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

circethegoblin · 3 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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thelivebookproject · 4 years ago

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Talking Books With @nerdisthebestcompliment!

[What is this and how can I participate?]

Important note: I haven’t changed or edited any of the answers. I’ve only formatted the book titles so they were clearer, but nothing else. Because I’m incapable of shutting up, my comments are between brackets and in italics, so you can distinguish them clearly.

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[Image description: a square titled “Know the blogger”. Name & pronouns: Jet, she/her; country: United States; three adjectives to describe her: creative, adventurous & independent /end]

1. What is a book that reminds you of "home"?

I would say The Book of Virtues by William J. Bennett. It is an anthology of stories teaching morals like compassion, honesty, persistence, etc. Growing up my family moved a lot, so home was never really a place, but rather my mom, my brother, and me all reading together. My mom used to read us a story from that book every night before bed and reading always brings back a million memories of reading it together. My mom also used to teach etiquette classes and would always pose ethical questions to us (I was 10 the first time I had to answer the classic trolley problem), so stories that make you question what it means to be a good person feel like home in more ways than one.

2. Last "impulse" book you ended up liking?

Last impulse book I ended up really liking was Dreams and Shadows by C. Robert Cargill. This was back before COVID when I could still browse at the library. . . It caught my eye because it has some neon orange shapes on an otherwise dark black and gray cover and the title sound nice and fantastical. It’s about magic and monsters that are hidden in the shadows of our world and two boys who’s lives are tied together by a wish. The world was really rich and imaginative and darker than stories about magic usually are, which I enjoyed. And it was one of those books where the author lays out all theses little details throughout the book and only at the very end does he reveal how it is all connected.

3. Do you have an absolute favourite book?

No, I’ve got about a dozen favorites, but there isn’t any one that really stands out from the others.

4. Where do you usually read (your bed, the sofa, the train, etc.)?

I move around a lot when I read. I have a big wingback armchair and a sofa/bean bag hybrid thing I use a lot at home, but I am also working on turning my living room into my reading paradise, so I’m building a couple couches I can curl up on and plan on getting a papason and one of the hanging egg chairs too so I’ll have even more options. I also love reading at coffee shops... there’s a couple really great ones in my town that have really comfy couches and armchairs that I can spend a whole day reading in 🛋☕️📚

5. Top three most disliked tropes?

My most disliked tropes are probably

Obsessive love

Love/sex as the end-all-be-all, only happy ending

Token diversity, gay/black best friend, Asian hacker, etc.

[Indeed, yikes]

Free space!

I’d like to recommend an author and a book that I don’t think get enough attention.

The author is Walter Moers. He’s a German author and cartoonist who writes incredible fantasy novels with gorgeous illustrations. I’d definitely recommend it for fans of Lord of the Rings and fantasy fans who are looking for a good transition from YA to adult.

The book is The Rest of Us Just Live Here by Patrick Ness. It’s a book about the kids who aren’t the chosen ones in a world where there are chosen ones. This is a book for fans of realistic fiction and those who can’t always see themselves in The Chosen One narrative. One of the main reasons I love this book is the way it addresses the reality of mental illness and shows that it is something that can improve, but won’t just magically be cured by the end of the book.

[I’ve read the book, but haven’t heard about the author. I’ll definitely check him out!]

You can follow her at @nerdisthebestcompliment, on Goodreads, and on Instagram.

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Thank you, Jet! This was really nice.

Next interview: Tuesday, 30th of March

#talking books with #booklr #march 2021 #thelivebookproject

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codevassie · 4 years ago

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a heart he couldn’t control (destined to love and hate and damn forever) Part 8

CV: thanks for your patience. you're certainly going to need more of it for the rest of this fic. i appreciate you guys for all the likes and reblogs and comments and i hope you all have a wonderful day <3

CW: fainting, mild unintentional self harm, reference to past thoughts of self harm (basically referring to Virgil in chapter 6)

@winterwynd @escalatingtoofast

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Virgil hadn’t taken a breath since he’d started to run. His lungs felt nothing of the strain, his feet merely brushing the earth as they pounded by. His vision was a little blurry, but he refused to acknowledge it. The trees whipped by; his cloak snapped in the breeze. When he stopped, it was only to press a hand against one last trunk, gaze out past the edge of the forest and into the vast kingdom that surrounded him.

A hiccup caught up with him, and Virgil pressed his free hand to his chest, stuttering in and out. The stitch in his side zapped through his nerves; his body shook; Virgil bent down and let a few tears hit the dirt.

“Why,” he asked them. They soaked into the ground, disappearing without answer. He clenched his eyes shut. “Why wouldn’t he just come with.”

A part of him wanted to turn back, bolt to his brother and beg. Virgil knew he couldn’t do that.

Virgil took in a few more shaky breaths before he forced himself upright. He blinked the annoying tears away, set his gaze again to the distance. He still had a lot of ground to cover.

Just because he was at the edge of the forest didn’t make him in the clear. Without the town’s protection–the wards he and Patton had set again and again over the years–there was always the chance she’d find him. Some of them would be broken by now due to the witch’s appearance in the library, but Patton’s house would be safe. And so would Logan’s.

Virgil shook out his hands. His sprint had worked up a sweat, but standing still made it freeze uncomfortably in his palms.

With one last look to the forest behind him, Virgil took off again toward the kingdom.

-/-

The sky was purple and the horizon was a dull glow by the time Virgil showed up. Instinctually, he ducked into the shadows of the first house and pulled up his hood. The moon and stars were blotted out by dense grey clouds. The street lamps were aglow, but people weren’t fond of being out in the streets at this time in the winter. It was nearly empty apart from the rare straggler on their way home from work.

It wouldn’t be strange for Virgil to walk these streets. He’d lived there for years, been a working member of their society who bought from the market, greeted library patrons by name, accepted invitations to local meet-ups and then pretended to forget about them.

Yet, everything had changed now. In some ways it was like Virgil had gone back to that frightened child, afraid to leave Patton’s house, impulsively stitching protective charms into his cloak and Patton’s curtains.

In other ways it was as Virgil had never experienced before.

The years had taught him things that kid would never know–would never have found out if he hadn’t gotten out.

One thing the two had in common, however, seemed to be this persistent vulnerability. She would find him anywhere, surely. It was only a matter of time.

Virgil kept his head low as he walked among the shadows of the buildings, keeping to the edge of store fronts and away from the lamps. As he approached the residential sector of town, the number of people about increased–children playing in the last of the sun’s light, friends sharing steaming mugs on front porches. His hood–normal among the commercial buildings, perhaps– was strange here, yet he couldn’t bring himself to pull it down.

He beelined for the nearest safe point he could get to. Logan’s house was closer to the stores because he found it practical. Virgil couldn’t argue now. It was a gods-send to almost be somewhere he could finally collapse, finally feel safe with someone he could trust.

Maybe, if he was lucky, Patton would already be there, and Virgil could get a goddamn hug. Though, at this point, he wouldn’t be above risking rejection to ask Logan. Despite not favoring physical affection, he knew Logan wouldn’t bat an eye to hug a friend in need.

As Virgil approached the house, he noticed the porch wasn’t lit, but the living room most certainly was. The last of the sky had dimmed, leaving the windows to glow faintly behind their curtains, and Virgil caught a shadow moving inside. A breath caught in his throat, a tight hope bubbled in his chest, making his heart stand still. Wearily, he climbed the steps and raised a fist to the worn wood.

His knock was solid and clear. Practical. Logan would appreciate it.

There was a sound inside, and Virgil’s breath released as if to say Finally. I’m safe. Finally.

A loud crack sounded through the air, making Virgil jolt and choke on that one precious breath. He turned from the door and was met with a bright flash of green light, wide eyes, and frantic hands immediately on his face.

“You!” Remus shouted, then the sharp noise and bright light returned. When he felt Remus’ hands leave him, Virgil was still disoriented from the light. As he blinked through the haze, however, he was able to make out the silhouette of a large canopy bed, the edge of a bedside table, the dim outline of a window.

They were in a room. Remus had teleported them… somewhere. “Remus! What the-”

Virgil broke off as he honed in on his assailant. His eyes adjusted just enough to see Remus still standing in front of him. He was staring unblinkingly, like he used to do when he woke Virgil up by scaring him out of his pants.

Except… this time Virgil didn’t detect that hint of mischief, couldn’t see that sharp twinkle in his eye. Maybe it was the dim light, but Virgil couldn’t really see, well, anything there.

Remus stared like he was looking right through.

“R-Remus?” Virgil asked, now unsure. Remus, at last, blinked at him, and his eyes finally took Virgil in.

“You,” he repeated. “The purple man.”

Then, he promptly fell back onto the bed and fainted.

-/-

Remus was inconsistent in everything he did, but if there was one thing you could depend on, it was his ability to give Virgil heart attacks.

Virgil stood for a mere second, looking wide-eyed at his friend, hands out in a gesture that was somewhere between ‘what do I do?!?’ and ‘Remus, you goddamn panic attack.’ He pulled in half a breath before jumping into action.

He checked Remus’ pulse first, fingers skittering along his neck for a pulse point until he latched onto the strong thrum. He was alive. Fucking amazing. His skin was cold though, colder than Virgil, and he’d been running through the icy air all day. Remus didn’t have a fever, that much was certain, but, at this rate, he was on a one way street to getting one.

Since Remus had fallen only halfway onto the bed, Virgil first dragged him the rest of the way up. He was a real dead-weight while unconscious, but sliding was easier than lifting, so Virgil counted his graces. By the time he centered Remus in the bed, however, he knew he wasn’t going to be able to get him under the covers.

Next best thing. Virgil lifted the edge of the large duvet–too thick and warm for Remus not to be taking full advantage–and rolled. By the end of the endeavor, the fiend was nothing but a blanket burrito and a poof of hair sticking out of the top. He checked to make sure Remus could still breathe in there before sitting back, slumping into a chair set up between the bed and window.

“Fate, if you’re testing me,” he breathed, watching the even in and out of Remus’ burrito breathing. “I’m ready to square up.”

The room remained quiet. Virgil looked to the window, out of which he could see the mountains he had just fled. He turned away.

It didn’t feel real, being there now–in a dark room he wasn’t familiar with, having just fled the place of his memories and nightmares. This whole terror was finally settling into something a lot stranger, something far more surreal. What was real? Would he wake up in his room above the library, safe and happy? Or would he wake in his cold, stiff bed in the caves?

Maybe he had fallen asleep at Patton’s, warm under the blankets in his guest room. Maybe he had dozed reading a book on Logan’s couch.

Maybe he and Dee and Remus had piled blankets on the floor and told stories into the night.

Maybe Remus had knocked him out with a rogue spell, or Dee had covered for him so he could gaze at the stars, nodding off against the lip of the cave.

Maybe Roman had startled him while he was under the reception desk, and he’d hit his head again. Maybe Virgil had passed out because Roman made a joke and gave him that small, feather-light smile that suggested it was private, shared between just them.

As floaty and transparent as Virgil felt, however, this room was solid and real. He blinked up at the ceiling, trying to grab hold of that. He squeezed the wooden arm of the chair.

If this was where Remus had taken them, was this where he lived?

Virgil’s eyes, adjusted to the night, looked about. The bed was large and the blankets were thick and luxurious. The furniture looked finely polished and prestinely made. A mirror on one wall was shined, both glass and frame, and the paintings that paralleled it were gorgeous. The room definitely showed signs of wealth.

Virgil was in the castle.

His mouth moved without his permission. “Roman,” he whispered, heart thumping once loudly in his chest. Immediately, his face went red. His eyes darted to the bed to make sure Remus hadn’t heard.

At the sight of a still-intact burrito, Virgil exhaled. He let his mind wander again.

He thought of the last time he’d seen Roman–not that long ago, yet it felt like a lifetime. Standing in that forest, all Virgil had wanted was to run to him, take his hand, and never let go. And at the same time, he’d wanted all those feelings to leave. He didn’t want anything from Roman; he didn’t want anything from anyone. He had gotten everything he had coming already.

He’d wanted to tear down that hope in his chest and burn any Roman might’ve had too.

He hadn’t wanted to fall in love with Roman.

But Virgil had been cruel. He’d said exactly what he knew would drive Roman away. Yet even then, Roman had stayed. Had promised to help. Had said he wouldn’t give up.

Virgil had a lot to say to him, didn’t he? Things to apologize for. And things to confess. Roman had laid it all on the line–had left the castle and his duties, had opened his heart out to someone who was ready to stomp all over it.

Was Roman there, in the palace? Could Virgil find him?

Virgil was walking to the door–again, before his mind could keep up. When he stopped before it, he frowned.

How in the world was he ever going to find his way through a palace? More than that, how could he walk through these halls without getting charged with breaking and entering? And what if they found out he had magic too? He’d be a dead man.

Virgil stepped back from the door. Okay, bad idea.

His eyes stayed on its surface for a minute too long, contemplating this very bad idea.

Maybe...

It was for the better, really, when a crash sounded behind him.

He jumped a mile, spinning around and eyes darting to-and-fro. It wasn’t too hard to figure out the source.

“My gods, Remus,” he sighed, eyeing the lump of blankets on the floor. The figure was wiggling, most likely stuck.

“This cocoon can’t become a butterfly! How will the birds eat if I can’t become a butterfly?” he shouted. Virgil jolted, eyes darting to the door before rushing over to Remus.

“Dude, shut up! We don’t need anyone thinking I’m trying to assassinate you or something,” Virgil hissed. Remus flailed, trying to look up.

“A spider?” Remus exclaimed. “No wonder I’m in these webs! You can’t have me yet, though. I’m not a fully-cooked butterfly yet.”

“It’s Virgil, you idiot,” he said, trying to turn the guy over to find where the blanket ended.

“Oh, hey Virgil.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, tugging at the newly found corner. Remus started to tumble free. Virgil piled the blanket onto the bed and Remus jumped up, eyes alight.

“When did you get here? Is it storytime?”

Virgil eyed him and sat down on the edge of the bed. He’d forgotten how tiring it was to be in the same room as Remus. Still, he couldn’t quite keep his eyes off of his friend.

The last time he’d seen him, they were surrounded by flying books and cornered by their childhood abductor. It hadn’t been much of a reunion.

Especially after Virgil had left without so much as a goodbye.

“You teleported me here, Remus. How hard did you hit your head?” Virgil said, not quite prepared to go into the heavy stuff yet. It’d still been less than twenty-four hours since his conversation with Dee.

Remus shook his head, jumping onto the bed and sprawling out like a starfish. “I can’t teleport in the caves,” he said, laughing. Like it was a totally normal comment.

Virgil frowned, turning to look at him. “The caves?”

“Oh!” Remus exclaimed, sitting up and flopping over onto his stomach. His eyes were bright luminescent green. He was summoning his magic without even thinking about it. “Did you bring Dee with? I haven’t seen him in so long.”

Virgil’s stomach sank. He averted his gaze, picked at a thread in the very expensive duvet.

“He helped me get out,” Virgil confessed. Of all people, Remus deserved to know. “But he didn’t want to come.”

Remus blinked, his eyes going dimmer. His smile lagged a bit. “Oh. Is he busy again?”

“Busy?” Virgil asked. “With what?”

Remus rolled again to his back, talking to the ceiling. “She always gives him work to do. He never plays with me anymore.”

“What does that mean? Remus, are you messing with me?”

By this point though, it was as if Remus couldn’t even hear him. “He always just leaves me alone while he’s in the garden. We don’t do storytime anymore. Or look at the stars. Not since you left.”

Virgil was finally at a loss for words. What was Remus saying? He was talking as if he was still… in the caves.

“He always just leaves me with her,” Remus continued and sighed. “I don’t like being with her.” His voice grew small. A look at his face told Virgil that he really wasn’t there anymore. He was somewhere far off, in his head, some memory long gone.

“R-Remus,” Virgil tried, suddenly nervous. He should snap him out of this, right? He looked like he was in pain; he looked… haunted, eyes unseeing, face paling more the longer the silence went. Virgil would want to be snapped out of this if it was him. “Remus,” he said a bit more insistently.

Remus blinked, eyes still on the ceiling. Slowly, he looked over.

“Virgil,” he said, as if surprised to see him.

Virgil smiled weakly. “Hey, man. Glad to see you ba-” However, he was soon cut off when Remus scrambled up. In a move Virgil doubted any mortal eyes could track, Remus snatched Virgil’s tongue right from his mouth, holding it pinched between thumb and finger. Virgil looked at him with wide eyes. “Wahh-” he tried to speak. Obviously, it was a bit difficult.

Remus looked at the tongue strangely. He pulled it back and forth, looking over and under. Virgil did not like the sensation, especially since he had no idea where Remus’ hands had been.

“Her magic is on you,” he said at last, not sounding pleased with the answer. Virgil’s eyebrows lifted and he batted Remus’ hands away.

“How did you know that?” Virgil asked. Remus must have been referring to the silencing curse on him. Was it really that easy to spot?

“It’s on me,” Remus said, tracing an invisible pattern on his cheek down to his neck with one finger. He then spread his hand out, laying it across his clavicle and rubbing harshly across his shoulder and down one arm. His nails dug into the flesh of his forearm. “All over.”

Virgil gave pause. “Is there… a curse on you, Remus?”

Remus’ nails dug further into his arm. Virgil reached out, gauging Remus’ reaction to touch before carefully extracting the hand. He calmly kept it between his own hands, settling them into his lap. Remus watched on, calmly. It was a relief as much as it was unnerving.

Virgil bit his lip. “Maybe I can help you,” he said, thinking of Dee. Love magic was powerful, and reflexive magic was Virgil’s specialty. He didn’t have the control Dee had, but he did have instinct.

He looked down at the hand in his, focused on each point of contact–one palm to the back of Remus’ hand and the other palm-to-palm; each finger pad resting lightly against the skin. Virgil closed his eyes, let his mind wash against the spirit beside him.

He couldn’t feel the curse, nor could he see it like Remus apparently could. Virgil had to believe it was there and wash it away. He closed his eyes and felt that familiar thrum in his chest.

The magic was still as it transferred. It heated the chilly air like it had been coiling, waiting to spring and burst forth in all its silent intensity.

It simply existed. In him. In Remus. And in the room around them.

It knew what Virgil wanted, and though Virgil had never been the best sorcerer, the magic had always liked him, had always said yes to his human whims.

When Virgil opened his eyes, the purple glow within them dimmed. He looked down at Remus, but Remus hadn’t moved; there was no sign of any change.

“How do you feel?” Virgil asked, a tinge of hope in his voice. A long pause followed, and Virgil held his breath.

Slowly, Remus looked up, face inconstruable. Then, he frowned.

“Itchy,” he replied. His hand pulled out of Virgil’s and reached for his own arm again, nails scraping duller this time across the skin. Remus made a face.

Virgil blinked. His brow furrowed then he nodded, not exactly sure what to make of that.

“Okay…” He tried not to feel too disappointed. Whatever Remus’ curse was, it hadn’t seemed to work. Nothing had changed.

Virgil sighed and laid back on Remus’ bed.

“Dang, you rich guys know how to make a comfy bed,” he said, almost to himself. He was still frowning though.

Maybe they just had to be patient. Maybe something had happened.

But then again, perhaps only time would tell.

-/-

Following Virgil's departure, Dee had spent the day in the garden.

To be perfectly honest, there wasn't much to do there. He and Virgil had gathered more than enough, and Dee had spent the day tending the plants not too long ago. He didn't need to pull any weeds or trim any dead foliage. The sugar water didn't need to be refilled. The garden's border, physical or magical, didn't need mending.

The garden didn't need anything from him today. Dee, however, needed something from it. He needed an alibi. And he needed to give Virgil time to get as far away as possible.

Dee still wasn't quite sure what made him do it. The thought of freeing Virgil had been at the back of his head for days. Despite all the work the witch had put into getting him back, Dee had felt the powerful urge to set him free.

Normally, Dee wouldn't be so afraid. That was Virgil's thing after all. Dee was resilient. He was supposed to protect Virgil and Remus. He would learn everything in the book to make sure they stayed safe.

Yet lately, every time Dee so much as looked Virgil's way he was struck by an indescribable fear.

He saw the eye bags, darker than he ever remembered. He saw the dim eyes. Dee saw the way Virgil laid in bed and wouldn't sleep. He saw the way he had stood atop that boulder.

That boulder that he hadn’t ever noticed before, to be honest. That boulder which now, Dee skirted far away from, refused to look at. That boulder which couldn’t hurt him, and it wouldn't have hurt Virgil that day–not unless he tripped, but he was far too careful for that.

Virgil made Dee so afraid, which wasn't a pleasant experience nor one he wished to dwell on. However, his brain was quite intent on reminding him why. Virgil had hurt him before, had left him like he was nothing more than a passing thought.

After Dee was desperate enough to use love magic, of all things, it was obvious Virgil still had the power to hurt him.

Virgil had the most direct route to his heart, yet after everything, Dee had never been more afraid of anything than that boulder–stricken, dread surging through his veins, drowning all thoughts but to stand frozen, heart a red hot flash of thumps, breath an absent presence lodged in his throat.

And he realized there was only one thing that scared him more than Virgil leaving again.

Dee knew what scared him about that boulder.

Being there, with them, made Virgil miserable.

They weren't his family anymore. This wasn't his home.

And while that hurt–to know his brother couldn't stand him anymore–it somehow hurt worse to know that Virgil wasn't happy.

Perhaps Dee could be at peace knowing Virgil and Remus were both somewhere they belonged, with the people they belonged with. His best days had been with them–that would never change–but it didn't have to be the same for them. They could still make more for themselves.

In the end, that's why he'd let Virgil go, wasn't it? He had to give him a chance. You have to let go of the ones you love.

It was as if Virgil had never been back, he supposed. It was Dee and the Dragon Witch again, alone in the caves with a silent, lonely companionship and a bit of magic to make them feel alive.

He couldn't shake the feeling, however, that the few weeks Virgil had been there had changed... everything.

Dee had always wondered what had driven Virgil away. He’d believed it had something to do with him. He’d been so jaded, felt so betrayed, that he hadn’t ever thought critically about it. Dee had refused to consider it apart from examining his own faults, all the things he had done.

Perhaps, though, it had never really been Dee’s fault.

Virgil had asked Dee to come with him this time, said he wished he had before. He said he’d never wanted to leave Dee.

And he said it was because of the witch.

Controlling? She was protecting them. Cruel? It was just tough love.

Right?

Nevermind that she yelled. Nevermind the excuses. Nevermind his subtle terror at her knowing what he’d done.

Because if she knew, Dee wasn't sure how she’d react. She had put years into finding Virgil, apparently. She had been at it, even when Dee thought she'd given up–when Dee had given up.

And Dee hadn't given up for Virgil. When he realized Virgil was gone at first he was concerned. When it became evident he had run away…

Dee no longer looked for him. He no longer spoke of him. If Remus brought him up, Dee would pretend to be busy. If god forbid the witch said something, Dee would grit his teeth and pretend not to think about it.

In truth, it didn’t matter if anyone was talking about it or not; Dee was always thinking about Virgil. About why he had left, what Dee had done, what he could have done to make him stay.

And he’d thought of Remus–if he was better off, if he ever came back to himself, if Dee would ever see him again despite being with his real family once more.

Looking down on the garden, Dee swept his hair back so he could see, properly getting to work. His hand brushed over the birthmarked half of his face, prickling in sensitivity when there was a subtle popping sound behind him. Dee was used to the interruption, and today, despite his secrets, he felt no different towards it.

Lies didn't affect Dee all that much. In fact, sometimes he felt as though he was calmer when he lied, more confident. He wouldn't call that a tell, however. It never showed.

There was possibly one person in the whole world who knew his tells, and it wasn't her. That would be Remus.

"Dee, darling," the witch drawled, approaching leisurely. Dee didn't turn from his "work"–just gave a slight incline of the head. "Where's Virgil? I have more practice for him."

"I don't know," Dee answered cooly. "We split up earlier. I'm sure he'll be back soon, given that nasty sigil on his arm."

The witch sighed, floating up to one of the low standing boulders to sit. She propped her chin in a hand, elbow resting on her knee.

"I know it must seem barbaric, but would you rather he be able to get away again?" she said this flippantly, like she already knew the answer. It was obvious enough that what she assumed was wrong.

"I suppose," Dee said, going no further. Arguing any further would raise suspicion. He only needed enough to occupy her, distract her.

But he wanted to. He wanted to ask why she seemed to take pleasure when the sigil brought Virgil pain. Why did she find it so funny that Virgil missed home?

The witch's nails were long, and the tapping of them against the boulder made Dee look up. She was watching him with a smile. A shiver traveled down his spine.

"Yes?" he asked, guard up. She raised one shoulder. Dee frowned.

"You did something," she said, still smiling. Dee froze, but he covered it with a long, unhumored blink in her direction.

"Did something?" he inquired.

"You're getting very strong," the witch continued, ignoring him not for the first time. "You know that he's gone. You helped him."

Dee cursed inwardly, but his face remained neutral, maybe even a little concerned. "Gone? Virgil?"

"I worked very hard to bring him to us. He was supposed to be the last step before it all happened."

Now Dee was confused. He didn't need to play dumb anymore. "Before… what all happens?"

But the witch just shook her head. "I don't think I quite trust you anymore. You must understand that," she said. "But it's no matter. I can see now how strong you've gotten. You can manipulate the boulders. You somehow ruined my sigil."

Dee went to protest. She put up a hand.

"We don't need Virgil anyway. I think we're ready for the real deal now," she said, floating back down to the ground. She approached again, taking his chin in the palm of her hand, nails resting against his cheek. Dee watched calmly, still confused, still trepid.

She smiled down at him, and this time he really looked at it. He looked at how cold the gesture was, how vaguely threatening she always seemed–the hanging possibility of punishment always around. Dee lived in constant fear, constant guilt, even if he'd never tell a soul. Even if he was reluctant to acknowledge it.

Perhaps, that wasn't how people lived. Perhaps, what the witch did was never normal and never out of any sense of love.

But maybe it was too late for that.

"Are you ready for your destiny, Dee?" she asked.

#sanders sides #ts anxiety #ts creativity #virgil sanders #roman sanders #ts #writing updates #ahhcc #tw fainting #tw self harm

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marvels-writings · 4 years ago

Text

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

Text

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)

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

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 · 4 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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libraryfinds · 6 years ago

Text

11 Questions

Thank you for tagging me @thelivebookproject!

Rules:

Answer the 11 questions you’ve been asked

Nominate 11 other bloggers

Ask your nominees 11 questions

Let them know you’ve nominated them!

Questions for me:

How do you choose your books?

If I buy second hand I always buy by impulse! It sounds horrible but if it sticks out either by cover or by browsing the back I’ll just get it. Sometimes if I find a nice book in a horrible condition i get it anyway because I feel bad about leaving it where no one will buy it!

Do you buy a lot, or do you prefer the library?

Both? I go to the second hand store a couple times a month to browse the shelves. I check out my library every week and the library online resources whenever I’m bored, so basically all the time! :)

How many books have you read this year?

4! The Marrow Thieves, Crazy Rich Asians, The Last Wish and a Wonder Woman Comic!

What is the worst book you read this year?

None so far, I liked them all!

Tell me something about your bookblr.

I post mostly about books I randomly (or not so randomly) find in my library’s shelves. There’s also a lot of cats, sometimes even my own kitties or foster cats! I use a lot of exclamation marks!

Do you follow book releases? If yes, how (fb, twitter, personal following of some authors…)?

I follow some authors that I know I like on facebook and follow releases here on tumblr!

Do you read the book before the movie, or see the movie first?

I try to read the book first but not having read it will not stop me from watching the movie!

How do you write book reviews? (If you don’t write, tell me what you like to see in them, or how you would write them)

There are a total of 3 reviews I’ve ever written so I can’t call myself a professional but I like a quick info what the book was about and then me rambling incoherently, that seems to be it.

Ebooks yes or ebooks no?

YES! I love my home library with my whole heart but I don’t know what I’d do on the run without the Overdrive app!

Do you have a Goodreads account?

You can find me with this handy link!

Blank gap -tell me anything you want: books you love, a book you rec me, how do you feel about my blog, anything at all!

I’ll use this chance to steal the favourite fairy tale question! Mine is The Little Match Girl, I first read it in a very old fairy tale book that my grandmother owned and I always loved it.

Questions by me:

1. What is your favourite fairy tale?

2. What are you reading at the moment?

3. Do you diversify your reading and if so how?

4. New books or used ones? Or library?

5. Tell us something about your local library, or your favourite library memory!

6. One remarkable book you read in 2018?

7. Do you read comics or visual novels? If so what’s your favourite?

8. Tell us something about your blog!

9. Reading or writing?

10. Tea, coffee, or hot chocolate with a good book?

11. Where do you read most often?

BONUS QUESTION: What’s your goodreads? (so I can follow you immediately!)

I’m tagging:

@anassarhenisch, @foodbookandteablog, @worlds-of-ink-and-paper, @lost-in-books94, @immzies-adventures-through-books, @biblioshark, @diversitybooks, @lornaslibrary, @booksmashedellie, @books-and-floralteacups and @lesbianreads

Have fun everyone!

#11 questions #tag game #library #booklr #me

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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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