#i cant stop drinking coffee and tweaking from it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nhasablogg · 2 years

Note

I dont wanna monopolize all your prompts but maybe a short one where Spencer won't/cant go to sleep/is drinking too much coffee to stay awake so someone tickles him to tire him out? Or just to convince him to get some actual rest?

-M

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Characters: Hotch, Reid

A/N: This is probably ooc, but I don't CARE I wanted to write about Hotch and Reid. Also tweaked the prompt a little, hope that's okay!

Words: 1.3k

Hotch didn’t make it a habit to profile his profilers. It didn’t seem ethical, especially not if it didn’t affect their abilities to work. Which was exactly why it took him slightly too long to realize that Reid was sleep deprived.

“How many hours of sleep per night does a person need to function normally?” he asked him that afternoon.

Reid looked up from his paperwork, one hand gripping his fifth cup of coffee. “Between seven and eight depending on age.”

“I see. And how many do you get on a nightly basis?”

Reid straightened, his lips pursing. “I sense I made a mistake.”

“How many, Reid?”

“Mmm.”

“Reid.”

“Maybe two?”

“Two?”

“Not every single night of my life!” Reid scrambled to add. “But. Recently.”

Hotch rubbed at his temples. “Jesus. For how long?”

“A couple of weeks.”

“Reid. You need to lay off the coffee.”

“It’s not because of that,” Reid said, holding up his hands. “It’s the only way I can focus during the day. It doesn’t matter how tired I am at night. I just can’t seem to sleep.”

“Nightmares?” Hotch remembered when Morgan had approached him about it a few years ago, when Reid’s nightmares had started.

Reid shrugged. “Partly. I’ve been able to handle them before, though.”

“We experience new things all the time. It’s nothing to be ashamed of if you find it harder now.”

“I’m not ashamed.” But he wouldn’t meet Hotch’s eyes now, turning back to his pile of papers.

Hotch huffed, wondering how to approach this. It wasn’t as if he could physically make sure Reid was sleeping.

Unless…

“I want you to take a nap right now.”

Reid turned back to him. “Sorry?”

“We have a couch and a quiet room for a reason. This job’s demanding. I order you to go to sleep.”

Reid held up his cup. “But I’m five coffees down,” he said weakly.

“Then starting tomorrow you’re not allowed to have any more coffee past noon and will take a nap after lunch.”

“Sir, with all due respect-”

“No arguing.”

Reid’s mouth snapped shut, but Hotch caught him mumbling something along the lines of “Morgan will tease me to death” as he left him.

And Morgan did, stopping only when Hotch shot him a look the next day. “I think I should enforce this rule on everyone if I’m being honest. I doubt you’re taking care of yourselves as you should.” Everyone squirmed, refusing to look at him. “Hm. Reid, come on, the room is ready for you.”

“Do I have to?”

“Yes. You look exhausted as it is.”

“I’m fine, Hotch, I promise.”

“Didn’t I say no arguing?”

Reid sighed, following Hotch into the room. It was nothing special really, but it had a couch by the wall, a table and a chair for when you needed complete privacy while working or eating, and a small window with the blinds closed, just in case you needed daylight. Hotch rarely was in here, and he had no doubts his agents barely knew of its existence.

“There’s blankets and extra pillows,” he said, pointing to a basket. “You get an hour.”

“What if I can’t fall asleep?” Reid asked quietly, arms crossed. Holding himself rather than displaying defiance, Hotch noted.

“Just resting is also good for you.” Hotch softened, taking in the young agent. How much he’d seen much too young. “Please try, Reid. Please.”

Hotch left him before he could reply.

Reid found him 27 minutes later, hair somewhat unruly and his eyes containing something that nearly scared Hotch a bit. “I can’t. Hotch, I can’t.”

“Reid, Reid, calm down. What is it?”

“I can’t sleep.”

“Reid-”

“I just can’t, I-” He ran a hand over his face. “It’s not that I don’t want to.”

He saw the frustration in the kid now. How he probably spent weeks trying and failing to get the rest he needed. How that was slowly etching itself into his bones and spilling over.

Hotch sighed, wondering if he was crossing a line. “Come with me.”

They went back to the room and Hotch had him sit down next to him on the couch.

“Relax,” he told him. “It’s okay. I want to try something.”

“Okay.”

“I do this to Jack when he can’t sleep. I know you’re not a child,” he added when Reid opened his mouth. “But I think this could help as long as you’re not uncomfortable with me touching you.”

“Uh.”

“Or we can get someone else to do it. Maybe Morgan.”

“What exactly do you have in mind?”

“Jack relaxes when I stroke his back,” he explained, finding himself smiling softly. “I figured sometimes you just need to know that someone is there. It also helps you relax.”

Reid exhaled. “Is that- something you want to do for me?”

“Of course.” Hotch said it with no hesitation, although still wondering if it was appropriate. But their job literally involved them sleeping and eating and crying around each other. He saw no reason why this would be different. “If you want me to.”

“I guess it can’t hurt,” Reid mumbled, suddenly blushing and turning away from him. “I, uh, should I lie down?”

Hotch hadn’t thought of the details. “Yes, I’ll- I’ll sit on the chair.”

“Okay.”

It was awkward, as they shuffled to get in position. Hotch wheeled the chair over, realizing it was probably much too high for him to comfortably touch Reid, but it would have to do. Reid was facing the back of the couch, visibly tense and waiting for Hotch to approach.

“Just tell me if you want me to stop, okay?”

“Are you gonna keep doing it until I fall asleep? Because that will probably take hours.”

Hotch really hadn’t thought this through. “I’ll do it for a bit just to help you relax, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I’m gonna touch you now, okay?”

“Okay.”

It was strange, to be petting your co-worker, but to be fair it wasn’t the strangest thing he’d done for this job. Reid lay completely still as Hotch let his fingertips run over his back, over his spine and shoulder blades and the nape of his neck. He shivered slightly, which made Hotch smile. Despite everything Reid hadn’t lost his humanity.

“How’s that?”

“Feels good,” Reid mumbled. Hotch could imagine him blushing, eyes closing and mouth slightly agape.

“And a little weird?”

Reid breathed out a laugh. “And a little weird,” he agreed.

Hotch laughed too, running his fingers down Reid’s spine toward his lower back. “Well, hopefully you’ll relax anyway- oh.”

Reid had twitched away from him with a yelp, glancing back at him briefly enough for Hotch to catch his panicked expression. “Uh.”

“Did I cross a line?” Hotch asked, equally as panicked.

“No, no, I just- Ugh.” He turned back around, pressing his face to the couch. “I think I’m good now, sir, thank you, you can leave now.”

“Reid, what-”

“I’ll fall asleep in no time.”

“Reid.” Hotch grabbed his arm. “What happened?”

Reid sighed. “It’s stupid.”

“If I overstepped-”

“You did nothing wrong, it just tickled.”

“Oh.”

Oh.

“I didn’t know you were ticklish.”

“How could you have known?”

“I’ll be more careful. Is it just your lower back?”

Reid didn’t reply instantly. “My sides. Back ribs. Shoulder blades if you’re being very gentle.”

“I see.”

“Neck too.”

“So I have about one fourth of your back that’s safe to touch,” he joked and Reid groaned, clearly embarrassed. “Sorry. I’ll be careful. Although it would have been fun to hear you giggle.”

“I don’t giggle.”

“I’m sure that’s a lie.” In a moment of rare playfulness, Hotch gave Reid’s side a poke, earning something akin to a shriek. “Sorry.”

“You did that on purpose.”

“I think I know what to do now next time you refuse to sleep.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“I would. Now be still and let me continue. I promise not to tickle you.”

Reid did. Hotch deserved a medal for keeping his word.

#tickling #ticklish!spencer reid #hotch and reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #n writes #what to name this hmmm #hotch makes reid nap #lol #for masterpost purposes #ask

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porkchop-ao3 · 5 years

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A Thrill I’ve Never Known (Chapter 23)

Flimflammery

In this chapter, John and reader run a con together :) This part was inspired a lot by Better Call Saul and some of the scams that Jimmy and Marco would pull in season 1! I love writing this kind of thing :P you’ll notice this story focuses on the jobs reader does as well as the romance plot, I just cant help myself!

(All chapters tagged with #ATINK and also posted on Ao3, username PorkChop)

I was up first. I brewed the coffee, poured myself a cup, yawned and stretched and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. Draping my blanket around my shoulders and shuffling across the camp towards the horses with my journal tucked under my arm, I glanced towards Arthur's bed. He was curled up on his side, cheek smushed into his pillow, arm hanging off the edge, fast asleep. I smiled, his appearance endearing. I figured he must've gotten back late with Sean after causing whatever mayhem he had at the Gray's, so I left him alone. I couldn't help but think of the Pinkertons, Leviticus Cornwall, the countless people who wanted him dead or locked up, and seeing him looking so peaceful and harmless curled up asleep like that… none of it seemed possible.

Who on Earth could be mad at a face like that?

I took a drink of coffee as I sat down by the hitching posts. Some of the horses were still sleeping, including Rayna, bless her. But Jet was awake, chewing his way through a bale of hay, tale flicking, ears twitching. He looked up at me once, decided I wasn't enough of a distraction, and carried on eating. I put my coffee down beside me, pressing the tin cup into the grass until it felt stable enough to leave, then opened up my journal, ready to draw Arthur's gift. I did a couple of warm up sketches; I'd never really drawn horses before, so this would be interesting. I did a couple of little doodles of Rayna first, considering she was asleep and I figured I'd do better without a moving target.

I approached it the same way I would a portrait, blocking in her basic shape, putting down a few guidelines to plan where her eyes would go, then her ears, her nose, the curve of her neck and the scruff of her mane. I made a mental note to give her a thorough brush later, then sketched away. I produced a few little drawings. Some of just her head, some of her full body. I was certainly doing better with the close ups of her face; proof that I shouldn't run before I could walk. I filled up two pages, remembering to drink my coffee before it went cold.

Once I felt comfortable with the subject matter, I turned to a fresh page and studied Jet for a while, noting the markings on his face; a white splodge right between his eyes. In the early morning light his coat looked very close to black, but as the sun moved further up in the sky, it hit him and picked out plummy tones on all his high points. I started drawing him, just his head, where he was swooping down to the water trough, noisily slurping away. I took my time just like Arthur advised, keeping my eyes on him as my hand moved slowly across the page to capture the roundness of his jawbone, all the way along the straight plain towards his muzzle. Fully warmed up to the action, I found myself able to look at him more than my page, just like Arthur did that day in Scarlett Meadows. He was rubbing off on me.

I put a lot into the drawing, very tempted to start again on numerous occasions. I forced myself to keep at it rather than wasting paper, knowing that nothing was set in stone and I could tweak as I needed, rework areas until they satisfied. Jet began to emerge from the page, not just any horse, but him, and I was pleased with my tenacity as I created something I was genuinely proud of. I hoped that Arthur would be proud too, once I gave it to him.

Pleased with my efforts, I leaned back against the hitching post and settled down to finish my coffee, chewing through a biscuit from the almost empty tin I'd snagged from Pearson's wagon. I enjoyed the early morning solitude, but I could hear movement across the camp as Pearson started his work for the day, butchering up that bear meat, ready to cook slowly throughout the day to keep it tender. I leaned my head back against the post and closed my eyes, taking a deep, still breath and listening to the wind in the trees. Just taking a moment of peace before the day truly began. Susan would be up and about soon, and she'd find something for me to do.

She was a lovely lady, but I'd soon learned that she didn't take kindly to layabouts. You had to earn your right to sit down and relax, with her sniffing about, so every day it was a challenge to have her catch you doing something worthy of some downtime in the evening. Otherwise, there was hell to pay.

"Morning, sunshine," the voice caught me by surprise and my eyes snapped open, settling on Arthur's dominating figure blocking the cloudless sky behind him.

"Arthur. Good morning," I smiled at him, patting the space beside me.

"Keepin' the horses company?" He mused as he sat down cross-legged next to me. He blew across the top of his coffee before taking a tentative sip. I hummed my affirmation, nodding and glancing out at the animals.

"Well, my coffee buddy was sleeping, so," I told him, and he chuckled. "Exciting night?"

"One way of saying it," he tutted, huffing in mild amusement. "If committing arson is your idea of excitement."

"Well, depends what I'm setting fire to," I joked. "Boxes full'a dynamite are always a good time. Just gotta remember to stand well back."

"Yeah? What do you reckon to fields of tobacco?"

"Hmm, I'd say that's at least a little exciting."

"Well, you should've been there last night," he laughed. I smiled, eyes lingering on him even when he looked away. I tapped on the tin of biscuits and he took one, crumbs catching in the stubble that he was yet to shave.

I thought about Isaac, his son, and tried to imagine Arthur as a father. I'd never seen him in that light before, but I could imagine him being good at it. Not that I had any desire to test the theory, I thought, blushing at the very idea.

It was as if he was reading my mind, with his next words. "I was thinking, last night, laying in bed. I'm glad I told you about Isaac. I don't speak about him much – at all, really – don't wanna bother folk with it. None o' these ever met him," he made a vague gesture to the camp. "They never mourned him, so I felt like a nuisance bringing it up, dragging people into my suffering. But telling you…"

He looked at me, really looked at me, in the eye. It always pulled me out of something when he met my eyes so intensely, as if I forgot the world was real until those moments.

"I figured, if we're doing this. If we're starting something together, then, you ought to know me. My pain, and all," he continued. "I hope that I can do the same for you, listen to your hardships. You're just like me; lost just about everyone. You put on a brave face, but you don't have to. Not with me, at least."

"Thank you," I told him under my breath, reaching to squeeze his knee. I took his words to heart, and after a moment I sighed softly and spoke. "I miss my father a lot more than I let on."

"Your father?" He repeated. I hummed and nodded.

"I take after him a lot. I loved my mother, of course, but she drank a lot. I didn't notice as a child but as I grew up, I reckon that drove a wedge between us. She never remembered anything I told her, was like having the same conversations every day, stopped me from really knowing her, and her me, I think," I shrugged, then smiled. "But my pa, he used to take me out riding, put me up front on his horse, and we'd sing songs together on the road."

Arthur smiled too, eyes still fixed on me.

"I miss that. More than anything, I do. But I try to miss it in a way that makes me happy to remember it, instead of sad that it's been and gone, you know?" I looked up in time to see his brows raise thoughtfully.

"That's a pleasant way of thinking, you got there. Something I'll try and keep in mind myself," he nodded. He chuckled and looked up to the sky absentmindedly. "I remember the time I went to see Isaac and Eliza, after he'd started walking. Kid came stumbling out the house when I showed up and you know what I did?"

"What?"

"I burst into tears. I weren't sad. I don't know what came over me, just seeing him growing up, doing stuff for himself, it made me so proud, ain’t ever felt anything like it. Eliza laughed at me, not being malicious or nothin', I just don't think she expected it. Anyway, that's one'a my most treasured memories."

"It's an honour that you shared it with me, then," I told him, stroking my hand across the top of his thigh. He put his hand over mine, stilling it and squeezing my fingers. “I’m glad that you have those memories.”

“Me too. If memories is all I have, I’m grateful for ‘em,” he told me. I glanced over towards Pearson, checking his view of us was obscured before I leaned across and kissed Arthur’s cheek.

He caught me before I moved back, capturing my lips in a true kiss, one that was quick and risky but just as sweet as they always were. When it ended, we remained close, sharing breath between us and enjoying the moment, despite pushing our luck.

“Been thinkin’ about the other night, a lot,” he whispered. Tone timid, yet there was a look in his eyes that smouldered and dared. I pressed my lips together, letting my eyes drop to his mouth. “Can barely believe my luck.”

“Luck’s got nothing to do with it,” I exhaled a laugh, a sharp shake of my head. Arthur smiled, licking his lips, tongue just barely ghosting over mine and making my breath stutter. “I ain’t quite sure what you mean by that.”

“Lady like you? And it's me who gets to see her like that?”

“Shhh,” I said softly, shaking my head. “You don't need to flatter me, Arthur, you’ve already got me.”

“I’m doin’ no such thing. I mean it, I sure ain’t done anything deserving of this good fortune, you know my life,” he told me through a breathy laugh. I leaned away from him, shaking my head again with a tut.

“Well, you better wrap your head around it, or get used to it, or something. I don't plan on that being a one off.”

“Oh?” the sound was playful, musical even.

“Mhm,” I nodded, keeping my eyes on the ground in front of me, fire igniting in my belly and, of course, my face. Arthur hummed softly, fingers reaching to brush some of my hair back. He came close and hovered there, mouth inches from my neck.

Footsteps, light but graceless, scuffing to a stop just a little way away. Arthur’s head snapped up to their owner, and I gingerly took a peek to my left. It was the feller Mary-Beth had been mingling with a fair bit, Kieran. My conversations with him had been few and far between, mostly small talk when we were both tending to the horses; but he seemed like a nice enough guy. Always really timid, though, especially then. His eyes were locked on Arthur’s and he looked ready to wet himself.

“Mind your goddamn business, O’Driscoll. And keep your mouth shut,” Arthur’s voice was dark, gruff and downright chilling. I hadn’t heard anything close to it since the first time I’d seen him at Horseshoe Overlook, and he’d been yelling at Strauss. It rose goosebumps on my arms and made me feel something in the pit of my gut that would’ve been fear if it was directed at me, instead it was a sort of exhilaration.

Kieran visibly gulped before giving a jerky nod and carrying on his way. I had no idea what the issue between the two men – well, between Kieran and most of the camp – was. It wasn't the best time to ask, however.

Arthur sighed loudly and leaned away from me. I couldn't help but let a small giggle escape, prompting a quizzical look from him.

“We’re not doing well with the whole ‘keeping this to ourselves’ thing, are we?” I said. Arthur scrubbed a hand over his face, releasing a tenuous groan. “Which reminds me. Abigail knows,” I added through another laugh.

“I don’t mind you telling your friends,” he shrugged.

“It wasn't me,” I gave him a look and his expression soured when the penny dropped.

“Dumb as rocks, no good, little bastard–”

“Hey, come on. Don't be like that.”

“Sticking his oar in–”

“Arthur,” I said sharply, capturing his attention. “Just remember he saved my life.”

“‘Bout the only useful thing he’s done since he dragged his scrawny ass back to us.”

“You don't hate him that bad,” I cocked my head and Arthur shrugged indifferently.

“Anyway,” I said suddenly, changing the subject. I presented my sketchbook to him, dropping it in his lap. “Couple pages in, I drew your boy.”

“You did?” he seemed surprised, opening up the sketchbook and flicking through to the drawing in question. He beamed when he saw it, face breaking into an unrestrained smile. It made my heart thump “Look at that,” he chuckled.

“You like it?”

“You did a fine job on this, of course I like it. Y’ should be proud of yourself,” he patted me on the thigh, began rubbing up and down. “Thank you, princess.”

“You’re most welcome,” I said, preening under his praise just a little.

He opened his mouth to speak, but his name met my ears from across camp. His hand froze its subtle movement and he looked over his shoulder. A newly risen Dutch was shouting him. He let out a little breath then looked back down at the drawing.

“I better go see what he wants,” he told me, eyes still roaming over the drawing of Jet, thumb kneading the edge of my thigh. “You going out with the girls tonight, that thing John was on about?”

“Oh, that. Yeah, I reckon so,” I nodded. “Are you coming?”

“Ahh, no. I think it's best I avoid that place, last time I was there, Hosea and I caused a little trouble,” he admitted sheepishly, and I didn't ask. “Anyway, you be careful,” he said, giving my thigh one last squeeze.

“I will,” I smiled, seeing him mirror it before he was heading off to see Dutch.

Rhodes Parlour House was as pleasant as I remembered it being from the few times I’d been there before. The place was clean and nicely decorated, crisp white table cloths and ornate furniture, a lovely curved staircase dominating the room, a polished bar at the back. Anyone would think we were somewhere like Saint Denis. The place was busy, the piano being played to grace the patrons with a lively tune, men were packed around the bar, others were taking up the tables. Women roamed the place too, but it seemed as though they were looking to make a dollar rather than spend one.

Mary-Beth, Karen and Tilly mingled with the patrons in their own ways; Karen was going solo while the others teamed up together. I was still sat with John, observing as the two of us sat opposite one another in a booth by the entrance. He'd been approached by three different prostitutes, now, prowling like kittens to try and coax him upstairs, and for once I found myself reveling in a perk of being female. Though, I didn't get off completely scot-free, the third of the women eyed me in a way that turned my face cherry pink and made John burst into fits of laughter. Perhaps it was something in my decision to wear pants that evening, despite the other womens' confusion at the choice.

I'd told them that desirability wouldn't benefit my plan.

The plan I'd told John all about, explaining that it'd require his assistance. He'd been more than happy to oblige, and now all we needed to do was wait for the right time and the right mark. Lucky for us, a man walked through the doors, dressed to the nines, a lady at least half his age hanging off his arm; fat guy with a perfectly curled moustache, cream coloured suit and a top hat. He looked like money, walked with his gut puffed out a mile ahead of him, and he was sliding into the booth behind us. I shot John a look and he nodded, and I pulled out what was hiding in my satchel. A piece of cloth wrapped around a tiny rock.

"Alright," I said, not keeping my voice down. "I think I've waited long enough. Do you have my money?"

"Show me the goods, first, then we'll talk money," he replied, leaning back and folding his arms across his chest. I saw the man, who was sitting in the space behind John, turn his head at the mention of the word.

"I showed you. My money, sir," I pressed through gritted teeth, and John sighed heavily.

"I want another look. Gotta make sure I'm getting the real deal, here," he countered and with a tense sigh I pushed the cloth bundle towards him.

"Alright, one more look, but we agreed a price last week. Remember that," I warned. John unfurled the cloth carefully. He stared down at the small, sandy chip of rock I'd picked up from the edge of Flat Iron Lake, carefully selected, even had little polished parts that shined in the light. It wasn't great, but it'd be good enough for someone with an untrained eye and under the bar's dim light.

John picked it up and held it up to the light, arm stretching out of the booth as he made a show of inspecting it. All the while I could see the guy in the seat behind him taking curious peeks over his shoulder. John made a humming sound, and sucked on his bottom lip for a while, making me wait for some kind of response.

"A hundred," he finally muttered.

"Excuse me?" I scoffed. "We agreed on two. And I know damn well even that's generous."

"I'm sorry? Who's the expert?" John snorted, putting the stone back down on the cloth and cocking a brow at me.

"I don't care to listen about your education again, sir. Two hundred," I smacked a hand on the table, and the mark finally made his move, slinking out of the booth.

"Excuse me, ma'am, but I can't help but overhear your conversation. This feller trying to go back on a done deal?" He questioned, leaning his palm on the table, back to John, effectively cutting him out.

"Damn right he is," I hissed, jabbing a finger in John's direction in disgust.

"Maybe I can be of assistance? I'm somewhat of a businessman myself," he said proudly.

"I don't know. I doubt you'll know much about it, unless you're a gemstone expert," I shrugged, shifting in my seat and reaching under the triangle created by his arm and his body to fetch back the rock.

"I ain't an expert in gemstones, but I don't need to be to help you two figure out a good deal. For a cut, of course," he smirked, straightening up again. "What'chu got here?"

I paused for a while, not wanting to appear too eager. I sighed, finally answering; "Australian opal. Mined it myself, this is the last of my lot. Trouble is, I come back to the US for a family matter and I've got every man and his dog trying to swindle me out of a fair deal. This feller's the third."

"Opal? Huh. That dull thing?"

"It's unpolished, of course. They don't come out the ground wrapped in gold ready to go on a lady's finger, you know," I narrowed my eyes at him and he nodded thoughtfully. He picked it up, and I flinched for show. He eyed up my reaction, then put it back down.

"Two hundred, you settled on? What's the issue?" He turned to John.

"No issue, friend. Just doing business. I'm sure you understand, being a businessman yourself," John shrugged. The man looked him up and down.

"You don't look like the type to be walking around with two hundred dollars in your back pocket," he sneered and John snorted, shaking his head.

"How'd you think I manage to keep it there? Feller like you, flaunting it, surprised someone ain't tried robbing you yet," John retaliated, and I very nearly laughed. The man hummed, considering his point. "Anyway, no one asked you. Get out of here. Best I can do is one-fifty, ma'am. Take it or leave it."

"I sold chips half this size in Saint Denis for three hundred. I ain't taking no less than two hundred," I wrapped up the stone and pocketed it.

"Thought you needed fast money," John said, leaning his elbows on the table. The man stayed put, watching the exchange.

"Not that fast, I ain't willing to get totally ripped off. Two hundred."

"You keep saying that, ain't gonna make the money appear," he laughed, shaking his head at me. I narrowed my eyes.

"I've got fifty dollars on me, should be buying my wife a fancy new frock from Saint Denis tomorrow, but she can wait. Also got a pocket watch worth a hundred or more depending on who you sell it to. Can give you the name of a feller, a collector, he'll pay top dollar," the man suddenly butted in. My belly squeezed in excitement.

"Didn't I tell you to get out of here? This ain't your deal," John stood up, meeting the guy at eye level.

"Hang on, that don't sound too bad," I pondered aloud, staring ahead and pursing my lips.

"We shook hands," John spun towards me, brow mashing down angrily. I laughed maliciously.

"Yeah, we did. At two hundred," I purred, enjoying the way the man glanced between us, eating up every word. John gnawed on his bottom lip for a while, leaning down to my level.

"I ain't got that much on me right now. I can do one-seventy," he told me under his breath, but loud enough for the man to hear it.

"I'll throw in my wife's necklace. Gold. Gotta be worth something, right?" Came his bid.

"Hey, like hell you will!" His wife yelled from the other booth.

"I'll buy you a new one, sweetheart," he called back.

"Stay the hell out of it!" John spat in his face, but the man was ignoring him, his eyes set on me. I hummed, pursing my lips and looking up to the ceiling.

"Seventy-five, the watch, plus my wife's necklace. You could get, what, at least three hundred out of all that?" He offered, forehead shiny, hands fidgety. I levelled my gaze to his, kept him on his toes for a few long seconds, then offered my hand to him. He grinned and shook it.

"Fuck you!" John yelled, storming out of the booth, his shoulder smacking into the guy as he stomped towards the bar. He only laughed, glanced at his wife in time to have a necklace thrown at him, then gathered together my items.

We made the exchange, tucked away our goods, and bid each other a pleasant evening. I sat back in the booth, draining my bottle of beer and smiling to myself, pleased as Punch.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #fanfiction #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 fanfic #John Marston #atink #reader insert

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themoneybuff-blog · 6 years

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10 Little Lifestyle Tweaks and How Much They Save

Cutting spending is an essential part of everyones financial toolbox, especially if theyre just getting started on their own financial turnaround or theyre hoping to accelerate their financial journey. The usual personal finance advice pushes people to look at the big expenses first. If you can cut out a sizable monthly bill, thats great! For example, if you can cut out your cable bill, youre probably saving somewhere around $100 a month, adding up to $1,200 a year. If you can trim your rent by $200 a month by moving and that doesnt add other expenses to your life, that one single move can save you $2,400 a year. Those big moves really make a difference. At the same time, its a big mistake to overlook the small moves that you frequently repeat. A move that can save you $1 a day adds up to $365 a year, which can make a big difference. Plus, such smaller moves often have much less life impact than a big splashy move. One great way to see this principle at work is to examine a number of ways that people might trim their spending and see how much it adds up to over the course of a year. Often, a simple move that doesnt save much on its own but comes up over and over and over again accumulates savings thats on par with big moves. Lets take a look at 10 such moves and how much they save (using a few assumptions to calculate the frequency of repetition). Order water at restaurants. Most of the time, when I go out to a restaurant, I order water as my beverage. I actually prefer it to a soft drink as the water allows me to enjoy the food itself more and doesnt add extra calories to the meal. Water is almost always free, whereas the soft drink ranges anywhere from $1 to $3. Savings:Well go with the price of a large soft drink at McDonalds here as a standard price $1.49. The average American eats out 1.8 times a week; if that person cuts out that soft drink each time, that adds up to $139.47 a year. Make your own laundry soap. I like to make my own powdered laundry soap by putting a cup of washing soda, a cup of borax, and a cup of soap flakes into a container and shaking it thoroughly, then simply using a tablespoon of this mix in each load of laundry. It does a wonderful job. I can buy a box of borax, a box of washing soda, and a bag of soap flakes at the store for about $14 total, which makes about 6 batches of my mix. Each batch handles 48 loads, so thats a total of 288 loads for about $14, or about $0.05 a load. A large jug of Tide costs $18 and does 96 loads, or about $0.19 a load. Savings: If you do a load of laundry a day, mixing your own soap in this way (basically shaking a small container once every month and a half and buying a few things at the store once every nine months versus buying Tide at the store once every three months) saves $51.10 per year. Eat a grilled cheese sandwich at home instead of a fast food burger. This is just a simple proxy for eating at home, but it was actually one of the exact steps that moved me towards eating out less often and eating at home more often. I would stop at a fast food place and drop $7 or so on a meal before I realized how much it was costing me. I remembered my lifelong love of a good grilled cheese, which consists of two slices of bread, two ounces or so of cheese, and a bit of butter, with a total cost of around $0.80. Thats a $6.20 savings. Savings: If I make that shift once a week, that adds up to $322.40 per year. Buy five store-brand items instead of name-brand items per grocery store visit. Most store-brand items are so similar to (or exactly the same as) name-brand items that you cant tell the difference aside from the packaging. Savings: Just by switching to store-brand items on five purchases a week at the grocery store (I buy more store-brand items than this, in reality, but Im keeping the estimate low), if you can simply save 50 cents per swap (this is definitely a low-end average as well), that adds up to $130 per year. Check out a book or a DVD from the library once a week instead of buying or renting one. Lets say, hypothetically, that you buy a new book or movie once a month for a cost of $15 and then you rent movies three times a month at a cost of $2 per rental, for a total cost of $21 a month. You can replace all of that with a weekly trip to the library, where you have an enormous selection of books and movies to borrow for free. Savings: If you make that into your new routine and stop buying one DVD or book a month and stop renting movies, youll save $252 per year. Adjust your thermostat temperature by one degree. This seems like it wouldnt make much of an impact, but the U.S. Department of Energy estimates that a one-degree shift in your home temperature shaves 1% off of your average energy bill. Savings: Given that the average energy bill is around $110 a month, simply shifting your thermostat by one degree from your normal setting lowering it in cold weather and raising it in warm weather will save you $13.20 per year. Every additional degree repeats that savings. Wash and rinse your clothes in cold water. Most of the expense of washing and rinsing your clothes comes from the cost of heating the water. Changing from a warm wash / warm rinse setting to a cold wash / cold rinse setting saves $0.49 per load. Savings: If you do a laundry load every day on average, as our family does, this adds up to $178.85 per year. Make your own cold brew coffee at home instead of buying Starbucks. A plain 16-ounce coffee at Starbucks runs $2.10 before tax. Using a simple cold brew coffee maker and a grinder, you can make 32 ounces of cold brew coffee at home for about $0.80 (including prorating 5 years of use of an inexpensive grinder and the maker) and then pour it and heat it in the microwave when you want it in the morning (just before you leave for the day, most likely). Savings: That means if you buy a 16-ounce cup of coffee each morning, youll save $1.70 a day on coffee by making cold brew yourself. If you make that switch every day, youre saving $620.50 per year. The savings is even greater if youre comparing a sweetened coffee at the shop versus using your own creamer and sweetener at home. Make your own broth. Rather than throwing away leftover vegetables, vegetable scraps, and meat scraps and bones, save them and then once a month put all bones and scraps of one type along with your vegetable scraps into a slow cooker along with enough water to cover everything with a few inches to spare. Add a few tablespoons of salt, a few peppercorns, and a bay leaf and let it simmer all day. Strain it and save the liquid and youll have a couple of quarts of broth for any use. This whole process takes a few minutes at most. Savings: A quart container of broth at the store costs $2. If you do this once a month, youll save $48 a year and have incredibly delicious broth. Ride a bike or walk to work if your commute is less than five miles. Not only does this serve as exercise for you, it also eliminates the cost of driving your car to and from work. The cost of fuel, oil, tire wear, other maintenance, and depreciation on even a short commute adds up to somewhere around $0.30 per mile. Savings: If you replace a three-mile commute each way with a bicycle or walking and you do it five times a week for 50 weeks a year, that adds up to $450 per year and a significant improvement in fitness. The point is this: Theres often a great deal of value to be found in tweaking the things you do every single day. If the new routine is similar in terms of effort, even squeezing out a cent or two each time you do that routine thing can add up to significant cash over the course of a year. Examine your life. Look for things you do every day or at least a few times a week that involve spending money or using up something that costs money. Is there a better way to do that thing that eliminates or reduces that cost? Whenever you find a way to do that, even if its saving only a little bit, youre saving quite a lot over the course of a year. Its not a life-changing difference, but its one that will definitely show up in your checking account over time, especially if you discover and implement several such things at once. Good luck! More by Trent Hamm: https://www.thesimpledollar.com/12-little-lifestyle-tweaks-and-how-much-they-save/

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