#and this is the easy part...can't wait for all the studying required for the actual interview process

[syndrossi]

tfw you promised to send your resume to two different people today but that requires updating your resume and you don't waaaannnnna

[ancha-aus]

Gifted Drabble - NewAgeAU - Sorrow Night and Hopeful Morning

Okay. So. A little bit different :3

As some of you have probably noticed by my reblogs. @spotaus is making their own version for a younger Nightmare with adult gang. kinda inspired by RealAgeAU (clue the name) and well. There is no way i could NOT play with it. Just a tiny bit :3

So here we are. A tiny gift for my friend :3

*-----------------------------*

Ccino rubs his face as he leans against the wall. Thankful the day is finally over.

Calling it stressful would have been an understatement. It had been pure panic when Nightmare had just started throwing up goop in the middle of lunch only for more to melt away from him.

Ccino had been shocked to see someone he recognized at the end and had been frozen.

All in all, they had been very lucky that it had only been them and Nightmare's knights. Ccino does not want to know what kind of damage control he would have had to do if more people had seen it.

Horror had been the first to react. He had easily picked Nightmare up, or more easily as he had shrunk, and taken him to Nightmare's private study.

Ccino had quickly ordered some maids to clean the mess and leftover lunch. Stating there was an emergency that required the king's full attention.

Ccino had reached his study and gone inside to find Nightmare just staring at himself in silent shock. His knights all looked unsure what to do next and Ccino had quickly ordered them to stand watch outside.

He is still very thankful that Nightmare had named him leader of the house which meant that while in the castle Ccino called the shots after Nightmare.

In the end? Nightmare seemed fine. Even the cracks in his skull had been old and healed. Ccino still adviced the now young again king to take things easy and rest before he rushed out to make sure everything is still quiet.

It took a while and some more creative lies but people now just think Nightmare is preparing for an emergency mission adn that everyone is too leave him be.

Ccino sighs as he walks towars his own chambers, located in the nicer part of the castle. A reward for his loyalty and service which had been given to him long ago.

Ccino is ready to sleep. It is much later than he normally retires and tomorrow will be just as if not busier day.

He walks down a hallway when he notices some flickers of light under a door. huh. He follows the slight light and finds the source to be Nightmare's study. None of the knights outside it this time. probably on their usual rounds around the castle.

Ccino knocks twice and waits. silence from beyond the door.

Ccino frowns and leans close to the door to listen "My liege? Are you still in here?"

More silence before a quiet come in sounds from the room. Ccino steps inside and finds Nightmare behind the large desk. Many papers and scrolls covering it as he looks from one to the other.

Ccino frowns as he walks over. Nightmare glances at him before looking back at the covered desk "I thought you would be asleep by now?"

Ccino feels his teeth tug upwards towards a smile "And I thought the same about you... I thought i told you to rest?" he stops by his side and glances at the desk.

It is all old script on the old prophecy and legends concerning the apples. That disasterous ritual that must have ruined many lives.

Nightmare rubs his socket, he looks tired "I need to figure out what happened... what went wrong... Nothing. Nothing ever spoke about the apple taking the power given back. It never spoke about anything concerning it." he points at some script "It speaks about the apple given the ability to gain power. to gain more magic like its own. I thought that that was the tentacles and stuff. But they are gone and nothing speaks of it disappearing!" he puts his skull in his hands as he stares down.

Ccino can't help but just stare at his king. Actually seeing how small nightmare now looks behind the desk. in the chair made for a king who had been given power by the ritual.

Ccino frowns as he sits on the arm rest and waits.

Nightmare glares at the text "It doesn't say... it doesn't tell me how to fix this... how do i fix this? how will people react to this?! my standing as king is already shakey. How will they react to their king now being a child?!"

Ccino remembers the screams of pure agony when Nightmare first ate the apple. How he had fallen to the ground as the magic started to reform him in front of everyone.

Ccino thinks he doesn't want nightmare to go through that again. but first "You are tired nightmare."

Ngihtmare shakes his skull "I just need to figure this out and... and find a way to... to turn it back again."

Ccino nods "or. you go to bed." he stops himself from rubbing the much smaller skull. a thing he used to do when he babysat Nightmare when he had still been younger before the apple. "Sometimes things look worse at night than they really are." Nightmare glares at him and Ccino grins "I mean it. It is because we get tired and our mind grows tired. We aren't able to think rationally anymore and react more from our emotions. You need to get some sleep and you can try thinking about it again in the morning."

Ngihtmare frowns but sighs as he nods. Ccino helps him clean his desk a little before walking him back to his room.

Finding Cross outside. standing alert and waiting. He spots them and gives the usual guard bow "My king." Cross gives Ccino a nod before he stands alert again.

Right. Ccino will need to figure out what to tell the knights. none of them know nightmare like this and Ccino is worried they may end up leaving or worse.

Nightmare disappears into his room and Ccino turns to leave towards his own.

"Are you sure it is him?"

Ccino stops and turns back to Cross. Cross is frowning at him.

Ccino nods "I am."

Cross frowns "How?"

Ccino rolls his eye lights "Because I know Nightmare. Something i thought you four would by now as well." and he leaves.

Ccino hopes that with the slight dig it will compele their competitive sides to stick around and figure out how Ccino knew. Get to know this version of nightmare and see he is still the same guy. just smaller and younger.

Ccino gets back to his room and sighs as he lays in his own soft bed. He ends up laying awake for a while as his mind worries about everything that could go wrong.

eventually he falls asleep. his sleep fitful.

--

His alarm goes off early, before the sun has risen even. Ccino groans and rubs his sockets. shit this is why he tries to go to bed on time and leave the last night cleanup to others.

He yawns as he gets ready and dressed for the day before making his way towards the kitchen.

The castle has two kitchens. one is for the preparations of the large meals. which includes parties and the meals for the servants. The other, much smaller kitchen, is for the more private meals.

Ccino gets there and gets out some cooled dough which he starts to knead and prepare. he makes thin sheets of butter and layers it carefully with thin layers of dough.

Ccino had quite a few priveledges but also duties. one is that he is one of the few who is allowed to prepare food for nightmare unsupervised. his knights are the other ones.

nightmare is still worried and afraid of a betrayal and ccino had worked hard to gain his trust and faith.

The layers are complete and Ccino looks through the fridge for some filling. he grabs some raspberries before he notices some chocolate. crap he will need to figure something out for Error as well. make sure they don't lose their royal mage over this slight change.

Ccino will make some special chocolate croissants later and bring those to him as he shares the news. butter him up wiht sweets and reassure him that nothing has to change about Error's job and position. the teen really likes chocolate so Ccino hopes that is enough.

He rolls the layered dough around the raspberries in nice little croissant shapes before putting them in the stone oven to bake. in the meantime he peels some pears and oranges with care before cutting them into nice pieces. he puts it on the plate and grabs some milk from the fridge and fills a glass. Nightmare will have to start drinking and eating things to help his growth and healing. just in case he needs to recover after losing the corruption.

the croissants are ready and ccino plates them, leaving a few to the side for himself to eat later, before making his way towards the chambers.

He quickly spots cross and nods in greeting. Cross however stops him and smiles "I will bring his breakfast inside. I am sure you are busy." and he glances to the side.

Ccino frowns at the guard. strange. the don't normally offer that. much prefering to let ccino deal with having to wake up nightmare for the day.

Ccino studies the guard and notices that cross looks a bit nervous for some reason.

Ccino makes sure to look unimpressed "I much prefer to make sure he eats a bit before i continue with my duties." and he waits.

Cross looks more nervous but sighs as he steps aside. clearly giving in.

Ccino frowns at him before he opens the door and quietly steps inside. his voice is barely above a whisper to start with "good morning my liege."

Then he sees it.

Killer is asleep in Nightmare's bed as he holds the other protectively. a book open by his side. Ngihtmare lays rolled up and is holding unto killer's shirt tightly.

Ccino shoots cross a look and cross looks highly embarressed "Night- I mean. our king was nervous and just wasn't falling asleep. I got worried and wasn't sure what to do so i called Killer because he was here the longest. Killer wnet inside and he and nightmare spoke softly before killer just laid down with him and grabbed a book to read with nightmare. They fell asleep aroudn the same time and i just dind't want to interrupt their sleep as night- our king looked like he needed it badly." Cross looks to the side and mutters "I know i should ahve called you but i knew killer was awake and i knew you would be asleep by that point so.... yeah."

huh.

Ccino walks over to the bed and places the tray with food down. he sits down carefully on the bed and ignores the threatening aura that killer puts on. killer no doubt woke up to someone getting near and is ready for a fight.

instead ccino very carefully nudges nightmare "nightmare?"

nightmare gives a sleepy mumble before shooting him the stink eye. heh. Nightmare never was a morning person.

Ccino grins "I am sorry my liege. Do you wish to remain asleep for a bit longer?"

ngihtmare consider it for a moment and yawns before answering "Yeah."

Ccino nods "Very well. I will make sure that you have no appointments today in that case. your breakfast is here for when you want." he gets up and waits for a moment to see Ngihtmare hum sleepily before going back to sleep. leaning heavily against one of his trusted knights.

Ccino looks up and nods to killer beofre going towards the door.

Cross is still looking down embarressed. Ccino shoots him an amused look after the door closed "You cna just tell me next time. I could have prepared his breakfast later." he crosses his own arms.

Cross frowns and looks to the side "it is just... we are guards and guards shouldn't be this close and it is disrespectful."

Ccino raises a brow "You aren't just guards. you are his knights. his personal knights. of course he is going to trust you four above anything else. It is your duty to be there for him and protect him. The fact he is now a teen and may rely more on your four for emotional support as well is something none of us expected." he sighs as he says the next sentence "something we will obviously need to discuss as well. see if you four are okay wiht it and extra duties that come with this change, however long they may last and-"

cross glares "we don't mind!" he cringes and glances at the door before making his voice quieter "we know things are different and well things will change but just because he is now younger doesn't mean we aren't loyal anymore."

Ccino stares at him before grinning "good. honestly. much better. I was already worried i would have to figure out if there was another position to put you four back in instead of personal knights. deknighting is very looked down upon and could hurt nightmare's reputation. but if you four are still up for this and will remain loyal? well, all the better."

Cross looks shocked before nodding and going back to standing guard

ccino gives him a look "Who is going to switch with you?"

Cross mutters but answers eventually "Dust should be here soon."

Ccino nods "good. make sure to rest before you try any training. you have been up all night and standing the whole time." he gives him another look before turning and wlaking away.

He has quite the list of tasks for today to work through. formost is making sure nightmare cna just rest today. At least the knight situation is mostly stable and already taken care of.

As ccino had told nightmare the night before. sometimes the things that were scary in the night turned out to be just fine in the morning.

[rom-e-o]

"New Beginnings and Second Chances" (Ebenezer/Constance)

It's proposal time, all.

I've been tweaking and writing this as an epilogue to "Begin Again", and I think we're ready to share.

Thank you to everyone who has come along on this amazing journey! (Oh, it's not over. We're STILL trucking along strong, but man ... you can't deny that we've come far.)

Enjoy!

Ebenezer Scrooge, on most days, was an exponentially composed man.

He had tackled business negotiations, fortified good clients (while tastefully dismantling the smarmy ones) and cemented deals with estimated costs comprised of more numbers than most phone numbers, plus extensions.

However, on this very morning, the man was practically carving a path into the walnut floors of his home as a result of his pacing. He was in his study, and had been for the better half of the morning, waking and readying himself even before the arrival of his maid, Magda.

The day had come. He was going to do it. It was the second time he’d taken on the upcoming task, and yet this time, he felt more nervous than he had the first time.

He was going to propose to Constance DoGoode – the woman he’d been privileged enough to meet, fall in love with, and even receive her love in return.

He was going to ask her to marry him. To be his … wife.

Gods, the words gave him chills.

“Be steadfast, man,” he mouthed aloud, hand flying to his chest as his heart threatened to burst from his ribcage. It was soaring beneath his fingertips. “Don’t kick the bloody bucket before you even ask her!”

His treacherous heart continued to race, and he resigned himself to stepping close to the window for some fresh air. That actually helped, and he filled his lungs with the green-tinted, early morning haze of the early spring morning.

He’d acquired the ring a few days ago after sneaking one of her other bands to a jeweler to get the correct sizing. Now, every time he glimpsed the glittering stone, it took everything in him to not sod all his proposal plans and fall on one knee at the next sight of her. The ring had been burning a hole in both his pocket and mind since he’d purchased it; the stone seemingly just as excited to sparkle upon her finger as he was to place it upon it.

The ring had been an easy choice. A solitaire, square-cut diamond on a polished gold band. Simple. Elegant. Classy.

He’d known it was the ring from the moment he’d spotted it glittering in the case at the jeweler’s shop. One resize later (using one of her everyday rings that he’d silently apologized for taking from her jewelry box) and it was ready. He fitted it into a blue velvet ring box, and kept it in the very back of the only drawer in his work desk that required a lock to open. Just in case.

The ring, all things considered, had been a straightforward acquisition.

The proposal itself? That was a slightly more complicated matter.

Ebenezer had spent the better part of the last month seriously envisioning different scenarios for how he could pop the question. While the gesture itself had dominated his thoughts for the better half of a year, he’d seriously started noodling around ideas and putting pieces together in recent weeks.

It had to be as perfect as possible, he reasoned. Not so perfect that he put it off forever, of course, but it had to be worthy of her.

It had to be completely different than the experience that rat bastard of an ex-husband had given for her. That meant not proposing in a public place (quite fine with him) and not proposing while stumbling over himself drunk (exceptionally fine with him).

So …

Suddenly, like the first call of a meadowlark ending the silence of night, a knock sounded at the door.

“Mr. Scrooge, sir?”

Without waiting for an answer, another giddy knock came from the other side of his study’s door, the sound practically dancing across the lacquered. He bid the guest entry, knowing it was Magda just from her voice.

When the Hungarian woman slipped inside, an excited grin decorated her face. She practically glided through the door’s crevice, careful to latch the door noiselessly behind her before she spoke. “My stars, sir! Today is the day, is it not?”

He nodded, taking a deep breath as Magda bounced on her heels. After an energetic clap, she reached out to take the man’s hands and give them a reassuring squeeze. “Oh, don’t fret! She’ll say yes!”

He hoped. Gods, he hoped so. He hoped she said yes, and he hoped she said yes out of desire and not obligation, like she had with Orin. Although she loved him, it had been too soon, she’d said.

…Gods, was it too soon for them, too?

No, his mind raced to think, there was no going back. He didn’t want to wait, like he had with Isabel.

No, he had to ask. To make his love known and open. The rest was in her hands.

“I sent for the carriage this morning,” he said, breathy with nervousness, “By the time she awakens and dresses, they should arrive.”

Reaching into his pocket, he procured his silver pocket watch and glimpsed the time. The hands sat at 6:48 a.m. It wouldn’t be long before his love began to stir.

“Shall I prepare any breakfast? Or are you lovebirds going to eat in the coach?”

“Much obliged, Magda, but I went ahead and prepared something.”

She waggled her brow in intrigue. “You.”

He waggled his brow somewhat defensively. “Yes, me, as a matter of fact. Thank you for that sign of confidence.”

“I didn’t know you could cook, sir!”

“Magda, may I remind you that I survived many, many years – decades, actually – without a maid helping me cook? While I am infinitely grateful for all the help you’ve provided me, I assure you I am quite capable of…”

“…”

“…Ethel assisted me. Happy?”

Magda let out an amicable laugh. “Happy, and less worried for the poor lady’s stomach, as well.”

Scrooge hmph!-ed at her playful teasing. He knew her jabs were all in good faith, and presented a welcome distraction from his nervous pacing and racing thoughts. Whether it was intentional or not, he appreciated her company in that moment, just like had every single day he’d had the pleasure of employing her.

“Magda, I—”

Then, the faint sound of creaking stairs from outside the study door caught their attention. Both ceased talking just in time to hear a gentle knock on the study door.

“Come in, love,” Ebenezer called, knowing exactly who was on the other side.

Sure enough, Constance peered in, blue eyes wide and her smile bright, but still a touch sleepy. “Ah, there you both are,” she said, chuckling as she slipped inside, shutting it behind her just as Magda had.

Even fresh from bed, Costance was a sight to behold. Her red hair was pulled back in a loose chignon and fastened with large, satin ribbon. She herself was donned in a blue velvet peignoir with golden trim and matching sash that highlighted the hourglass curve of her waist.

“I must confess, I was a little worried,” she said in an adorable, sleep-bitten rasp. She was still waking up, bless her. The woman had awoken to see that her partner was missing from his side of the bed, and had taken little time to wait before investigating fully. “The house is never so quiet in the morning.”

She’s made the comment as a light joke, but upon seeing the main master and maid of the house gathered together so close in the study, she suddenly lowered her voice in concern. “Is everything alright?”

Before Scrooge could think of an excuse, Magda was quick to the rescue.

“I was just asking Mr. Scrooge if he wouldn’t mind if a took a bit of a last minute day off,” she said, “I have some personal errands and appointments, and thought it might be easier to take a full day than mince apart various other working days.”

She glanced at Ebenezer, giving him a coy smirk that matched the mischievous slant of her eyes. She looked like a tabby that had just filled its cheeks at the nearest birdcage, and gotten away with it, too.

“Why, I believe that sounds like a capital idea,” Scrooge agreed, clapping an agreeable hand over her puff-sleeved shoulder. “After all, the house will be vacant all day today.”

“It will?” Constance asked, her surprise palpable but pleasant.

“Indeed so,” he said, turning to her, hands reaching out to take one of hers. “I’ve arranged a bit of a … surprise for us today. A surprise outing.”

“Oh, really?” A flush of joy made her freckles pop across her sun-kissed cheeks.

He laughed softly, pleased by her excitement. “I’ve prepared breakfast, and a coach should be here on the hour for us. I-If you’d be so kind as to join me, I would be most honored.”

Magda tried hard to not roll her eyes as Constance enthusiastically agreed, both leaning into a embrace and chaste kiss that Magda had the decency to avert her eyes from.

Of course Constance had agreed to the outing, the maid thought secretly. She had no work that day, and when the happy couple wasn’t at work, they were spending time together in some capacity. Reading in the sitting room together, taking a stroll together, sometimes even rowing out on the Serpentine in Hype Park to bask in the sun and watch the swans skate across the waters.

Today was no different, but he had still kindly asked her if she was free to spend time with him.

Silly man, she thought kindly, though the maternal side of her longed to pull them both into a hug and wish them luck. Especially him.

“I’ll get dressed this instant,” Constance said with a nod. “I won’t be long, promise.”

“I’ll help.”

“Oh, Magda, I thought…”

“I’ve got a moment to spare,” she said lovingly, fluttering to the young woman’s side and giving her a nudge. “Come now, let’s make you look like an absolute vision! I have the perfect dress in mind, as well.”

“But…”

“Please, love. It would be my honor.”

As the carriage pulled up to the house and Scrooge loaded the basket and blanket they needed, he called up the stairs for Magda and Constance to come down.

While they waited, he made small talk with the driver, paid him in advance, and offered him a vague outline of the day’s itinerary. As for the directions, he’d scribed those carefully as well, and even provided a map, though the driver gave him a reassuring look.

“Been doin’ this ‘ob for many a year, Mr. Scrooge,” he said, taking a long drag of his pipe at the end. “I’ve got many maps, compasses, and back-ups of all me back-ups. You and yer lady are safe wit’ me.”

Well, he had hired the best, he reasoned. It seemed the sterling reputation of the driver and business was true, even if the man himself was a little rough around the edges. “Good man. Thank you again. Oh, um…here’s some breakfast for the road.”

Scrooge handed him a slab of cheese and an entire loaf of bread wrapped in a cloth. This excited the driver more than the directions. “Cheers, mate! I’ll take th’ smoothest paths for you and yer lady!”

“Much obliged.”

“Oh, and betw’n you and me, feel free to close those curtains if you lot would pr’fer some alone time, yeah? I can’t hear a peep fro’ where I’m sittin’.”

“…I’ll remember that.”

He would not act on that, but he supposed the gesture was … kind? Thoughtful? It was something, he ultimately decided.

While the conversation with the driver had been interesting in and of itself, all memory of the conversation seemed to fly out of his head as Magda rushed out with Constance on her arm.

As always, Magda met and exceeded expectations by leaps and bounds.

Dressed in a gown of chocolate brown satin with golden-white petticoats shimmering beneath the skirts, Constance stepped carefully down the stone steps of the house, her heels a matching shade of deep coffee. A matching shawl, trimmed with pearly fringe, concealed her shoulders from the morning chill. Her hair was adorned with a white ribbon nestled in a perfect bow in the back, the curls falling in loose spirals around her shoulders.

He noted that she also wore the freshwater pearl earrings and choker that he’d gotten her for her birthday a few months ago. Also, on her right ring finger, a fire opal ring she had inherited from her father blazed brilliantly. She rarely wore the piece, treasuring the item too much to risk losing it.

Magda really had worked her magic.

“Are you sure this isn’t too much?” Constance asked as she plucked at the skirt of her dress. Magda distracted her tentative movements by helping her into a pair of satin gloves, occupying her fingers for a moment. “This dress is beautiful, but is it too much for…um …”

She laughed and glanced at him somewhat bashfully. “Oh … I just realized I never even asked you where we were going.”

Gods, she was lovely, he thought.

“A picnic,” he supplied vaguely, almost breathless as he took in the sight of her. “And no. P-Please don’t change. You look absolutely beautiful…and you’re comfortable, yes?”

“Oh, very comfortable.”

“Then that’s what matters.”

Prudence bounded down the stairs, barking excitedly at the sight of the sleek, cherrywood carriage.

Of course, she would be invited along for the proposal. Why, it was largely because of Prudence that he and Constance had bumped into each other in the first place on that fateful December day, as he’d been in the butcher buying bones for her. As sch, it seemed only right for her to be present on the day that he asked Constance to be a part of his life for the remainder of his days.

Seeming to sense the importance of the occasion, she trotted up to her master and pawed at his leg.

Scrooge chuckled, then opened the door so she could hop in. “Go on, Prudence.”

After an excited spin, she leapt up and instantly made herself comfortable on one of the long, leather-clad benches, just beside the picnic basket and rolled up blanket. The mastiff flopped down and let out a satisfied huff.

Thank goodness he’d sprang for the larger cab, he thought as he surveyed the remaining space.

“We may need to cozy up just a tad for the trip,” Ebenezer warned Constance playfully. She returned an amused look, her smile only broadening when she peeked into the carriage and saw Prudence curled up on the opposite bench.  

After bringing Constance her purse (which contained only her pillbox, a book of poetry she’d been reading, a money clip, and some rouge), Magda then turned her attention to him. She helped Ebenezer slip into his black overcoat, smoothing the fabric as she did so. She also produced his top hat and cane, which she’d pulled from the entryway closet ahead of time.

As she skimmed the lapels of his coat with her fingers to make sure they laid flat and symmetrically, she gave him one last, reassuring stare, the burning resolve in her eyes all the more magnified by the thick lenses on her spectacles.

He took one last deep breath …and nodded.

“Right. T-Time to go.”

Assuming his post at the carriage’s open door, he extended a hand to Constance. Slowly, he helped her mount the step to the cab.

Once she was seated, he slotted himself into the space beside her.

“We’ll be back before sunset!” he called before shutting the door. He gave her one last wave.

“Have fun, you two!” Magda called innocently, stealing a handkerchief from her apron pocket to wave as the driver snapped the reins and the carriage rolled forth across the cobbled roadway. “Be good! I won’t wait up!”

Prudence let out another bark, and Constance leaned out the carriage window to wave excitedly. The maid also saw the woman lose her balance, and Ebenezer’s arms frantically circle her to pull her back to safety.

As soon as the cart was out of sight, Magda was off like a shot back inside. She raced to grab her coat and hat, practically flinging them on her body. The maid didn’t even bother to check her reflection as she shimmied down the strop steps of the house and made her way down Lime Street and into the churning streets of Cornhill. The woman had a few key destinations in mind.

First, she’d traverse Lime Street to a residential neighborhood a few blocks over, where Harry and Hela lived.

Then, she’d wind her way through the alleyways and cobbled roadways until she reached Camden Town.

 The carriage ride out of town lasted all but two hours, but inside the cab, the minutes all but flew by.

The couple shared bites of breakfast (orange peel-flecked scones that he’d practiced in secret for days) and read passages from the small book of poetry Constance had tucked into her purse.

« Mon bras pressait ta taille frêle Et souple comme le roseau; Ton sein palpitait comme l’aile D’un jeune oiseau. »

« Longtemps muets, nous contemplâmes Le ciel où s’éteignait le jour. Que se passait-il dans nos âmes ? Amour! Amour! »

« Comme un ange qui se dévoile, Tu me regardais, dans ma nuit, Avec ton beau regard d’étoile, Qui m’éblouit. »

Ebenezer pronounced the words graciously are carefully, Constance using her French lessons from long past to speak alongside him.

“It has been quite a while since I’ve spoken French,” he admitted, “Not since I was a boy, reading some of the classics for my studies. I fear I’m rusty in the romance languages.”

“You are doing well,” Constance enthused.

Ebenezer knew Constance was fluent In English and Dutch, but Frensh was a … more recreational language for her. A nifty party trick, although it was a vast help in situations just as this, where they crowded over a small book and took great care to read the delicate writing accurately.

“My arm clasped your fragile waist that’s supple as a reed; Your breast beat like the wing Of a young bird.

“In a long silence we contemplated The sky where the day was fading away. What was happening in our souls? Love! Love!

“Like an angel who reveals herself, You looked at me, in my night, With your beautiful star’s gaze, Blinding me with … light.”

A comfortable silence settled over them as the words lingered a beat.

“I do so love that one,” she said with a dreamy, wavering sigh. “Especially the ending.”

“Very beautiful indeed,” Ebenezer husked, deepening his voice to a burr to attract her attention. When she glanced up and saw the smirk upon his visage, seeing only her own reflection in his icy eyes, her cheeks bloomed with pleasant color.

All the while, the sun continued to climb in the sky outside. By the time they near the spot that Ebenezer had directed the driver to, it was nearly midday.

Another turn of the page, and Ebenezer spotted a familiar piece of literature. “Venus and Adonis, by Shakespeare.”

“Oh, that one is wonderful, but quite long,” Constance chuckled.

“Certainly longer than his most famous sonnets,” he said, “Sonnet 29 comes to mind. Shorter … and easier for a man to memorize and recite to his lovely lady.”

His last remark harbored just enough cheekiness for her to wonder how many men he’d witnessed recite the same sonnet over and over across the city during romantic, spring days. Probably dozens, she thought in intrigue and amusement.

“I saw it performed a few summers ago in New York. By a theater troupe in Central Park. They memorized the entire thing – amazingly impressive for such green performers! A duo, in fact.”

It was a tragic poem, of course. It was also an erotic epic. Not necessarily appropriate for the occasion. Still, right as she was about to close the book, he reached out and paused her. With the tap of his finger, he urged her eyes to fall upon a specific passage.

She read:

“Ten kisses short as one, one long as twenty:  

“A summer’s day will seem an hour but short…”

As the words finished leaving her painted lips, he leaned down and placed the gentlest of kisses upon her mouth. In that moment, the sentiment on the parchment manifested into warm, breathing reality.

“Now that,” he said, reaching up and thumbing the curls about her cheeks, “Reminds me of today.”

She blinked slowly. Again, dreamily. “Does it, my Adonis?”

An airy chuckle left him, but his fingers tightened their grip just slightly. He did grip her tight, he held her tight. “With you, the hours blend into beautiful, fleeting moments. Evey second with you feels…healing.”

He thought of yet another line from the poem: “Love comforteth like sunshine after rain.”

A perfect summary, he thought as he leaned in again, kissing the tip of her nose. “My Venus.”

A few precious moments later, the couple heard the driver gently urge his horses to a gentle stop. They obeyed with a few clicks of the man’s tongue, and once they were fully stopped on a well-trodden side path, the driver alerted them of their arrival.

“Splendid,” Ebenezer said, praying his voice didn’t convey the nervousness he felt. “Shall we?”

He opened the door to allow Prudence to jump out (which she eagerly did). As the mastiff busied herself biting at butterflies and rolling in the dust like a chipmunk, Ebenezer stepped out and instantly felt the heat of the sun above them. It was considerably warmer than it had been the morning before.

He shed his hat and coat, leaving them in the carriage with his cane.

Constance followed suit by shedding her shawl, then tilted her head back in bliss as she stepped into the sun. “Mm. Warm.”

Sun was a rarity in England, he noted. It was rare to see the sun or moon in their true glory.

In that moment, she appeared to be drinking in the light, her tanned skin and vibrant hair giving the blazing a star a run for its money in radiance.

“Here we are, lovebirds,” the driver said, giving his horses a pat as they dipped their heads to graze. “Spot to ya likin’, Mr. Scrooge?”

“Very much so. Much obliged.”

Just like before, he reached into the basket and produced some food and drink to help bide the time while they made merry, so to speak.

Surprised and pleased by the next round of gifts, the man took a large bite of a mincemeat pastry from his share before waving the couple off and telling them to “have a bit o’ nanty narking, ya hear! I won’t ‘ell, haha!”

Constance gave Ebenezer a playful grin while he blushed red as a beet.

“T-Thank you, sir,” he mumbled, ushering Constance away with one arm while carrying their picnic basket with the other.

 The air was scented with the sweet fragrance of wildflowers, and the distant melody of birdsong accompanied their amicable conversation as Ebenezer led her up an ambling stone path to the spot he’d picked. Their destination was atop an overlook with a perfect view of the swaying fields for miles around, different patches dotted with clouds of fresh blossoms.

The couple set up their spot, then sat on a blanket spread across the lush grass, surrounded by the serenity of nature. The smog and incessant chatter of the city was long forgotten as they basked in the aroma of sun-warmed wildflowers and relaxed to the melody of the babbling brook nearby.

As they enjoyed a picnic of sandwiches, fruits, and a bottle of sparkling cider, Ebenezer couldn't shake the anticipation bubbling within him. For the entire duration of their outing, he stole glances at Constance. In fact, he would have been hard pressed to remove his gaze from her on any occasion, and especially in this moment and setting. It was a scene he knew he didn’t want to forget for the rest of his days alive, and as he drank in the details of her, he knew he never would.

By the time they’d finished eating, they lounged for a while against the shade of the oak, even making a trip to a nearby stream to dance in the ankle-deep water and splash around a bit. Prudence even followed, running circles in the riverbank under her entire belly and paws were dripping with river water and mud.

When they returned from that, lazily strolling up the hill hand-in-hand, it was the golden hour of sunset.

In the halo of warm light that radiated from the horizon’s dark edge, it was a treat marveling at the way the sunlight played in her hair, making it glow like strands of molten bronze. The way her cornflower eyes glittered like the sea captivated him further.

A moment of silene stretched between them … and with the sun slowly vanishing, he knew the seconds of his opportunity were literally ticking away.

Constance, catching the anxious way Ebenezer fumbled for his coat, glanced over. “Are you alright, love? Are you cold?"

Love. The endearment bolstered his resolve.

“Quite alright,” he said. “In fact, I’ve never been happier.”

Ebenezer took a deep breath, steadying his nerves.

Something touched her expression as she realized when was happening. She didn’t say a word, but her eyes widened almost knowingly, the blue color shining like the isles of Neptune.

Now or never, he thought.

“Constance. The Christmas of my 50th birthday, I…became a changed man. I realized the error of my ways, and became transformed. I realized that I’d wasted much of my life in misery, content to be alone and deprive others, and myself, of happiness. I remember thinking that I would never go back.

“Then, the moment we met, you did the impossible … you transformed my life again. Since then, you've brought … warmth to the coldest corners of my heart, and every day with you feels like a gift. A gift that was almost stolen away by circumstance …”

Stolen away by a past of abuse, falsified medical records, a razor blade, and a man with eyes like the coldest fog.

“As turbulent as the start of our time together was, facing those trials, it made me realize that parting ways from you was never even a consideration. Even if we only remained friends or coworkers, you were always in my future in some capacity. As we continued to court, I stopped imagining you as just a coworker or friend, or even as just a lover. I-I know some might roll their eyes at the ide of a man of my age wanting such pomp and circumstance, but…I do.

“I’ve thought of little else in the past few weeks … hell, honestly, the past few months. What would life without you be like? I … can’t fathom it. Or if I could, I can’t bear the thought of it.”

Sensing the weight of his words, she nodded with a nervous swallow. “A-And I can't imagine mine without you, Ebenezer.”

With a tender smile, Ebenezer reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a small velvet box. The sight of it made Constance's breath catch.

He opened the box to reveal a delicate ring, the sunlight catching on the glimmering diamond in the middle.

“Constance, my angel,” Ebenezer began, his voice filled with emotion, “I-I never thought I’d ask this question of another, but I have to know. I must. W-Would you do me the honor of remaining by my side, in spirit and name? Will you marry me?”

The question hung in the air, and for a moment, the world seemed to pause. His emotions were suspended in stasis as well.

Then, a wave of joy swept over her face, and she nodded, tears of happiness glistening in her eyes.

“I-I will.”

He blinked, huffing out a laugh. “You will.”

“Yes! Ebenezer, a thousand times yes!”

A delighted smile broke across Ebenezer's face as he took the ring from the box. Laughing in equal parts disbelief and bliss, he leaned forward to meet her as she rushed to kiss him.

Prudence, who had been watching from the edge of the blanket, barked in excitement as the two kissed, arms wrapping around each other and holding on tight.

“Oh, thank you,” he praised, lips moving against hers. “I’ll be good to you, my angel. I promise with all my heart.”

“I know you will.” Her tears, warm and fresh, fell upon their laps. “I-I know. Oh, I’ve dreamed of this.”

“You have?”

In tandem, sharing a desire, their raised their hand in tandem to entwine their fingers.

“Y-Yes, and today…it’s been even more perfect than I ever imagined,” she confessed, bumping their noses together as another joyful sob threatened to clench her.

A pause. Then, her fingers gripped his arm firmly, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “It’s just … m-me? Are you certain?”

A redheaded New Yorker of questionable pedigree, former socialite and divorcee, married to a wealthy Englishman and philanthropist. It was certainly an eye-catching combination, he supposed, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Absolutely yes,” he replied, voice breaking at the sight of her tears. He brandished a handkerchief and dabbed them away, pepping her forehead with more kisses all the while. “I’m beyond certain. You have my heart, Connie.”

Gently, he slid the ring onto Constance's finger, sealing their promise beneath the setting sun.

“And you have mine.”

With another kiss, their commitment was sealed.

From afar, the Scrooge manor looked quite vacant. No lights shined from inside, no smoke plumed from the chimney, and no shadows busied themselves beyond the windows. It was almost an uncanny sight.

“Goodness, it looks so ominous from here,” Constance joked, arm-in-arm with her fiancé as the carriage approached the estate. As the sun had dipped below the horizon, and they reentered the scrutinizing eyes of the city limits, they donned all their proper layers.

“It used to always look this dour, I’m shamed to admit,” he said, giving her hand an affectionate pat “We’ll fix that straightaway once we’re indoors. Get a good fire going – well, maybe just some candles. It’s a little warm.”

“Too warm for celebratory glass of wine?”

“Oh, never too warm for that! Especially on such an occasion.”

“I think you’re quite right,” she agreed, eyeing a very muddy Prudence from across the car. She lifted her heeled shoe and gave the mastiff a light tap. “And you need a bath, miss. I don’t think it would be very comfortable to sleep in muddy fur, yes?”

Averting her eyes (as if that made her invisible), she pretended to not hear the woman’s theory. In turn, the couple chuckled at the sight.

The carriage pulled up to the house, right under the light of a gas lamp to provide better visibility. Ebenezer, having redonned his coat and top hat, stepped out with his cane in hand. Then, he helped Constance out. In the process, he glimpsed the sight of the dazzling ring upon her still ungloved hand, and his heart started up again.

The ring also caught the attention of the driver, who let out a whistle. “Oi, hearty congratulations ar’ in or’da to ye both!”

After a few last goodbyes, the driver tipped his hat one last time and wheeled himself away into the foggy night.

There, they stood before his home, arm-in-arm again. He carried the dirty, rolled-up blanket and while carried their now empty basket.

After a glimpse to make sure they were truly alone on the quiet street, they shared a lingering, public kiss. It was the kind that always sent Beryl and her boys reeling when they did it outside the privacy of their bedroom.

As they parted, he offered her a grin and squeeze of the arm.

“Welcome home, Mrs. DoGoode-Scrooge.”

She returned his affection with a gleaming smile of her own. She noted that he’d included her maiden name, her father’s name, in the title. If possible, that sentiment was the final, stone-enforced in the proud, tall tower of certainty.

“It is my honor to bear the name, and have the heart of the man who gave it to me,” she replied.

Giggling like excited teenagers, they shimmied up the stone stairs leading to the massive front door. He fished out the substantial key from his coat pocket and slipped it in, the tumblers of the lock giving way with the same, comforting melody they always had.

They opened the door, expecting the same darkness within that they’d glimpsed from the outside.

Yet, once the door opened, the room lit up as the gas-burning chandelier roared to life. The rest of the wide foyer was decorated with glittering, gold crepe paper and vases bursting with fresh lilies, daisies and sunny daffodils from the flower market.

Friends and family stood shoulder to shoulder around the circumference of the room, clapping and cheering as they came through the door.

The Cratchit children jumped up in greeting from behind one of the chamber’s marble-top tables, and Beryl’s gang of boys cheers from the railed hallway overhead, clapping and cheering as if they’d just watched an amazing stuntman at one of the London fairs.

“Surprise!”

Magda, looking pleased as punch, uncorked a bottle of icy prosecco from the cellar with a swift yank of the corkscrew. “There you are, the two turtledoves!”

Tim, who saw Scrooge as a second father, ran to the man and hugged him. “Congratulations, Mr. Scrooge! You’re gonna be a good husband, I know it!”

He was too overjoyed to be stunned for long, the man’s heart melted as he returned the boy’s hug with a tight embrace of his own. “Thank you, my boy.”

“Congrats, Miss Connie,” the blond boy turned and said sweetly. “You’re going to be a mighty pretty bride.”

She dabbed at the corner of her eyes with her fingertips. “Thank you, Tim.”

“C-Can we see your ring?” Kathy asked timidly, fiddling with the end of one of her braid as she approached.

“Yes, the ring!” Martha echoed excitedly, her chignon bouncing as she danced closer.

Constance nodded and held her hand aloft. Immediately, an audience gathered around her.

“Blimey, girl, that’s a stunner,” Tom Jenkins noted, appraising the gem with a keen eye. “Good job, mate.”

“Oh, it’s positively beautiful, uncle!” Harry agreed, before breaking away to pull the former curmudgeon of a man into a teary bear hug. “I-I never thought I’d see the day! My uncle getting married to a woman he loves! Oh, the way my mother must be smiling now!”

“H-Harry, ow.”

Meanwhile, Bob and Ethel embraced Constance tightly, Ethel pecking her cheek joyfully. “Oh, a wedding! I hope you know that Hela and I would be absolutely enthralled to help, my pet.”

“Indeed,” said woman agreed, her earrings jingling in agreement as she nodded her head. “I know you’ve done this before in New York – getting married I mean, but it’s intimidating to do in a new country! I would be honored to provide the names of those Harry and I worked with and found pleasant. I’m also happy to share a list of those I did not enjoy working with, haha.”

“Oh, that would be very helpful! Thank you both, truly.”

Constance then turned her attention to Magda, smirking and giving out crystal flutes of prosecco to guests.

She paused at Constance, their eyes meeting in a moment of understanding. The redhead flew to embrace her tightly, skirts swinging around her ankles. “This morning. You knew.”

Magda patted the redhead’s back affectionately. “I did, love. I’ve known for a while, in fact.”

“Have you?”

“I knew it the day you came to live with us,” she said, “The day your former husband’s boat left that dock, I knew you’d never leave. I know I’m always right, but I’m extra pleased about it this time.”

She laughed airily, but the way her grip tightened was sincere in the deepness of her gratitude. “Thank you.”

Nodding between happy tears, Ebenezer came behind Constance to lay a delicate hand upon her shoulder. She stepped away at that moment, now wanting to detain Magda for uncomfortably long, and accepted a flute of celebratory bubbly eagerly. She also passed one to Ebenezer, who kissed the top of her hand in thanks.

Errol, Magda’s ballet dancer husband, passed out cider to the young children in small, purple-tinted glasses. He’d also had the good sense to wrap Prudence in a thick pestemal to protect the guests. It would take only one shake for the guests, and wallpaper, to become polka-dotted in pattern.

Once all the glasses were passed out, Ebenezer hoisted his high. Everyone followed, anxious for the former miser’s toast.

“Everyone, to each other,” he said, wrapping an arm around Constance’s waist and glancing down to meet her gaze. “To second chances and new beginnings.”

She then glanced around the room, taking care to make eye contact with each smiling face. Each person who had helped her. Each soul that had believed in her, and her redemption.

“To second chances and new beginnings,” Constance agreed proudly, tapping her glass against his. “And all those who help us find them.”

Thank you to everyone for your support, likes, comments and more: @quill-pen, @crimson-phantom-designs, @thedivinelights, @alolaamii, @bluestarliight, @vixx-ari, @ray-painter, @shipshroom, @akitauma, @blueapplesiren,

I see you and appreciate you! <3

[bluegekk0]

In a modern setting how good would each of the family members be at a fighting game? Also related but not really related but Holly and GG Strive Faust have similar vibes

oh i love those modern setting asks. i've been thinking a lot about a modern au so this is very helpful, thank you

i'll start with fpk. i think he would be pretty bad at them. or, more precisely, i think he'd memorize all the different moves and combos relatively fast, but he'd struggle to put the knowledge into practice. his reaction time is a slower than it used to, so any game that requires very quick reactions or predictions would be difficult for him. and i don't think he'd just mash all the buttons, again, he would memorize the combinations without much trouble, and he'd want to put them to use. but it's very hard for him

grimm, on the other hand, would be a pro. he's exceptionally good at reading others' behavior and psyche, he's had hundreds of years to study them after all. and what this means is that he can read his opponent very quickly, which together with his general mechanical skill in video games means that he's able to predict their next move and react accordingly, nearly without flaw. he can use it in other ways, not just to defeat them. if he's playing against fpk, he'll go easy on him and intentionally play poorly to make him feel better about himself

but usually he's a scary opponent, which, of course, infuriates hornet every time they play together. she's good at video games, very good, but she tends to rage very often. she wants to win, but against grimm she finds it impossible. and because she's petty like that, she doesn't want to give him the satisfaction of beating her, so she'll keep trying until she either gets too angry to play, or until grimm lets her win on purpose (and if she finds out he did that, she gets even more annoyed). but generally she's really good at fighting games. she's smart, she knows the most optimal combos, and unlike fpk she's able to react in time. her rage is what usually brings her down, she gets too tilted to play properly

holly would be decent at fighting games. not too good, but not awful either. they understand the basics and can do quite well, but they don't find the concept of fighting as engaging as the others do, so they don't bother learning all the combos and strategies. they're more of a stardew valley type player, they prefer to relax in their games as opposed to beating opponents for a dopamine rush. whenever the family plays, they tend to just watch

zote sucks at these games. he mashes all the buttons and then starts acting like he's a pro if he manages to get a lucky win. he refuses to listen to tips and believes he knows better. on the upside, he doesn't give up, which is quite admirable. he may be bad at it, but he still keeps going. i think it would be hilarious if he ended up actually beating grimm once thanks to his unpredictable, random playstyle. i can already imagine grimm's genuinely surprised face, and hornet tossing the controller and leaving the room, cussing as she walks away

lewk is too young to get any good at games like this, but i think he would be very interested. grimm would definitely let him practice and teach him his secrets, though i think the fact that lewk is still a baby and barely understands it would be mildly disappointing to him. his dreams of teaching his offspring to be a fighting game pro will have to wait, unfortunately. though lewk is smart and definitely has the potential. he would definitely love to watch the adults play, maybe he could be the overly excited commentator of the family hahaha

---

as for the second part, i sadly can't comment on this since i haven't played any of the gg games, but after skimming through the wiki page yeah i can see some similarities!

[sealer-of-wenkamui]

Danzo - 12, 23, 50 for the character ask? 😊

My beautiful doll ❤️

For favorite character asks

12. If you could write effortlessly and as much as you wanted, what story (s) would you write for this character?

I wish I did have any practice with writing cause I’d want to write about her time in Shimousa directly after being repaired by Limbo, and explore her inner thoughts as he intentionally gives her orders intended to hurt her as much as he can, and messes around inside her head. Her telling herself she’s just a doll meant to be used by him but actually being bothered by his actions.

I’d also like to rewrite the middle/end of the Heian-kyo chapter to be focused on her like it should have been, and I’d definitely include a noncon scene with Limbo’s bugs cause I can’t believe they didn’t take advantage of those. It would be so easy to make it a proper conclusion to her arc and her breaking free of his control and fully coming to accept her humanity (cause she still tends to dismiss her own feelings as inconsequential cause she’s a puppet)

And the other I’ve discussed before is a scenario after she’s summoned to Chaldea where she breaks down and Limbo is the only one with the specialized knowledge required to repair her so she’s left with no choice but to let him mess with her body again

23. Has this character permanently altered or impacted your psyche in a way you won’t forget?

I’ve known her less than a year and already I think the big impact she’s had on me is she got me to fully realize just how much I love dolls? Danzou was the final push I needed to get a bjd and I’m even having my first one look like her ❤️

50. Link your fav song, playlist, aesthetic board, fan-fiction, reference pile, personal artwork, analysis post, meme, headcanon, or quote for this character. Whichever one (s) you are most comfortable with!

For fics- rhysgore's "dutch wife" (its the sole english LimDan fic and REALLY GOOD, its Danzou pov and 2nd person which I don't see much, but i find it adds to the creepiness. I love their descriptions of how her doll body works as well as her thoughts)

綻ぶ蝕甚 by 遠野ラーテル I don't know who else can actually read this one, but i can't not list it cause I constantly think about it. Great Danzou character study focused on her relationship with Limbo, the first half being in Shimousa where she's obedient but finds herself dwelling on things like the girl he mutilated for parts to use in her. And the second half is her Servant self summoned to Chaldea being haunted in daydreams by him without fully being able to remember, in contrast to the first half she's much more openly distressed. Sfw but dripping in eroticism, and they capture this very distinct unsettling atmosphere between them, and don't hold back when it comes to his cruelty and Weirdness about her.

It has a lot of great imagery too, this is a piece i did of her based on it

Okay i gotta share other great art of her like THIS that i commissioned from a friend who draws excellent gore and I adore her expression so much ❤️❤️❤️

This comic on pixiv (summary cause its in JP- after being summoned to Chaldea, Douman confesses to having all his memories from before, and Danzou confronts him, demanding to know what he's plotting, saying she does not trust him. He claims he's not and mocks her for not warning her son (who he directly threatened in her interlude) and the master of chaldea if she believes he's such a threat.)

And this piece which i think is one of the first i saw of her and I think about it a lot.. Her and Limbo's relationship summed up in one image...

WAIT how could i forget, literally anything by the artist 花たれ

[crystalhellers]

The Ultimate Guide to Sustainable Weight Loss

These Bloom CBD Gummies posts will help you to learn all of the most salient points of blood sugar levels so that you do not ruin your ideal blood pressure. Supposedly, take it easy and drink a glass of tea. Bloom CBD Gummies is almost perfect. Permit me ask you this point blank. I try to locate extra cash for Bloom CBD Gummies. Here are the true facts. Nevertheless, I admit it, I'm not well educated. I suppose I've detailed this for you correctly. Your Bloom CBD Gummies may be determined by the quality of Bloom CBD Gummies if this could be more awesome. Do you want to resign from looking to be horrified? Bloom CBD Gummies is really out of the ordinary. I also have several add-ons as well to Bloom CBD Gummies. I have gotten Bloom CBD Gummies, but still have to get my bearings from Bloom CBD Gummies but it's doubtful, even if that isn't so.

Bloom CBD Gummies might permit you to outperform your competitors. I will show you several examples of Bloom CBD Gummies below. I am still waiting for some answer from those wingnuts. This is a freely available routine to performing with Bloom CBD Gummies. It really doesn't get any easier than this. This is what you might not expect from Bloom CBD Gummies. Bloom CBD Gummies now seems to have passed the tipping point. This is true of most of the stories you hear about using Bloom CBD Gummies to get lost in the shuffle. Do you know how to repair a broken Bloom CBD Gummies? Believe you me, "If you can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen." It is my mess. You'll find that I'm rather resourceful. I should have actually wound up this article right now. Tell me, which choice looks better?

I'm sure a good many of you will sense of Bloom CBD Gummies differently.

Bloom CBD Gummies is a practical formula to save you money for blood sugar levels. I'm certain there's a logical explanation for Bloom CBD Gummies and you should give it a go because I guess you'll be glad you did. I'm highly sophisticated when it relates to Bloom CBD Gummies. In that case, I'd recommend you do that. That is a smooth cut and paste response. Bloom CBD Gummies has established support. Come what may, "Make hay while the sun shines." I was about to nod off. Bloom CBD Gummies is really critical to me. Haven't you? Bloom CBD Gummies is all powerful. I don't actually have a motive for it. Nevertheless, I'll bite. First point you'll need to know is where I am coming from with this article. You can locate forums this relate to the topic of Bloom CBD Gummies. Please study every in detail so that you know how to use Bloom CBD Gummies.

Bloom CBD Gummies will require dedication on your part. It situation is somewhat artificial and partially maintained by Bloom CBD Gummies. Goodbye for now. I can't make that short, you want to hear it all. Here's a no brainer. So, my playmate sometimes mentions, "Look before you leap." They are should be recommending Bloom CBD Gummies. I am all bordering on Bloom CBD Gummies and I'm still undecided on that.

I've known this as this relates to Bloom CBD Gummies for a few years now. I would sell that dog before the next disappointment. Too bad Bloom CBD Gummies doesn't work really well. I am not a big fan of Bloom CBD Gummies either. I'd like to make you a promise. What would be their reaction to Bloom CBD Gummies? novices are constantly contacting me by email looking for Bloom CBD Gummies. All roads lead to Bloom CBD Gummies.

Bloom CBD Gummies

Bioheal CBD Gummies

[boop-le-snoot]

cupid carries a gun

masterlist • taglist & faq

dark!Bruce Banner x named!Reader. Rated R.

Dr. Banner is a serial killer known as the Doctor and Bailey has his soulmark. He escapes imprisonment and meets his soulmate. ~2,2k words. Serial killer fluff??

[no y/n, no 'you', no reader description, race/age/body type neutral, only first name]

This is more of a concept I wrote in an hour than an actual fic. I think it would make a good multi-chapter, but really, my hands are full now and I just needed to get this weird dream off my chest. Yes, I had a dream he was a serial killer and I was his soulmate 💀🖐🏻 I need to ease up on true crime shows istg...

St. John's was suffering a nasty collective psychosis. That would be the only logical explanation Bailey is willing to accept for the jittery, jerky way everybody is behaving. Some of it could be attributed to the armed guards roaming the halls and scaring the patients - but in America, a gun slung over the shoulder shouldn't invoke such a reaction from people.

Only select few know what these people are there for, anyways. Most hospital population is clueless, only vaguely perceiving the sense of dread those harbouring the knowledge seem to carry around. People are easily scared - the thought doesn't leave Bailey's head her whole shift.

She, however, knows exactly what is happening. She's good at her job, brilliant even, nerves made of purest steel and bedside manner perfectly compassionate and tender. It doesn't come as a surprise that she is the one that got chosen to handle the problematic, uncooperative patients.

The bar is high, and this time - neigh impossible. A man so dangerous, so volatile, it required the sheriff to dispatch their town's squadron of special forces - not that was anything but a slight setback for the Doctor. The halls of this hospital will be forever marred with their blood, will forever be haunted by the echoes of their screams abruptly cutting off with a wet squelch.

Bailey thought she'd done her part to protect the innocents. Her colleagues, young women just like her (they're not, Bailey's mind whispers), all safely locked away in a storage closet for the cops to find. There are no windows and He won't see or hear them... If they're smart.

There he is, the man everybody is savagely afraid of. He is everything and nothing she had imagined - Doctor Bruce Banner is on the shorter side, stocky and sickly pale in his hospital issue pajamas, the bluish tint to his skin contrasted by dark crimson stains of blood on the rancid green cotton of his clothes.

The axe in his hands is held firmly but clumsily - Bailey's sure it wouldn't have been his weapon of choice should he had been given one. A choice. She swallowed the unease that spread all over her determination like mold, seeing his eyes, wild and crazy, land on the crook of her arm - where his mark laid, bright red and angry, as if it had been carved into her flesh mere days ago.

"Are you, perhaps, in need of a nurse, doctor Banner?" Bailey inquired softly, fingertips shaking, as the man crossed the space between them with short, powerful strides. The woman's stance widened, involuntary shivers running through her bones at the unexpected tenderness coming from him - Dr. Banner's palms gently wrapped around her arm, warm, chapped lips touching the angry, red soulmark near the crook of her elbow.

"It's been so long since I had a nurse," the man's mutter was barely audible. His eyes, the warmest brown she'd ever seen, met Bailey's wide, shining ones, for her to discover no trace of the madness she was told should be there. Bailey smiled.

As the hospital building grew smaller in the rear view mirror, so did Bailey's anxiety, paving way to excitement and muted curiosity. Her mother always had told that fate had a way of intervening when it was needed - and her mom had oftentimes taken up the role onto herself, moving them out of the state when Bailey's soulmark began to appear on dead people's bodies, burned or cut into skin as a signature. Bailey was not old enough to understand what it meant, back then, but she'd always been a clever girl.

With her first mobile device, she figured out why her mother strictly prohibited her from speaking about it, why her mother always kept a stash of large bandaids to cover it should Bailey be required to remove her long-sleeve shirt.

Only Bailey's physician knew. She'd expected terror, disgust - or even pity, but Dr. Strange always kept his mouth and eyes shut. As Bailey grew older, blossomed into a fine young woman, she thought she saw envy leak into his chiseled features - but Dr. Strange was as quiet and cynical as ever.

As long as nobody tried to separate them, it would be fine. A small smile stretched her plush lips, hand squeezing the one holding hers with giddiness creeping into her youthful features. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed an expression of curious tranquility on Dr. Banner's- Bruce's face as his eyes stayed firmly on the road as the radio crackled static in-between songs.

"Penny for your thoughts?" The man she'd grown to crave and fear, his salt and pepper curls bouncing with every pothole the car hit; his warm hand, larger than hers by a stretch, provided comfort she hadn't known she needed.

"Where to, doc?" The woman couldn't hold back the anticipation. She wanted to hold him, to be close - closer than her small, cramped cheap car allowed them to be.

"I have some friends waiting for me," the man announced, as if he hadn't spent the last five years in a maximum security prison. Not that it mattered to Bailey - but knowing there was no way back from this, Bruce's so-called friends became a point of doubt to the young woman. The doctor noticed it, his responding smile both dangerous and comforting, all sharp canines and moist lips. "You know them, baby. Dr. Strange is a colleague of mine and Tony Stark is a great friend."

Bailey's eyebrows rose, mild disbelief caught somewhere in her trachea as she attempted to clear her throat. Her family physician and the businessman rumoured to be the largest crime boss of their side of the pond. Suddenly, Strange's long glances and penetrating stares acquired a new meaning, a sense of indignation seeping into Bailey's newly found joy. "And he never said anything," the longing, the countless nights spent studying every publicly available material on Dr. Banner, the killer surgeon that terrorised the Tri-State area burned acrid in her chest.

"He told everything to me," Bruce's remark stung if only from the fact that he'd known about her all along. "Who, do you think, pushed for your transfer to St. John's?" Bruce's smile glinted a little wicked in the meager light of passing-by streetlights as the evening sun simmered down to a rest below the horizon. "I don't actually have cancer," the second remark was more optimistic, spoken hopefully, with another gentle squeeze to her hand.

Bailey puffed out a breath she didn't know she was holding. The puzzle pieces slowly started to arrange themselves, revealing a bigger picture than the one before. She wanted to be mad - mad at Stephen, for not saying anything; mad at Bruce, for getting himself caught years prior. And the anger at her own mother, for taking away her right to stand by her soulmate, for all the countless fights and nights spent locked up in her room.

Bailey had been treated like a monster as soon as he soulmark showed up - and after so much time spent trying to show she wasn't one, perhaps, it was time to face the truth. Perhaps, it was time to show them how much of a monster she could be, if they were so unhappy before.

Gravel flew under the wheels of Bailey's beaten up Toyota Corolla, sending little pebbles to bang noisily against the bumper and the stone flower beds surrounding the driveway to a large two-story mansion. Two cars stood in from of it with two men leaning each against their own vehicle.

The shorter figure was well-dressed, suit obviously bespoke and expensive, sunglasses reflecting the headlights of her Toyota even from a distance away. The taller figure stood out with familiarity, a lit cigarette freely dangling between the finger of his gesturing hand - Dr. Strange and his long, sculpted legs, Bailey could recognise even from a mile away.

Bruce parked, killing the engine and exiting the car with a free, lopsided grin carelessly thrown in Bailey's direction. Fumbling with the lock of her seatbelt, the woman's eyes latched onto the figure of her soulmate eagerly embracing the shorter man, their reunion evidently long-awaited and happy. Stephen's coarse laugh penetrated the interior of the car as the wacky passenger side seatbelt finally let Bailey free.

Three pairs of eyes bore into her body still wearing the scrubs from the hospital - one laughing, Strange was amused; one curious - none other than Tony Stark and his shameless smirk had made an appearance at their first getaway destination; and Bruce, looking so damn proud and lovesick. The grin tugged at Bailey's lips as the presence of the other men barely registered in her elevetaed emotional state.

"Damn, Brucie-bear, lucky you," Tony Stark wolf-whistled, clapping the doctor on the shoulder and receiving a fond eyeroll in return. Those two really were good friends. "Well, I won't hold you two back from getting to know each other better," Stark wiggled his eyebrows salaciously. "We can talk business tomorrow," with that, Stark waltzed over to Bailey, snatching the keys to her car out of her hands with a quick flick of his wrist. "Can't have a car allegedly containing a runaway prisoner on my property, now can I? Don't worry, babycakes, my people will take care of it. Bruce is family. You better treat him well, or else," the river of words flowed from Tony's mouth, causing the surprised Bailey to simply freeze in place and withstand his rambling, surrounded by the smell of whiskey and Stark's expensive cologne.

Despite his easy tone and the relaxed demeanor, Bailey knew a dangerous man when saw one. Tony Stark was not to be fucked with. "Yeah," she mumbled, scampering for the trunk to take out the duffle bag she carried around everywhere - just in case. Just in case her serial-killing, incarcerated-for-life soulmate would somehow found his way to her.

Tony looked at the spectacle with amusement. "You won't need your ID, sweetheart. All of that is going to be taken care of, don't worry your pretty little head about it."

"Duly noted," Bailey couldn't help the annoyed frown at Tony's frivolousness. Her government ID was the last thing on her mind. She wasn't stupid, she knew her mother would go to the cops as soon as she saw the news. "I have my own business to attend to. Might need a hand," the realization came with the dull thud of the trunk being slammed shut.

Tony's eyebrows rose; Bruce approached her with caution, wrapping an arm around her waist from behind. "Is it urgent?"

"Her mother knows about their connection," Strange piped up, glowing ember of the cigarette flying somewhere over the car. The sound of a lighter followed immediately, another dot of shiny red standing out in the twilight. "Don't worry, Bailey, she's detained and sedated for the time being," he offered with a crooked smirk, nearly no trace of the quiet man who bandaged her boo-boos when she was a child.

"You planned this," Bailey observed, fighting the dread crawling up her spine. The realization - she will never step back, will never be able to escape this life - set in. She was unprepared, having acted on a whim, prepared to live on the run but not within an arm's reach of her previous life yet unable to resume it.

"A long time ago," Strange nodded. "You always were a clever girl, Bailey. It is delightful to finally you where you belong," he smiled at Bruce in earnest.

Bailey wondered what else was going on in the sleepy town of hers. What kind of atrocities were committed daily under her nose, by the very people she knew and trusted. There was so much evil in this world.

But not Bruce. He could never be evil, even as he cut the hearts out of the men that had been treating those around them as objects. Bruce merely made them what they should've been; the greed, the infidelity - what use did those men have for their hearts? The Doctor was merciful and true: he never caused his patients undue pain and always, always left them in a state they were true to themselves. It wasn't his fault so many of his patients were heartless beasts for men.

Those clever hands, the same hands that brought the world at his feet, brought Bailey at his - voluntarily so. Their bodies hot, impatient for each other, with their blood singing a song of lust and longing, both of them hidden from the world by the heavy velvet curtains of Tony's estate - it was hellfire in heaven.

No amount of time too long as Bruce's teeth closed around Bailey's jugular, sinking into the flesh tenderly, all the while her nails penetrated the skin of his back; both drew blood, content to drown in it and wash their sins away with it. Heaven and Hell were merely words for the two, anyway.

Bruce Banner taglist:

@couldntbedamned @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @pilloclock @sapphicnoodle69

[alittlefrenchtree]

Here it iiiis! Not the tiny horse but the last chapter of the first book of the first book (it makes sense somehow). The One and Holy ⚡️

✨Chapter 22✨

This is a chapter I’ve been waiting for since I’ve started the book, which means the build of the story is really well made for me. Even the setting, Paul sitting with his mother but not feeling very different than if he was alone, since he’s mentally so far away, with the hutment, the desert and the night…. so perfect. Reading it I was so impatient to just turn to the next page, I purposely take a break so sit with this first part and digest it as it should and deserve to be digested.

Let’s start by saying I have a lot (a looooot) of expectations and crazy high ones with how this whole chapter is going to be convert on screen. The ambiance of the setting is so good and since most of the "action" is happening inside Paul’s head it’s not going to be easy, both with how it’s going to be filmed and how Timmy is going to act. This is not something we’ve seen him done before and I wonder if he has it in him. It’s definitely going to be an interesting challenge, one of the kind that doesn’t come very often in life (if not ever) and I’m already very proud of him for trying. And I can’t wait to hear him talk about it, and how he did it. I hope lots of people are going to make him ramble about this particular scene (Josh please, 3hrs of podcast are required here. Thank you.).

There are a few images I particularly want to see on screen, such as:

and this:

and this: (i mean is it p💛rn? because it sounds like p💛rn to me.)

and this, even if it has less to do with how Timmy is going to act and more about how it'll be shown on screen:

I'm actually delighted because Paul is giving me stuff I was expecting from the character. When he's looking for sorrow inside him as it's expected from him and finding nothing, or finding that he can stop it and put it aside to examine it later... It's something I find very relatable and that I would have found even more relatable when I was Paul's age. I'm not sure how it works exactly for him though. Because of these two parts:

and

(yes I'm also triggered but the typo but let's ignore it)

My guess is that something shifted at some point through the chapter and allow him to access this mourning phase but I'm not sure I can pinpoint it (yet?). It'll be something interesting to study and to make theories about.

He's extremely touching in this chapter. There are a couple of lines that made me go aaaw Paul 😭❤️ Like this one:

Paul heard his mother's grief and felt the emptiness within himself. I have no grief thought. Why? Why? He felt the inability to grieve as a terrible flaw.

You know I like to think of every piece of art/creativity as part of a gigantic conversation through time and I feel like this part of Paul is somehow in a conversation with Elio and his father in his home office. They're both in this distress state regarding of grieving, one being overwhelmed with too much of it and not knowing what to do with it, and the other one needing it and not knowing where or how to find it. It's cute, imagine the both of them talking about it.

This one as well:

And now he saw that he had a wealth of data few such minds ever before had encompassed. But this made the empty place within him no easier to bear. He felt that something must shatter.

My poor baby boy 💔

The chapter is so difficult to take in when you're trying to connect with Paul's feelings and mood. He has these very hard words towards himself like freak and monster and he panics, not understanding what's going on, and at the same time knowing his mother was aware to some extend of what he was supposed to become and he's mad at her and at the same same time there is all this infinite knowledge pouring on him and drastically changing him second by second. And then the mindset in which he ends up is so interesting. I'm not sure how I feel about him being something else (thank you Oliver Queen), because I liked the Kwisatz Haderach concept very much but there are too many sentences for me to not be hyped right away. Paul's answering to Jessica's thoughts as she was saying them out loud is 💦, saying stuff like "They thought they were reaching for me. But I'm not what they expected, and I've arrived before my time. And they don't know it." and like "I'm something unexpected." and "You couldn't possibly know. You won't believe it until you see it." is 💦💦 but, mostly, mostly, the image of the seed. I love it so much. I'm a seed. I don't receive it as something necessarily positive. Like all the futures he's able to see, the seed can grow into anything, good or bad or both. Totally something tattoo material 🖤

About the little sister... Still not convinced. Obviously she exists enough to have a name but it doesn't mean much since Paul can see all versions of all futures now. Who knows in which one we will walk. He could very much know the name of a never born child who happened to exists in another version of reality. Still not sure what part she'll take if she does exists. A Knife apparently?

First part general notes:

I liked it a lot. It's a good introduction for the universe and for an epic tale. If anything, it gets me even more expectations for the rest. I guess I could ask for even for details? More pages, slower narration? I wouldn't mind at all. With an universe of that richness, I want to bask so much in it that I would want to throw my money for overpriced merchandising reproduction without blinking twice. Maybe I miss a bit of that for now. Otherwise, I like what I'm seeing right now. I'm just crossing fingers for the plot to remain good all the way through and for the characters to stay interesting. But my god do I have crazy, crazy high expectations for the movie now. Tbh, I'm not sure they'll even be met, since movies rarely match books and books are mostly highly superior. But I'm keeping faith and trust and hopefully we'll end up with something good, or good enough. Even if we take the Timmy factor aside, I'm loving this Dune journey so far. Can't wait to see what's next 🌔💛

[erin-hart]

“We can now read the report on COVID-19 that terrified every head of state from Boris Johnson to Donald Trump to the dictator of El Salvador so much that they ordered people to stay in their houses after lax attitudes in the beginning.

Here's a brief rundown...

The COVID-19 response team at Imperial College in London obtained what appears to be the first accurate dataset of infection and death rates from China, Korea, and Italy. They plugged those numbers into widely available epidemic modeling software and ran a simulation: what would happen if the United States did absolutely nothing -- if we treated COVID-19 like the flu, went about business as usual, and let the virus take its course?

Here's what would happen: 80% of Americans would get the disease. 0.9% of them would die. Between 4 and 8 percent of all Americans over the age of 70 would die. 2.2 million Americans would die from the virus itself.

It gets worse. Most people who are in danger of dying from COVID-19 need to be put on ventilators. 50% of those put on ventilators still die, but the other 50% live. But in an unmitigated epidemic, the need for ventilators would be 30 times the number of ventilators in the United States. Virtually no one who needed a ventilator would get one. 100% of patients who need ventilators would die if they didn't get one. So the actual death toll from the virus would be closer to 4 million Americans -- in a span of 3 months. 8-15% of all Americans over 70 would die.

How many people is 4 million Americans? It's more Americans than have died all at once from anything, ever. It's the population of Los Angeles. It's four times the number of Americans who died in the Civil War...on both sides combined. It's two-thirds as many people as died in the Holocaust.

Americans make up 4.4% of the world's population. So if we simply extrapolate these numbers to the rest of the world -- now we're getting into really fuzzy estimates, so the margin of error is pretty great here -- this gives us 90 million deaths globally from COVID-19. That's 15 Holocausts. That's 1.5 times as many people as died in World War II, over 12 years. This would take 3-6 months.

Now, it's unrealistic to assume that countries wouldn't do ANYTHING to fight the virus once people started dying. So the Imperial College team ran the numbers again, this time assuming a "mitigation" strategy. A mitigation strategy is pretty much what common sense would tell us to do: America places all symptomatic cases of the disease in isolation. It quarantines their families for 14 days. It orders all Americans over 70 to practice social distancing. This is what you've seen a lot of people talking about when they say we should "flatten the curve": try to slow the spread of the disease to the people most likely to die from it, to avoid overwhelming hospitals.

And it does flatten the curve -- but not nearly enough. The death rate from the disease is cut in half, but it still kills 1.1 million Americans all by itself. The peak need for ventilators falls by two-thirds, but it still exceeds the number of ventilators in the US by eight times, meaning most people who need ventilators still don't get them. That leaves the actual death toll in the US at right around 2 million deaths. The population of Houston. Two civil wars. One-third of the Holocaust. Globally, 45 million people die: 7.5 Holocausts, 3/4 of World War II. That's what happens if we use common sense: the worst death toll from a single cause since the Middle Ages.

Finally, the Imperial College team ran the numbers a third time, this time assuming a "suppression" strategy. In addition to isolating symptomatic cases and quarantining their family members, they also simulated social distancing for the entire population. All public gatherings and most workplaces shut down. Schools and universities close. (Note that these simulations assumed a realistic rate of adherence to these requirements, around 70-75% adherence, not that everyone follows them perfectly.) This is basically what we are seeing happen in the United States today.

This time it works! The death rate in the US peaks three weeks from now at a few thousand deaths, then goes down. We hit, but don't exceed (at least not by very much), the number of available ventilators. The nightmarish death tolls from the rest of the study disappear; COVID-19 goes down in the books as a bad flu instead of the Black Death.

But here's the catch: if we EVER relax these requirements before a vaccine is administered to the entire population, COVID-19 comes right back and kills millions of Americans in a few months, the same as before. The simulation does indicate that, after the first suppression period (lasting from now until July), we could probably lift restrictions for a month, followed by two more months of suppression, in a repeating pattern without triggering an outbreak or overwhelming the ventilator supply. If we staggered these suppression breaks based on local conditions, we might be able to do a bit better. But we simply cannot ever allow the virus to spread throughout the entire population in the way other viruses do, because it is just too deadly. If lots of people we know end up getting COVID-19, it means millions of Americans are dying. It simply can't be allowed to happen.

How quickly will a vaccine be here? Already, medical ethics have been pushed to the limit to deliver one. COVID-19 was first discovered a few months ago. Last week, three separate research teams announced they had developed vaccines. Yesterday, one of them (with FDA approval) injected its vaccine into a live person, without waiting for animal testing. Now, though, they have to monitor the test subject for fourteen months to make sure the vaccine is safe. This is the part of the testing that can't be rushed: the plan is to inoculate the entire human population, so if the vaccine itself turned out to be lethal for some reason, it could potentially kill all humans, which is a lot worse than 90 million deaths. Assuming the vaccine is safe and effective, it will still take several months to produce enough to inoculate the global population. For this reason, the Imperial College team estimated it will be about 18 months until the vaccine is available.

During those 18 months, things are going to be very difficult and very scary. Our economy and our society will be disrupted in profound ways. Worst of all, if the suppression policies actually work, it will feel like we are doing all this for nothing, because the infection and death rates will be very low. It's easy to get people to come together in common sacrifice in the middle of a war. It's very hard to get them to do so in a pandemic that looks invisible precisely because suppression methods are working. But that's exactly what we're going to have to do.”

The entire report is below...

https://www.imperial.ac.uk/media/imperial-college/medicine/sph/ide/gida-fellowships/Imperial-College-COVID19-NPI-modelling-16-03-2020.pdf

[dorothydelgadillo]

7 Essential Content Marketing Apps & Tools I Can't Live Without for 2019

Who has two thumbs, speaks limited French, and struggled to get out of bed for this first post-holiday morning back at work?

Don't get me wrong -- it's only been in recent years that I wake up each day feeling hashtag blessed about the fact that I get to do what I'm passionate about for a living alongside some of the smartest people I have ever known.

Still, I'm dragging this morning.

And my to do list is a mile long. 

Because, fun fact, pillar pages don't write themselves. Nor do whitepapers, blog articles, or case studies.

This surprises me, given how every other article I read recently has to do with the rise of Skynet as a reality; you'd think they'd have figured out how to do all of that by now, right?

Just kidding, I love robots -- from a distance. 

Plus, hyperbolic posturing about the robot apocalypse aside, there are a lot of ways technology and automation have already transformed the way I map out, write, and produce the content for a lot of our strategies. 

(And I'm not even counting HubSpot Marketing Hub.) 

Since neither content (or pimpin') is easy, I'm going to share the apps and tools I use every single day -- and consider indispensable -- to produce a good portion content you interact with on this website. 

App #1: GatherContent

If you've ever worked with me on a project, you know I live and die by GatherContent, a centralized content creation, production, and collaboration platform I can only assume was created by Zeus from on-high -- it is that magical.

I was first introduced to GatherContent years ago by Jessie-Lee Nichols (now IMPACT's Design Supervisor) when we were working on a website project together. 

I'm resistant to change -- especially when it comes to someone trying to "evolve" or "improve" my processes, but Jessie-Lee was persistent. 

"You'll spend less time chasing down approvals, trying to find drafts in Google Docs, and digging through your emails," she said, zeroing in on my biggest challenges. "Everything is one place, with real-time visibility into the status of every single piece of content in a project."

Lo and behold, she was right. Flash forward to now, there is no project I work on that doesn't leverage GatherContent.  

From within GatherContent, I can work with multiple collaborators, give access to my higher-ups so they can see the status of a project or single piece of content at any time -- whether it's 3 a.m. or 3 p.m., they don't need to email, call, or smoke signal me to find out the status or deadline of a piece of content.

For writers, I can leave comments and assign out changes. Additionally, either the writer or I can overwrite whatever content is there. There is a rollback feature that allows someone to see what changes have been made without whoever made the changes having to highlight them or call them out.

Finally, GatherContent keeps me sane. It isn't free -- although the pricing is very reasonable, especially if your a small business. (If you're an agency dealing with lots of clients or content production, you'll need to be smart about how many projects you set up.) 

But what it saves me in time, content project administration, and sanity makes it worth it to me. I'm infinitely more productive with it, and I would consider it the most important tool I use. 

I also can't even imagine managing all of the different projects I oversee without it. It's life-changing. 

Of course, if you're one of those folks who loves searching through endless Google Docs and emails, and spending more time calling and emailing about content projects instead of actually doing the work, you probably won't need it.

As I mentioned, GatherContent isn't free. It starts at $83 per month, with lots of options for organizations.

  App #2: Bear

I have a confession to make: I absolutely hated writing when I was younger.

In fact, one time when I was eighth grade, I turned in an essay where the last paragraph was the same sentence copied and pasted over and over again, just so I could meet the minimum word count requirement without having to put more effort into it. (My teacher didn’t appreciate my sense of humor.)

Obviously, I've come around since then.

But my change of heart only came about because eventually I realized that (a) I was good at writing, and (b) it wasn’t the act of writing I despised so much, but rather I hated the cluttered and distracting writing experience of Microsoft Word.

Enter stage left, Bear. 

Bear (available only for iPhone, iPad, and Mac) is an app that's all about empowering users to "write beautifully." And it does that so very well.

It's gotten to the point where everything I write -- IMPACT blogs, content projects for clients, freelance projects, etc. -- always passes through an initial rough drafting stage within Bear.  

In addition to comprehensive and lengthy content creation, Bear can also be used as an Evernote-esque notes application, making it quite versatile. 

Bear is free, but if you splurge on the paid version ($1.49 per month or $14.99 per year), you can enjoy custom themes, syncing across multiple devices, and exporting capabilities. 

App #2: Hemingway

Whether you’re a seasoned content creator or you’re a new kid on the inbound block, you undoubtedly know how hard it is to write and edit your own work -- and not just because you are too close to your writing to gauge its quality.

Thankfully, someone created Hemingway.

In addition to being one of my favorite authors -- as well as one of the best characters in Woody Allen’s Midnight in Paris -- Hemingway forces you to evaluate the readability of your work.

It tells you what grade level your work reads at, and it scans your work for sentence complexity, passive voice, and overuse of adverbs. 

While you have the option to write directly in the Hemingway app itself, I find these kinds of mark-ups to be very distracting while I am trying to form my ideas for the first time.

Instead, I usually type of my first draft in Bear and then copy it over to Hemingway, when I'm ready to switch my brain over to editing mode. (But how you choose to use this app is entirely up to you!)

You can use Hemingway for free through your web browser at www.hemingwayapp.com, or you can download the desktop version for $9.99.

App #3: Grammarly for Google Docs

OK, Grammarly isn't new, but you know what is? Grammarly for Google Docs. 

It's not a separate tool from standard Grammarly. It's just a new feature that is so freaking valuable, I have to call it out separately, on the off chance that those of you who are familiar with the product haven't heard about this.

For those unfamiliar with Grammarly, however, it is a standalone desktop and web app that also has a Google Chrome extension that scans your writing in various places across the web -- or as input by you -- and provides editorial suggestions.

It's not perfect, but it has saved my patootie more times than I care to admit; especially when I'm rushing through emails early in the morning. 

Unfortunately, as with any technology, there were a few blind spots for the tool -- places online where Grammarly could not go. The most annoying of which was Google Docs, one of the most widely-used content collaboration word processing apps out there.

Even though I spent the early part of this article swearing off Google Docs for GatherContent or Bear, I still use it a lot. 

For example, sometimes I want a word processing application where I can also fiddle around with images and more visual formatting that GatherContent and Bear purposefully avoid in their feature set. 

Finally, Grammarly made the announcement we've all been waiting for -- Grammarly for Google Docs was now in beta for those using the Google Chrome extension.

Please remember that no automated editorial assistant is infallible. Review every suggested edit; never blindly accept them all.

Grammarly is free, although I highly recommend the premium version, as it scans for more nuanced grammar issues that can substantively elevate the quality of your writing.

App #4: WordCountTools.com

One of the most game-changing editing lessons I have ever learned is not to edit for everything all at once. Rather, you should edit for style, grammar, and narrative progression separately, in individual editing phases.

That’s why after I put my work through the readability test of Hemingway, I drop my work into the text box on www.wordcounttools.com. 

Not only does this website tell you how many words your composition has overall, it also targets one of my biggest writing “quirks” -- redundancy.

(Seriously, I don’t know what my problem is, but I am incapable of going a single column, essay, or blog post without repeating certain words or phrases.)

Below the area where you paste copy, you’ll see a keyword density box, which counts how many times non-“grammar words” appear in your work.

I know, it seems almost stupidly simple.

But as someone who spends a good portion of my day editing the work of others, trust me when I say it’s likely that more than a few of you reading this post should also be using this tool.

App #5: Noisli

I used to spend so much time at work trying to find the perfect work playlist on Spotify to keep me on track. Music is supposed to help spark productivity and creativity, right?

Wrong. Well, for me, anyway.

I don’t know whether I’m defective or something, but most of the time I find myself distracted by music.

Either I get wrapped up in the song itself -- even if it’s only instrumental -- or, when one song ends, I don’t like what comes up next, so I break from my work to spend 20 minutes trying to curate a new ideal soundtrack.

Noisli is a stunning, minimalist (and free!) background noise generator. Or, as they like to say, Noisli is “your productivity companion.”

Even though there are multiple studies showing the positive effects of ambient noise on productivity, Noisli confused me when I took it for a test drive a couple years ago, during a particularly challenging copywriting project.

At first, listening to noise while working seemed… strange. Not to mention completely boring. Now? I’m a total convert, and it’s pretty much all I listen to when I’m trying to get sh*t done. 

With my free Noisli account, I’ve created and saved custom blends of sounds -- which you control using the soundboard shown on the left -- that can set the tone for my entire working day.

Sound options include rain, thunderstorm, wind, forest, leaves, water stream, seaside, water, bonfire, summer night, fan, train, coffee shop, white noise, pink noise, and brown noise.

As my Creator's Block co-host (and long-time work pal) Jessie-Lee knows, my favorite Noisli blend is one I call "rainy trainy." It’s a personalized symphony of thunder, rain, train, and fan sounds. There's also a splash of coffee shop, for good measure.

I created this soothing blend because I love traveling by train and have been doing so for years -- in my 20s, when I would travel home to Washington, D.C., while living in Boston, and now, when I travel to and from my home in Annapolis, Maryland, to IMPACT's home office in Connecticut. 

Fun fact: You can also share blends of sounds with other people.  

Noisli is available for free through the website. There is also a free Chrome extension and iOS app available for $1.99.

App #6: SEMrush Content Template

I learned about this gem when I was working with Franco Valentino of Narrative SEO on a comprehensive SEO analysis we published last year. Now, I don't leave home without it, so to speak -- especially when I'm crafting individual pillar strategies.

If you have SEMRush, simply click on “SEO Content Template” in the menu on the left near the bottom and enter the keyword you want to base a piece of content around. It will spit out recommendations on everything -- target length of your content, links and semantic keywords you should include, and much, much more.

It also has a rich-text editor, where you can test the content you're creating that targets a particular keyword string against the recommendations it provided:

SEMrush costs money, but it's worth the money. They also have a lot of different pricing plans, depending on the needs of your organization.

App #7: Evernote

Given how ubiquitous Evernote is, it almost feels like a copout to include this in my list. That said, I spent years not understanding how or why millions of people and scores of businesses trust the elephant-branded app, before it finally clicked for me last fall. 

Now, I'm an Evernote freak, too.

For the three of you who haven't heard of Evernote, it's a note-taking application you can download or use through the web. You can clip things from the web, create templates, scan and attach documents, and sync your notes across multiple devices (if you pay for the premium version).

I also love how I can easily share notes in my Evernote -- for example, a table of contents developed during a pillar strategy brainstorm. By clicking one or two buttons, I can share an accessible URL that stays updated if I make any changes to the document, instead of having to copy and paste the information into an email or a Google Doc.

But for me, it's application is simple.

I've created notebooks for my podcast, my pillar strategies, and general notes for content I'm working on. It's where I store all of the preparation notes for pillar strategy sessions, the questions I'm going to ask a Content Lab guest, and where I outline longform pieces. 

There isn't much to say about Evernote that hasn't already been said by somebody else. But what I will say is that so much of what I have gotten out of it only came about once I understood it was all about how I organized and setup my Evernote. 

If you're looking for a virtual notebook to help you make sense of all of the back and forth that shouldn't live in disparate emails or Google Docs, but also has no business living in something like GatherContent, I can't recommend Evernote more.

Evernote is free with premium and business options available.

The Best Writing Hack Is Honesty

Even though all four of these apps have revolutionized the way I think about and approach my work, the best piece of advice I can give you about how to boost your content creation capabilities is this:

Have an open and brutally honest discussion with yourself about what specifically you don’t like about the writing process.

No app or program can tell you what your problem is or fix a writing roadblock you can't identify; they can only help you once you have some idea of what pain point you’re trying to address.

The answers will vary drastically from person to person, as they should. For instance, while my struggles were rooted in distraction and focus, yours may be founded in writer’s block, which is an entirely different beast.

So, while I think each of you will like at least one of these apps, I hope you’ll also do yourselves a favor and figure out what part of your own personal writing process really needs improving.

from Web Developers World https://www.impactbnd.com/blog/content-marketing-apps-tools