#check 1 out from the library and 5 other impulse reads | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

circethegoblin · 4 years ago

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STAYING ALIVE MASTERPOST, FROM A BROKE TEEN WITH ADHD

here you go. some down to earth tips on how to not die metally nor physically.

tired of those "drink three liters of water everyday uwu" and "wake up at 5 am" and "buy a bath bomb and a fec mask and some other things you don't have the money for" shit? i'm here for ya.

1. NOT DYING

eat at least three meals a day, one of which m u s t be warm and above 300 kcal (it can be istant ramen with an egg added if you have to)

you technically should shower everyday, but we know how it is. A change of clothes is sometimes enough.

DRY SHAMPOO AND BABY WIPES!!!

keep bottles with water everywhere. On your desk, near that spot on the floor you always end up sitting on, near your bed, basically whenever you know you spend a lot of time. No need to get up and go to the kitchen will help. Obviously change the water in the bottles as often as you can.

Get some form of physical activity. It doesn't have to be much, you can for example replace scrolling on tiktok by walking around your room and scrolling on tiktok! Brilliant, isn't it? Obviously, running or doing those 10 minutes workouts from youtube is better, but you are still getting like an hour of walking.

Buy blankets. Steal blankets. Summon blankets from other dimensions. Just make sure you have a lot of warm, soft blankets in your house. You will thank me when you won't have the anergy to wash your sheets (just take them off and throw some blankets on your bed), or when the power goes out.

If you have pets, ALWAYS keep spare food that'll last for a week for them.

things to always have in the kitchen: milk, eggs, flour, rice, pasta, yeast, cheese, oil, a leafy vegetable, onions, tomatoes, apples, patatoes, some flavourful sauce, sugar, salt, spices and an emergency chocolate bar. You can make a lot of food with those. Just make sure you won't eat the chocolate too fast.

Have a lot of spare batteries. A lot.

Get urself a flashlight, a lighter, and a pocket knife.

Remember the apples? eat one a day. if you don't like apples or you can't eat them for any other reason, you can take a kiwi, banana, orange, basically something that will give you vitamins and non processed sugar.

do the dishes before your sink starts developing it's own ecosystem

drugs from that one guy around the corner = very bad time

2. NOT DYING INSIDE

Open the damn window.

Don't watch so many commentary videos. You are probably not even checking the sources, so you can easily make unjust judgement, and like. did you even hear of half of those people before?

make a discord server just for yourself. get into the habit of writing little things that happened to you there. rant about the fanfics you read. or the movies. vent there if you don't have anyone you can vent to. write your ideas there, write e v e r y t h i n g. make a section for passwords, for quick ideas, for your to do lists. you won't lose it as you do with sticky notes or notebooks. there is no risk anyone will see it. oh, and when you'll have a strong impulse to tell emily that you hate her? write that message in your private server and list all ur arguments. look at tat the next day and decide if you really mean that.

life sucks. come to peace with it.

cuddle ur pets if you have them

1 hour a day without a lot of sensory input. if you have to, reduce to half an hour.

if you find yourself scrolling endlessly through social media, make sure it's pintrest (just don't compare urself to the people here; if you have issues with that, tumblr may be better)

delete. twitter. from. your. phone.

influencers are lying to you; maybe not even intentionally. remember when you were watching that cute-aesthetic-productive morning routine, and you were wondering why your life isn't that pretty? why your room is a mess? why you cannot for the life of god be aesthetic 24/7? its the filter. don't worry about it, their lifes arent that nice either.

realize there's actually nothing stopping you from screaming as loud as you can right now. like there is no physical barrier. think about it. realize there's no actual physical barierr to many other things.

your body is your body. you can decide how it looks like; just remember it's in your greatest interest to keep it healthy.

3. BEING A LITTLE BETTER THAN JUST ALIVE

If you wear make up, take it off before you go to sleep.

moisturize your body; everything is better when your skin doesn't feel dry

have a one brand of cosmetics that you love and buy things mainly from it. they often have sets of products that complete each other. i like ziaja. it's a polish brand, it's surprisingly cheap and has nice quality

cleanser, moisturizer, face mist

of you can, change your sheets once every two weeks

do the dishes before your sink starts developing it's own ecosystem

do a deep house clean once a month (don't beat yourself up when you don't tho)

keep your workspace organized (it doesn't have to look organized to other people, remember)

sunscreen

cook your own food

keep a calendar

no money for scented candles? got ya. make a simmer pot: throw some apple peel, a couple of cinnamon sticks and whatever spices that smell good you have into a pot, add some water and simmer. boom. your house smells good, and you haven't spend 20 dollars.

If you really like candles, buy scented wax melts. it's cheaper.

Buy urself scented mists. they're pretty cheap and will make you feel A LOT better.

keep your clothes clean. if you aren't sure if that shirt thats on your chair is dirty or not, throw it in the washing mashine anyway. better be sure.

if you can, make your bed right when you get up

wear clothes that make you feel good. put some effort into your outfits. really.

4. OTHER PEOPLE

be nice to essential workers.

if you have money, give tips.

remember, you do not owe anyone love; it is not something you can force. even if they saved your life. even when they helped you in your darkest time. if you don't love them, you don't.

you don't have to be in a romantic relationship to be happy.

if you want to, date! date everyone! date girls, date boys, date nonbinary people! date people completly different than you, date people from different countries, date them!!! just make sure they're kind and won't kill you. even if you don't end up in a relationship, you can learn a lot.

don't be afraid to piss off people that deserve it

smile to strangers :)

5. NOT FAILING SCHOOL

heard of dark academia? check it out

romanticize the heck out of studying

do not let your studying be just reading the same partagraph over and over again. it won't work. believe me.

seterra for geography, quizlet for everything else

try to make yourself intrestet in whatever you are studying (watch veritasium, listen to podcasts about weird history facts)

notes are for you and you only; don't worry about them looking pretty. doodle on margins, make weird metaphors, squeeze in as much info as you can.

when you're studying, listen to music without words/in a language you don't understand.

chew gum while you study

get the forest app, get attached to the trees, focus.

don't feel guilty for taking breaks

grades aren't everything, but they are important.

eat something in school

don't just use the cheapest pens. invest a couple dollars in something that will make writing enjoyable and smooth

those study with me videos? they're great

if you like to argue with the teachers, take care of your grades becouse. they may not like you afterwards.

be nice to your classmates and help them with homework. if you don't do your homework they'll help you

executive dysfunction won't let you study? been there. sometimes it's better to wake up ealier tommorow and do that homework then.

don't feel guilty for failing a test

go to the goddamn class

don't pull all nighters oh my god don't especially on weekdays

6. OTHER LIFEHACKS

don't get involved in the crime, and if you do always have a believable explanation why you were doing it

have different alarm sounds for every day of the week

set a daily limit of money that you spend

great hobbies that don't require a lot of money; urban exploration, writing, hiking and learning other languages

thrift stores

don't eat grapefruits while on meds

nail polish removers dissolve most strong glues.

if you have a cut on your skin, desinfect it. do it. please just do it.

always have pads with you. even if you don't get periods, at least one of your friends probably does

#life hacks #life #not dying #staying alive #no one will see this #who cares though

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marvels-writings · 5 years ago

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Back & Forth (6)

Maria Hill Masterlist

Series Masterlist

A/N: This part came out sooner than expected but i remembered a bunch of asks I got about this so here you go

The talking around you was starting to get overwhelming. All of the questions, the touching, the flirty comments were overwhelming. You were sitting in the middle of the couch, a small group of girls surrounding you, holding drinks and talking to you.

Glancing over to where you assumed Maria had been, you saw her walking towards the balcony. It looked like the perfect way to get out of the mess you were in. Giving another fake smile, you got off the couch, holding your drink, and turned to face them.

“As much as I enjoy all of your company,” You winked, causing them to giggle.

“I need to check on someone, don’t miss me too much,” With another flirty wink, you left them giggling and gossiping amongst each other.

Letting out a sigh, you made your way to the balcony where Maria was leaning against the railing, a glass of whiskey on the rocks in her hand. The moonlight shone against her face elegantly. You opened the door to the balcony, frowning when Maria didn’t turn around at the sound.

“The party is in there, you know,” You commented, leaning against the railing with one elbow.

Maria huffed, ignoring you and watching the cars below. You tilted your head to the side curiously, confused why she was ignoring you. Noticing a strand of hair that had fallen out of her tight bun, you reached over to tuck it behind her ear like you usually did.

But Maria flinched away, her eyes flitting to you before tucking away the strand of hair.

“Why the cold shoulder all of a sudden?” You asked, your brow furrowing at her sudden coldness towards you. Maria rolled her eyes and began to walk back into the party when you took her wrist, pulling her back.

“Hey,” You pulled her back, giving her time to leave if she wanted to.

To your surprise, she didn’t.

“What are we?” Maria asked, turning to face you, her face twisted by hurt and anger.

All of her insecurities were starting to come out of her. She didn’t know if the way you flirted with her was friendly or if you wanted something more. Maria was starting to want more from you than just friendship. Her fear of her want being unrequited was getting to her.

“I…” You trailed off, unsure how to answer.

Maria rolled her eyes again, about to head back into the party, unwilling to let you stop her. But you grasped her wrist again, pulling her towards you. The brunette whipped around furiously to ask you what you were doing.

“What are you-”

You cut her off by pressing your lips to hers, surprising both of you. Her lips were soft. She tasted like the lipstick you’d bought her while shopping. Maria’s eyes began to flutter shut, trying to understand this feeling.

The feeling was new, unusual, but in no way unwelcome.

When Maria didn’t respond, you began to pull away. Terrified of changing what you already had for the worse, you backed away, bumping against the railing of the balcony.

But Maria followed, her lips crashing against yours again.

The feeling was euphoric, something neither of you had ever experience before.

Sliding your hands up her neck, you pulled her closer to you. Maria put one hand on either side of your hips, pinning you against the railing. Your hand drew patterns on the back of her neck, causing her to sigh into you.

Out of breath, both of you pulled away, panting heavily, bodies still close. You chuckled breathlessly, your breath hitting her face softly as you smiled, the special smile which was saved only for her.

“That’s what we are,” You whispered, your voice vibrating against her lips.

Maria laughed, leaning in again, but she was stopped by someone opening the door to the balcony.

“That’s not what the balcony is for,” Natasha commented, raising an eyebrow, your phone in her hand.

The brunette in your arms began to pull away, but you kept her there. Unwrapping one arm from her neck, you took the phone Natasha was handing to you. Flustered, the brunette bit her lip, leaning back against the railing with you.

“Who is it from?” You asked, ignoring her earlier remark and looking at your phone. It wasn’t a number you had saved.

“Your brother,” Natasha said, you raised an eyebrow. Your brother rarely called you, the only times he did was when he was frustrated and had no one to talk to. If he interrupted you just to rant about his problems, you were going to kill him.

“He said it was urgent,”

“He always does,” You muttered, putting the phone to your ear.

“What’s up stranger?” You joked.

“Now’s not the time for jokes,” Stephen said on the other line, his voice serious, the sound of crashing interrupting his voice. Surprised and worried, you unwrapped one arm from Maria and stood up straight.

“What’s going on?” You demanded, voice worried.

Maria sensed something was wrong, she leaned in towards the phone so she could listen. But all she could hear was the sound of crashing.

“Dormammu is here,” He stated, your brows furrowed in confusion. You’d read the texts about him more times than your brother had. Being able to get in and out of the library undetected had been an advantage. But this wasn’t supposed to be happening.

“Can’t the ancient-”

“She’s dead,” Stephen cut you off, his voice began to get more panicked and worried.

“What? How?” You demanded, your eyes widening in panic.

“I don’t have time to explain. I need you here, now,” Stephen demanded, ending the call after a crash. You tried to call him back, but it didn’t work. There were some coordinates and a picture of where he was in your messages.

Maria could see the sheer panic in your face. You needed to get to him. Fast.

“Sorry, I, I need to go,” You muttered, running a hand through your hair and opening the balcony door, only for Maria to stop you by reaching out for your elbow.

“You’re leaving now?” Maria asked, her heart dropping. She had just found something new, she wanted to keep it close to her.

But you were leaving.

“If I could stay here forever with you I would” You whispered, leaning in for one more kiss. Maria returned it, even though she knew it was going to end.

You sighed into her mouth, wanting to keep her close. The last thing you wanted was to leave, but you had to. You pulled away, leaning your forehead against hers. Muttering one last apology, you began to leave. Maria followed you, adamant on knowing why you were leaving.

“The least you could do is tell me why,” Maria muttered, following you through the party.

You walked towards your room, ignoring anyone who tried to stop you. Maria followed you, as usual, waiting for your response.

“There’s this person who destroys planets,” You began, trying to explain it in the simplest way possible. Slamming open the door to your room, you went to the closet.

“And he has decided to pay a visit to Earth,” You threw your battle suit onto the bed and began to take off all your jewelry.

“The only person who could keep him from destroying this planet is dead, my brother has no doubt impulsively decided to take her place,” You continued, yanking off the rest of the jewelry and moving to take off your shoes.

Maria was starting to get more worried about you. What you were describing, what you were about to deal with. It seemed worse than most things she had dealt with. There was no way she could help you, let alone give you advice.

“He needs my help to prevent this planet from erupting into chaos,” You finished, starting to strip off your dress.

Maria turned around to give you privacy, fidgeting with her hands. Worry filled her, she didn’t want to lose what she had just found.

“I’m done,” You signaled for her to turn around.

You wore the battle suit you had designed, it was the first time you were wearing it. Before, you’d usually worn different suits or t-shirts. But the suit looked stylish, it hugged your body perfectly, the gold and fav/color lines on the sides adding flair and style to it.

“Told you I have good taste,” You winked at her blush. Licking your lips nervously, you summoned a portal to the picture he had sent you, hoping it would work.

“Wait, there should be someone else that can do this,” Maria stopped you, the portal crashed as you turned around.

“There isn’t, chances are, he has all the help he can get. But he still needs my help,” You answered, heart, breaking at the helplessness shown on her face.

“I’ll be fine,” You assured, waving her off.

But you weren’t sure if this would be okay, Maria could see it. You bit your lip and began to open the portal into an alley where no one would see you. The brunette reached forward and took your wrist.

“Don’t you dare die on me Strange,” Maria stated, her voice stern, but you could see the fear beneath it.

“Wouldn’t dream of it S/O,” you winked, closing the portal and rushing off, leaving Maria standing alone in your room.

Maria bit her lip, hoping this wasn’t the last time she heard that nickname fall from your lips. There wasn’t anything she could do but wait for you.

Walking out of the alley, complete chaos ensued on the streets in front of you. People were screaming and running everywhere, bodies lay on the ground. Looking around, you realized you were in Hong Kong. You’d been here a few times for your career, but it had never looked more chaotic.

Building structures were falling, cars and people were on fire, neon signs were flickering out, dust coated everything. In the middle of it all, there was a portal opening. Buildings were falling into a purple and green void.

“Stephen, who the hell did you piss off this time?” You muttered, heading towards the middle of the street where you saw him standing.

“You’re finally here,” Stephen stated, turning around to face you. He wore the Eye of Agamotto on his neck, a cape rested on his shoulders. There were cuts on his face, he looked worse for wear.

“What are you supposed to be?” You gestured to the cape. “The batman of the wizarding world?”

“Look who’s talking about outfits,” Steve gestured to the battle suit. “Batgirl,”

Someone behind you chuckled, you turned around to see Wong laughing. Your eyes widened as did Stephen’s. Neither of you had ever seen him laugh. Smirking, Stephen turned around to face the people coming towards you.

“Man they need one hell of a makeup tutorial,” You muttered, conjuring a shield and a large whip.

They started speaking something you paid little to no attention to. You assumed it was another ‘save the world by destroying it’ speech. You reached out with the whip, catching him by surprise. The whip surrounded his throat, he kneeled.

“This is why you never interrupt me.” You hissed, jerking the whip to the side. He broke out of the whip quickly and began to conjure some sort of a blade.

“Those hurt when you get stabbed,” Stephen remarked while opening the eye, turning everything around him backward in time.

Neon signs were relocated, buildings were put back together, cars went back to where they were supposed to be. But you knew your brother was just getting started

This was going to get a lot worse.

A/N: Tell me what you think!

Tag List: @capcarolsdanver, @versdan, @lesbian-girls-wayhaught, @lovebotlarson, @dhengkt, @hstoria, @natasha-danvers, @veryfunnyal, @xxxtwilightaxelxxx , @ophelias-heart , @never-didbefore , @justarandomhumanhere, @the-most-unicorn-of-them-all , @thatssocamryn , @lesbian-x-blackwidow , @marvelbbyx , @wlw-imaginesss , @hcartbyheart , @summergeezburr , @imnotasuperhero , @a-stressedstudent let me know if you’d like to be in any of my tag lists!

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petrichoravellichor · 4 years ago

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Title: A New Kind of Life

Wordcount: ~10k

Rating: T

Summary: What if, when Sam and Dean break into the Empty, Cas isn’t the only one they save? A post-15x19 fix-it fic in which Crowley gets a second shot at the redemption (and family) he deserves.

(Read on Ao3)

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Chapters 4 & 5 (of 5) (Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch. 3)

The next morning, Crowley and Jack enter the library for Jack’s daily chess lesson to find Sam and Eileen hunched over a pile of books at the table nearest the doorway. Crowley takes a breath he doesn’t technically need, steeling his nerves. We can choose to be good...

“Jack,” he says smoothly, “be a good lad and go set up the board, will you? I’d like to have a word with Sam’s charming guest.”

Sam's eyes are on him in an instant. There's a quiet click as Sam's knuckles tighten around the book he's holding, followed by the sound of his foot sliding across the floor to nudge Eileen.

Eileen glances up from her work, looking first at Sam, then over at Crowley, and bloody hell, if looks could kill, she'd have him dead on the floor. Crowley doesn’t miss the way Eileen's grip tightens around the pen in her hand; in fact, he’s fairly certain she’s already plotted out at least three different places to stab him with it.

Crowley inclines his head in a gesture of polite greeting. “Hello, Eileen. I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced.”

“I know who you are,” Eileen says icily, and Crowley thinks that perhaps he underestimated the number of already-plotted stabbing places, “and unless the next words out of your mouth are I’m sorry, you can—”

“I’m sorry,” says Crowley, without preamble, and the silence that follows is absolute. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Sam stiffen, though whether it’s in anger or impatience or something else, Crowley doesn’t know: Eileen is all but boring into him with her gaze, and he doesn’t dare look away.

“You’re sorry,” Eileen repeats, slowly.

Crowley nods. “For the hellhound. The British Men of Letters asked for one, and I obliged; I didn’t ask what for. The first time I heard your name, you were already dead. It wasn’t personal. So...yes. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

Eileen’s expression is inscrutable. She continues to regard him carefully, rubbing her thumb over the pen in her grasp, until finally, she blows out a slow breath and sets the pen down. “Okay,” she says, and though she still looks wary, Crowley notices a slight drop in her shoulders. “I mean, don’t get me wrong: we’re not friends, and I still don’t trust you, but...thanks, I guess.”

“You’re welcome.” Then, deciding the smart thing to do is bow out before his luck expires, he adds, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, my pupil awaits,” and, with a final nod, hurries over to the other table.

Jack is positively beaming. “I told you,” he whispers as Crowley slides into his seat. “Eileen is nice! I think you two will be friends.”

“Doubtful,” Crowley murmurs, but at least Jack’s pleased with him. When the boy had knocked on his door earlier and told him that Eileen was with Sam in the library, Crowley had suggested postponing their lesson, but Jack had insisted it would be a good chance to make amends, and blast it if Crowley has yet found a way to deny Jack anything he asks for. If the boy weren’t already busy being the new God, Crowley muses, he’d make a hell of a crossroads demon.

They begin their lesson. Jack is getting better; he actually manages to give check once, and Crowley feels a swell of pride for him even as he easily captures the offending piece. With enough practice, Crowley has no doubt that Jack will eventually be able to give him a run for his money, maybe even compete in tournaments. Now that, thinks Crowley, would be something to see: God and his coach, the former King of Hell. Jack’s opponents would never know what hit them.

Eileen leaves just as Jack’s lesson is coming to a close, but Sam lingers after she’s gone, glancing over every so often. Crowley pretends not to notice and tells Jack to go on, he’ll put the board away since Jack set it up. Once Jack is safely out of earshot and it’s just Sam and Crowley left in the room, Crowley decides they might as well get on with it, whatever it is.

“Something on your mind, Moose?” he asks mildly, snapping the chess set closed and rising from his chair. “Because if it’s a snogging you’re after, pass. These days, I make it a point not to get involved with anyone whose partner has access to things that could kill me and knows how to use them.”

The look of dry exasperation Sam shoots him is well worth it. “Very funny,” Sam retorts, before his expression softens a bit. “I just...wanted to say thanks. For apologizing to Eileen, I mean. I know it probably wasn’t easy.”

Crowley blinks; he’d been expecting hostility, not approval. He masks his surprise with a cavalier shrug. “Easier than telling her that you and your brother allied with the man who set the hellhound on her, I presume.”

A pained look crosses Sam’s face. “I—yeah. Ketch was...complicated.”

“You have told her about all that, haven’t you?”

“Of course,” Sam says, and there’s enough anguish in his voice that Crowley believes him. “I told her everything.”

“Good. Glad to see you lot have finally learnt a thing or two about keeping secrets from one another.”

They’re quiet for a moment, and Crowley thinks that perhaps their conversation is over, but just as he’s about to go—

“While we’re on the subject of apologizing,” Sam says, carefully meeting Crowley’s eye, “I’m sorry about Rowena showing up in your room. I told her we were going to the Empty to get you and Cas back and that we’d let her know how it went, but then she kind of just ambushed you as soon as we got back, before I’d even had a chance to call her, and...yeah, I’m really sorry.”

The genuineness of Sam’s admission catches Crowley off-guard. “Yes, well,” he scratches the back of his head and looks away, “Mother never was one to sit and wait for news she could go out and get herself.”

Sam’s lips twitch in a wry sort of smile. “Well, she can’t astral project into the Bunker anymore, not with the warding we laid down. Also, um. I don’t know if Dean told you, but he, uh, talked to her for a while on the phone that night.”

The surge of affection Crowley feels is almost overwhelming. “No,” he manages. “He didn’t say anything.”

“Yeah. I’m pretty sure Rowena knows not to try anything else unless she hears from you first.”

Crowley sighs. “Which, incidentally, might be sooner rather than later. I’ve decided I’ll hear her out.”

“Really?” says Sam, sounding pleasantly surprised. “That’s...great. Do you want me to take down the warding, or…?”

Crowley shakes his head. “If I’m to do this, it’ll be in person. I don’t want her flickering out the moment it all becomes too much, not before I’ve had my say.”

“So, you’re thinking of going to Hell?”

“I don’t see any alternative,” grumbles Crowley. “She can’t come here physically, not without a host, and I’ve a feeling that particular option is against house rules.”

“You would be correct,” Sam says firmly, though not unkindly. “Maybe there’s another way, though...Cas might know a spell, or I can check the lore, see if we can figure something out.”

“Figure something out for what?” comes a voice, and Crowley turns to see Castiel enter the library, a small pile of books in hand. “Did you need me for something?”

“Crowley wants to talk to Rowena,” Sam explains, “ideally in person, but—”

“—but the only way to do that without Rowena taking a host,” Castiel finishes, “is for you,” he nods at Crowley, “to go to Hell. I understand.” He sets his books down on the table, looking thoughtful. “There may be a way,” he says after a moment, “although it’s not without risk, and we’ll have to check that we have all of the necessary ingredients. I can supply the angelic grace.” He looks over at Sam. “How much blood can you spare?”

Sam’s eyes widen; he glances from Castiel to Crowley and back again. “I mean—”

“Oh for the love of—do you two even hear yourselves?” Crowley demands; dear God, he’s always thought of Dean as the one lacking impulse control, but apparently it’s just a household prerequisite. “We’ll find another way, one that doesn’t involve either of your life forces!”

They all fall silent, each ostensibly pondering alternate plans, when suddenly, Sam gets a look that suggests he has an idea. “Jack.”

“Yes?” says Jack brightly, startling Sam as he appears out of thin air; he sees Castiel and Crowley and furrows his brow. “Are we having a family meeting? Shouldn’t we wait till Dean gets back from walking Miracle?”

Sam chuckles. “No, we’re not having a family meeting. I wanted to ask, do you think you could make body for Rowena, so she can visit us here at the Bunker?”

“Oh.” Jack considers a moment, then smiles. “Sure, I can do that. When does she want it?”

*****

One week later, they’re all in the kitchen having breakfast, and Crowley is doing what he considers to be an admirable job at hiding his nerves.

That is, until Dean abruptly calls him out on it.

“You sure you don’t want backup?” Dean asks, giving Crowley his best no-nonsense look from the other side of the table. “’Cause I mean it, man: you don’t gotta deal with this on your own.”

“We could wait in the hallway,” Sam offers from the next seat over, “and only come in if things get out of hand.”

Next to Crowley, Castiel nods. “And we could have a code word of some kind, a way for you to let us know you’d like assistance.”

“Oh, like Poughkeepsie!” Jack says around a mouthful of cereal. “I’ve never gotten to use that one before.”

And the thing is, Crowley can tell they mean it; a word from him, and he’ll have two hunters, an angel, and God himself there to support him. The thought makes him feel warm in a way he still isn’t used to, so he fumbles out a half-hearted remark about how they’re all impossible and insists they leave the Bunker as planned.

Over by the stove, Juliet looks up from where she’s lying curled around Miracle and lets out a miffed sort of bark; Crowley shoots her a look, and with a low growl of displeasure, she lowers her head.

The hellhound had shown up out of the blue four days ago, howling insistently at the Bunker door. A quick call from Sam to Rowena had revealed that Rowena knew nothing about it—apparently, Juliet hadn’t been seen in Hell since Crowley’s death and was presumed to have run off. It had taken Crowley quite a bit of persuading to convince Sam and Dean to let her in, but eventually, they’d settled on a few ground rules that everyone could live with: Jack would make Juliet visible to everyone, not just Crowley; Crowley was to keep Juliet either with him or in his room at all times; and Juliet not to go near Eileen unless or until Eileen said otherwise. Crowley had readily agreed to each one; after all, a few simple rules were a small price to pay in exchange for having his beloved hellhound back at his side.

After breakfast, Crowley takes Juliet to his room and orders her to stay, sighing when the hound gazes reproachfully back at him. “Don’t worry, girl,” he assures her, scratching just behind Juliet’s ear in the place he knows she really likes. “Papa will be just fine.”

Ten minutes later, as Crowley stands in the library and awaits his mother, he’s still repeating that last bit to himself when Rowena appears in the doorway. She halts as Crowley catches sight of her, and for a long moment, they just stare at each other. Eventually, Crowley clears his throat.

“Mother,” he says, stiffly. “You’re looking well, for a dead woman.”

Rowena smiles. “Yes, well,” she says, raising a hand to examine it in the light, “let it never be said there aren’t certain benefits to being a surrogate aunt to the new God.” She lowers her hand, and her smile turns more tentative. “You’re looking well yourself. It’s good to see you, in the flesh.”

Crowley doesn’t smile back. “You said you wanted to explain, so now’s your chance.” He narrows his eyes. “Your last chance. If I were you, I’d choose my next words very carefully. In fact,” he adds, remembering his own apology to Eileen, “unless the first two are I’m sorry, then you needn’t bother with the rest.”

Rowena hesitates, biting her lip, and just as Crowley is about to tell her to leave and not come back, she actually says it: "I'm...sorry."

Time itself seems to stop. It’s as though the words have turned Crowley to stone; he'd half-expected her to refuse outright. “For?” he manages, after a moment.

Rowena's gaze is pained and earnest. “For everything. For abandoning you when you were a child. For using you, for manipulating you, for...for Gavin.” A single tear falls down her face. “He was my grandson, and I let him die because I knew it would hurt you. It was wrong, and...and I’m sorry.”

Crowley feels like he’s swallowed glass. He closes his eyes and thinks back to the last time he saw Gavin, when Gavin decided to return to the past and embark on a doomed voyage in order to save the soul of his beloved. Crowley sees himself reaching for Gavin, determined to whisk him away; he sees himself being frozen in place by Rowena’s spell, sees Gavin’s look of sad resolve as he says goodbye.

I’m sorry, Father...

More than anything, Crowley wants to be able to go back, to forgo his damnable pride and say that no, he’s sorry, because for all he’d hated his mother, for all he’d sworn to himself that he’d be better than her, he hadn’t been. Instead, he’d been a bitter, abusive arse who’d made Gavin’s life hell for as long as he was alive. By all accounts, Gavin should have followed in Crowley’s footsteps and become a hardened, miserable drunk, only...only he hadn’t...

Because somehow, inexplicably, Gavin MacLeod had been decent. He’d met a girl and fallen in love, and when it became clear to him that staying in the present meant his love would be damned and that innocent people would die, Gavin hadn’t hesitated. He’d gone back, knowing full well what it would mean, because it had been the right thing to do. Gavin had a choice, and he'd chosen to be good.

We can be more than the people we come from...Gavin had been better than him. Maybe it’s not too late for Crowley to be better than himself.

He opens his eyes. Rowena is staring at him from near the doorway, face a mess of tears, and for the first time, Crowley thinks that maybe, just maybe, he’s not the only one who wants to be better, not the only one who needs to be redeemed.

“Did you mean it?” he asks, quietly. “When you said you’d missed me?”

“Aye,” Rowena rasps, voice barely more than a whisper. “When Sam and Dean...when they told me you’d...died…All I could think was that I’d rather have you alive, even if you hated me. I don’t need you to love me; I know I haven’t earned that. I just...” She keeps her eyes on Crowley’s face and takes a hesitant step towards him. “I just want to be a part of your life.”

“Why?” demands Crowley, and even he can hear the way his voice breaks on the word. “Damn it, Mother, why? Why, after a lifetime of not being there, do you want to be there now? And don’t say it’s because you love me,” he says sharply as she opens her mouth. “Just...don’t. Pick a different reason, one I can actually believe. You say you want to be in my life, but why should I let you? Why do you deserve to be?”

Several seconds go by in silence; then—

“I...I don’t,” Rowena murmurs, eyes widening as she speaks words that are equal parts admission and realization. “I don’t deserve it, I—” She hangs her head and lets out a shuddering sob. “I don’t know what I’m doing, I don’t know how to do this right; I wish I did, but I don’t! I thought loving you made me weak, but I was wrong; I always have been. You deserved better from this world.” She raises her eyes. “You deserved better from me, and...and I don’t know how to love you the way you deserve, but Fer—but Crowley, if you’ll let me, I’d like to try.”

If he’ll let her...Crowley feels himself sway. It’s a dizzying notion, letting his mother in. They’ve hated each other for centuries; it’s been the one constant in Crowley’s life, a perverse and painful North Star that, in one way or another, has guided every major decision he’s ever made and shaped the very core of who he is. Hating and expecting to be hated back, by his mother, by everyone—for his entire life, it’s been how he’s survived, but...

But that isn’t true anymore. Crowley has a new life now, one with people who care about him, people who had been willing to stand in this room beside him if he'd asked it of them. The idea of not hating Rowena, of her not hating him...it’s strange and uncomfortable and borderline frightening, but it’s also...possible, realizes Crowley, in a way that it’s never felt before. Because whatever happens with Rowena, Crowley knows he’ll survive it. And he won’t have to do it alone.

Crowley draws himself up to full height. “I don’t know how to believe you,” he says. “Not right now, at any rate, but…” He hesitates, then takes a careful step forward. “I’m willing to...entertain the possibility that someday, I might.”

Rowena’s face is a study in barely contained hope. “Then...you mean…?”

“I’ve decided I’m going to let you try, but on my terms, with boundaries.” Crowley looks her square in the eye. “And if you give me a reason, any reason, to regret that decision, then I promise you now that it will be the last chance I ever give you. Have I made myself clear?”

Rowena regards him carefully, no doubt sensing the absolute certainty of the words, and nods. “Aye. I understand. So.” She gives him a tentative smile. “What are your terms? And shall we have them in writing, to make it official?”

Her tone is light, playful, almost, but her eyes are serious, and Crowley gets the sense that the question is a sincere one. Honestly, it’s probably not a bad idea, writing it all down, especially since everything about this is uncharted territory for them. He’s never got this far with his mother, and he has no idea how to best move forward...but he knows he doesn’t have to figure that out alone, either.

“I’ll get back to you,” Crowley says at last. “In a few days, perhaps, after I’ve thought about it, talked about it...with my family.”

And for the first time in his life, the word doesn’t hurt when he says it.

********************

Epilogue: A Few Months Later...

It’s Dean who suggests they all go to the beach.

“Just think about it,” Dean says over pancakes one morning, gazing dreamily off into space. “Sand between our toes, cooler full of Margiekugels, matching Hawaiian shirts...”

Crowley balks at the last bit; he’s seen the shirts Dean has in mind, and there is absolutely no way in Heaven or Hell he’ll ever be caught dead in—

“We’re all getting matching shirts?” Jack asks, beaming.

Bollocks…

A few days later, Crowley sits on a California beach at sunset, reluctantly dressed in what can only be described as a vibrant, floral nightmare. He watches with a sort of begrudging fondness as Jack, Sam, and Eileen, all in similar shirts, play fetch with Miracle and Juliet down in the surf, and if Crowley doesn't actually hate his current attire as much as he pretends to, that's nobody's business but his own. He takes a sip of his cocktail—Sex on the Beach, and a damned good one at that—and glances over to where Dean is humming Queen and flipping burgers over a charcoal grill. "Remind me to take Jack shopping when we get back,” he says. “I’ve given up on you and Moose, but perhaps there’s still time to save the next generation from a closet full of fashion sins.”

Dean snorts. “Dude, whatever. Besides, the kid’s God now: the hell’s it matter what he wears?”

“That is precisely why it matters,” counters Crowley, exasperated. He looks past Dean at Castiel, who’s chopping tomatoes at a nearby picnic table. “You there, Feathers, back me up! Where’s your sense of fatherly pride?”

“I’m proud of Jack regardless of what he wears,” Castiel says without looking up from his work, and Crowley’s just about to argue the point further when Castiel adds, “Although if you’re offering to help ensure he doesn’t look like a lumberjack, I’m not opposed.”

Dean shoots Castiel a look of abject betrayal. “Hey! At least I don’t walk around lookin’ like a holy tax accountant.”

“I love you too,” says Castiel mildly, smiling as Dean’s frown melts into a blushing pout, and Crowley gleefully registers the argument in his favor.

Savile Row, here we come, he thinks, smirking and taking another sip of his drink. He wonders idly how much convincing it would take to get Sam, Dean, and Castiel to accompany him and Jack on their shopping excursion. They could make a day of it, hit up all the best shops and end by taking in a show. Eileen, of course, would be welcome to join, and Crowley thinks that perhaps he’ll even invite Rowena...perhaps. If she asks very, very nicely.

For now, he leans back in his chair, watching contentedly as Jack races the dogs back from the shoreline, Sam and Eileen trailing behind while closer by, Castiel joins Dean at the grill and the two start plating food. There will be time to sort out the details later; today, Crowley’s on holiday, with his family. And there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

#crowley #spn crowley #fergus macleod #crowley macleod #spn #supernatural #spn fix-it fic #fanfiction #a new kind of life #my writing #it's dooooone omg #thanks to everyone for reading!

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fireblogger · 4 years ago

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Tips to Reduce Spending

I’ve never had a problem with my monthly budget, mainly because it doesn’t exist. I naturally spend less than I make, therefore there’s always some money for the bills and rarely some time spent managing my money. It’s not a good situation to be in, it’s not the worse by any means, but if you want to build your savings and retire earlier you need to be deliberate with your spending and savings choices.

This is traditionally done with a budget. Now I’m not going to lie, I’m terrible at budgets. I can create them no problem, but remembering to actually follow them? Good luck.

1. The first step to create a budget is to document your expenses. If you don’t know how much you tend to spend then it will be very difficult to create an effective budget. If most of your transactions are on debit and credit cards, then you can go back through previous months to track your spending. Or you can start tracking today so you have a better idea in the future.

2. Once you have a good idea of how much money you tend to spend on various categories you can start building the budget itself. (Don’t forget about annual or semi-annual expenses like car insurance). Make sure you are aware of the differences between needs and wants when you are budgeting.

3. Once you have a budget you aren’t done, you should continue to track your expenses and adjust the budget as needed.

So, now you have a budget. How does that translate to actually spending less money? Here are some behavioral tips to help spend less money:

· Now that you know about how much you spend on things start paying for them in cash. When you go to a grocery store with a $100 bill (or a $100 gift card) you are forced to spend less than that $100. You can’t go over, but if you had a debit card a $112 bill would approve even though it was $12 over your budget.

· Change your daily habits to avoid temptation. Does your route to or from home pass by a fast-food restaurant that you just love? Did you just notice that you actually spend $50 a month there on coffee and French fries? Try taking a side street so you never see the sign. Do you habitually order delivery through your handy-dandy phone? Try deleting the apps, not seeing them on the phone can reduce temptation and the extra step of needing to redownload every time can slow you down when you’re thinking about ordering. Even if you don’t want to delete the app you can hide in somewhere in the back folders of your phone so you don’t see the icon and thing huh, think imma get myself some pizza.

· If there’s a consistent ‘treat’ you like to get, think about low-cost alternatives. For example, I love pizza. Like, it’s not healthy, neither is my solution but we’re talking about money not fitness. I will often keep some tortilla shells, a cheese blend, and a bag of pepperonis on site. Then if I’m craving pizza, I can make myself a 400 calories pizza roll that costs less than 50 cents instead of spending the minimum of $10 (to deliver) which usually ends up being a $12 order which also has a delivery charge, tax, and tip and becomes something closer to $20 for a single craving?

· Consider how your spending habits change when you’re emotional, are you more likely to buy yourself a treat and how much does that treat cost a month? Make the decision before-hand to redirect emotional buying to other positive behaviors instead. Things like working out, calling a friend, drawing a doodle of whoever pissed you off then burning it in the sink, or meditating. Whatever you do, don’t open up Amazon.

· Ask yourself if you need something or want something before you buy it. Do you need those new shoes? Or do you want them? Taking the time to add one more mental step before actually spending the money can help reduce impulse purchases. My No Spend Year | Michelle McGagh | TEDxManchester is a great TED Talk on this topic.

· Forget trends. Don’t even bother trying to keep up with all the newest fads. And if a fad looks really cool? Take a step back and ask yourself if you really think that this new item is actually useful and will add joy to your life, or if you just think it is because of herd mentality.

· Don’t go into debt to buy things. This mainly applies to credit-card debt and doesn’t really apply to houses (especially if you plan on getting a duplex and renting out of it). If there’s something that’s really cool, it will still be really cool when you have the money saved up to buy it in cash. It might even be really cool and cheaper if a new model comes out in the meantime.

Pay down your debts. This is less advice to reduce immediate spending and more advice to avoid future spending on interest payments. There are two main schools of thought when it comes to paying down debt:

1. Start with the high interest debt. This makes the most logical sense as high-interest debt will end up costing you more in the long run.

2. Start with the lowest balance, regardless of debt: This makes the most emotional sense. People are human, and they like to see progress on their goals. The feeling of success when you pay off a debt completely can help spur you on to tackle the next debt.

Starting with the high interest debt is my preference. I want to save every penny possible, and that’s the way to do it. But if you know that you may have difficulty sticking to a plan, or if you want the satisfaction of paying off your debt then the second option is a fine one to take.

Changing your behavior and paying down debt are some of the harder steps to take when trying to spend less money overall. Here are some simpler, practical, pieces of advice:

· Buy in bulk. When you go grocery shopping do some meal planning first and buy in bulk. If you have a larger family then stores like Costco or Sam’s Club can be very useful to get some discounted prices. However, if you’re like me and live in a very small household then buying some items in bulk at a local cheap grocery store can be just as effective without cluttering up limited storage space.

· Explore secondhand shops for new appliances, clothes, furniture, etc. Online marketplaces like Craigslist and Facebook Marketplace can be great places to get good deals. There’s no need to spend $50 on a waffle iron when the Youth Ranch down the street or Bob around the corner is selling one for $5.

· Price-shop. Amazon won’t always have the cheapest prices, and while convenience is nice they aren’t the only home delivery store. Shop around to see where you can get the best price for your purchases.

· Don’t buy as much stuff, borrow it if you can. If anyone knows me then know how much I love books. I used to have multiple bookcase that I would move about once a year when I switched apartments. Over time I forced myself to give away or sell most of them, and now check the local library for my next read. And by now I mean pre-COVID-19. But post Covid I’m sure I’ll be back at it!

· Look for long lasting, high-quality versions of products. A nice pair of shoes can last you five years or more in my experience. If you can, save up for the longer lasting versions so you don’t have to replace them as often.

· Reduce any monthly bills that you can. If you consistently have rollover data that may mean that you should pay less for less data. If you’re going to the gym just to use the treadmill, consider walking around the block a few times instead. Decide if you really need all those streaming services that you pay for.

· Adjust the thermostat, especially if your home isn’t especially energy efficient. Keep the apartment a little colder in the winter and a little warmer in the summer for power savings.

Finally, this is all well and good. But how do you actually follow through? The best person to answer this is yourself, but here are a few options:

1. Get an accountability partner. You can go through each other’s finances to make sure you are hitting your goals. Having an extra set of eyes can be incredibly useful to not only spot places where expenses can be curbed, but to make sure that what’s on paper matches what you wanted there to be.

2. Pay for everything in cash. This is reminiscent of Dave Ramsey’s cash budget. But if you have an envelope of cash labeled food, and that’s all the fast food and grocery money you have for the month it will be difficult to go over the limit. There’s also something more visceral in giving up cash as opposed to sliding a card that may make you think twice about going through with your purchase.

3. Feel broke to be rich. Try opening a second bank account for your paycheck and bills, then set up a recurring transfer to your main checking account. If you never see the bulk of your money, and if your bank balance looks low every time you open the app to check it may be easier to avoid spending money. This isn’t a mindset that everyone wants to be in, but I’ve found that constantly feeling broke means I am far less likely to spend money on frivolities.

If you have more ideas on how to save money on a daily basis leave a comment below!

#fireblogger #money #money tips #save money #how to save #how to save money #budget #advice #money advice

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mhafiction · 5 years ago

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Out & About (PT. 1)

Read Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4

Pairing: Bakugo x reader

Fluff/Friends to Lovers (?), lots and lots of pining.

Synopsis: Reader is very close friends with the Bakusquad, except for the aloof and mysterious Bakugo. He still intrigues them however, and a night out with the group might actually be the the push they need to really get the ball rolling on transitioning their awkward comradery into something a little- more.

Note: this is the first fanfic I’ve ever written, I’m very spooked. There’s a ton of stress out there in the world rn, and I’m trying to find comfort in writing. I hope you enjoy. (Also I’m sorry abt the formatting of this fic I don’t have a laptop to post from :0) -K.

“I’m so glad we could do this, guys!”

You beamed at your friends, excited to set out for the evening. The major exam everyone had been studying diligently for all week was finally over, and the Bakusquad agreed to celebrate by going into the city to enjoy the night life. To be completely honest, in the week leading up to the test, you had been strangely on edge-but not just because of the workload. The dormitory had become oddly quiet, with everyone either off in the library or retreating to hit the books in the silent comfort of their rooms. You missed the hustle and bustle of everyone chatting, eating Sato’s latest confectionary masterpieces, and most of all, the unbridled energy your friends provided. Well, most of them, anyway.

At least now you could finally relax for the weekend and enjoy a good meal with them.

“Right? It feels like forever since we’ve done something like this,” Mina groaned, leaning her head on your shoulder. Her spikey horns jabbed into your chin. The murmur of the station felt familiar, a calming setting for you and your friends.

Kirishima flashed one of his bright smiles. “Aw, it’s only been a couple of weeks!”

“Yeah but you know I’m clingy,” Mina pouted. “I need my favorite peeps or else I get sad and droopy.”

You chuckled, pushing her playfully off your shoulder. “You’re so dramatic, Mina.”

You were thankful for such cheerful and enthusiastic friends. They were all energetic, happy, and extroverted. They really brought you out of your shell at the beginning of the year, and you had gotten to know them all so well over late-night movie marathons or afternoons at the arcade. You surveyed your little group, watching Kaminari begrudgingly charge Sero’s phone, Mina laughing uproariously at his some joke Kiri cracked, and their general bubbly aura. Then, your eyes caught on a familiar pair of piercing red ones.

Scratch that. You had gotten to know most of them pretty well.

What could you say about Bakugo Katsuki? Well, he was impulsive. Talented. Aloof. Angry.

That was about it. How such a grumpy, quiet boy had attracted these walking rays of sunshine was beyond you. Not to say you hate Katsuki or anything. In fact, one might say that you like him.

He had that extreme sort of passion that you’d never seen before, in anyone. He had a keen eye for people’s strengths and weaknesses, both in combat and just in genral. He encouraged you through those traits to go beyond your limits. And though he was cruel and rude to others, the worst he had been to you was a little standoffish. You knew Bakugo was going to be a really great hero someday, and you wanted to get to know him better. Most days, it felt like you were getting to him; becoming something a person would call friends. Then he’d look you in the eye with those dark, stoic eyes and it felt like you knew nothing about him all over again. If eyes were the windows to the soul, Bakugo guarded his with a legion of soldiers and an iron gate.

It’s okay you mused to yourself. Nobody really knows him, to be fair. Except maybe Kiri and Deku. But he’s known Deku for years! And Kiri can get anyone out of their shell. Why would Bakugo want to be good friends with me? He’s not obligated to. I shouldn’t pester him. But I still want to get to know him! Damn.

“Oi, Y/N!”

You snapped out of your thoughts. Bakugo glared at you. Or maybe it was just the way his face naturally was. Maybe it was just you, but those red eyes seemed to soften a bit.

“C’mon, train’s here.”

You nodded following behind your chattering group. The car was nearly empty, and most of your friends darted for the seats. Kaminari laid across three, spreading out as if her were royalty. Chances are, he probably felt like it.

“This is the most luxurious thing I’ve ever experienced,” he sighed. Sero flicked the back of his head, causing Kaminari to shoot up with a yelp. “That’s sad, Denki. Scooch over.”

Kaminari turned to you, rubbing the his head where Sero had flicked him. “Not sitting, Y/N?”

“Nah. I’ve been sitting at a desk all week, I’d like to refrain from it for now. I’ll bet my postures’ shot.”

Denki shrugged. “Suit yourself,” he splayed over Sero’s lap. “But just know you’re missing out.”

“Don’t get too comfortable, Sparky,” Bakugo growled. “It’s almost rush hour. By the next station, this place’ll be packed.”

Bakugo took his place by one of the seats, opting to stand by the pole next to the door. He was close enough to the seats so that it was clear he was part of the Bakusquad , but just far enough to isolate himself from the conversation. You stranded almost directly across from him, allowing yourself to face the group so that you could converse with all of them, rather by being in a row side by side. Your hand gently held the plastic ring above your head. You all had fallen into a comfortable chatter, laughing about how well you did on the exam and the latest slip-up Kaminari had made in training. The train swayed gently, and all was well. Then came the next stop.

You gaped at the crowd that had accumulated at the doors, dreading when they’d open. All tired looking folks dressed in smart suits and clutching their briefcases. You were silently impressed by their sheer numbers. Living in isolated school dorms with the little student social bubble you had had made you forget how vast the city was. It made you miss your morning commute a little bit. But, when the doors finally opened, that feeling completely evaporated.

It was as if a sea of black ties, dress shirts, and loafers had washed over you. You looked down, determined to contain your bewildered expression. The others were not faring so well in that department. Their cartoonish expressions were accented by quiet (and sometimes loud) yelps at the office people trampling their toes. Bakugo remained unfazed. In the chaos, you loosened your grip on the plastic loop to check your phone. 5:00 PM on the dot. We really are kind of dumb. You wondered to yourself why Bakugo hadn’t said anything when you suggested the outing after class. He was usually so outspoken when it came to stuff like that. And it’s not like he hadn’t known. You sighed, putting your phone away. I should have checked the time before we left... if I had just suggested to go a little later, the crowd wouldn’t be this bad. Well what’s done is done.

As you slipped our phone into your pocket, you found yourself being sharply pushed by the crowd. Another swell of people had entered, and your loose grip didn’t serve you well in such a circumstance. Naturally, you fell forward. Right into Bakugo. Your head collided with his and you tried to reel backwards in pain- but Bakugo pulled you closer to him, grabbing your wrists with an impressive grip.

“Owwww...”

“Shut up, you’re making a scene,” He hissed, eyes scanning you with... worry? As if suddenly becoming aware of this, Bakugo quickly returned to his usual cold demeanor.

You groaned. “It’s not as if it’s my fault that I got pushed. Or that you have a such a hard skull.” You suddenly realized how close you two were. Most of your friends were pretty physically affectionate, and you had no discomfort hugging them or cuddling with them. But Bakugo was not a “cuddle” person. Hell, his if his attitude wasn’t enough, his hair said it all. He did not like being touched. But here you were, chest to chest, his hands gripping your wrists, faces just a nose apart.

If it bothered him, he didn’t show it. You turned to look at the spot you were just standing in, craning your neck just to get a peek. It was tough.

“It’s useless,” Bakugo sighed. “There’s three extras in the place you were. Bastards are glued to their phones.”

You shrugged, peering up at him. More and more people were cramming into the car like sardines. “Guess I’ll have to stay here for now. Sorry.”

Bakugo averted his stony gaze, a gentle agony lining his face. “S’okay.” The rest of your group seemed to take no notice of the state the two of you were in. Mina and Kiri has pushed themselves up against the wall in an effort to be as small as possible, Sero’s gangly frame was not doing him favors, and you swore you heard Kaminari sobbing somewhere, though his shock of blonde hair was out of sight. Somehow, aside from the awkwardness of being near Bakugo, you weren’t uncomfortable. He had stopped holding your wrists and instead kept his hands hovering near your waist in order to keep you from falling over or accidentally bumping into another passanger. Not that you needed it our anything. You knew it was because he felt uncomfortable putting his hands anywhere else. Your own arms were similarly placed, and in a weird way, it was as if you two were embracing. Probably as close to a hug from Katsuki that you’d ever get.

With nothing else to look at, you observed his features. You knew already that his eyes were something else altogether, but you released a short intake of breath. Bakugo was handsome. You had thought that when you first saw him, but you truly had taken it for granted. This close, his features were rendered beautifully. His jawline, the way his hair fell- it was sort of ethereal. He kept his eyes trained on everything but you, as if he were trying to forget you were there. But on top of all that...

“Bakugo, you smell like caramel?” His eyes darted back to your own, that vulnerability you had only seen recently shining through. It stayed a little longer than last time.

“Tch. It’s my quirk,” he tried to look away, but you pressed him further.

“Oh? I didn’t know that,” you hummed, trying to keep your composure. Talking this close to Katsuki was beyond your skill level. You patted yourself on the back internally for at least making it this far. “Does it have something to do with your parents’ quirks?” He flinched, and you worried you had gone too far. He never had been one for small talk. But he obliged, a faint pink dusting his cheeks. “Kind of. My mom sweats glycerin and my dad can make explosions with his hands. I sweat nitroglycerin, and it lets me make explosions. And nitroglycerin smells like burnt sugar, or-”

“Caramel,” you finished, grinning. That was probably the most he had ever said to you in one sentence. And, to your suprise, he smiled back. But this smile melted your heart. It was sweet and unassuming and he didn’t even seem aware of it. You tried to hide your shock. “Heh. Smart Y/N. You’re such a know-it-all.” He tapped your forehead with his fist, right at the spot you two had collided. You flinched. The injury was still tender. Bakugo’s face changed, but still remained vulnerable and kind. “I’m sorry. Are you okay?” He knelt to see you eye to eye, and examined your face. He had asked with a genuine concern you had never seen before. Those words seemed like they weren’t meant for his mouth. You felt your face flush. If he was just an inch closer you two would be-

What the fuck?? No way. No fucking way.

There was no way. It wasn’t possible that you could be falling for Bakugo fucking Katsuki. The explosive boy who cackled maniacally whenever he got to punch someone. The sport festival victor who beat up Uraraka, the human equivalent of a cinnamon roll, without an ounce of mercy. The student so notorious for his mean streak that the League of Villains had tried to recruit him.

But that internal part, deep within you knew that he was more than his surface-level outrage. That’s why you liked him so much, right? That’s why you wanted to be his friend. He was a boy who was passionate, ambitious, and honest. Not many could see that. Still, more than this, he displayed a tenderness you didn’t think he was capable of.

A tenderness that was only a nose away from meeting your lips.

“I’m fine, Bakugo.” You attempted to subtly scooch backwards, hoping to increase to distance at least by a smidge. If you stayed in a position like this after a revelation like that, you’d truly implode.

Bakugo was no idiot. He saw you squirm at the proximity, and drew back, his usual aura returning. Internally, he smacked himself. Idiot, idiot, idiot. How could you forget? At best, you two are just friends. Most of the time, you’re just acquaintances. Control yourself, Bakugo.

You two kept this awkward silence until your stop, cheeks ablaze. After what felt like forever, your destination was announced, and Mina gave a shout of joy and relief so loud it seemed like it shook the entire train. You and Bakugo squeezed past the suits, you offering up enough apologies to compensate the both of you for a lifetime of sin. When you reached the door, it felt as if you were finally getting your head above water. You sighed deeply, talking in the rhythms of the station.

“Wow. That was awful,” you breathed. Bakugo grunted. His eyes refused to meet yours, and your heart sank. This was the Bakugo that everyone knew. The grumpy and angry Bakugo and nothing more. Not the sweet boy with the soft eyes who had asked with the gentlest tone if you were ok. But you still liked him. What is wrong with me?!

Mina flopped on the floor like a beached whale. “Ughhhhhhhh.”

“Mina, get up! That’s so gross,” Sero stepped over her, disgusted.

Kiri checked the group, making sure everyone got off. “Where’s Kaminari?”

A distant screech sounded from the train, and Kaminari burst through the doors just as they were about to close, talking his place on the station floor beside Mina. You laughed. This happiness made you forget about Bakugo, if at least for a second. But his eyes were trained on you, watching you toss you head back in joy and look at everything with such a deep love.

You saw, for one second as you turned back towards him, that soft smirk he almost never had. And your heart beat faster.

“Okay everyone! Let’s go!”

#mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction #bakugou katsuki #bakugo x reader #x reader #bnha #sero hanta #kaminari denki #mina ashido #kirishima eijirou #mha x y/n #mha x reader #bnha imagines #bnha x y/n #bnha x reader #mha #katsuki bakugo x reader #long fic #yikes

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beholdme · 4 years ago

Text

All the Many Shades of Gerry - Chapter 5

Chapters: 5/19

Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Martin Blackwood/Gerard Keay, Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist

Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Gerard Keay, Tim Stoker (The Magnus Archives), Sasha James, Gertrude Robinson, Elias Bouchard

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Library AU, Librarian Jon, Artist Gerry, Trans Male Character, Trans Martin Blackwood, Canon Asexual Character, Asexual Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Ace Subtype - Sex Positive, Polyamory, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Romantic Fluff, Falling In Love, Boys in Skirts, Kissing, Demisexual Gerard Keay, Minor Character Death, Past Character Death, Canon-Typical Child Neglect, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Flirting, Minor Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist/Tim Stoker, Adventures in Hair Dying, Happy Ending, Banter, Gerry has a lot of sass, Gerard Keay is Morticia Adams, Jon is a very grumpy Librarian, Martin adores them anyway.

Summary: In which Gerry is a kaleidoscope and Jon and Martin can't help falling in love with him.

He happens to love them back.

Find it on Ao3

[1] [2] [3] [4]

Gerry has always thought it was very appropriate that his first kiss (with Jon, and overall) happened in the forgotten stacks of a local library. The scents of books and ink had surrounded them, something he still associates with Jon and youthful adoration to this day.

He was seventeen and desperately trying to pass his A-levels in the crumbling ruins of his fucked up life. Jon was nineteen and ready to have a breakdown and drop out of second-year uni. Their messes had conveniently lined up enough to give them space to fall in love. It was a messy, chaotic type of relationship, but that was who they were and it suited them just fine.

They somehow ended up as unlikely study partners after trying to check out the same book for their respective English classes, and then, almost without even noticing, they were inseparable.

Gerry was drawn to Jon because he was steady but in a frenetic, rebellious kind of way. His eyebrow piercing and painted nails also helped.

Jon was enamored with Gerry because he flirted and held his hand and accepted him for exactly what he was and nothing else mattered.

One night, after admittedly too little sleep and too much caffeine, Jon decided he wanted to try something new. It was impulsive. He should have asked first, but instead, he moved without thinking, and somehow Gerry was pushed back against a bookshelf, their lips pressed together in a rather forceful way.

Gerry laughed at him.

"Not exactly the reaction I was hoping for," Jon pouted, drawing away, but not so far that Gerry wasn't able to draw him back with his hands on Jon's hips. Jon's hands, previously bracketing Gerry's face, slipped up to tangle in Gerry's soft, badly dyed black hair.

Fortunately for Gerry, Jon was exactly the right height for Gerry to draw him close and press a kiss to his temple. "You just surprised me, is all. I wasn't expecting you to do that. Like, maybe ever?" He laughed softly, again, an incredulous well of hot affection opening in his chest.

"I was curious," he replied, shrugging. His face burned, with both embarrassment and sappy pleasure. "I thought maybe it would be nice."

"Oooooh." Gerry grinned wickedly, "We'll have to keep trying, then. You know, for investigative purposes. We can't leave a hypothesis improperly explored."

Jon silenced his nonsense by drawing their lips back together, and Gerry happily obliged him. At that moment, Gerry decided to make every kiss better than the one before, so Jon would always feel the need to come back for more.

It turned out they enjoyed kissing one another very, very much. Gerry still appreciated everything Jon offered him and never pressured him for anything more, or extra, or too much. Jon was still steady but wild. Gerry always seemed to end up shirtless. Young infatuation was a beautiful thing, both to behold and to endure.

*******

By the time Jon meets Martin, he's kissed a few more people.

Georgie, for two dizzy years in grad school. Tim, on one memorable and drunken misadventure. A few others sprinkled here and there.

But he couldn't remember ever feeling that same reckless drive to push himself into someone else's space and live in their gravity, the way it had been during those breathless months with Gerry.

As soon as he lets his unfounded anger for Martin's mere presence in his orbit fade, Jon feels himself drawn to Martin's magnetism. His kindness, his gentleness, his constant awareness of Jon's mood and wellbeing.

The way he brings him tea even though he would have insisted he didn't like it and didn't want it. Martin did it anyway because Jon could let it cool or drink it, but the gesture behind it stood all the same.

Jon doesn't imagine that Martin could ever forgive his months of snide remarks and cold disregard, but he does, and Martin somehow manages to like him anyway. Because that's just who Martin is, always finding something to love in even the most desolate places.

"Let me get you a taxi." Martin presses after a dinner date.

"Let me get you a taxi." Jon presses back.

"I live one block away!" Martin laughs and can't resist pulling Jon towards him by the elbows. Jon grabs his lapels with sloppy confidence born of laughter and wine.

The air is full of gentle moisture, not quite raining, just blanketing the world enough that they feel locked away in their own world for the moment. Nevermind that they live in one of the most populous cities in the world. At that moment there is nothing but Jon and Martin and the warmth between them, forging an intoxicating attachment to rattle the stars.

"I want to kiss you," Martin whispers the confession into the space between them, pressing their foreheads together and breathing Jon's air.

"I really wish you would," Jon offers him in return.

Their lips press together gently, deliberately. Martin is taller than Jon by enough that he gets the supreme satisfaction of dragging him slightly up towards him, crowding into his normally sacred personal space.

For a moment, they feel airborne, standing in their huddle of space and time. Their lips move together, dragging and drugging them.

Martin gasps softly as they pull apart to breathe, all their emotion pouring out into the space between them.

"Come home with me," Martin pleads softly. "Just- for time together. I don't want this to end."

"Yes," Jon whispers back, "I think I would like that very much."

It is only one block away, and they walk hand in hand, pausing occasionally to press soft lips together again and again.

*******

Gerry tries to keep a balance of spending time with both Martin and Jon and seeing them separately. He also makes sure to give them space to be together on their own, and never inserts himself between them.

Even after several months, he feels like a guest in their relationship, and for the time being, he doesn't mind existing in that space. He finally knows he wants to keep them both, and he is willing to wait for the natural progression of their relationship to carry them along.

He is still willing to do his part in it, of course.

Gerry likes to go into the bookstore, get flirted with by Tim, flirt with Martin in return. Drink tea or coffee and read books on the comfortable couch in the corner, all the while watching Martin brew drinks and care for his customers.

Martin works 5 or 6 days most weeks, often helping man the counter himself, between the admin of running the place and herding Tim and various baristas. So Gerry is quite taken aback when he goes in early one Monday afternoon to find Martin nowhere in sight.

After a quick check with Jon to make sure it's not a normal absence, Gerry makes his way the short walk to Martin's flat.

At first, there's no answer to his knock. He knocks again. He texts Martin's cell. He calls it too. A pit settles into his stomach, although he knows it's far too early to panic.

He knocks one more time and even calls out for Martin through the door, before going quiet to listen.

After a few nerve-wracking moments, Martin does actually open the door a crack, peering out at Gerry with red, tear-stained eyes.

"Martin? Are you okay, love?" Gerry tries to push forward, but the door doesn't open any further. "I brought you tea. From the shop, even, so it's definitely good."

"Why?" Martin asks in such a bleak voice that Gerry is taken aback.

"I-" He starts, mouth gaping at Martin's completely alien manner. "I thought you might like it. That it would bring you some comfort if you were sick or something."

"Or something," Martin says, the total blank sadness in his voice filling Gerry with biting concern.

"Please let me in." He presses his hand more firmly into the door, and Martin eventually yields, although Gerry knows from unfortunate personal experience that it's more from lack of caring than anything.

"Make yourself at home, I guess." Martin offers the space ahead of him as he moves further into his flat. He collapses on the couch, curling into a fetal position on the cushions.

Gerry's heart burns, both with sympathy and empathy. He has an idea of what might be causing such a bad relapse of Martin's depression, although the topic of mothers is always carefully danced around between the three of them. He puts the tea down in grabbing distance and he goes to Martin's wardrobe to fetch his favorite fluffy blanket.

"You don't have to tell me what's wrong. But I want to be here for you." Gerry tells him firmly as he wraps Martin up in it. "Is there anything specific I can do for you or do you want me to suggest some stuff?"

Martin blinks up at him. "I don't know…"

"I can put the TV on and sit nearby. I know I don't have Jon's voice, but I could read to you. Put on a podcast?" Gerry throws out the suggestions, keeping his tone gentle and neutral. He doesn't want Martin to sense that this is difficult for him in any way. He can process his own emotions later.

"Anything." Martin shifts over onto his side as silent tears resume a steady trail down his face. Gerry walks over to the bookcase and selects a book he has seen Martin reading a dozen times, the spine well broken and the pages yellowing.

He sits on the floor in front of Martin, near enough for him to hopefully be able to absorb some of the goth's errant body heat. He starts reading, keeping his cadence slow and steady, hoping to provide comfort and grounding.

He reads for almost an hour, and he thinks Martin actually sleeps through most of it. He drinks the tea, although it's already cold.

Eventually, he slows to a stop and closes the book, but doesn't move, hoping Martin will stay sleeping.

"I'm sorry." Gerry is startled by Martin's croaky voice and turns to look at him.

"You have nothing to apologize for."

"I do," Martin starts, rubbing at his checks and sitting up against the armrest. "I'm a disaster and you had to come all this way and waste all this time just because I can't get my shit together."

Gerry's eyes narrow at this nonsense, but his tone remains gentle. "None of the time I spend with you is ever wasted. I care about you and I want to be here for you. I wish you had called me or Jon so that we could have come sooner."

Martin's face falls at the mention of their mutual boyfriend's name. "Of course. You came for Jon. It would have been pretty bad if he had seen this mess."

"That is not what I said, and it's not what I meant." Gerry's voice rises, from hurt at Martin's words, at the way his mental state twists Gerry's heart in his chest. He pulls himself up onto his knees, putting himself firmly in Martin's personal space and leaning in close so Martin can't avoid his eyes or his words. "Martin, allow me to make myself completely clear. Because I won't allow you for one second longer to believe that you are some kind of consolation prize for me, that I tolerate your presence because I feel like you and Jon are a package deal. That anything I do to show you affection or effort is for Jon's benefit. You are a gift to me. The way I feel for you is completely independent of my feelings for Jon. I love us all together, but you. You fill me with hope and laughter and the warmth of a perfectly brewed cup of tea. I want you just as much as I want Jon, and my heart will never be the same if you were to walk away from me. Please don't push me away because you think I only feel this way about Jon. Because that is the furthest thing from my truth."

His declaration sits heavy in the air between them for a moment, almost shimmering where Gerry can practically see it hanging in the air.

"But, I-"

"No, no buts. I'll accept 'thank you, Gerry, you light up my life too, Gerry.' No arguments. No buts. This is a space where we can accept that people love us."

"Thank you, Gerry," Martin says slowly, pulling Gerry closer to hold the sides of their faces together. Gerry wraps his arms around Martin and rocks them gently. "You fill life with colour, my Gerry."

"Much better, love. I'd really like to kiss you now, if you-" Gerry breaks off as Martin pulls him closer and slots their lips together. The kiss is full of desperate desire to bring Martin closer to Gerry and further from his forsaken loneliness.

Gerry slides himself up off the floor, not breaking contact, and sits astride Martin's lap. Martin sneaks his hands up the back of his shirt, hands confident and familiar from months of tactile flirting and easy affection.

Gerry anchors himself to Martin, and Martin anchors himself to Gerry, and at that moment they feel the nexus of their relationship, both with each other and with Jon, lock firmly into place.

#the magnus archives #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #gerry keay #jongerrymartin #gerard keay #also on ao3

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gem-quest · 5 years ago

Text

[ I N F E R N A . . . ]

Real Name: Victoria Chang (goes by “Vicky”)

Age: 22

FC: Hoyeon Jung

Species & Class: Fire-Mage, Rogue

Guild: Obsidian

“Middle finger up, F you pay me” —Blackpink, Boombayah

Description of In-Game Powers: Inferna (Vicky) can generate and manipulate fire. She should theoretically be able to put it out, too, and control it in a more precise way, but so far, no luck. Over-using this ability results in dizziness and fatigue.

In addition, Inferna has a natural affinity for fire-related ability scrolls, potions, and items. She is invulnerable to fire, though water and being underwater in general gives her up to -2 in defense.

Place of Birth: The suburbs surrounding Baltimore, USA

Appearance: Although Inferna’s natural hair color is black (technically, dark brown), she had it dyed red when she first got to college. In-game, she changes her hair color very often, utilizing a bunch of H-rank potions that are only there for cosmetic effects. She also gives herself a bunch of face tattoos in-game, just because she can. Currently, she has some of the lyrics from Blackpink’s DDU-DU DDU-DU tattooed around the area of her left eye, like so.

“I just think that it’s kind of lame that there isn’t even a Starbucks out here. I mean, all this fancy mead is fine and all, but sometimes I just really want a frap, you feel me?”

Places Most Likely to be Found In-Game: Inferna adores the Level 7 Tearoom. She’s always been keen on spilling the tea, both literally and metaphorically (plus the sweet treats don’t hurt!).

Inferna’s also a pretty regular sight in Yue City, trying to market her Inferna Sauce and Inferna Sriracha to beginner players.

Current Inventory:

Flaming daggers x4

Regular daggers x2

Pocketknife x1

Silver dust x5

Dispelling amulet x1

Crossbow x1

Ignitium potion x2

Lock picking set x1

Ictuium potion x7

Black pearls x3

Blue pearls x3

“Inferna Sauce” (AKA hot sauce that tastes like Lao Gan Ma/chili sauce that she made using in-game ingredients to spice up the bland-ass white people food available in the marketplaces) x10

“Inferna’s Sriracha” (same deal ^^^) x14

Shortsword x1

Murmurationium x1

Assorted sweet treats from the Tearoom x22

+ assorted foodstuffs/drinks, and more coins than anyone would ever need because she’s such a goddamn hoarder

Strongest Character Trait: Flippant

“Leak college textbook pdf files, not nudes. Jeez.”

Strengths: Inferna’s a total boss at League of Legends (she was Diamond before she decided to check out Gem Quest), meaning that she’s pretty familiar with a lot of the game mechanics that GQ was founded on; in-game, she’s very good at appearing out of nowhere and then fucking off with whatever she decided that she wanted to steal; despite the fact that she thinks computer science is boring as all hell, she’s not bad at it - she hasn’t failed so far, which is a sign that she must be doing something right; somehow passing 3 years of CS courses means that Inferna’s pretty well-versed in a variety of programming languages (Python, Java, Haskell, Ruby, C++, etc); has a very good memory, despite her general flightiness; her in-game character is very speedy, if not always very stealthy; quick reflexes and good hand-eye coordination (Inferna would like to thank her eleven-odd years of playing League); a natural curiosity about the game has led to Inferna exploring all the little nooks and crannies of every level she’s been to so far, so she knows about many little secret passageways and the like

Weaknesses: In real life, Inferna’s primary motivations are 1) food, and 2) being petty, and this is definitely true in-game as well - the primary difference being that in real life, Inferna does not have the ability to whip out flaming daggers whenever she wants to; in general, Inferna is ready to throw hands way too often for it to be healthy; very reckless and impulsive; tends to jump to conclusions and rush into things without thinking it through; fickle as actual fuck; flighty and easily distracted; probably more fixated on trying all the pastries in the Tearoom than actually clearing the game; stubborn, headstrong, and bullheaded when she focuses on something long enough to decide that she wants it, no matter what - Inferna has a very ‘my way or the highway’ attitude; can and will pack so many meme and vine references into one sentence that it’s practically incomprehensible; what is self-control?; is avoiding all her responsibilities 24/7

Player Stats: Inferna’s got pretty high strength stats for her class, mostly because she decided to spec into fire-mage abilities (”Honestly, I just wanted to be like Uncle Iroh from ATLA and breathe flames from my mouth”), but her cautiousness is abnormally low for a rogue.

STRENGTH: 8

DEFENCE: 7

CHARISMA: 6

PSYCHE: 5

WILLPOWER: 7

CAUTIOUSNESS: 3

AGILITY: 9

ENDURANCE: 7

INTELLIGENCE: 6

LUCK: 5

Inferna’s general personality is better suited to being a Knight or a Rider, but on the intro screen she read that Rogues tended to get easy money, so she was immediately sold.

Personality: Well, to be perfectly frank, Inferna is...kind of a bitch (and, in real life, she was kind of an attention whore as a teenager, though she mellowed out a bit once she got to college). Inferna's perfectly aware of this, but she also like, doesn't care. With her sarcastic and irreverent sense of humor, Inferna is flippant and frivolous, always brushing other peoples' concerns and criticisms off with a breezy "eat a dick" (or something along those lines). Inferna is also a bit vain, especially when it comes to her hair, and has a very irreverent/ironic sense of humor (and she always appreciates a good nerdy science pun).

Although she really isn't the nicest person around, Inferna’s outgoing nature and spunky spontaneity (paired with a healthy dose of snarkiness) has still made her a couple of friends (and said friends are usually just as thick-skinned as Inferna can be). She's a bit too cocky and reckless for her own good, and she can be blunt to the point of being cruel. Inferna has no sense of tact nor subtlety whatsoever, and she means something when she says it. Inferna's not afraid of confronting someone head-on, and she has absolutely no patience for pussies who would rather subtweet her than talk trash to her face.

Flighty and fickle, Inferna's not always very good about texting back or making plans. She's extremely petty and makes way too many smart remarks for her own good, and has quite the temper on her - Inferna is both easily excited and easily angered, and can be rather capricious if she hasn’t had any coffee. However, she's also quick to forgive (if not necessarily to forget), and she can be surprisingly perceptive and observant sometimes. Inferna's a bit of a hypocrite in that she's not afraid to call out stupid bullshit when she sees it, but she's also very much full of bullshit herself, a fact that she will freely admit to. And although she doesn't seem to take anything seriously, Inferna can and will hold a grudge until the end of time if you piss her off enough.

Finally, some people can find her downright annoying, which Inferna is also perfectly fine with. She's quite self-aware, despite what one may think after interacting with her, and she's definitely not as clueless or oblivious as some people think she is-it's just a matter of if she cares enough to confront somebody about something. And, spoiler alert: nine times out of ten, she doesn't.

“I do things for two reasons, and two reasons only: 1) spite, 2) the aesthetic. That’s it.”

Biography: Inferna had a pretty normal childhood, all things considered; she was a rebellious kid for sure, but her parents were patient with her and let her do what she wanted, so long as her grades didn’t slip (granted, her mom was pretty pissed when she decided that she wanted red hair on a whim one day and just went ahead and got it dyed, but beyond an annoying lecture, there were no other consequences). Inferna got into the gaming scene pretty quickly as a kid - she passed over stupid games like Call of Duty for ones where she could fuck people up and look cute, like League of Legends or World of Warcraft.

Inferna got into a fairly decent public university in Baltimore, and was subsequently pressured into pursuing an undergrad degree in computer science by her parents. Inferna thinks that CS is alright - it’s not her favorite thing in the world, but it’s not unbearably boring like reading wack ass Shakespeare plays and then bullshitting a 2000-word essay about it - and so far, she’s passed all her classes. Which has to count for something, right?

Inferna decided to check out Gem Quest not long after it was released to the public, during the summer after her sophomore year of college. The only reason she really decided to was because she was tired of forking over $10 for each damn skin in League, and with a game like League, what was the fucking point if she couldn’t have a cute character? She slowly got more into it as time went on - the character customization options were absolutely gorgeous, plus she liked being able to actually sample the in-game foods - and it was strangely freeing, in a way, to be able to go on her own adventures and explore everything the levels had to offer. A way better use of her time than sitting in the library trying to debug her goddamn code, in Inferna’s opinion.

As Inferna began to take Gem Quest more seriously, she built a reputation for herself as That Bitch (TM).Thanks to her penchant of hoarding items and coins, she has gotten quite coin-rich, and thanks to her affinity with games that were similar to Gem Quest, she quickly advanced through the easier levels.

Inferna was...surprisingly nonchalant, regarding G’s recent announcement that players could not freely leave the game anymore. She figures that if something horrible happens, she can always steal a relinquium potion from some rando, but until then, she’s just going to enjoy life. G told the real world about the development, Inferna’s assuming, meaning that her parents won’t be expecting her anytime soon. It’s selfish of her to just leave them out there worrying about her, really, but Inferna doesn’t want to go back to the real world, not just yet - one day, she’ll steal that relinquium potion and finish her degree like she’s supposed to, get a 9-5 office job like she’s supposed to, spend all her time on boring software development like she’s supposed to - but right now, she just wants to have some fun.

Relationships:

ENTHRONED - Inferna met Neddy for the first time in Finvarra’s Gardens (Level 10), which Inferna beat a long time ago but returned to because she remembered that the level had the most gorgeous pastries (she forgot that eating/drinking anything would trap her on the level for the rest of the game). Neddy reminded her of that rule, and Inferna spent an inordinate amount of time fawning over Jack like he was a puppy (before asking to ride him, which Neddy agreed to). Inferna thinks Neddy is super cute and generally likes both her and Jack.

Eventually: realizing that Inferna and Plagueis have run into each other before + Inferna has heard the rumors about him and Bloodbriars having the Supernova scroll, Inferna helping Neddy beat Level 30 because she thinks dodgeball is fun

MORNINGSTAR - Inferna met Morningstar in the depths of the Descend one day before the first event. Noticing Morningstar’s potioneering supplies, Inferna asked her if she had anything that would “make it feel like being high on weed, not this red gas stuff that’ll probably give me cancer” (Inferna’s not like, that big on weed, but she likes it on occasion, and kind of misses getting high).

Eventually: form a small two-person party together, Morn being all starry-eyed about Inferna telling her about how she’s fucked around in general (going to college parties, getting absolutely wasted, getting twisted, just generally dumb college freshman shit), somehow realizing that Inferna knows Emily through a League Discord server

CHAR -

Playlist:

"DDU-DU DDU-DU” by Blackpink

“Fire” by 2NE1

“Friends and Foes” by Higher Brothers ft. Snoop Dogg

“Dalla Dalla” by Itzy

“Icy” by Itzy

“My New Swag” by VAVA ft. Nina Wang & Ty

“Solo” by Jennie of Blackpink

“Boombayah” by Blackpink

“Just Like Fire” by Pink

“High Hopes” by Panic! at the Disco

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/ayzrules/leak-college-textbook-pdf-files-not-nudes-gq/

#char info #inferna #vicky #obsidian #character info

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thesvenqueen · 7 years ago

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The Mummy - Chapter 5

Rating: M (to be safe; gore, language) Main Pairing: Kristanna Summary: Hamunaptra. A place filled with history, legends and mystery. A place Anna Arendelle had only dreamed of finding since she was a little girl. When it seems faith supplies her with the opportunity to find this hidden city, she jumps head first at the chance to find it. But a revengeful mummy, an apocalyptic curse, a deadly adventure (and possibly love) where not exactly on her list of things to discover. Previous Chapters: [ P 1 2 3 4 ]

Notes: So uh....there is legit no excuse. Lost all inspiration and will to write tbh. Really don’t know why but yeah, that was a thing. So here we are, updating this after nearly a year now. Oops. I am so sorry but...yeah...

It was a calming night along the river, one that should have put Anna’s mind at ease. Unfortunately, it was doing nothing of the sort.

She had come out of her cabin for a bit of light reading before bed; hoping the calming roll of the ship, the gentle breeze, the calmness of it all would help ease her mind and lull her to sleep. With a sigh, she twisted her necklace as she stared out into the water in frustration.

It wasn’t even about the fact they had finally, finally, found a bit of adventure. That she had gotten herself out of the library that was keeping her awake. Nor was it the idea of finding a lot city that only so few had claimed to have visited.

Oh no.

Her frustration came from the stupid leader of their group.

It wasn’t even because he was a grump. Which yes, quite frankly he was one large grump of a man that never seemed to be happy.

Even before boarding the boat, when Sven had tried to be cheerful with him, Kristoff had been nothing but short and unsure of Sven’s friendliness.

Anna simply assumed the whole betrayal thing that happened between the two might play a part in it. She honestly couldn’t blame him for being so unsure of her brother’s actions, he had played him once before. Trusting her brother was no easy task.

Nor was it that his manners were absolutely horrendous.

Though now that she thought about it, he had helped them with their bags onto the boat. Had carried them all to their respected cabins as well, not leaving till he was sure they were all settled in. Well, more her than Sven really.

No, it was none of that though Anna wished it were.

It was because the moment he had come into view at the docks, she had all but gaped at him.

She had been so unsure he would arrive in the first place. After getting him out of the prison, they had gotten him a hotel room. Something she felt they owed him for nearly getting him killed thanks to her brother’s idiocracy.

He, Kristoff, was a man of few words she found. Whether it be because of his unsureness of Sven or what, he barely spoke more than a simple ‘Thank you’ after giving him the key. It had been a small risk, as Sven pointed out, seeing as he could simply up and run with his new found freedom.

But a day later, they received a note from him, giving them a time and place along the docks to meet within two days time.

The man that appeared at the docks, however, was not the one she had expected to see.

No more was the rugged man with a long, unkempt beard or long hair. His hair was cut significantly shorter, pushed back away from his face to show off his brown eyes. His beard was gone, aiding in the disappearance of the ruggedness Anna had seen back within the prison. His rags were now replaced with a new set of travel clothes, along with a holster for his two handguns.

With his one bag slung over his shoulder, eyeing the crowd around him, Anna had to take pause in realizing this was the same Kristoff she had seen not just a few days before.

This new appearance had made Anna blush as he eyed her, hoping to all God’s above he thought she was simply red from the sun.

Anna groaned and covered her face with her book.

She was already embarrassed enough from her...spontaneous reaction at the prison.

Now realizing he was also ridiculously attractive…

And incredibly tall I mean, yeah she was not that tall but the man seemed to loom over her and though at first intimidating, it made her stomach all but flip now at his height advantage of her…

And his eyes, his soft, chocolaty eyes…

And holy wow how were his biceps not ripping his shirt...

Anna sighed in annoyance, leaning her head back in her chair.

It didn’t matter because she was the weird librarian who had kissed the man in excitement without thinking and had completely embarrassed herself to the point of never ever having a chance. And god had Sven given her so much grief for what she did, and now every time she made eye contact with Kristoff she couldn’t help but blush from embarrassment.

“Why?” Anna groaned, staring up at the ceiling above.

“Why what?”

Anna jumped, looking over to find Kristoff holding a rolled up tool belt in his hand and looking at her with a small grimace.

Speak of the devil.

“Sorry,” he murmured, “Didn’t mean to startle you.”

Anna sighed, “It’s ok.”

He smiled apologetically at her, and Anna hoped to all the God’s he did not see the small blush rising to her cheeks.

“So, why what?”

“Pardon?”

Kristoff sat the tool set down, “You said why when I walked up?”

“Oh,” Anna said, biting her lip, “I...uh…” She glanced down at her book, “I...just don’t like this particular part of the book.”

“Ah.” Kristoff said with a nod, “bad part?”

“No.” Anna said, closing her book, “More like the main character is acting like a complete idiot.”

Kristoff smirked, unwrapping the tool set. Anna watched him unravel the tool set and upon seeing what was inside, became confused.

“Um…” Anna said, eyebrows furrowing, “did I miss something?”

Kristoff looked up at her.

Before them laid a multitude of different handguns, ammunition and a few knives tucked away for safekeeping, all sitting in their own designated spot within the leather holder.

Kristoff looked back down at his set and began to select certain parts within it, checking some and adding others to his holster or pockets. “What do you mean?”

“We are going to the lost city yes?”

“Yes.”

“So, why are you preparing as though we are going off to battle?”

Kristoff paused in adding a bullet into his handgun, looking away from his work and Anna could see his eyes become distant for a brief second. Then he sighed, continuing to load his weapon, “There is something out there. Something underneath the sand.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes.”

“What, is there a swarm of scorpions hidden beneath the city?”

“What? No.”

“Oh, then a cave full of snakes then?”

“No.” Kristoff replied, a hint of frustration in his voice.

“Then what could lie beneath the sand that has you loading and preparing yourself to fight an army.”

Kristoff paused briefly once more, “Look, um..lady” he said after a moment.

“It’s Anna.”

“Right, Anna.” he sighed, and got back to loading his weapons, “I don’t...I don’t expect you to understand or believe me but just...trust me on this.” He added the last bullet into the chamber, gave it a quick spin then clicked it into place and back into his holster. “We are going to need these.”

Anna eyed him, holding back the quick retort that sat at the tip of her tongue. She knew Hamunaptra to be nothing but a lost city, most likely half buried in the sand. But she had never been there, had never seen it, had only heard such from books and legends.

Kristoff, however, had witnessed it first hand (or so he claimed). She wanted to be skeptical, but the seriousness in his tone, the look in his eyes made her think otherwise.

She simply nodded, gripping her book a bit tighter.

“Well,” she said after a moment, “as long as we find what I am looking for--”

“And what is that exactly?”

“Well, for my brother, he thinks it’s treasure.”

“Not surprised.”

“But I am looking for a book.”

“A book?”

“Yes, a special book.” Anna said with a grin, a bit of excitement coming to her, “The Book of Amun-Ra.”

Kristoff looked down at her, a smirk on his lips. “The Book of Amun-Ra?”

“Yes!” Anna said excitedly, “It contains all the secret incantations of the old kingdom. It’s something our parents used to talk about all the time. It’s what really got me interested in Egypt really. It’s kind of become a dream of mind to find it.”

“And the fact that it’s made entirely of solid gold doesn’t interest you at all?”

“Don’t mention that too loudly or you’ll get my brother riled up.” Anna huffed a laugh, “But no, not for me at least. I’ve always been more interested with what’s inside it more than anything.” She smirked at him, “I see you know your history then.”

Kristoff began to carefully roll the leather tool set back up, “I know my treasure.”

“Ah,” Anna said, “you sound like my brother.”

He tied the string around the leather belt, “Should I take that as an insult?”

Anna giggled, “No, Sven’s a good man I promise.”

“Funny way to show that.”

“Well, most of the time he is. When it doesn’t involved treasure...or money...or…” Anna blinked, “Ok, sometimes he is a good person. He just has his moments.”

Kristoff huffed a laugh, putting the set under his arm. “Right, I’m sure he does. I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“You might be waiting a bit.”

He chuckled at that, bringing a smile to Anna’s face. He nodded, turning to leave but there was one more thing that was nagging her, “Kristoff?”

He paused, “Yeah?”

“Um,” Anna gulped, she needed to clear the air. “I...uh...about the prison..”

“What about it?”

“Well,” she bit her lip looking down, “not really the prison, but...what happened at the prison..”

“What do you...oh...oh.”

Anna felt the heat coming to her cheeks, and forced herself to look up at him. He was awkwardly rubbing his neck, looking anywhere but her.

“I’m...I’m sorry. I was impulsive and didn’t mean to. I just got so, so, so excited about you saying yes and I don’t know what came over me but it was an accident and I’m so sorry. I probably made it so awkward and you probably feel just as awkward as I do and I just want to apologize because that was so rash and--”

“Hey, Anna, look,” Kristoff cut in, Anna noticing the slightest bit of red on his cheeks. “I um...It’s ok. If you want, we can just pretend it never happened?”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah...never happened.”

“Oh,” Anna said, nodding, “yes, never happened. Good...ok, yeah.”

Kristoff gave a soft smile, nodding to her “Well, see you at breakfast.” And turned towards the cabins.

“Night!” Anna called, biting her lip as he walked off. As he disappeared from view, Anna wondered why at his claim to act as though the kiss had never happened had caused her to feel a slight twinge of disappointment.

#kristanna #kristoff #anna #jessica writes #the mummy #yo look #i wrote something #it's a christmas miracle holy shit #lol #it's a heaping pile of shit but yo #it's something I guess lol

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valeisbeinghellaproductive · 4 years ago

Text

May 23/4, 2021

Yo yo yo guys welcome to me being a very interesting productive person :) i will have 1 post per day just to boost productivity, some days may include smaller things & others may not, that’s not being i didn’t do those thing son other days, but some days you just need to boost yourself up more. this may lowkey turn into a diary (because the formatting of tumblr is every similar to evernote & honestly that’s all i need), but I’ll always summarize the stuff I did at the top, after a short paragraph like this :) I won’t interact with people much with this but I’d love if people followed so I’d feel like I wasn’t just yelling into the void. If I get more attached to Tumblr I may a more “social” blog later :)))))

i’m really happy tbh because this may be all it takes to feel self autonomy & get over my stupid ass executive dysfunctioning :)))

since i’ve given myself 9-now hours to do whatever i want, i have given some goals below, then for the 5 hours after that, before school stuff i HAVE to do :))))

9h-- btw if i do literally nothign here that’s ok, the goal is to do WHAT I WANT & not feel like time is running out or guilt myself for it, while still, y’know, not going into a depressive episode & avoiding the world

read, suggestions:

the history textbook, if you feel so inclined, lol

gender theory

communist theory

the great gatsby

a brief history of time

dd (location unknown)

anna kareina

the music theory 1 !!!

sister’s superhero book

tumble & blue ig

library-- renew shit, bike there, make the list

sewing-- pants

learn knitting, crotcheting

playing i/me/yself or cruella de vil on piano

duolingo

finish get access

write a song !!

go biking

make the lsit of things to text people-- text & call people because you CAN

clean room, dubay, eat

bike for boba/ice cream

meet someone

ab w/o, general w/o

learn 3d modeling (that app)

learn how to remix things

organize phone :/

add the discord attachments

brush teeth :D

redraw OCs (esp. they)

go skateboarding, rollerblading

mentally prepare for working HARD <3

make an animation

sew patterns on clothes

content creation

i’ll add more as i find more

as the halfway point is reached, some rather specific things i’d like to do:

go on a short walk/skateboarding

finish 3 books (specifically the communist manifesto, a brief history in time, & anything else)

read my friends fanfic & look through her PPT

draw several pages of art, specifically anatomy/posing & cats

finish the OC

finish another art piece PLEASE

draw myself another profile picture

go on a midnight fruit picnic (& brush my teeth @ back)

clean my room

do the dumbass w/o <3

laundry

take out the dubay

broom downstairs (?)

play a SHORT EASY song on the guitar

play i/me/myself, at least partially, on piano

write for an hour <3

chapstick

LOOK HOW MUCH POTENTIAL LESS THAN DAY HAS !!

japanese video lesson thing

japanese script (send to tutor, actually)

precalc 2 vls

precalc 3.5 wa s

precalc review

+ extra notes

chem wa

precalc check tests

chem WS

english reread that part of life of pi

history read & take notes from textbook

japanese extra notes

chem review notes

pi project

ok so this whole thing was lowkey a test on, if i could literally do “anything”, limited only by my fear & laziness, what would i do? because otherwise, tbh guys, i’m either chasing something or avoiding the chase. point is, Sudbury schools would do WONDERS for me, so far, i have:

texted a friend :) (she did text me first, but i don’t think you get how rare it is for me to have a conversation)

gone on a discord voice call (on a study server tbh, but some dude gave me a friend request swo O-o)

i streamed on twitch?? & like changed up the whole channel look too?

i literally wasn’t toxically on social media-- possibly because i impulsively deleted tiktok while breaking down & freed up THIRTY FIVE PERCENT of my storage, cuz of the # of drafts... ANYWAY uhhhh i try not to think about it

i embroidered half a flower

i listened to the beginning of the communist manifesto

i drew a draft of my OC redesign

more reflection: if there was a healthy way to mix my hobbies into creativity, i would do it, but my inherent opposition to authority & things i’m “supposed to” do, no matter how fun they’d theoretically be ++ my parents being toxic as hell if i EVER take a break leading to issues w the grayscale means it would be much harder, & the main issue in my situation rn + previous situations has been my procrastination meaning the 2 separate like oil & water but my free time is only anxiously & attempting-to-dissociate-ly spent :/ idk how to explain the grayscale comment tbh, so hopefully it makes sense

#productivity #study aesthetic #i'm so cool #pay attention to me #hi

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stansbooty · 8 years ago

Text

unspoken thing ii

“When are we gonna do something about this unspoken thing between us?”

warnings: none

words: 3480

ao3 link || 1

chapter 2: sophomore year

Eddie assumed he would be lucky enough to be able to start a new school year with the intentions of focusing on his studies and enjoying life with his friends. He swore his body lit on fire and his brain threw a riot when Richie Tozier walked into his English class on the first day. The boy had grown taller, his clothes had gotten darker, his hair longer, but damn, was he just as loud as ever.

“New year, folks!” He exclaimed when he walked into the class, slinging his backpack off his shoulder onto the table Eddie has sat at and sitting across from Eddie. “Hey there, Eds.”

“Not my name, Tozier.”

“Eds, Eds, Eds,” Richie shook his head and grinned. “You can’t control what comes out of my mouth.”

Eddie bit back a remark, deciding to leave it be and not let Richie get into his head on the first day of classes. Ben Hanscom, who had sat down at his table only seconds before Richie, gave him a look at pity.

“Hey, Eddie.” He felt a hang on his back and looked over to see Bill sitting down next to him.

Eddie grinned at him. “Bill, thank god you’re here, Tozier is going to drive me mad.”

“Hey!” Richie protested and Bill rolled his eyes.

Their English class consisted mostly of group discussions and projects. Something about being a “collaborative” class. The only thing Eddie got from that was that Richie would be able to speak almost constantly. And the only thing the teacher could tell him to do was to control the volume of his voice.

Richie turned out to have some decent things to say, and it shocked Eddie that he could say things that weren’t jokes and it shocked him even more that Richie had even done the summer reading of The Tale of Two Cities. Eddie decided not to speak much, Ben seemed to be pretty passionate about the book and he allowed the two friends to bicker about the character development while he sat back and watched.

About half way through the class Richie directed his attention away from Ben and towards Eddie. “Are you going to chime in, Eds?”

“Why should I when you’re so passionate about Sydney Carton?” Eddie responded nonchalantly.

“Sorry for doing the assignment.” Richie said, a smile plastered on his face to show he was only teasing.

“W-we were letting you t-two have your debate.” Bill spoke up.

“That’s very thoughtful, Billy boy, but I want to hear what Spaghetti has to say.” Richie rested his chin in his hands and looked at Eddie intently.

“Spaghetti?” Eddie raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah, like Eddie Spaghetti. It rhymes.”

“Please, please, don’t call me that.” Bill and Ben both snickered and Eddie turned his head to his friend. “Don’t encourage him.”

“He has nicknames for everyone,” Ben told him, smiling lightly. “He doesn’t stop.”

“You love my nicknames, Haystack, don’t lie.” Richie nudged Ben with his elbow.

“No, I tolerate them.” He said but his face was full of affection for his friend.

“Well, Eds here will learn to love them.”

Eddie did not learn to love the nicknames. Every other day he would show up to his English class and endure Richie’s endless stream of consciousness that just spilled out of his mouth. And every other day, Bill would be right next to him practically holding him back from stapling Richie’s mouth shut.

Eddie and Bill had met in the 1st grade, at the ripe old age of 5, on the playground during recess and Eddie had been ready to attack someone who had pushed Stan off the monkey bars, causing him to need to go the nurse. Bill, not having even known Eddie then, had grabbed his arms and dragged him away from the impending fight. Eddie had struggled against Bill but even at 5 years old, Bill towered over him.

While Stan and Eddie were best friends and had been since before they could talk, sometimes they were a bit too similar. Both were shy boys with firecracker personalities that could cause them to get into trouble if someone managed to rip down their timid exterior. If one was upset, the other was instantly by their side, emotions tumbling out of control without any context of the situation. This was where Bill came in. Bill was level headed and smart, assessing almost every situation and generally keeping Stan and Eddie out of constant trouble (they were surprisingly impulsive).

So it made sense that Bill would be the one to stop Eddie from jumping Richie during English.

“Eddie, do you have anything to add before we turn in the paper?” Ben asked politely. The boy often ignored Eddie’s fits of silent rage and continued on as if nothing was happening. He also tended to ignore Richie’s loud and boisterous nature so maybe it was something he’d picked up on after years of being friends with him.

“Can I read it over?” Eddie said and Ben passed the paper over to him.

Eddie’s eyes scanned the sheet, looking for anything that he could think of that could help them get their point across in their paper. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Richie with a smile on his face and his gaze fixed to the smaller boy. Eddie ignored him, reading the words but after having to reread the sentence nearly 10 times, his head snapped up.

“Do you need something?”

Richie smirked. “You’re cute when you concentrate.”

Eddie’s face turned red and he squinted his eyes in a glare before looking back down.

“Bill, how does Eddie not get mad at everything you say?” Eddie heard Richie ask.

“W-we’ve been f-friends for a while now.” Bill answered.

“But surely you’re not as uptight as him.”

Eddie tried to ignore the talking, his eyes swimming over the paragraphs. He knew he shouldn’t let Richie get under his skin so easily. He was just an annoying boy, and Eddie had dealt with annoying boys before. In fact, Eddie got frustrated with the vast majority of the population of the school but managed to keep his emotions in check. Why was Richie able to mess him up so badly?

“Richie, how about you turn in the paper?” Ben asked his friend once Eddie handed the it back.

Richie simply saluted in response, getting up with paper in hand. Once he was out of earshot, Ben leaned forward.

“Bev and Richie were friends way before I knew either of them. They’re very similar in a lot of ways but one difference is that Bev tries to keep her impulsive words in check.”

Eddie cocked an eyebrow up in confusion, looking at Ben as if he was expecting more.

The boy continued. “I love them both. But Richie doesn’t know when to stop.”

Bill snorted. “You c-could say that.”

“I know, I know.” Ben sighed. “But he’s not a bad guy, is what I want to say. A lot to handle, trust me, and loud as hell.”

Eddie crossed his arms. “He annoys me.”

“He annoys me, too.” Ben laughed, no venom behind his words.

Ben’s words echoed throughout Eddie’s head for a while. With every crude joke Richie made, every one of his snide comments or flirty compliments, Eddie just took a deep breath. He was getting better at being able to handle the boy’s rambunctious personality without wanting to reach across the table and rip his head off. Bill seemed to already consider Richie his friend, his previous face of annoyance being replaced with one of amusement, not unlike the looks Ben gave him. Eddie, however, took a bit more convincing that Richie was any more than just an immature boy who couldn’t keep his thoughts to himself.

One time Eddie smiled at a joke Richie told without even thinking about it, Richie’s eyes went wide in shock and before Eddie’s smile could drop, Richie was raising a fist in the air in a victory stance. It took two weeks for the loud boy to let the incident go and since then, Eddie had vowed to not let his bitter guard down in front of Richie.

And although Eddie had grown quite fond of Ben, when their English teacher announced that for their next project they would need to be in groups of two, Eddie didn’t hesitate before he gripped Bill’s hand tightly, bringing it to his chest.

“Could you move any faster, Eds?” Richie chuckled.

“Bill and I just work really well together.” Eddie faked a sickly-sweet smile.

Richie gave him a knowing look but lets the topic go, standing up to go to the front of the class for the assignment papers. He came back with a grin a bit too big for Eddie’s liking.

“I have good news and bad news.” He sat down, not on the chair like a normal person but on the table, his legs swinging off the edge. “Bad news is that Mrs. Finch already assigned the partners. Good news is that I’m with Eddie Spaghetti.”

Eddie scoffed. “Nice joke.”

Richie just smiled and handed the papers in his hand over, each one with a set of partners printed on the top with the subject. The names “Eddie and Richie” clearly on the top of one, and “Bill and Ben” on the other.

Eddie shook his head, looking at Bill for support. “No, I want to work with Bill.”

Richie leaned over the table and grabbed Eddie’s hand slowly, bringing it up to his chest just like he had done to Bill’s only minutes before. He looked into Eddie’s eyes dramatically, “You’re with me.”

Eddie looks at him with wide eyes and lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, he could hear Bill and Ben laughing softly but his gaze was stuck on Richie’s cocky face. He took his hand back from Richie quickly, wrapping it around himself.

Richie scooted over (still on top of the table) so he was positioned in front of Eddie and took their assignment paper into his lap. “Do you want to work in the library or here?”

Eddie was slightly taken aback by the question. It was just that, a question. No jokes or innuendos or nicknames. “Um, it’s a bit loud in here, we can go to the library.”

Richie smiled and hopped off the table, going to the front of the classroom where the teacher was.

“You want to come, too?” Eddie spoke to Bill and Ben, in more of a pleading tone than an asking one.

“I think we’ll stay here.” Bill smiled, a glint in his eyes that shows Eddie he’s purposefully staying where he was.

Eddie scoffed softly before turning on his heel and following Richie out of the classroom. The two walked in silence, the halls of the school empty except for a few stragglers here and there as it was still in the middle of the period. Eddie had his hands resting in his pockets, his shorter legs putting his pace a few feet behind Richie.

“I’m sorry you got put with me.” Richie spoke up when they reached a table in the library.

Eddie looked up and he was met with a face of awkwardness and uncertainty, emotions that Eddie had never seen Richie display before.

“It’s no big deal.” Eddie tried to give him a comforting smile but he’s sure it didn’t look like he planned it to.

“I know you’d rather have been with Bill. Or even Ben.”

“Well to be fair, they’re nicer to me.” Eddie tried to lighten the tension a bit.

Richie managed to smile. “I’m nice to you, Eds.”

“In a mocking sort of way, sure.”

“Eddie Spaghetti!” Richie exclaimed, putting his hand over his heart in fake pain. “I would never mock you.” Eddie gave him a knowing look. “Okay, maybe a little bit of teasing. But never mocking.”

Eddie smiled, genuinely this time. The two were silent for a moment before the shorter boy cleared his throat. “I’m fine being your partner as long as you actually do the work.”

“I won’t let you down, Eds.”

Eddie was once again at a baseball game. This time, it was the opening game of the season and he was with Bill and Mike as well at Stan and Bev. The girl’s warm and witty personality managed to make Mike and Bill feel welcomed to the game, despite not knowing the two boys before. The teams were warming up, Eddie’s eyes chasing the ball as it was being thrown from player to player, the sound of his friends’ laughter filling his ears.

“Has he ever mentioned me?” Stan leaned in, whispering into Eddie’s ear.

“What?” Eddie looked away from the diamond.

Stan looked towards his friends, who were deep in conversation, before continuing. “Richie. Has he ever mentioned me?”

“Why would he?” Eddie asked. “Have you spoken to him since last year?”

“I smile at him in the hallways.”

“Oh, wow, I see you’re taking the flirting up a notch.”

Stan shoved Eddie’s shoulder softly. “Be quiet. I just figured, you know, aren’t you friends?”

“Friends?” Eddie glanced over to where Richie’s curls were falling out from under his baseball cap as he practiced swinging the bat. “I mean, we’re partners in English, but that’s it.”

Eddie saw a hint of jealousy swim through Stan’s eyes. “Do you think we could all…like, hang out together? Are you close enough to him for that?”

“You want me to ask Richie Tozier to hang out?” Eddie almost laughed at the thought.

“Please.” Stan was nearly begging and Eddie felt bad for his friend, hopelessly infatuated with a boy he really knew nothing about. A boy who he had only spoken to once but had managed to get a firm grip on his life.

“I’ll see.” Eddie tried to drop the subject.

“Please, I can’t bring it up to anyone else, you know that.”

“Stan, why -” Eddie was interrupted by a flurry of yelling, signaling the game was going to begin. He stopped speaking and looked over to Stan, who was looking at him with sad eyes. Eddie ignored him and looked out to where their team was going out into the field.

“Woo!” Bev yelled next to him. “You got it, boys!”

Ben and Richie’s heads turned immediately towards her, smiling and waving. Richie’s eyes then wandered slowly towards Eddie’s and their eyes locked. The players were a significant distance from the bleachers but Eddie could’ve sworn he saw him wink before turning to look at the first player at bat.

The game went slowly, as baseball games normally do in Eddie’s mind. They had the occasionally exciting moments, when a player would manage to get a really good hit or someone tried to steal a base, but for the most part, Eddie’s entertainment came in the form of Beverly’s screaming.

“Why do baseball pants try to kill me?” Stan leaned in for the second time that afternoon to whisper.

“Huh?” Eddie didn’t look away from the game.

“Their pants. It makes their asses look great. I mean, look at his butt, Eddie.”

Eddie turned his head to give Stan a confused look to which he responded with a simple shoulder shrug and a smile. Eddie looked back, his eyes falling down the backs of the players to their pants and he let out a soft breath. The pants were flattering.

“Don’t be a perv, Stan.” Eddie laughed softly.

“But I’m not lying.”

Eddie scanned across the diamond and his eyes finally landed on the boy he was looking for. He tried not to look but the tight baseball pants left nothing to the imagination and Eddie was staring at Richie before he even realized, his mouth going dry and his brain fuzzy. He heard Stan sigh contently next to him and he snapped out of his daze quickly.

They ended up losing the game but if Eddie was being completely honest, he wasn’t paying that much attention after Stan pointed out the pants. Before they walked down the bleachers, Beverly grabbed Eddie’s arm, halting him.

“It’s tradition that after the first home game, Ben, Richie and I go out. Would you guys like to join this year?” She asked, a friendly smile adorning her face.

“Yes,” Stan answered quickly, everyone turned to look at him. “I’m hungry.” He quickly added.

Beverly looked to the other three boys, head turned questioningly. Mike shrugged and Bill looked over to Eddie. “O-only if E-Eddie behaves.”

Bev let out a laugh as Eddie’s face heated up. “I know all about Eddie and Richie, don’t worry. It’ll be fun.” She swung an arm around his shoulder and led them down to the two sweaty boys coming out of the diamond.

“New people, again!” Richie exclaimed, looking at Mike. “Richie Tozier, at your service.”

“I’ve heard plenty about you from Eddie.” Mike grinned and introduced himself.

“From Eddie?” A grin rivaling the Joker stretched across Richie’s face. He flung himself over to Eddie, wrapping his arms around him. “Oh, I knew you loved me.”

“Get off,” Eddie groaned and shoved him off. “You’re sweaty and gross.” He could see out of the corner of his eye, Stan looking at them with a not so nice expression on his face. “Let’s just go.”

They end up all squished together in a booth at a little diner at the edge of town, it’s mostly empty which gives them the freedom to be loud without worrying about disturbing people’s meals. Beverly sat between Ben and Richie on one side of the booth while Mike, Bill and Stan were on the other side. Eddie took one for the team and pulled up a chair, sitting at the edge of the table.

Stan sat directly across from Richie and Eddie could feel his nervousness from his spot down the table. Richie was talking Stan’s ear off but Stan didn’t seem to have minded, looking at the boy with small smile, chin resting in his hand. Mike and Ben seemed to be hitting it off, talking so quickly about books and history that Beverly looked like she was struggling to keep up.

While everyone seemed to be distracted, Bill, who was sat at the end of the table closest to Eddie, looked over to him and spoke quietly. “H-has Stan admitted it y-yet?”

Eddie didn’t need to ask for clarification. “He doesn’t need to, look at him.”

Stan was laughing, his hand thrown over the table, gripping Richie’s arm. Bill glanced over before looking back at Eddie. “I guess.”

“Have you admitted it yet?” Eddie whispered.

Bill sputtered out a quick response. “W-w-what?” Eddie gave him a knowing look. “I-it doesn’t matter.”

“Stan will get over it, it’s just a silly infatuation. He’ll realize he’s annoying and you and Stan can fall in love.”

Bill rolls his eyes. “He d-doesn’t annoy a-anyone as much as he d-does you.”

Eddie chuckled. “Shut up, Bill.”

Stan doesn’t get over Richie. In fact, the seven of them hang out a lot more often and Stan becomes even more unbearable. It’s all Richie this, Richie that and only Eddie had to deal with the constant lovesick ramblings. Stan still hadn’t admitted his little crush to anyone else and it was soon going to make Eddie’s head explode.

The group’s hang outs became more and more frequent as the year progressed and by the time May had rolled around they had begun to have weekly movie nights, all piling into one person’s living room with junk food and blankets. Stan always made sure he was sitting next to Richie and Richie didn’t seem to mind someone always paying attention to him. In fact, he even stopped teasing Eddie as much. English not only became a lot less eventful, but when they were at their movie nights, Eddie found himself awkwardly sitting on an arm chair by himself, often not looking at the screen but at Richie. He sat expecting some sort of smart comment to be thrown his way, a joke, a nickname, anything. But the nights always came to a close without anything, only a simple, quick hug as Richie made his way out of the door.

Eddie told himself he was being stupid, thinking that he did something wrong to make Richie finally give up on trying to be his friend. They were all friends, the six other kids were the best friends Eddie had had in a long time (besides Bill and Stan, of course). He just felt weird without the constant bickering with Richie. They had almost a year of throwing comments back and forth at each other that now Eddie felt like something was off balanced without it.

He guessed things were more peaceful now, but it just seemed off.

tag list: @gazebhoes @i-is-gazebo

#finally got chapter 2 up #reddie fic #reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #it 2017 #it 1990 #it #mine #unspokenfic

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chug6344912302 · 4 years ago

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The Mysterious World Of Auto Leasing

Negotiate i'm able to seller to repay car lease transfer bills. If there are fees for filing credit application, you can ask the owner to pay. Original car holder's firm will prepare all lease contract. Make the car lease transfer by signing the lease hire. Carefully study the conditions, guarantees and mileage limit before signing the contract. You can purchase or return the car when lease contract gets outdated. You will have to pay extra charges for mileage overages and damages to n automobile. You should always check the vehicle for dents and mistakes. These details should be there in the 'due bill' document. Lease Company cannot hold you responsible for faults had been present ahead of commencement of lease loan agreement. 95% most F&B businesses for sale is advertised on the internet, to ensure that makes sense to start searching by surfing the net. If no computer is on offer at home, then go to any local Hyundai leasing Deals library. They will have one. 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Go to look and test drive only. Don't go for your checkbook. You run the risk of doing an impulse purchase. Be logical and emotionless. Test drive and measure the handling and responsiveness from the car you have an interest in. Along with walk on vacation. What wonderful way don't know is that there're circumstances where your a car insurance policy won't purchase your promise. Here are some of the reasons why they would deny a compensation claim (and have every right to do so). Speaking of financing, if getting credit is an element of the plan, than the Buyer possess at least 5 many years of F&B managerial experience, good credit and 20% down payment in cash - financial institutions will even do 10% down loans. If the Buyer owns real estate with 20% equity or more, expect the bank to collateralize the industry. And of course, the restaurant must have 3 years (some banks may only ask for just two years) of tax returns whereby the adjusted post tax profit is for around 33% for the selling selling price tag. In other words, a selling associated with $300,000 would command an adjusted net of $100,000 or more. Check with a CPA to analyze the true cash flow of firm. Auto leasing has be popular within the last many years and has attracted people around the globe. There make a number of reasons why using this method is typical. If you favor to lease a truck you become offered probably the most up until now models with the car outlets. You may make a decision to go for every hybrid car, a car which uses the latest electronic equipment installed, like an entertainment system. Whatever your need many be lease or hire, make sure the so when you are looking to get a supplier, you direct an efficient search through the internet. You can find all of the answers you need in a couple of minutes and maybe even get tied in with approach deals. So, don't waste your serious amounts of look for services that have been especially made to offer you ease and convenience. No doub it is the best you appear at leasing and hiring your future Hyundai leasing Deals. You need checking your latest credit profile a quarter or so before getting a car best auto lease deals since the whole process of correcting the errors throughout your credit file usually work for almost a month. Due to this, filing your complaint or petition that would correct result ahead of is significant. Many dealers will tell you that leasing is a larger deal than purchasing, and lure you in using the promise of low premiums. Sounds good initially but keep in mind there are loop crying. Many of the catches they don't explain would be long contracts and stiff penalties for ducking out early on your lease! Amongst other things like limited mileage allowances, and hefty repair costs with additional charges each and every mile going over your contracted restrain. Now you may mention that a mere .10 to .20 cents a mile isn't much but they will quickly mount up! August - September: The 2009s arrive so preserving the earth . Year-End-Clearance for your 2008s. Amongst three main car-buying functions. Great time for buyers, like Eddie, who keep their vehicles for most of the period your own time and don't care about depreciation. Choice for 08s remain good, as well as the Hyundai leasing Deals.

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unfolded73 · 8 years ago

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This Graceful Path (16/19)

Summary: Emma has just moved in with Mary Margaret and started working as a deputy in the Storybrooke sheriff’s department when she meets Killian Jones, the town’s introverted harbormaster. When a prominent Storybrooke resident is found murdered, Emma tries to juggle solving the case with new friendships, parenthood, and romance. A Season 1 Cursed!Killian AU.

Rating: Explicit per CSBB guidelines (violence, sex); more of an M on unfolded73’s scale. The sex, when we get there, is not extremely graphic in nature. Same with the violence.

Content Warning: This fic contains two major character deaths, one canon and one not. (You’re already past them.)

Total word count: ~ 75,000

Acknowledgements: Thank you to @j-philly-b for betaing this monstrosity. Thank you to @caprelloidea for all of the read-throughs and cheerleading; not sure I could have written it without your excitement early on. Thank you to @teruel-a-witch for the original prompt on tumblr which sparked this fic. Thank you to @pompeiiablaze for the wonderful art which accompanies Chapters 3, 9, and 16. Thanks to the CSBB mods ( @sambethe in particular, who had to look at my check-ins) for your support and for enduring my neuroses.

ART! The third and final of @pompeiiablaze‘s fantastic art pieces accompanies this chapter and is included below in the text. Go give her some love.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 – AO3 Link

Chapter 16

Emma looked at Killian, doing her best to harden her heart against the feelings she harbored. He was still in the same black jeans and black button down shirt he’d been wearing the day before, boots still on his feet. Two empty fifths of rum lay on their sides on the floor. “Jesus, Killian, did you drink all night?”

“Funny thing about being the Dark One,” he said, heaving himself up into a sitting position. His hair was a disheveled mess, as if he’d been unable to keep his fingers out of it. “Dark Ones don’t sleep. Also, apparently, they don’t get drunk.” He kicked one of the bottles, sending it spinning across the floor until its progress was arrested by one of his bookcases.

“Bummer. Look, I don’t mean to interrupt your… whatever this is, but I was hoping you would help me.”

He laughed a full-throated chuckle. “Why would I do that?”

“Because I think you still care about Henry’s well-being. The first thing you asked me after the curse broke was whether Henry was okay, and I believe you really meant it.”

He twitched, running his hand through his unwashed hair. “I don’t want anything bad to happen to the lad, that’s true.”

“Then help me with Regina.” She stepped closer. She knew she should be afraid that he would hurt her; he could probably kill her with a thought, but for some reason, she trusted that he wouldn’t. Perhaps only due to his lingering interest in Henry’s well-being, but whatever the reason, she trusted him that far.

“I get that what happened between us is over,” she said, keeping her voice remarkably steady, given the way her stomach was roiling. “But you’re the only person in this town that can stand up against Regina without getting a fireball in the face. I need to make sure she isn’t going to hurt anyone I care about, but also, Henry misses her. He doesn’t want to admit it to me, but I know he does.”

“Children can have complex feelings about abusive parents. The desire to please them doesn’t go away just because they beat you.”

Emma eyed him speculatively; he seemed to be speaking from experience. “Okay, but I don’t think she ever did anything like that.”

“Was she not gaslighting him to convince him that there was no curse?” Killian asked.

Emma sank onto the armchair next to Killian’s sofa. “Yeah, she was.” She put her head in her hands. “Look, if this was the regular world, I’d sue her for custody, and I’d take him as far away from her as I physically could. And it would be hard for him, and he’d probably grieve for her, and then he’d get better. But in this fucked-up fairy tale situation, that isn’t really an option. I don’t know what else to do. If he wants to see her, if he wants us to share custody, and I can be certain that he’s in no danger…” She shrugged helplessly, thinking about how sad it was that even after getting her heart broken, her instinct was to open up to Killian, to trust him.

He was looking at her with the same softness in his eyes she used to see before everything went to hell. It made her stomach swoop. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out, Swan. I’ve yet to see you fail.” He twitched again and looked angrily over his shoulder. “Get out of my head!” he shouted at the wall, his voice ragged.

“Killian?”

His hand was in his hair again, his eyes flickering with madness. “The darkness. It’s always there, whispering. Plaguing me.”

“You never wanted this, did you?” she asked softly, wanting to reach for him but resisting.

“I was hardly in my right mind when I killed Rumpelstiltskin,” he said. “Not able to make a conscious decision to take on the darkness. I had always hoped…” he trailed off.

“What?”

“I spent so many decades in Neverland because I wanted to find a way to kill the Dark One without the darkness transferring to me. Immortality was never my goal. Power was never…” He whirled again. “Begone, imp!” He picked up the other rum bottle and flung it at the wall, the glass shattering like a bomb. Emma jumped.

“Forgive me,” he muttered, waving his hand and making the shards of glass disappear in a puff of smoke. He turned to her again. “I will help you with Regina. Just tell me what you would like me to do.”

~*~

Regina opened the door to the library cautiously, the paper still covering the windows preventing her from seeing what she was walking into.

Emma Swan stood in the middle of the floor, her arms folded across her chest. Captain Hook, the Dark One, sat on top of the circulation desk.

“What the hell is the one-handed wonder doing here with you?” Regina asked.

“I’m here to as an impartial observer to this parlay, your majesty. Don’t mind me,” he drawled, his boots kicking against the desk.

Emma cleared her throat. “You tore my family apart, Regina, because of a mistake that my mother made when she was a kid. I spent my whole life alone because of you, assuming my parents abandoned me. Can you just tell me why?”

Regina felt a swelling of pain in her chest, a feeling that she knew how to quash before it affected her. Today, for some reason, she let herself feel it. She let herself name it: guilt.

“I was blinded by grief,” she said honestly. “I’d lost my first love, Daniel; he was murdered in front of me by my own mother.”

“So why not go after your mother?” Emma asked.

“Oh, she did,” Hook said, cleaning his fingernails with his hook. “Hired me to kill her. Good times, eh, Regina?”

“And why blame Snow? I know she made a mistake, but—”

“Because she never had to suffer the way I had suffered!” Regina shouted. “Everything fell into her lap, without her having to work for it! Her father’s love. Her kingdom. Her true love. She needed to understand what suffering was!”

“Well, I’d say she does now.” Emma stared baldly at her, remaining impassive. “Tell me something else — did you kill Graham?”

Regina looked back and forth between Emma and Hook, cold fear crawling up her spine. If the Dark One was at Emma Swan’s beck and call, then Regina was in danger. “I was afraid he would make you believe in the curse.”

“Or you were pissed that he dumped you, and you wanted revenge,” Emma said.

“You need to understand something about the Dark Curse, Miss Swan,” Regina said. “It didn’t just curse everyone else in this town, it cursed me too.”

“What are you talking about, you remembered everything. You knew who everyone was; you weren’t cursed,” Emma protested. “You’re the curser, not the… cursee.”

“True, but I was also frozen. Stuck. Living the same day again and again, at least until I adopted Henry. Henry was like a spark of magic that came into my life in this land without magic.” Regina swallowed with difficulty. “Even then, I couldn’t really move forward. I couldn’t get over my grief for Daniel. I couldn’t move past my desire for vengeance.”

Emma raised an eyebrow. “And now you can?”

Regina felt tears behind her eyes, barely recognizing the impulse to cry at first. “I don’t know. Right now, I just want to be able to see Henry again.”

“And he wants to see you. He wants us to find a way to compromise on custody.”

Anger swelled in Regina’s chest like a fire suddenly given air. “You gave him up. Legally, he’s my son.”

“And legally, you just confessed to killing Graham,” Emma countered.

“Something you’d never be able to convict me of in the courts of this land. Nor could you hold me for it.”

“I know that. Which is why we need to work out what’s best for Henry in this fucked up situation, regardless of the past. Now that the curse is broken, he wants both of his mothers. But I need some assurance that you aren’t going to try to hurt me or my family ever again. That you’re going to let the people of this town live in peace.”

“The people of this town tried to kill me, if you’ll recall.” Regina could still remember how helpless she felt with no magic and Dr. Whale’s fingers tightening around her throat.

“I think everyone’s settled down,” Emma said.

“And if an angry mob does come after you again,” Hook said, “you can rain fire down on them.”

“No, don’t do that,” Emma said with a glare at both of them. “No one is going to rain anything down on anyone. Peace, remember? Regina, do I have your word?”

Hook snorted, indicating how much he thought her word was worth.

Regina suddenly felt determined to prove him wrong.

“You have my word that I won’t do anything to hurt your family or anyone else in this town,” she said through gritted teeth. She turned to Hook. “You can put it in one of those infernal contracts Rumpelstiltskin was so fond of drawing up.”

He jumped off the desk, swaggering up to her. “I’m not much for paperwork. Just know, Regina, that if you do go back on your word, then I will delight in tearing you apart piece by piece if it’s the last thing I ever do.” Regina looked into the madness in his eyes, and she knew he meant it.

“Okay, good meeting,” Emma said.

~*~

Emma’s life began to once again resemble something of a routine. On weeks when she didn’t have Henry, she threw herself into work: dealing with the town’s more mundane, petty disturbances and trying to bring the station’s record keeping system into the 21st century. She even enrolled in an online course in law enforcement, figuring if she was going to be the sheriff, even of a magically created town filled with fairy tale characters, she’d prefer to know more about what she was doing.

On alternating weeks, Henry stayed with her at the loft with her parents, and that added getting him off to school, making sure his homework was done, and ensuring that he ate something resembling a balanced diet to her already busy days. She wouldn’t have traded it for anything though, the hours she got to spend with her son. The two of them invested in an old Xbox which she figured out how to wire up to Mary Margaret’s even older TV, and they killed time on the weekends fighting aliens together and eating popcorn. After all, she couldn’t be a responsible mom all the time.

Gradually, she allowed herself to let her walls down around her parents, as day by day they got to know each other properly. A kernel of resentment that they had given her up stayed nestled deep down in her heart, but weekly meetings with Archie were helping her to accept that sacrificing the happiness of their own family for the sake of their kingdom was who they were.

Her contact with Regina was brief; outside of the weekly handoff of Henry and an occasional professional call from the mayor’s office, they didn’t interact. Still, she saw no evidence that Regina wasn’t walking the straight and narrow, and her parents even grudgingly admitted that Regina seemed to have turned over a new leaf.

Spring began to awaken in Storybrooke. Trees started to bud, and grass began to look more green than brown. Emma felt like she would be happy, genuinely happy, if it weren’t for the way her thoughts strayed so often to Killian. She tried to be subtle when she inquired if anyone had seen him, but all she got in return were knowing, sad looks and shrugs. He hadn’t visited the diner, Ruby told her. He wasn’t living in his apartment, Billy said. There’d been no sign of him anywhere around the docks, said the fishermen. Emma began to wonder if he’d found some way back to the Enchanted Forest, he had so effectively disappeared from Storybrooke. It didn’t stop her from remembering his voice and his smile and his touch with disturbingly perfect clarity.

“I was thinking of getting my own place,” she mentioned to Henry one Saturday morning, as the two of them lazed around in their pajamas in front of the Xbox.

“Why?”

“Well, it’s kind of crowded here, especially when you’re staying over. Wouldn’t you like to have your own bedroom?”

“Sure,” he allowed. “Hey, what about Killian’s old apartment? If he’s not living there anymore, maybe you could live there.”

Her heartbeat sped up. “No way.”

“Why not?”

“It’s only a one-bedroom,” Emma said.

“That’s not why,” Henry responded, narrowing his eyes. “You still have feelings for him. You miss him too much.”

“Who’s suddenly an expert in adult relationships?”

Henry looked smug at that. “You didn’t deny it.”

Emma’s avatar on the screen died in a flash of gunfire, and she set her controller down on the coffee table. “It doesn’t really matter if I miss him or not. The guy I knew wasn’t real.”

Henry rolled his eyes. “Come on, you’ve gotten to know enough people in this town to understand that their cursed personalities and their real personalities aren’t that different. And Killian was nice.”

“Okay, but there’s also the little matter of him having killed someone. And being the Dark One now.”

“I know, but he didn’t mean to become the Dark One. He was confused like Graham was.”

Emma frowned. “How do you know about that?”

“He talked to me about the storybook before he died, remember?” Emma wasn’t sure if Henry knew of Regina’s responsibility for Graham’s death and she certainly wasn’t going to bring it up now, not with the uneasy peace they’d forged. She didn’t think she’d ever let herself forget it, though. “Graham’s memories of the Enchanted Forest were starting to bleed in, but it was all confused and mixed up in his mind. He was, like, going insane.”

“I know.”

“So the same thing was probably happening to Killian!” Henry proclaimed. “I bet he had all these mixed up memories in his head, confusing him, making him crazy. Then he saw Mr. Gold, and the memories took over. It wasn’t really his fault, killing Rumpelstiltskin and becoming the Dark One. He’s, like, not guilty by reason of insanity.”

“How do you know about his past with Rumpelstiltskin?” Emma asked, frowning. “That stuff isn’t in your book.”

“I know. Mom told me. Did you know she and Captain Hook knew each other in the Enchanted Forest?”

Emma felt a stab of jealousy. “Yeah, I gathered. Anyway, he’s gone, so…”

Henry blinked at her. “No, he’s not, he’s in that old mansion at the edge of town.”

Emma sat up suddenly, accidentally kicking the coffee table and knocking a cereal box off of it, the little colorful hoops spilling out across the floor. “What mansion? And how do you know?”

Now he was back to looking smug. “Mom did a locator spell, I think because she wants to keep tabs on the Dark One. I saw the map she was using after she was done. That’s where he is.”

~*~

It’s my responsibility as the sheriff, Emma told herself as parked her squad car in front of the mansion. I should know what the resident Dark One is up to. Or do a safety check. Yeah, that’s what this is, a safety check.

There was no response to her knock. Finding the door unlocked, Emma cautiously went inside.

The mansion showed every sign of having been long abandoned, cobwebs in the corners of the sumptuously wood-paneled entryway. Emma made her way into what appeared to be some kind of formal parlor, seeing no sign that anyone was living here. As she turned around to continue her exploration in another room, there was a puff of red smoke and Killian appeared before her.

Pressing her palm to her racing heart, Emma stepped back. “Jesus, Killian, you scared me.”

“That was my intention, Swan. What are you doing here?” His voice sounded raspy with disuse, and he looked terrible. His eyes looked sunken, his skin sallow. He still wore black jeans and a black, button-down shirt as if it were some kind of Dark One uniform. His hair was greasy and unkempt, and it had grown longer so that it curled in little tufts around his ears.

She swallowed uncomfortably. “I heard you were living up here, and I came to check and make sure you were all right.”

“I’m immortal; what kind of danger do you think I would have gotten myself into?” He disappeared and then immediately reappeared on one of the room’s high-backed chairs, one of his legs thrown over an overstuffed arm.

Emma raised an eyebrow. “You need magic to move three feet and sit down?” He shrugged in response. “What is it that you’re doing up here, exactly?”

“Oh, what am I not doing, Swan? Musing on all the mistakes I’ve made in my long, long life. Remembering every time I stabbed that dagger into the Crocodile’s fragile flesh. Remembering my beloved ship, lost to me forever in another realm.” He waved his hand, and Emma felt a sickening tug as red smoke enveloped her. When her vision cleared, she realized they were in another room in the mansion — a library of sorts. Killian stood over near one of the heavy-curtained windows. Books littered the floor and every available flat surface in haphazard piles. “All this power, all this knowledge at my disposal, and there is no way for me to leave this realm and get back to my own.”

“I think you need a more productive hobby,” Emma said. “You need to stop isolating yourself up here, for one thing.”

He disappeared again, materializing at her side. “You don’t want that,” he sneered, his eyes flashing with madness and pain. “You don’t want this darkness anywhere near your family. Anywhere near you.” In spite of his words, he swayed closer to her, like he couldn’t help himself. Emma inhaled, smelling his sweat and the ozone left behind by his magic.

“So you’re planning to stay holed up in his mansion… what, forever? Until someone finds that dagger and stabs you, and the cycle begins all over again?” she asked. His eyes flicked from her eyes to her lips, over and over, and she couldn’t tell if he’d even heard her. “Killian?”

“The darkness lies,” he whispered, as if by keeping his voice down, he could prevent it from knowing his thoughts. “It tells me you used me. That you hate me. That I never loved you.” His hand reached out and gripped her arm. “Why is it so afraid of you?” he asked in an even softer tone, such that she could barely make out the words even as he spoke only inches from her face.

Emma had no idea how to respond. “I don’t know.”

Killian drew closer, his knee bumping into hers, his wrinkled shirt brushing against her breast. “I think of you every hour of every day, Swan.” His breath was hot on her face, his hand trembling where it gripped her arm hard enough to bruise. For a moment, Emma thought he meant to kiss her, but then just as quickly he disappeared again, reappearing at a safer distance away.

“You should go,” he muttered. “You should leave and never come back to this place. This is my tomb; leave me alone to rot in peace. It’s what I deserve.”

Shivering at the hopelessness in his voice, Emma reached into her pocket and drew out the silver chain she’d removed from an old evidence baggie that morning. “I wanted to give you something that we found several months ago near… near where Gold was killed.” She held it out, letting the ring at the end of the chain swing like a pendulum. “I thought it might be yours, ripped off in the struggle when…”

Killian walked closer to her, his eyes focused on the ring. “Liam’s ring. I assumed it was lost forever.”

“Liam?”

“My brother.” He flicked his wrist, and the chain disappeared from her hand and reappeared in his. “I wore this from a young age; I believed it was what kept me alive.” His eyes closed, his face a mask of pain. “Since I lost it the day I became the Dark One, I suppose that was true.”

“You’re still alive, Killian. Even with all this darkness inside you, you’re still alive.”

He shook his head sadly. “Goodbye, Emma Swan.” With another flick of his wrist, Emma once again felt a nauseating tug, and the next moment she was standing next to the police cruiser outside, alone.

~*~

He sat still in the high-backed chair, as still as he possibly could, as if he could make every process in his body slow and slow and slow until his own heart stopped beating in his chest through sheer force of will. The few streetlights outside he’d extinguished weeks ago, and the moon was new, making the room completely dark. A mere mortal would have struggled to make out the barest outlines of the cold hearth, the dusty furniture, and the lonely man sitting in his lonely mansion.

“Hello, Dearie,” sang a familiar voice. Killian ignored it. It had almost become background noise at this point, like the rush of blood in his veins, the rhythmic beat of his heart, the occasional noisy insect chirping outside the window.

(x)

The avatar of Rumpelstiltskin sat in the twin of the chair Killian occupied as if they were two men enjoying the warmth of the fireplace, but no fire burned. It crossed one leg over the other, propping its head against a gnarled fist, and regarded him impassively.

“Do you think you’re the first Dark One to try to nobly isolate yourself to protect those that the weak, human version of you once cared for?”

“Can’t say as I bloody well give a damn,” Killian said out loud.

“You aren’t. And so I can tell you with absolute certainty, it won’t work.”

Killian clenched his teeth and didn’t respond.

“The darkness needs to feed. It needs suffering and chaos and blood. And you will give it that.”

“I won’t.”

The apparition laughed, slapping its knee in delight. “A pirate who ransacked and whored his way across the realm, the very definition of weak and self-indulgent, is going to resist the pull of darkness that no one in thousands of years has resisted?”

When Killian again didn’t respond, the creature arose with oily, reptilian grace and approached, leaning close to Killian. He exhaled, his fetid breath making Killian want to retch. “The darkness will have you, and you’ll realize that Rumpelstiltskin was a paragon of virtue compared to someone like you. Everyone you think you love, you’ll destroy. You’ll torture and murder and rape until nothing good is left of this town.” It paused, running its tongue over yellowed, ruined teeth. “And you’ll love it.”

Killian reached out with his hand for the creature’s neck, but it dissolved in front of his eyes, leaving nothing but silence and blackness in its wake. Shoulders drooping, Killian bowed his head in defeat.

Chapter 17

#csbb #cs ff #captain swan ff #dark hook ff #this graceful path fic #my fic

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