talk at the University of California, Santa Barbara—Adams’ final public appearance before his death in May 2001

4. For when you’re in need of a different perspective:

“He was constantly reminded of how startlingly different a place the world was when viewed from a point only three feet to the left.”

— from The Salmon of Doubt: Hitchhiking the Galaxy One Last Time (2002), Random House

5. For when you’re having trouble working out that troublesome inconsistency in your narrative:

“Solutions nearly always come from the direction you least expect, which means there’s no point trying to look in that direction because it won’t be coming from there.”

— from The Salmon of Doubt: Hitchhiking the Galaxy One Last Time (2002), Random House

6. For when you need a fun fact … or two:

“I’d take the awe of understanding over the awe of ignorance any day. My favorite piece of information is that Branwell Brontë, brother of Emily and Charlotte, died standing up leaning against a mantelpiece, in order to prove it could be done. This is not quite true, in fact. My absolute favorite piece of information is the fact that young sloths are so inept that they frequently grab their own arms and legs instead of tree limbs, and fall out of trees.”

— from The Salmon of Doubt: Hitchhiking the Galaxy One Last Time (2002), Random House

7. For when you’re on the hunt for ideas:

“So where do the ideas actually come from? Mostly from getting annoyed about things. Not big issues so much … as the little irritations that drive you wild out of all proportion.”

— from the introduction to The Frood: The Authorised and Very Official History of Douglas Adams & The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy

8. For when you’re worried about the future of printed books and media:

“It’s important to remember that the relationship between different media tends to be complementary. When new media arrive they don’t necessarily replace or eradicate previous types. Though we should perhaps observe a half second silence for the eight-track. — There that’s done. What usually happens is that older media have to shuffle about a bit to make space for the new one and its particular advantages. Radio did not kill books and television did not kill radio or movies — what television did kill was cinema newsreel. TV does it much better because it can deliver it instantly. Who wants last week’s news?”

— from The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Future (2001), a BBC Radio 4 program on how new media and technology will change our lives

9. For when you’re working on a deadline:

“I love deadlines. I love the whooshing noise they make as they go by.”

— from The Salmon of Doubt: Hitchhiking the Galaxy One Last Time (2002), Random House

10. For those looking to avoid clichés in their writing:

“One of the things Ford Prefect had always found hardest to understand about humans was their habit of continually stating and repeating the very very obvious, as in It’s a nice day, or You’re very tall, or Oh dear you seem to have fallen down a thirty-foot well, are you alright? At first Ford had formed a theory to account for this strange behaviour. If human beings don’t keep exercising their lips, he thought, their mouths probably seize up. After a few months’ consideration and observation he abandoned this theory in favour of a new one. If they don’t keep on exercising their lips, he thought, their brains start working. After a while he abandoned this one as well as being obstructively cynical.”

— from The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy

11. For when you’re questioning reality:

“‘How can I tell,’ said the man, ‘that the past isn’t a fiction designed to account for the discrepancy between my immediate physical sensations and my state of mind?’”

— from The Restaurant at the End of the Universe (1980)

12. For those times when you realize you’ve evolved as a writer:

“They were not the same eyes with which he had last looked out at this particular scene, and the brain which interpreted the images the eyes resolved was not the same brain. There had been no surgery involved, just the continual wrenching of experience.”

— from So Long and Thanks for All the Fish (1984)

13. For when you’re feeling out of touch with new technology:

“I’ve come up with a set of rules that describe our reactions to technologies: Anything that is in the world when you’re born is normal and ordinary and is just a natural part of the way the world works. Anything that’s invented between when you’re fifteen and thirty-five is new and exciting and revolutionary and you can probably get a career in it. Anything invented after you’re thirty-five is against the natural order of things.”

— from The Salmon of Doubt: Hitchhiking the Galaxy One Last Time (2002), Random House

14. For when you’re crafting a story with an unsual timeline:

“Anything that happens, happens. Anything that, in happening, causes something else to happen, causes something else to happen. Anything that, in happening, causes itself to happen again, happens again. It doesn’t necessarily do it in chronological order, though.”

— from Mostly Harmless (1992)

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