#i would stop going entirely but there are very very few other secondhand clothes stores still open in the area

[esleep]

all the goodwills in my area have permanently removed their fitting rooms and they also will only give you store credit for returns, and only if you still have the receipt and the tags on. jokes on them, i can and will try clothes on in the middle of the aisle.

[webrokethe4thwall]

Can you write a Fanfic where Rupert Swaggart finds his own brooch and gets his live back?

Sorry for the wait @the-deku-guy, but here’s your request!

Brooches before Swine

A large man adjusted his trench coat and fedora as he scanned the stalls of the jewelers’ black market. He was not searching for your standard silver necklace or ruby ring, but a brooch. Specifically, a cloaking brooch. Meat Sweats was once again on the hunt for a mystic cloaking brooch. However, even now as he looked over the charms laid out on the table, his hopes plummeted. Several brooches, ranging from simple to ornate to tacky, were lined up, but none of them were mystic.

He had been through all of the black market stalls, antique malls, and even online auction halls. Each location yielded the same result: nothing. The former celebrity chef released a frustrated groan. He had been so close to reclaiming his old life with the last brooch he had found here. If only those two pesky girls—the curly-headed one and the slime-ball—hadn’t stolen it from him and ruined his plans!

And to add insult to injury, they had trapped him in that backwater barbeque studio. Did those amateurs not understand how to properly prepare meat before cooking it?!

“Rubbish, pitchfork-wielding hicks,” Meat Sweats grumbled, stalking away from the broach district. “Don’t know the difference between brine and a bay leaf.”

Regardless of the past, Meat Sweats was determined to regain his fame, his cooking show, and his previous life as Rupert Swaggart. Nothing and no one was going to stop him! …Well, except for his lack of a human appearance. Meat Sweats continued to mutter under his breath. He had seen other mutants—pardon, yokai—with cloaking brooches. Why was he unable to find one? Maybe there was a recall for some kind of mystical enhancement.

“One moment,” Meat Sweats grunted. “A memory stirs.”

He put a fist to his chin as he thought of a past conversation. It had been a few weeks ago with a tiny worm mutant whose name completely slipped his mind. The fellow had said he purchased a mystical enhancement jewel from some mystic shop disguised as a secondhand corner store.

“If that’s the case,” Meat Sweats mused, “perchance a visit is in order.”

That very night, the pig mutant went to the corner store. He pulled his clothes tight to his frame upon entering the store. He didn’t much care if he looked suspicious; he just didn’t want the police called on him tonight. The first thing Meat Sweats saw was some skinny greasy guy standing behind the counter. This fellow must’ve been the cloaked yokai. Meat Sweats took in the man’s lackluster appearance, baseball cap, and vague scent of chevon. After taking a moment to size each other up, the mutated chef decided to break the silence first.

“I heard that you sell delectable jewelry in this establishment,” Meat Sweats said.

“Oh, we sell all kinds of things here,” the man stated. “Lamps, dolls, and toasters to name a few; but yeah, jewelry is in the mix. The name’s Clem!” He gave Meat Sweats a lazy onceover. “You, uh, looking for something particular, friend? Nudge, nudge.”

“Nudge, nudge?” Meat Sweats asked. “It’s ‘wink, wink,’ matey.” What a peculiar character.

“Clem, get your act together!” The man shook his head in self-deprecation. Giving the password away again because he forgot an idiom. How embarrassing!

Before Meat Sweats could fake curiosity over what Clem meant, the man began shedding his disguise. The now purple goat yokai rang the bell on the counter, revealing hidden compartments in the displays that contained his mystical wares. Clem spread his arms out, showcasing the jewelry on his shelves.

“You said you’re looking for jewelry,” he droned. “What kind?”

“Cloaking brooch,” Meat Sweats stated, tearing away his trench coat. “Can’t really go on live television looking like this, now can I?”

“Wouldn’t really recommend it, no,” Clem said after a low whistle. “I’ve got just the thing.”

He knelt down behind the counter and pulled up a tray laden with stunning brooches. Clem plucked one up and handed it to the pig mutant. Meat Sweats turned it in his metal hands, admiring the star-shaped silver with a shining pink pearl in its center. He pinned the brooch to his collar and gave it a little shine. Soon his body was wrapped up in the soft pink glow of the mystical cloaking energy. Meat Sweats looked at himself in the counter’s shiny surface. It was perfect.

“All kinds of handsome is me once again,” Meat Sweats, now Rupert Swaggart, grinned.

With a wink and kiss sent to his reflection, Rupert threw a few bills at Clem. He had no appetite for goat yokai shopkeepers at the moment. No, it was time for Rupert to reclaim his previous life in full.

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A few nights later, Mikey upped the volume on his kitchen television. It was time for Kondescending Kitchen, and he was determined to make the perfect risotto!

“Are you ready to unleash the flavor?!”

Mikey came to an abrupt halt. That voice…it couldn’t be! He focused fully on the television. Meat Sweats, disguised as Rupert Swaggart, stood front and center for a cheering audience. Not good.

“Guys,” the box turtle yelled, already reaching for his kusari-fundo, “we’ve got a problem!”

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Rupert left the stage with the sound of the audience’s queued cheers pouring into his ears. He smirked to himself as he entered his dressing room. It was quite refreshing to hear after months of absence from his television career. The station manager even said that she was going to schedule an interview about his dramatic transformations and his unexpected final return. Yes, his cloaking brooch shining brilliantly on his apron was working greatly in his favor. The chef grinned as he picked up the night’s winning dish: pork risotto.

“Time to savor my victory,” Rupert hummed contentedly.

“Not a chance, Meat Sweats!”

One yellow and four green blurs swept into Rupert’s vision. No, not these reptilian nuisances and that ruinous girl! While Rupert hadn’t done anything more than reclaim his television program from an undeserving rival, Meat Sweats should’ve known that these pains in his tendrils would catch wind of his return.

“Not you rotten eggs!” Meat Sweats snarled, ditching his disguise in favor of his more combat-ready pig mutant appearance.

“You know it!” April defiantly retorted. “Which poor yokai did you steal this brooch from?!”

Now Meat Sweats was genuinely confused.  He was also annoyed, but he had some modicum of integrity. He never stole the brooch. He didn’t even steal the first one! He bought both pieces fair and square. Granted his newest item was from a slightly more legitimate business. Nevertheless, why are these pests coming after him tonight?! He hadn’t even attempted to eat or poison anyone recently!

Before Meat Sweats could state his innocence, the fight was on. Raphael and Donatello charged him head on, while Leonardo and Michelangelo went for his sides. Meat Sweats easily knocked all four of them back with a swing of his meat tenderizer. He nearly missed April reaching for his rose gold cloaking brooch.

“Hands off!” Meat Sweats roared, stepping away from the girl and raising a protective hand over the shining pearl. “This is me own brooch!”

“Oh, yeah?” Mikey challenged. “Show us the receipt then!”

Meat Sweats, fed up with these annoying teenagers that always seemed to pop up in his life, shoved the seedy secondhand shop’s receipt into the smallest turtle’s face. The turtles and girl clearly didn’t expect this response. All fighting stopped, and it appeared the children were taking a moment to process the strip of paper between the pig mutant’s gloved fingers.

“Satisfied?!” Meat Sweats demanded.

“Wait,” Raph said in disbelief. “You actually, legitimately bought a cloaking brooch?”

“How much does one go for?” Donnie asked, squinting at the too small smudged numbers.

“Enough to get the job done,” Meat Sweats stated, stuffing the receipt back into his pocket. “Now, leave me be before I cook you all into turtle soup!”

“Not so fast,” Leo said. “Why do you need a cloaking brooch anyway. You’ve just been trying to eat and poison people this entire time. Did you want to do that when you were human, too, or is it a pig thing?”

Meat Sweats sighed in exasperation. Maybe he should’ve just let the fighting go on until either he passed out or they ran off. It was too late to find out, in any case. Now he had to converse with, ugh, teenagers about his rather tame plans and not-so-tame eating habits.

“Pig thing,” Meat Sweats stated shortly. He rubbed his cloaking brooch and reactivated his human façade. “I’m taking back what’s mine with this brooch. My show, my fame, and my life need my human face. I’m not about to let some mediocre fry cook take over my kitchen!”

The so-called chef the station had replaced him with was barely out of culinary school his skills were so dull. It boiled Meat Sweats’ blood. Whether those pesky teenagers liked it or not, Rupert Swaggart was making a comeback. Kondescending Kitchen needed him! Meat Sweats just needed a human face to rescue it. While some people were accepting of mutants or cosplay junkies, the public eye required a certain degree of discretion.

“How do we know you’re telling the truth?” April asked. She gave Rupert a distrustful once over.

“Not a problem!” Mikey interjected. He slid himself between his siblings and the returned celebrity chef. “We’ll just enroll him into my Evil League of Mutants Going Good Rehabilitation Program!”

“His what?” Rupert asked, baffled by whatever the exuberant turtle was rambling about.

“It is Michael’s method of transforming our enemies into allies,” Donnie drawled. “It has been showing promising results for Draxum. Though there may be a learning curve.”

“Yeah,” Leo reluctantly agreed, “but Draxum’s the only one that Mikey has worked with so far. How do we know it’ll work on this guy?”

“That’s easy,” Raph stated, fully confident in his baby brother. “Since we know that Mikey’s program worked on one of the worst people we know, we’ll help him with setting Meat Sweats on the right path.”

“And keep Mikey from getting star-struck,” April muttered, eying the way Mikey fawned over the sweaty chef.

Rupert rolled his eyes. What is wrong with these kids?! Were they seriously discussing the future of his moral status in front of him? He didn’t need to put up with this!

“Don’t I get any say in this?” Rupert demanded.

“No!”

All the teenagers glared at him, except for the orange clad turtle who had stars in his eyes. The audacity!

“Rubbish,” Rupert grunted.

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For weeks, Meat Sweats was under the unnervingly close surveillance of the Mad Dogs. A ridiculously unsuitable name for those five obnoxious kids. He despised how involved they forced themselves to be in his life. Telling him what to do and what not to do. It was annoying! Don’t eat the mutant silverfish this, and don’t sabotage your culinary rivals that. He was sick of it and was very vocal about his displeasure.

However, the teens didn’t seem to care nor let up in their efforts to conform him to the moral high ground. The chef didn’t know if reclaiming his glory was worth the hassle. At least he didn’t have to waste energy tenderizing their bones anymore. Michelangelo even had a realistic view of his character in spite of his fanboy attitude towards Rupert Swaggart.

The box turtle never expected him to become 100% kindhearted, if he ever became nice at all. However, Mikey did put limits on Meat Sweats and made him stick to some simple moral codes. Rupert just wanted to get his status as “Most Pretentious Chef in New York” back on track. Unfortunately, the youngest turtle did not allow him to perform any of his deliciously underhanded tricks on his competition.

“Meat Sweats!” Mikey admonished. He had just caught the reforming chef about to pour mystic poison into his delightful pizza puffs. Again. “What are we supposed to do with our culinary competition?!”

Meat Sweats released an annoyed grunt. He was getting tired of repeating his supposed mentor’s lessons, but it was mildly better than the intermittent fighting they used to go through.

“Out-serve them with quality meals, not quality poison,” Rupert droned. It was verbatim from one of Chef Mikey’s many “Maintaining Healthy Competition” lectures.

“Exactly,” Mikey said in a condescendingly sweet tone. He took the poison from Meat Sweats’ grip and yeeted it into the distance. “Now put on Rupert Swaggart, and let’s make filet mignon!”

Meat Sweats rolled his eyes at the young turtle’s antics but went along with it. Michelangelo was a decent enough chef for his age, proving his potential by the way he prepared that salmon when two drooling snakes were baring down on them. Rupert Swaggart activated his cloaking brooch and picked up a knife. He may as well humor Mikey with an attempt to mature his talent.

“Not a bad idea, lad,” Rupert agreed. “Filet mignon with roasted asparagus and,” he smirked, “truffles.”

Mikey’s eye twitched at the traumatic memory. “Not funny, sweat sock.”

Meat Sweats laughed uproariously, and even harder still when he saw Mikey’s annoyance growing. It was fun messing with this one. No matter what the chef threw his way, the young turtle always bounced back with an even snarkier reply. He might make a Kondescending Chef out of the boy yet. With no further preamble, the two mutants proceeded to craft a fine meal of filet mignon over roasted asparagus drizzled with mushroom sauce.

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A month later, Rupert’s program established itself as the most popular food-related show on television once again. Crimes related to a food truck driven by a pig mutant plummeted as the celebrity chef made more public appearances. He had finally achieved his goal. Now Meat Sweats could kick back in his apartment, resting in his easy chair, and let the adulation from his fans inflate his ego, and his wallet, once more. A loud knock on his door broke him out of the moment, and the door being kicked open entirely had the pig mutant falling out of his chair.

“What in blazes?!” Meat Sweats shouted, quickly activating his cloaking brooch.

“Sorry for the door,” April cheered, giving no sign of remorse at all. “But I come baring gifts, and they’re heavy!”

April lifted several plastic bags filled with groceries. Rupert gave the girl an annoyed glare. He got up from the floor, set his door back into place minimal effort, and stared his “visitor” down. The chef didn’t know why she was in his home without her turtle friends, but he did catch the delightful aroma of raw meat, seasonings, and vegetables wafting from the bags in her hands. April immediately went to the kitchen and dumped a few wrapped lamb chops, fresh artichokes, a jar of capers, and several other ingredients onto the countertop.

“What are you doing, girlie?” Meat Sweats asked, dropping his disguise.

He was well used to the turtles’ surprise visits, but they always came in through the window or a portal into the living room. April rarely came by herself, so the chef had yet to learn her favored way of barging in.

“Setting up an apology,” April replied, organizing the meat, spices, and other ingredients.

“A what?” Meat Sweats was taken aback. This teen had been screwing up his life for months. Why was she apologizing now? What was she apologizing for?!

“You’ve been doing pretty good since you got that cloaking broach and went into Mikey’s rehab program,” April snickered. She rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly. “And I started feeling kinda bad about trapping you in the ‘Sauce That Hog’ studio.” Meat Sweats frowned deeply at the memory, and April had the sense to move on to the ingredients on the counter. “So I brought over all the ingredients for fancy lamb chops.” She waved the bag of artichokes enticingly. “Including some mystic artichokes fresh from the Hidden City.”

Meat Sweats snorted at the attempt to woo his culinary pallet. He may not spend much time with the girl, but he knew April could kiss up to anyone’s better nature once she found their Kryptonite. His was fairly obvious, and the chef took great pride in flaunting his cooking skills.

“So you thought that catering to me superior culinary taste with mystic produce and corner store mutton would make up for that torment?” He wasn’t going to let April off that easily though.

“It’s actually hogget from my cousin’s farm,” April corrected. “She raises the best meat livestock I’ve ever tasted, so I thought you might like to try it.”

“No kidding?” Meat Sweats, surprised that April knew different types of lamb meat, looked at the wrapped meats inquisitively.

“It’s sheep meat,” April smirked, “not goat.”

“Why must you pun like the blue one?” Meat Sweats grumbled. “Just give me the ingredients and watch me—”

“Unleash the flavor!” The mutant and teenager chorused.

Meat Sweats wasn’t expecting that either. He gave April an odd look. Mikey was his fanboy, so what was her excuse? April just grinned.

“Mikey got me to watch a few episodes from his favorite seasons of Kondescending Kitchen,” she explained. “What can I say? It’s a catchy line.”

“Yes, well,” Meat Sweats countered, “it’s my line.” He knows it was a lame comeback, but he really didn’t know how to respond. One minute he and these kids are at each other’s throats, the next he’s cooking filet mignon and lamb chops with them. He shakes his head and gestures to the other side of the sink. “Hand me my knife block. I want to chop up these artichokes for a marinade.”

“Yes, Chef,” April saluted.

“Cheeky girl,” Meat Sweats commented.

He and April made a delightful set of lamb chops topped with marinated artichokes and seasoned capers. The chef figured that if the return of Rupert Swaggart meant being badgered by those annoying Mad Dogs, then there are worse fates he could have been forced to endure. They weren’t as awful as he dreaded. If he didn’t enjoy being a jerk so much, he may have been tempted to even call them his friends. He still might. Just not when they were around. He had an image to maintain after all.

[renegadepisces]

Bright Imagine: Kandomere accidentally meeting your family

After a brutal few weeks of almost nonstop danger in your days and seemingly unending paperwork in your nights, you were thrilled to have a day off. The fact that you could spend it with your older sibling and their family made it even better. Working with the MTF was amazing, but you wouldn’t trade a hefty hazard paycheck for time like this with your family. 

These are your favorite kind of days. Perfect weather with sunshine and the lightest hint of a breeze to keep you all cool and comfortable while enjoying the shops lining the pedestrian district of town. You were in one of the trendier human neighborhoods not far from the border of Elftown. It had a hip, artistic reputation, which meant that your nephews were frantically turning their attention from one attraction to the next as quickly as their wondrous, adorable child minds would let them process the scene in front of them. The street was full of other families and couples out enjoying the weather, some holding shopping bags or takeaway containers. 

Your sibling and their young family lived in a quiet suburb while you lived further into the city, but you joined forces on weekends like this to expose the kids to some of the more positive parts of living near LA. You carried your oldest nephew’s gym bag slung across your shoulder, allowing him to chase after his little brother, giggling as they revolved around you and their parents like planets hurdling through space. They’d come from tae kwan do practice and hadn’t wanted to change clothes before lunch. Their baby sister cooed in her stroller at clouds passing in and out of her line of sight overhead.

“What a nice day,” your sibling sighed, “So, how is work y/n?”

“Honey, not in front of the kids.” Their partner warned through a forced smile to avoid alarming the children. “No offense y/n.”

“None taken.” you assured them.

Your sibling didn’t work with the MTF like you, but they were an LAPD detective. You knew your in-law worried for you and your sibling, and you didn’t blame them. LA was a big city, and both you and your sibling saw some of the darkest and most dangerous parts of the city and its residents on a daily basis. Besides, your sibling knew enough from the law enforcement rumor mill and the local news to know exactly what your work life was like. 

“Fine, fine, are you seeing anyone then?” your sibling quipped. 

Their spouse groaned and shot an apologetic look your way before fussing with your niece’s sunhat. Your sibling always was immature, even if they were older than you. 

Your nephews whipped around at this question, suddenly very interested in what the adults were saying. 

“You know these precious boys are the only gentleman for me!” you said, pretending to be scandalized. Your nephews dropped their serious expressions for wide, toothy grins. You were, in their words, the coolest grown up, and they could be jealous of your attention. Of the few men you had dated long enough to warrant introduction to your family, they hadn’t liked a single one. To be fair though, neither had your sibling. 

“Oh y/n, would you mind staying with the kids while we run into this store?” Your in-law suddenly asked, stopping dead in their tracks on the sidewalk. The store window they were focused on looked like a promising place to find a gift for your younger nephew’s upcoming birthday.

“Of course!” you agreed, knowing firsthand what a bad idea it was to take 3 excited children into a store. 

You tempted your nephews away from the intriguing shop window - and the temptation to follow their parents inside - with the promise of gelato. You made monthly trips to this part of the city specifically to visit the bookstore next to the gelato shop, but you doubted you could convince the boys to let you go inside and browse the newest arrivals.

The boys ordered exactly what you knew they would - strawberry for the oldest and chocolate for the youngest. You treated yourself to a scoop of espresso and got a sample of orange-flavored gelato for your niece because you knew she always ate oranges first whenever they were put in front of her and assumed she wouldn’t mind orange-flavored gelato. 

You had just finished putting your wallet back in your pocket and rearranging your nephew’s bag on your shoulder when you felt both of your nephews grab you. The older one wrapped his small hand in yours, while his brother put his hand in your jeans pocket. It was a gesture you’d taught him half jokingly when he got old and independent enough that he didn’t want to hold anyone’s hand in public. It had been a compromise - he didn’t have to hold your hand but he did have to hold on. Both boys were at that age when they wanted to act and be treated like big kids - and that didn’t include hand holding. 

Concerned at their unusual behavior, you turned your attention away from the stroller to look at them. They were both staring intently in the same direction, toward the bookstore. You followed their gaze and noticed a familiar figure standing on the sidewalk. They were about the same height as you, wearing a strangely formal suit for a casual weekend stroll, and their hair was a striking and unnatural shade of grey and blue. And their eyes, which triggered you to finally recognize your boss through the pedestrians walking into your line of sight, were a piercing clear blue like the diamonds glittering in the nearby jeweler’s front window. 

“Special Agent Kandomere,” you greeted him, exhaling air you hadn’t realized you were holding in, “What brings you here sir?”

His lips creased as he drew closer. It wasn’t a smile, but it was certainly less of a frown than what you usually saw on his face. He was handsome regardless of his expression, but the fact that he never smiled made you anxious sometimes. You couldn’t tell if he liked you, or if he was even satisfied with your work most of the time. That didn’t bother you too much though. Your martial arts background brought a rare skillset to the task force, especially among humans, and your reviews so far were stellar. 

The boys’ grips on you tightened as he stepped closer. Were they afraid of him? They’d seen plenty of elves before, so you doubted that was the problem. Kandomere could certainly be intimating even to adults though.

“I’m here for the secondhand bookshop. They have a larger selection of Ovusi than most chain stores.”

You guessed that he lived nearby then. That made sense - this neighborhood bordered the Elven district. And you knew from personal experience how impressive the store’s selection was. 

Kandomere crouched down in front of you, bringing himself eye-level to your nephews. 

“And what are your names?” He asked. And for the first time since you’d met him - for the first time in the several months you’d worked side by side since joining the MTF - you saw him smile. 

The boys looked up at you, as if asking you for permission to talk to this stranger. You nodded encouragingly. Kandomere could be an asshole, but he wasn’t bad. He seemed to be putting in effort to be nice to your nephews. 

Cautiously, they told him their names. Kandomere shifted his gaze up make eye contact with you once more, and you felt a little awkward as you took in the site. Your boss, a respected - even feared - MTF Special Agent in Charge was crouching on a crowded sidewalk in a three piece suit that probably cost more than your rent and car payment combined. 

“Are you training to be like your mother one day?” He asked your oldest nephew, no doubt observing the gym bag slung around your shoulder and the fact that your oldest nephew was still wearing his tae kwan do uniform.

You felt a blistering flush rise in your cheeks as your mouth suddenly went bone dry. Kandomere wasn’t the first to mistake your nephews for your children. After all, they had the same h/c hair as you and they generally resembled you in the same way that you resembled your sibling. But you’d never been this embarrassed by it before. 

“I wish I could take credit, but these are my nephews.” you blurted out.

The fact that Kandomere, instead of the offering the sheepish grin and hasty apology or joke about family resemblances that most people followed up that assumption with, only smiled more intently at you just made the whole situation seem more strange. There was something unfamiliar behind his eyes that you’d never seen before. You were certain you’d never made this much direct eye contact with him in the entire time you’d known him, so maybe that wasn’t so unusual. 

But still. It was all very weird and you wished the ground would swallow you whole. 

“They certainly take after you in charm, agent l/n.” He told you as he rose to his full height in an easy, fluid motion that oozed grace and dignity. That was more like him, or at least the version of him you were familiar with from work. This friendly, smiling Kandomere who was currently eliciting excited coos from your niece was a complete stranger to you. 

You were about to respond with something unintelligible when you noticed your sibling and their spouse approaching. With the practiced stealth of a detective, your sibling waited until the last possible moment to make their presence behind Kandomere known before announcing themselves by loudly greeting you.

“You must be officer (l/n), y/n’s sibling.” Kandomere greeted them, not fazed at all by the tactic. He shook hands with your sibling, and then their spouse. 

Dimly, through the roar of your almost palpable embarrassment, you realized that was the first time Kandomere had ever referred to you by your first name. 

Your sibling finally noticed the paper gelato cups in their children’s hands and leveled a piercing gaze at you. 

“Really? Even the baby? What are you spoiling my children for now?” They weren’t upset. You often joked that spoiling their children was your way of getting back at them for how they picked on you when you were younger. 

“As if I need a reason.” 

“Well, I hope you’ve at least learned a lesson, since yours has melted,” your sibling noted. 

You looked down, having completely forgotten about your espresso gelato until he reminded you. Sure enough, the mound of aromatic, creamy confection had melted into a pale brown pool in your cup. 

“Espresso, y/n?” Kandomere asked, before another smile broke across his features, “you don’t stop mainlining caffeine even on your days off.”

“This one’s just as bad. They both get most of their calories from a Styrofoam cup, I swear.” Your in-law joked, gesturing between you and your sibling as she spoke. 

“Well in that case, you’ll have to let me make it up you on Monday,” Kandomere said. After quickly exchanging goodbyes with you and your family members, he turned to walk away in the direction of the shopping center’s underground parking garage. Unfortunately, this left you at the mercy of your family’s curiosity. 

“Y/n,” your sibling warned, “I think your boss just asked you on a coffee date.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” you said, “He gets coffee at work all the time.”

“Yeah, with his partner.” your sibling said.

“Come on honey, you did ask if y/n was seeing someone.” Your in-law teased. 

“He said they were charming,” your oldest nephew interjected excitedly as your sibling hauled him up to sit on their shoulders. 

“He was staring at you.” his younger brother added, tugging at your hip pocket in the unmistakable signal that meant he wanted to be picked up and carried too. 

“No he was not!” You hissed as a red flush crept into your cheeks again and you stooped to comply with his demand. 

“Was too!”

You groaned, once again wishing the ground would swallow you whole and spare you the pain of waking up the next morning and realizing that the whole incident had in fact happened and wasn’t some figment of your imagination. 

“Come on boys, let’s go get lunch. And then you can tell us what else Agent Kandomere said.” your sibling said, smirking even as they danced out of reach of the playful punch you lobbed at their arm. 

[remywrites5]

Your writing is so fantastic and makes me so happy. Could I please have some wolfstar? Thank you x

           Sirius got a sick thrill of the idea that his mother would absolutely lose what was left of her mind if she knew her eldest son was shopping at a secondhand store. It wasn’t very upper class of him to be buying jeans and t-shirts that had been worn by a previous owner. Walburga Black hadn’t even reused baby clothes for her second son because to do so would imply they did not have money to burn.

           Not that it really mattered what his mother or father would say about it anymore. Sirius had moved out of the seventh circle of hell that had been his childhood home and was living with his best mate, James, for the summer until they both went off to Uni. Sirius had taken to buying his clothing at a secondhand store anyway, because he absolutely adored anything vintage, and it was the only time he got to wear what he wanted. It wasn’t as if his mum was going to give him the money to go out and buy some leather trousers.

           He knew the Potters wouldn’t have a problem buying him so clothes, but he would never have the heart to ask. He already felt like a prat staying at their house for the summer. James kept saying it was no big deal but Sirius hated being a burden. It was enough that they were housing and feeding him, they didn’t need to be clothing him as well. At least Sirius had some money from his part time job at the record store, but since the pay was shit, secondhand was all he could afford anyway.

           Sirius slid his hand over some jumpers and stopped when he reached one that was impossibly soft. He pulled it from the hanger and held it up to himself. It was a bit long for his slender frame but he knew he could make it work. Besides, he looked amazing in red with his dark hair and features. A little red lipstick to match and Sirius could make this impossibly cute.

           His high heel boots clicked against the hardwood floor as he brought his purchases up to the register. “Alright, Mr. Ollivander?” Sirius said to the kindly old man who ran the shop.

           “Same as any day, I suppose,” Mr. Ollivander responded in that resigned way of his.

           Sirius grinned. “I know just what you mean. I’m in the mood for some excitement!”

           “You won’t find much of that around here,” Mr. Ollivander informed him, bagging up his clothing and handing it to him. Sirius paid with the few quid in his pocket and took his change.

           “Then I’d better go find some!”

           Mr. Ollivander cracked a smile. “Good luck to you, then.”

                                                           ***

           Sirius got his stuff home and modeled it all for James even though it was very much against James’ will. James would have been happier continuing playing Fifa instead of watching his best mate try on clothes. “I told you, my mum would have taken you shopping,” James said in exasperation, lounging on his stomach as Sirius turned in front of the mirror.

           “Absolutely not,” Sirius said, turning his back to the mirror and craning his neck to be able to see his arse in the new jeans he’d just gotten. “Your parents are doing enough for me as it is. Besides, I go shopping like once a week.”

           “I know,” James said, pulling out his phone. “It’s where your entire paycheck goes.”

           “Any day now I could meet the love of my life,” Sirius said, turning back around and puckering his lips at his reflection. “They’re hardly going to fall in love with me at first sight if I look like a hot mess!”

           James rolled his eyes and continued scrolling through his phone. “As if you’d ever go out looking anything less than perfect.”

           “Says the guy who spends half an hour in front of the mirror to get the perfect sex hair,” Sirius said, grabbing his liquid lipstick off the dresser and applying some.

           James huffed indignantly. “I’ve never in my life –“

           “Yes, you have,” Sirius said, wiping a bit of lipstick off his teeth. “So don’t give me shit about wanting to look good.”

           James shrugged. “It’s a fair point,” he conceded, rifling through the bag of clothes, clearly bored with whatever he’d been looking at on his phone. “What is this?” He pulled the red jumper from the bag and held it up. “

           “Oh that!” Sirius said, walking over. “Isn’t it incredible?”

           “That’s one word for it,” James said, raising an eyebrow. “You’ll be swimming in it.”

           “I’ll have you know that I’m a perfectly respectable height!” Sirius told him indignantly, knowing it wasn’t really true. There was a reason he often wore three-inch heels.

           “Hold on,” James said, dropping the jumper into his lap. “There’s a name on the tag.”

           “Ooh, what’s it say?” Sirius asked, sitting down next to James.

           “Property of R. J. Lupin,” James read aloud. “Well, not anymore.”

           Sirius yanked the jumper out of James’ hands and checked the tag. He let his thumb slide over the letting, neat and precise, fitting exactly on the tag. Something about it was oddly comforting, just like the jumper itself.

           “Earth to Sirius, hello?” James said, waving his hand in front of Sirius’ face. “What’s wrong with you?”

           Sirius hugged the jumper to himself. “I don’t know,” he said, feeling funny. Maybe this was just the adventure he’d been looking for.

                                                           ***

           For the next few weeks, Sirius became obsessed. As soon as he’d been paid, he would rush over to Mr. Ollivander’s and check each piece of clothing in the shop for a tag belonging to R. J. Lupin. So far, Sirius had collected a t-shirt, a pair of jeans that were nowhere near fitting him, three more jumpers and a pair of pyjama bottoms that he slept in every night, even though they were practically falling off his slim hips.

           He’d also interrogated Mr. Ollivander about R. J. Lupin but hadn’t gotten anything out of the old man. It was unbelievably frustrating. Sirius knew that R. J. Lupin had to be coming into the shop because new clothes kept turning up, but no matter how much time he spent amongst the racks, hoping for some sign of him, he found nothing other than his discarded clothes.

           It was on a whim that Sirius decided to pop down to the shop during his lunch break. Mrs. Potter had packed him a peanut butter sandwich to eat and he had shoved it down quickly so that he would have time to get to Mr. Ollivander’s and back. The bell chimed with his arrival and he was about to greet Mr. Ollivander when he noticed a boy arguing with him.

           “You don’t understand,” the boy was saying, tugging on one of his curls. “That was my favorite jumper. My nan knitted it for me.”

           “I’m sorry but there’s nothing I can do,” Mr. Ollivander said with an apologetic sigh. “If it’s not in the shop then it’s gone.”

           The boy let out a distressed little noise. “I can’t believe my mum gave it away, I – “ he glanced over at Sirius and then stopped, his eyes widening in surprise. “Hold on, that’s it!”

           Sirius watched as the boy marched over to him and looked him up and down. “Can I help you, mate?” Sirius asked, giving the boy a cheeky smile.

           “That’s it, that’s my jumper!” the boy said, gesturing to the red jumper that had become Sirius’ favorite.

           Sirius felt his heart beginning to race. It couldn’t be him after all this time, could it? “No, this is my jumper,” Sirius said, shocked that he could sound so casually while internally he was flipping the fuck out. “I bought it.”

           R. J. Lupin huffed, making his curls blow off his forehead. “Well it was mine first. It’s even got my name on the tag.”

           Sirius cocked his head to the side. “R. J. Lupin?”

           “Yes!” Remus said, getting closer to Sirius. “Remus John Lupin, that’s me!”

           Sirius glanced up at Remus (Remus! John! Lupin!)and felt himself swooning. Remus was tall, just as Sirius had thought he must be. Even in Sirius’ heels Remus had quite a bit on him. His eyes seemed to be hazel but the sunlight made them look almost like honey. This had turned out even better than Sirius could have hoped for.

           “Well, I’m sorry Remus John Lupin but I bought this jumper fair and square,” Sirius said with a shrug.

           Remus scowled at him and fished his wallet out of his trousers. “How much did you pay for it? I’ll give you five pounds.” He held out the money and Sirius glanced at it for a moment before shaking his head.

           “Sorry, the jumper is not for sale,” he told Remus in no uncertain terms.

           Remus worked his jaw for a moment as if trying to maintain his composure. Sirius bit his bottom lip and wondered just what would happen when that calm, cool exterior broke. Remus looked him up and down again and then sighed heavily. “Fine, keep it then,” he said, shoving his money back into his wallet.

           “That’s it?” Sirius asked, feeling a little disappointed that Remus hadn’t pushed the issue further.

           Reus shrugged. “If you won’t give it back, you won’t give it back, I’m not going to steal it from you.” Remus put his wallet away and tugged his fingers through his hair in frustration. “Besides, it looks better on you anyway.”

           Sirius grinned, preening at the compliment. “Well, I’d be willing to do some sort of joint custody situation.”

           Remus chuckled. “For a jumper?”

           Sirius nodded. “Maybe you could have it one week and I could have it the next? It’ll be like the Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants only, you know, less stupid.”

           Remus quirked an eyebrow. “I don’t know, this sounds pretty stupid.”

           “I mean, I could just keep the jumper if that’s what you want.”

           Remus took a moment to consider. “I don’t believe you’ve told me your name.”

           “Sirius Black.”

           “Fine then, Sirius Black,” Remus said, holding out his hand. “Meet me here, same time next week.”

           Sirius shook on it.

                                                           ***

           Weekly trade-offs of the jumper kind of turned into weekly lunch dates with Remus. It took a little coaxing but Sirius finally got Remus to share his peanut butter sandwich. Eventually Sirius got Remus’ number, just in case of emergencies, and immediately began texting him for very non-emergency related things. He took a picture of himself in Remus’ old pyjama bottoms and no shirt, sending it to Remus, because Sirius was a shameless flirt.

           Wait, I recognize those!

           Finders Keepers

           Just how many discarded articles of my clothing do you own?

           A fair few.

           It’s a good thing Ollivander’s doesn’t take pants or you’d probably have those as well.

           If you want me to wear your underwear, Remus, all you have to do is ask.

           Yeah but I don’t though because that would be weird?

           Only if you make it weird.

           You’ve made it weird.

           I don’t think so. That was you stinking the place up with your weirdness.

           You’re ridiculous.

           You like it.

           I’m admitting nothing.

                                                                       ***

           Sirius went bounding up to Remus excitedly. Remus had already been outside Ollivander’s waiting for him and the sight of it made Sirius’ heart melt. “You know, Remus, I’ve been thinking.”

           “Uh oh,” Remus said, taking the jumper when it was offered to him.

           “We’ve been passing this jumper back and forth for a while now and it’s almost like shared custody. But we never got the fun part of being married.”

           “Why Sirius, are you proposing?” Remus asked, putting his hand to his heart and laughing.

           “Well, maybe not marriage, I was thinking more like a date.”

           Remus stopped laughing and stared at Sirius. “You want to go on a date with me?”

           “Duh,” Sirius said, rolling his eyes. “I thought the constant texting and the fact that I own a fair bit of your clothes might have tipped you off to that.”

           Remus chewed on his bottom lip thoughtfully. The silence dragged on for a bit too long until Sirius couldn’t stand it anymore. “Well fuck, Remus!” he said, throwing his hands up in the air. “Don’t do me any favors. Just forget I said anything and we’ll – “

           Sirius was cut off by Remus kissing him. It was a bit painful for a moment, teeth clacking against each other, until the kissed smoothed out into something a little less frantic. Sirius pressed in close to Remus and wrapped his arms around his neck. Remus responded by placing his hands on Sirius’ hips and pulling him even closer until they were flush against each other. Sirius moaned and opened his mouth, allowing Remus access to slip his tongue in.

           The red jumper was pressed between their bodies as Sirius started a new adventure of learning all the different ways he could kiss Remus John Lupin.

[fanfictionandmore]

The Kreizler Institute | The Alienist + Mphfpc

[Chapter One | New York] 

Jade's POV:

The sound of rain caught my attention as I got ready for the day. I didn't really have to go anywhere, so I didn't mind that it was raining. After I was dressed I headed downstairs to get something to eat. When I walked into the kitchen I found my uncle Alfius cooking breakfast for us.

"Good morning, sweetie. How did you sleep?" He asked me curiously with a small smile on his gently wrinkled face. I just got into town last night, so I was still kinda tired but other than that I was doing just fine. "I slept alright." I replied with a smile of my own as I walked towards a cabinet and retrieved a mug from one of the shelves.

"Good. I'm glad that you decided to take a vacation. You deserve one for working so hard all the time. I just wish that the weather was a little better." He said as he turned his focus on cooking eggs and bacon for us. "It's fine. I actually love the rain; it's good for writing or reading or watching movies." I said as I pouring freshly brewed coffee into the mug I had picked out.

"Best to stick to reading or watching movies. You won't be writing on my watch. That is my what you're taking a vacation from after all." He said, and I knew he was right. I've been burnt out from writing so much. My lack of creativity is my own fault for not being firmer with my publishing agent. All she wants from me are new stories so she can make more money.

But I didn't start writing for money; I started writing to build interesting worlds and give someone an escape from reality. I pressed my thoughts to the back of my mind and took a seat at the kitchen table. When breakfast was finished my uncle and I ate and talked about various different things. We just wanted to catch up on everything we've missed in each other's lives.

Once we were finished eating I volunteered to wash the dishes, and he helped dry them. I spent most of the day sitting on the couch watching movies with my uncle, who fell asleep in the middle of The Hobbit. Around lunch time the rain had stopped and some golden sunshine peaked through the thick gray clouds.

"I think I'm going to go for a walk after lunch. Do you wanna join me?" I said, breaking the silence after shutting the tv off. "No, I think I'll stay inside. The damp weather makes my joints hurt." He said and rubbed one of his elbows to show his point. I mad us something to eat for lunch since he was kind enough to make breakfast.

After I ate, I slipped on a plain black hoodie and headed out. "Stay safe, and don't do anything I wouldn't do." My uncle said, which made me smile. "I promise I'll stay safe, Alfius." I replied with a small laugh. I stepped outside and walked down the steps that lead down to the sidewalk. The streets were full of people going to their destinations. I let out a deep sigh and my breath turned into white mist as it hit the cool air.

Spring was just starting, but the winter chill hadn't left quite yet. I decided to go to the nearest park, which was too far. I entered the black iron gates of Stuyvesant Park and took in the wonderful sights it had to offer. The budding blooms on trees looked so bright and beautiful against the clouds. The golden light that was peaking through various cracks in the sheet of gray covering the sky looked absolutely brilliant.

Droplets of water clung to every surface as well. I admired the reflections that were the rain puddles as I walked through the park. Barely anyone was enjoying the bright greens that adorned the place. But it wasn't surprising considering the fact that had been pouring down rain just a few minutes or so ago. I stumbled upon a little pond during my peaceful walk, and smiled when I spotted a couple of water foul floating on the surface.

A male and female mallard duck were quacking as they moved around the small pond. I wanted to get closer, but I didn't want to scare them away so I stayed where I stood and just watched them. A few moments passed before I decided I should be on my way. After leaving the park I walked around the little neighbourhood near the park. One of the houses on the opposite side of the street I was walking on caught my attention.

When I looked up at the windows I spotted someone looking out of one. It took me a moment to realize it was a boy; he looked no older than sixteen years old. There wasn't anything very significant about him except for the clothes he was wearing. They looked like they weren't from this era, in fact... they looked as if they were from the nineteenth century. 'Maybe they're cosplayers or something.' I thought inside of my head.

The boy must have sensed that someone was watching him, because he turned his head in my direction. As soon as he spotted me he quickly stepped away from the window and violently pulled the curtains closed. I hoped I didn't make the boy uncomfortable. I was really only admiring the architecture of the home. I pressed my thoughts to the back of my mind and went on my way. Instead of going straight to my uncle's place, I spotted an old secondhand bookstore.

The cozy little shop was just calling my name, so I had to go in and look around. When I opened the door a small bell rang letting the store clerk know someone had came in. "Good afternoon, welcome to Millard's Secondhand Books. If you need anything just give a shout." An ancient looking man said with a kind smile. He would have been just as tall as me if he wasn't hunched over so badly.

The white hair on his head was sticking up at odd angles as if he hadn't brushed it in ages. A set of very thick, round glasses were sitting on the bridge of his crooked nose as well. His misty blue eyes were magnified ten fold, giving him this bug like quality. I nodded slightly to let him know I understood him. Then I turned my attention to the many dusty books that were occupying the shelves.

The shop was eerily silent; not like the silent atmosphere one would find in a library. It was like the quietness had a heaviness to it. The old floorboards didn't even creak like I had expected them to as I walked forward. It was as if the entire place was holding it's breath... waiting... like a sleeping dragon guarding it's precious gold. 'You're just being silly, Jade. The only reason you're thinking about dragons is because you just finished watching The Hobbit films.' I thought inside of my head as I turned to my right and headed down one of the isles.

I studied every book spine my eyes raked across and pulled various books off shelves to see if they were worth buying. Time seemed to stand still as I looked around that little shop. Eventually something did peak my interest. A slim black leather book caught my attention. The image of a bird with a pocket watch in it's beak and a snake in it's talons was encircled by an elegant oval; the engraving in the leather was done in gold. Tales of the Peculiar | Millard Nullings was etched on the spine.

Other than that there was no other writing on the book whatsoever. 'Take it. It has been waiting here just for you.' A voice said inside of my head like it does every time I find a wonderful book. I finished looking around and walked up to the clerk desk, ready to make my purchase. "Did you find what you were looking for?" He asked me curiously as I handed him the book I had found.

"Well, I wasn't really looking for anything. I think it found me to be honest." I replied with a small smile and his eyes sparkled. He placed the book in a brown paper bag before I handed him the money to pay for it. "You have a lovely day, and enjoy your book." He said as he handed me my change and receipt. "Thanks you have a lovely day as well." I replied before leaving the shop and finally heading back to my uncle's place.

When I entered the house I could hear that my uncle was on the phone talking to someone, so I tried to be as quiet as possible. I took my wet shoes off before heading upstairs to my room. Once I removed my hoodie I sat down on the bed and took the book I had bought out of the bag. I was just about to open the front cover when there was a knock on the door.

"Jade, is that you? I thought I heard you come in." Alfius said on the other side of my bedroom door. "Yeah, it's me." I replied. "Good, because I have an old friend that's coming over for dinner tonight. I think you'll like him." He said and I suddenly got nervous. I've never met any of his friends before even though I've known him literally all of my life. I just suddenly realized that for some reason and I couldn't help but realized how odd that was.

But I sat my new book aside and pressed thoughts to the back of my mind. I knew I'd have to help Alfius cook dinner but I didn't mind. I actually enjoy cooking, which is a plus when you live on your own. It keeps you from eating fast food all the time. Together we made some kind of french dish I couldn't even pronounced. I was glad my uncle was there to help and guide me through making it, because if I didn't have him I would have messed up spectacularly.

"I'll have to show you some new dishes to make so you don't get bored when you go back to Maryland." He said with a small smile as we started cleaning up a little. "I'd appreciate that." I replied happily. I wiped some sweat from my brow just when the doorbell rang, and my stomach filled with anxiety. "That should be him. I'll get it." My uncle said before he went off to answer the front door. I took a deep breath and hoped his friend wasn't too fancy, especially since I wasn't dressed up in the slightest.

I had on a pair of black jeans and a plain black t-shirt that was a little too big for me. But that's just my style; I actually hate tight fitting clothes. I could hear another male voice talking with my uncle, and I hoped this guy was nice... whoever he was. "Here she is. Caleb, this is my niece Jade." Alfius said, introducing us. I was absolutely dumbstruck because I knew the mad who was currently standing in front of me.

It was one of my favorite authors in the whole world... Caleb Carr. He was much taller than I expected, which was a little intimidating. It took me a moment to realize he had his hand outstretched for me to take, and I felt like a complete idiot. "Hi. I... I'm really big fan of your work." I said. To say that I was nervous is an understatement. We shook hands and politely smiled at each other.

"Thank you. Your uncle told me you were a writer, but he never mentioned that you're a reader of my work." He replied as we let go of each other's hands. I mentioned that my uncle probably didn't even know that I read his books. Alfius went into the kitchen to get us something to drink while we waited on the food to be done. The two of us made small talk and he asked me which of his books were my favorites.

"I love The Alienist and The Angel of Darkness. Your characters in those stories are so likable and interesting. My favorite character is Dr. Kreizler." I said, blushing a little. My introduction to those works of writing started after I had seen the tv adaption of The Alienist. While I watched the show I kinda developed a crush on Kreizler; not to mention the fact that I developed a crush on Daniel Brühl in the process. He is the actor who plays Dr. Kreizler after all.

But I fell even more in love with the character when I finally read Caleb Carr's books. "Most people tend to like the other characters more, but that just proves your uncle right. You are different from other people." Mr. Carr said with a small smile on his face. As we talked I wondered how much my uncle actually mention me to his friends here in New York. But I guess I'd soon find out over dinner.

++++++++++++++++ A/N: Thanks for reading!! This is my first crossover fanfiction, so I hope you guys enjoy it.

[timelordthirteen]

The Bartender - Part 8

Mr. Gold/Belle French, Rumplestiltskin/Lacey, G

Summary: Originally a prompt fill for an Anon on Tumblr who asked for Bartender AU. Now a Dark Lace cursed AU.

Chapter Summary: Rumplestiltskin visits Belle (Lacey) at the Rabbit Hole to make amends, and a date happens.

Notes: Sorry for the delay in an update. Familiar lines shamelessly taken from the episode Lacey. ;) I hope you all continue to enjoy where this is going.

[AO3] [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8]

Belle wiped her rag over the bar, pressing hard and digging with her thumb nail to scrape up the sticky sludge of squished cherry.

She frowned and finished wiping up the stain, tossing the rag in the sink as she walked the length of the bar. The initial post-work rush had slowed, which left her with too much time to think. Mostly about Gold.

Their encounter a few evenings ago had left her shaken and confused. Why did he call her Lacey? Why was he babbling about a queen? If it had been anyone else she might have believed they were drunk, but it seemed quite of out character for Mr. Gold to be openly intoxicated. He could have been in some kind of accident, or hit his head perhaps, but physically he’d appeared to be fine despite leaning on his cane a bit more heavily than usual.

Then he’d kissed her.

She swallowed and leaned against the back counter. The kiss had been lingering on her mind since that night, playing out in her dreams in a hundred different scenarios, some of which ended with them in a very compromising position in his shop. Her cheeks flushed and a slow heat crept up the back of her neck.

Just then, the man in question appeared, standing just inside the door with his hands folded over the handle of his cane.

Belle licked her lips and turned away as he strode over to the bar, taking his usual seat near the far end. She stacked a few glasses into the rack behind the bar, and pulled another pint of IPA for Leroy. Goosebumps rose on her arms, despite the warmth of the room, and she could sense Gold’s eyes on her, following her movements as she set the beer in front of Leroy.

She busied herself with lining up a row of shot glasses on the back counter, until he cleared his throat to get her attention. “Can I get you something, Mr. Gold?”

“Scotch,” he replied. Then he paused and ran his fingers back and forth over the edge of the bar before adding, “And perhaps a moment of your time?”

Finally, Belle met his eyes as she set the glass of Glenfiddich down on a small napkin. Her eyebrows lifted, waiting, and he sipped at the drink before he spoke again.

“I want to apologize for my behavior the other night,” he said, turning the glass with his fingers as he looked between it and Belle’s face. “I was...not quite myself, and I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I behaved terribly, and it won’t happen again.”

She shook her head and forced a smile. If he regretted the kiss, it was fine, she knew her feelings had always been one-sided. “It’s alright, Mr. Gold, I could tell you weren’t feeling well. I know if you hadn’t been that we wouldn’t have - I mean you wouldn’t have -”

His hand covered hers and she stopped abruptly, her eyes widening as they drifted the length of his arm, up to his face.

“I didn’t mean that,” Rumplestiltskin said, giving her a soft smile. Her lips against his felt so right, so perfect. He couldn’t allow her to believe he regretted it, no matter how awkward it had made things between them.

Belle’s skin warmed and her lips parted as she let out a surprised ‘oh.’ Rumplestiltskin shifted and moved around the end of the bar to stand toe-to-toe with her. He reached for her hand again and brushed his thumb over her knuckles.

“Now that I’m back to my old self,” he began, fighting to hold back a smirk at how very true the comment was, “perhaps we could...spend some time together.”

She licked her lips, watching as his eyes followed her movements. “So like...a date?”

His mouth twitched, curving slightly at the corner. “If you like, yes.”

She shivered and swallowed hard as he looked down at her, something tickling the back of her mind as she contemplated his offer. She wanted to know who Lacey was and why he was so intent on that name, and her, the other night. Maybe it was nothing, but the strangeness of the entire situation made her think there was far more to it than Gold feeling a bit out of sorts.

He didn’t regret kissing her, and he definitely seemed like he wanted to do it again. Right now in fact, if the way he was looking at her was any indication. The unspoken offer in his eyes was entirely too tempting.

Belle stepped back, pulling her hand from his. He started to frown, assuming she was declining his invitation.

“I’m sorry, I -”

“Yes,” she interrupted, secretly delighting in his surprised but pleased expression. “Where and when?”

“The Italian place by the water? Tomorrow night?” he suggested.

Lacey had always enjoyed the finer things, food and clothes and flowers from the exotic places they traveled. The restaurant in question was the fanciest that Storybrooke had to offer, such as it was. He thought it would help to immerse her in the life she had forgotten, hopefully triggering latent memories that would ease the breaking of her curse.

Belle nodded in agreement, forcing a smile while her stomach twisted itself in knots. She had never been there before, and the only thing she’d heard about it was that it was pricey. It seemed Mr. Gold was very serious about this date.

“That sounds...lovely, Mr. Gold.”

Rumplestiltskin gave her a crooked smile and inclined his head, feeling nearly giddy at the prospect of having Lacey back in his life. “Until then my - Belle.”

Belle fidgeted in her seat as she studied the menu.

Everything sounded both delicious and expensive, just as she’d heard around town. She glanced around the room, awed by the soft glow of candles, starched white tablecloths, and gentle click of silver against fine china. Sure it was just a small family run joint in Storybrooke, but it was like a five star restaurant in the big city to her, and she had never felt more out of place.

Burgers at Granny’s was a treat for her, and it would have been more than fine if they had gone there. She couldn’t recall ever eating at a place like this, but it had been Gold’s idea, and she didn’t want to be rude by suggesting somewhere that was probably beneath his standards outside of the occasional cup of coffee in the mornings.

“Any idea what you would like?”

His voice startled her, and the menu slipped between her fingers, nearly sliding to the floor if not for her last second save.

“Uh, I’m not sure,” she said, flashing him what she hoped looked like a pleased smile. “It all sounds good. What are you having?”

Rumplestiltskin sat back with a smile. “I usually have the fettuccine, but tonight I think I could go for the chicken parmesan.”

It felt odd to speak of his cursed self as if he was still the man she thought he was - Mr. Gold - as if he still picked up carry out almost every night and took it back home to his lonely pink castle. He wanted their old dinners back. He wanted lamb and gravy made rich with wine and mushrooms, and tender little potatoes simmered in butter. He wanted the delicate torts with tangy red berries, and to lick the drops of chocolate off his lover as they indulge themselves in the finer things, and each other.

But he was making concessions to the curse, and the crispy breaded chicken and thick marinara sauce sounded not entirely inedible to his palate. It also seemed the kind of thing Lacey might like, simple and homey, but flavorful with bursts of roasted garlic and gooey cheese. He hoped that was something she and Belle shared.

Belle nodded and looked down at the menu again. Chicken seemed reasonable, both to her stomach and to Gold’s wallet, but when she scanned the price column her eyes went wide. How could this restaurant charge that much for -

“Belle?”

She glanced up and met his eyes, as she hastily set the menu aside. “That - that sounds fine.”

The waiter came to take their order, and she felt even more awkward as she fumbled over her order. Gold gave her a warm smile and followed smoothly with his own order, including a bottle of white wine, but she sensed that he was not entirely comfortable, either. It was probably her fault, and he was probably regretting this date already.

The food was very good, but midway through their stilted conversation, she felt her stomach start to turn. Nothing she did or said was making the situation any less weird. Her outfit, a sparkly blue dress she’d purchased at the secondhand store just for this date, didn’t feel dressy next to his three piece suit. It felt cheap and trashy. She was just too uninteresting and boring for the enigmatic Mr. Gold. She was a nearly broke bartender on a date with the richest man in town.

Everything about this was wrong.

“Excuse me,” she said, pushing back from the table before standing up.

Sensing her discomfort, Rumplestiltskin stood up as well. “Is everything alright?”

Belle smiled. “Yeah, I just, um, need to use the washroom.”

He let out a soft ‘oh’ and sat back down, frowning as he watched her weave through the tables to the short hallway beside the bar where the bathrooms were located. Something seemed amiss but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. Their usual banter that had carried them through their first meeting and many other nights together at the Rabbit Hole, had fallen off into blase small talk. The spark that had been there when they’d danced together was a tiny, fizzled bit of ash. He was at a loss for what to do as his entire plan for the evening was crumbling before him. There would be no casual walk home, no soft goodnight kiss, no promise of more to come between them.

Rumplestiltskin thumped his fist on the table, shaking it and nearly sending her wine glass to the floor. He caught it at the last second, his frustration mounting at his own carelessness, and then realized Belle had not yet returned. He checked the time and then abruptly stood up, pulling out his wallet to toss some money on the table. It was twice what their bill would be, but he was in a hurry.

The hallway to the restrooms was empty, and he cautiously pushed open the door to the women’s room. It was empty as well and he took a slow, steadying breath, resisting the urge to put his fist into the wall.

A moment later, he was outside the restaurant, making his way back to his car when he heard the distinct clicking sound of heels on pavement. He followed it to the corner and caught a flash of Belle’s blue dress in the streetlamp.

“Belle, wait,” he called out, wincing at the ache in his leg as he tried to catch up to her. Thankfully, she stopped, and the pain eased as he came to stop beside her.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Gold,” she said, shaking her head.

“What happened?” he asked, hesitating to take her by the arm or hand. He wasn’t sure if he’d upset her somehow, or if there was something of the curse at play that he was not aware of. “Is something wrong?”

She huffed and stepped away from him. “No, I’m fine. I just needed some air.”

Rumplestiltskin moved to stand in front of her, blocking her path down the sidewalk. “But...our date? I thought it was - it was going well.”

Belle let out an exasperated sigh and shook her head again. “No. No it wasn’t.”

“What?” He reached for her and she shrugged him off.

“It never was,” she said, folding her arms over her stomach. “This place, this dress...I was trying okay? But it’s not me. It’s - it’s you.”

He smiled and brushed her arm, feeling the chill of her skin from the night air. “Let me at least drive you home, La - uh, Belle.”

She stepped back again, her eyes wide and her mouth open. “Oh. This - this is about Lacey isn’t it?”

“No no, just -”

“Look,” Belle said firmly, holding up a hand. “I don’t know who the hell she is to you, but I am not her.”

With that she walked past him, her shoes loud and echoing in the darkness, and Rumplestiltskin sighed. “Yes you are, my love,” he said quietly, turning to watch her leave. The sight of her walking away, again, made it feel like his heart was being ripped from his chest, but he forced himself not to follow her. “Yes, you are.”

[throughtheglassdarkly]

Missing Pieces, part 5

Welcome back. When last you were here, Yova was being a gentleman and Day became a damsel in distress. Onward.

So of course the first thing you’re probably wondering is “How did Day get nabbed by the Knights of the Widow’s Walk?” I didn’t end up learning the whole story until much later, so this is all secondhand, but here’s the story as it was related to me. Rewinding to a few days before all this happened, Day had a pretty weird feeling that something was off. He couldn’t put his finger on it at first, but he confirmed it when he was out buying a six pack at his corner bodega and he saw a blue Subaru sitting out front. There wasn’t anybody in the car, but he was almost certain he’d seen that same car parked outside another stop he’d made a few days earlier.

Checking out the car, Day saw it had New York State plates and a large dent on the driver’s side door near the bottom, which was how he figured it was the same car. He also spotted a person wearing a puffy jacket and knit cap near the end of the block, leaning up against a street lamp and looking in his direction. He started heading after that figure, but when the dude saw him, he darted off. Day followed, but when he got around the corner, he saw that the figure had vanished into thin air. He did, however, see a paper fluttering in the wind with part of a red wax seal on it. Sound familiar?

Day took the paper back to his office and kept working on some of the paperwork for his PI license. None of us had heard from him much in a couple of days; he’d kept telling us he was really busy. Nothing much happened to him the rest of the day, but when he woke up the next morning, his window was open. He’d definitely remembered shutting it the night before, so he was super freaked out, grabbed his gun, and started going through the apartment. He didn’t see anyone, but did clearly see that a lot of his things were looked through: papers were askew, books and newspapers ruffled through, drawers slightly ajar. He told me later that he considered calling one of us, but then decided against it. After a minute, he saw something that got his attention: a picture that was taken of him while he was out with the rest of us. It was a picture from behind, mostly of him and Bella.

Day desperately needed to cool off, so he walked back to the bodega he was at the day before for a breakfast sandwich. As the cashier was ringing him up, he told Day, “Oh, speak of the devil. Someone was just asking about you.” Day looked around quickly but didn’t see anybody, so he asked, “Who?” “Oh, some tall guy came through, said he saw you come in the other day and said he’d seen you around a few places, asked if you were a regular here,” the kid said. “What’d he look like?” Day asked. “Uh, tall, kind of pale – no, pale’s not right-”

At this point, Day lost all pretense of patience, so he reached across the counter, grabbed the kid by the scruff of the neck and dragged him over the counter, saying, “I’m not asking you to describe a Mr. Potato Head, I’m asking you to describe him! What. Did. He. Look. Like?!” The kid was practically in tears and stammered out a description and Day let him go. The kid rang Day out as fast as he could, told him the guy was heading in the direction of Broadway, then ducked behind the counter to wet himself in privacy.

Day started stalking toward Broadway, eating his sandwich and steaming. He was looking around everywhere, trying to figure out where this tall guy in a knit hat and Mets jacket (that’s how you know he’s evil) might be hiding. He ended up passing a big collection of trash bins near one of the side streets and was so distracted looking down the nearby alley that he didn’t even see the guy come up behind him. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to look. The guy was tall, ashen, with a pig-like nose and one hand in his jacket pocket.

The dude told Day, “If you don’t want to see what I have in this pocket, and trust me, you don’t, we’re going to take a walk.” Day snapped back, “If your face is any indication, I don’t want to see anything you got under those clothes.” He steered day into the alley and told him they were going somewhere Day wouldn’t be a problem. “Somehow I don’t think you mean Tahiti,” Day said. “I could put a sign on it that says Tahiti if you’d like,” the man retorted. “Don’t do me any favors, bitch,” Day said. As he was saying this, he heard a burst of air come from his side and felt something really sharp hit his upper arm. He looked down and saw a dart and then his vision began to swim. The last thing he saw before passing out was the guy pulling a pair of handcuffs out of his jacket, wearing a thick leather glove as he did so.

So that takes care of one bit of backstory. But before I get into how we rescued Day, I think it’s only fair to share with you what happened on Yova’s date, which I also had to learn about secondhand. She’d scouted the bistro out a few days in advance and was already there when Marigold came running up, completely out of breath and apologizing for missing her bus. Now, Yova says she spotted the three of us, but decided to let it slide so as to not make a scene (personally, I think she’s saving face, but we’ll give this to her, we’ll give it to her).

After getting their drink orders in (Marigold, it turns out, is a Pepsi girl), they started having small talk, with Marigold super excited about what we learned about the Shepherd of Lonely Roads. She was talking a mile a minute about research and how thrilling it was, with Yova being Cool Hand Luke, letting her run her yap. After Marigold finished pumping Yova for information about the Shepherd, Yova turned the conversation back to Marigold, asking how long she’d been in the Autumn Court (two years), how she felt about the Court (she was the newest recruit prior to me and didn’t really care to get involved with the running of the Court) and the current relations of the Courts (she gave an analogy that Summer and Winter built the house, but Autumn and Spring were the ones keeping the walls up and safe). It was around this time that Yova noticed we were gone.

After they ate their meals, Yova suggested they grab some coffee at a nearby coffeeshop and take a walk around the neighborhood, which Marigold was entirely up for. Yova paid the bill and offered Marigold an arm, escorting her out of the restaurant. The line at the coffeeshop was a bit lengthy, but it allowed them more chances to be schmoopy with each other. Yova learned that once Marigold started talking, she could talk for a very, very long time.

So that’ll get you caught up to where my last chapter ended. As soon as Pam, Bella, and I finished staring in horror at the picture of Day and I got my senses back, I grabbed the photo and started entering the coordinates into Google Maps. What popped up was an old auto parts store a few towns over from Albany (a suburb of a suburb) that was closed permanently. The building, however, was still standing. I told Bella and Pam this and Bella grimly said there wasn’t much difference in her being there instead of Day. I think she was envisioning that she’d have to offer herself up in exchange for Day. I told her, “Look, after what we went through in Arcadia, I don’t want any of us being stuck somewhere again and forced to do anything. I don’t – I can’t let that happen. We’re going to get him out of there without having to trade anybody.”

Pam suggested at this point that we go get Yova. Her date had been over for hours now, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t busy. We looked up her schedule on her website and saw that she was doing accompanist work for a local high school production of My Fair Lady. We all grabbed our bags, I gave Paisley a couple crickets, and we made our way over. When we got in the auditorium just before intermission, I saw Yova with the tightest smile I’ve ever seen on her face. I couldn’t blame her: all the kids sounded like they’d been taking accent classes from Dick van Dyke in Mary Poppins.

At intermission, she came to join us and was clearly about to start a soliloquy, but I handed her the photo of Day to cut that off at the pass. As soon as she saw it, she got a look of pure murder on her face. She excused herself to talk with the production manager and inform him that a family emergency had come up and we all left the school. Yova was about to light up a cigarette when Pam cleared her throat and pointed to the “No Tobacco Products Within 250 Feet of School Grounds” sign. Yova, clearly bested by the full force of the Parent-Teacher Association, slunk away in shame.

When we got back to her crappy pickup and all piled in, we explained the situation. She said that we would need to speak with someone from the Summer Court, since one of their pledged courtiers was missing. We hotfooted it back over to my apartment and Yova reluctantly took out her phone to call Dania Sprint. Dania was the Runnerswift who was giving her dirty looks at the B&B, the one in desperate need of an “Oh, honey.” Unfortunately, she’s more or less the secretary of the Summer Court, so if anything needed to be relayed, she was the one to relay it.

Yova called Dania and explained the situation to her. Dania was about as sympathetic as a rabid musk ox and put her on hold. I put Paisley on Yova’s lap to get her to quell her murderous rage. After a few minutes of teeth-gritting hold, Yova finally got Cahir the Unyielding on the line. For once, he was all business as Yova explained the situation to him. He asked her for the address of where Day was being held and promised to send in some backup in case things went south. He told us that the recruits were only going to come in if things went really bad: he wasn’t going to risk any of their lives. He did tell us, “I don’t care what you have to do to get him out, just get him out.” He also insisted that if we learned anything else, we should call back and he would personally be the one manning the phone. After this conversation ended, I retrieved Paisley, Yova got her brass knuckles, and we all headed out.

While we were doing this, Day was finishing up a thoroughly miserable 48 hours as his body worked to purge itself of whatever drug had been pumped into him. His wrists were burning with a worse pain than anything he’d ever felt before and he couldn’t stay asleep. He was groggy and in pain, but at least he was awake. He realized he was in a small broom closet with a light flickering overhead. He tried kicking the door a few times and the same ashen-skinned man opened it, smoking a cigarette and looking like he’d rather be anywhere other than where he was.

“Oh, thank God, I’ve been calling the front desk for hours. This room simply won’t do,” he snarked. “Suck it up, my God, you’re so loud!” the pig-nosed guy griped. He told Day that he expected his friends to show up and do something stupid, but that he’d be able to go before too long. Day scoffed that we didn’t think he’s our friend (that one actually hurt when he told me it later). He asked for a cigarette and the other guy shrugged, put it in his mouth, and lit it. As soon as he did, Day took a puff and shot it out at the guy’s eye, nailing his eyelid. The guy freaked out, slammed the door, and stomped off.

Around this time, the rest of us pulled up in front of the auto parts store. It was a run-down area and we were feeling dangerously isolated. Bella was really quiet the whole time over and I wanted to check in with her and make sure she was doing all right. She shrugged in response and Yova told Bella that we weren’t going to let anybody take her. Bella was blaming herself, saying that she should have checked in with Day earlier than she did. It took most of us to get her to pull herself out of her funk, telling her that we all could have checked in with Day, but that he’d been super busy and none of us thought it was strange we didn’t hear from him for a couple of days. Bella squared her shoulders and grabbed a rock from the parking lot, getting ready to let it fly.

Yova decided to activate a contract that would prevent violence from taking place. And in entirely Yova style, she launched into Lady Hotspur’s speech from Henry IV. Day couldn’t hear any of that from inside, but he did hear his captor saying, “Hey, looks like you have friends after all, asshole!” Yova was about halfway through her monologue when the door cracked open and the ashen man leaned against the doorframe, saying, “So, uh, you certainly know how to make an entrance. Not sure I get the Shakespeare, but…” and he shrugged. Yova asked him to return Day and he said, “You want your friend back, you’re gonna have to come inside and talk terms.” They started bickering about where they were going to discuss the details and eventually came to a compromise of us standing outside and him standing inside. At this point, Day managed to kick the door open and we were able to see him from outside.

Yova introduced herself and asked the ashen man’s name, which turned out to be Hutch. She asked why his group was convinced Bella was a loyalist and Hutch said he couldn’t say, as it wasn’t his call, but that he knew some of his superiors had been cracking down as of late on fae elements in the area. They’d grabbed a few fetches and got some information, which is when the order to grab Bella went out. Yova tried to sweet-talk him and ask him about how they could come to an accord. He didn’t seem inclined to do any such thing, saying that if he let Day go and things went south, it would be his ass on the line. Bella got angry and asked him if he wanted to see the cut string on her neck. “I made sure I got myself cut before I even left out of that place, so whoever your little fetch is, they’re giving you wrong information and it’s putting innocent people at risk of getting hurt because of that,” she told him.

Hutch looked down at Bella’s neck and he saw the frayed thread. He got a – maybe guilty? – look on his face after that and said he understood what she was saying. He steadied himself and said, “I’m sorry if someone made the wrong call, but I still have to report back. So here’s what I think we can do, is if you guys can actually bring me the person responsible, if you guys can find who actually might be – I mean, if anybody in this freehold is loyal to those fuckwads back in Arcadia, if you can bring them to me, I’ll consider that as good a proof of innocence as anything. Even better if you can find out who’s trying to put the blame on you guys specifically.”

Bella preempted Pam in asking for his manager’s number. He told us there was a drop box where we could leave a message with any comments or complaints. I think he actually was serious.

Eventually, we managed to convince Hutch that turning Day over to us was in his best interest, since Day was the best investigator that we had. He went over and told Day that he was going to let him loose and that Day was going to have to walk over to us right away. As soon as the iron manacles were off, Day said he felt almost euphoric, like he wanted to cry from relief. As he left, he faked a punch at Hutch before he rejoined us outside. Hutch gave us one other clue before he slammed the door, saying that there was a beer garden in Schenectady where they learned some stuff. It was as good a place to start as any, so we decided that should be our next stop the following day.

Yova pulled out a cigarette and lit one for Day as well. He was looking grouchy and told us that we could let him have it for getting grabbed. Bella just glomped onto him and hugged him tightly, muttering something about being glad he was okay. He was completely taken aback by that and seemed to think we were just going to let him sit there. Bella said that she needed somebody to go to Hooters with and eat chicken wings (Yova and I both turned a little green at that, but for different reasons) and Yova said she needed Day to help her get stuff upstairs (so that’s her secret…). Day looked maybe a little uncomfortable at all the attention and said that he wasn’t used to having people care about him. “Well, you’re family now,” Pam said, and he looked sheepish.

Yova called Cahir and told him about the success of our mission. He was impressed and said, “You know, Miss Yova, I know you haven’t pledged loyalty to any particular Court yet, but given your extensive… talents, I think there would be quite a good place for you in Summer.” Yova surprised us all when she told him that she had been considering this very thing and unofficially pledged her loyalty to Summer over the phone. Cahir asked to talk to Day, asked if Day was okay, and told him it was good to have him back.

Now at this point, I actually wasn’t around. When Yova made her phone call, I slipped away and made my way down to the nearby 7-Eleven, in search of something in particular. When I got inside, I saw that the clerk who was working the graveyard shift was hiiiiiigh out of her mind. She looked at me and said, “Hey… you like donuts?” “I do like donuts!” I told her. “Great. We got some Krispy Kremes, here you go,” she said, handing me a couple boxes from behind the counter. I promised to tell her manager that she deserved a raise and she resumed watching a daddy long legs build a web on the wall. I got back to the group, donuts in tow, and made sure Day got the custard ones. I remembered him saying in Arcadia that they were his favorite.

And then Pam suggested we all get something to eat, so we made our way to Denny’s.

That’s a pretty good spot to stop it for here, so when next we get back, I’ll take you through our adventure at the beer garden and what we learned there. Until then, may all your high school drama students actually get in the ballpark of being on key.

[studygreens]

🌲🌿 Being A Green Student 🌿🌲

Hello my studious friends! I’ve decided I’d (finally) make the green student guide that I’ve been promising forever. Here you’ll find a handy list of ways you can stay environmentally conscious while hitting the books. Feel free to pick a choose what suggestions work best for you and your lifestyle. Again, these are purely suggestions, but I really recommend adopting as many as you can. All of us, especially those in the traditionally “western” nations with outrageous carbon footprints (aka America and many parts of Europe), need to start thinking about how we impact our planet in our daily lives. It’s the only one we have. At first, these suggestions may seem excessive or strange, but I promise, after a week or two, they’ll feel like second nature. So, I hope you take up these tips, and enjoy my guide to be a greener student!

Disclaimer: I understand that being green can be expensive, with little reward besides a cleaner lifestyle and conscious. I’m a financially impaired student, just like many of you. I’m not one to go around attacking people for not trying to be sustainable, just passing along tips I’ve picked up. That said, most of these tips can be modified, with a dash of creativity, to fit your monetary needs. And, obviously, I’m not saying that if you’re struggling to feed yourself you should go drop all your money on recycled notebooks, because that would be ridiculous.

Open the Read More to, well, read more!

Supplies

Paper and Notebooks

Buy paper and notebooks made of post-consumer recycled material instead of 100% new materials. You’ll see recycling pop up a lot throughout this post, because helps cut down on the amount of waste going into landfills and the carbon emissions from producing new items. Yes, recycled items tend to be more expensive, but hover around the same price as the nicely decorated notebooks. Consider buying a recycled notebook and doing one of the many DIYs out there to spruce it up yourself.

When you’re done with a sticky note, a notebook, or the school year just ended and your about to have a bonfire with all the homework you hated, recycle it instead of throwing it in the trash. You’d be surprised how much paper you use that just ends up sitting in a landfill for hundreds of years.

Consider going digital! Classes not heavy in numbers or formulas, like history or languages, are easiest for digital notes. Even if it’s just for one or two classes, you can save a ton of paper.

You’ll probably catch on that most of my tips involve reducing your consumption of material things. This is so so important, not only for your environment, but for you mental health. Not having so many things around you all the time can clear your mind (a clean space = a clean mind), and you’ll break or stop from developing bad habits like retail therapy or devaluing your dollar and the things you’re buying.

Pens, Markers, Highlighters, etc.

This tip might hit close to home for some of you, but hear me out. You don’t need so many pens and markers. The plastic and ink those pens use adds up in landfills very quickly. Making the material involves loads of ugly pollutants and are mostly made in countries without stringent environmental regulations. They pollute rivers and oceans that animals and people depend on. How many of those nice Muji or Pilot Juice pens do you actually use on a daily basis? Chances are, you could get by just fine with one set of your favorite colored pens and markers and few of your best black/blue pens. 

I’m not saying to throw out recycle the one you don’t like or use (although donating them can clear up some clutter), but once you finish a set of the pens you don’t like, don’t buy them again. And once you finish any pen, recycle it!

Don’t buy anything ONLY because they’re popular on Tumblr or within the studyblr community. Muji pens, Mildliners, Stabio, Staedler… these brands are all pretty darn expensive and there is a chance you won’t even like them. Go to a store and see if you can test them out or borrow from a friend to see if you like them before buying.

Sticky Notes, Washi Tapes, etc.

I’ll be honest, this is my biggest weakness. I love sticky notes so much. And washi makes everything look so freaking cute, and putting a nice picture in my planner makes me really happy. And, like everything, there are ways to make them sustainable.

Post-consumer everything!

Recycle everything! Every finished post-it note, every unneeded scrap of washi. 

Instead of printing out pictures from Tumblr or the web, consider using clippings from magazines you find interesting, like National Geographic, for example, or pamphlets you get in the mail. This can really cut down on the amount of paper you’re printing on and the ink you use (which can save you some money, too). Using magazine clippings is my favorite way to get cute pictures, because I get to read cool articles and re-purpose an item I’d buy anyways and would otherwise go into the waste stream.

Other Supplies

Look for tape dispensers, staplers, pencil cases, and any other supplies that are made from post-consumer materials. Invest in high-quality reusable items that you use often, like your stapler, tape dispenser, hole punch, and paper clips. These can be kept and used to years and years. My mom still has a tape dispenser with a weighted base she bought more than twenty years ago. Investing in high-quality products not only saves you the pain and money of buying cheaply made products over and over, but they cut down on your personal waste stream.

Studying and Planning

For the act of studying itself, try to use as little paper as possible. If you mess up and feel the urge to discard the entire paper, use correction tape to block it out, or better yet, just cross it out with your pen. A few mistakes in your notes won’t distract from how aesthetic they are, and that isn’t even the main goal. An ugly crossed out word will not make rest of the information less valuable. If you mess up, just save your paper, cross it out, and move on.

Try out a digital flashcard creator, like Quizlet, instead of using a hundred paper flashcards for one test. You won’t have to recycle all those cards at the end of the year and they’ll be saved digitally instead of taking up all that space in your closet or desk drawers.

Again, go digital for your notes or some of your study materials, like study guides or summaries.

Instead of using a printable for daily planning every single day, invest in a planner. This will save you money in the long run because you’re not wasting your copy paper or printer ink. Only use printables with specialized uses, like essay planning or exam prep.

General Lifestyle Tips

Carry a reusable water bottle with you everywhere. I mean, literally everywhere. This will save you so much money and is one of the biggest sources of pollution and waste.

Consider a more sustainable diet, aka consuming less animal products. This isn’t feasible for everyone for many reasons (health, money, etc.), but I guarantee if you think hard enough, you can come up with easy ways to substitute your meat and dairy products. I’m a diehard meat lover, but I’ve been a vegetarian for over a year with very little slip ups. Even just substituting one veggie burger for a beef burger can save hundreds of tons of carbon dioxide and methane from polluting the air.

To bounce off the last point, eat more vegetables. Good for your health, good for the planet.

Try walking, taking public transportation, or carpooling when possible.

Go to your local secondhand shop when looking for new clothes or the like. They likely won’t have the most trendy pieces, but you’ll be surprised by what you can find. Secondhand anything, rather than new, is better anyways.

Bring your coffee (no k-cups!) from home. This is honestly the hardest part of a sustainable life style for me, mostly because of the convenience of my campus having such cheap coffee (only $1.50 for 12oz.? come on). But it still costs me money I don’t have to spend, and many (many) paper cups and lids being recycled. There is so much waste surrounding coffee, from plant to brew, and so easy to make a dent in its impact. As far as taste goes, you can easily make your own coffee taste just as great (likely, better) than Starbucks with some flavored creamer or syrup.

Similarly, bring your lunch from home. Not only will it likely be cheaper, but it can easily be healthier and have more than your standard restaurant lunch. Use glass or plastic containers instead of single-use baggies and bring your metal silverware from home.

Like I touched on before, reduce your consumption! Obviously, if you want something really bad, buy it. But before you do, reflect on why you want it. Is it purely for aesthetics or to fit in? Or will it legitimately help your studies?

Invest in high-quality reusable items that you use often, like your stapler, tape dispenser, hole punch, and paper clips. These can be kept and used to years and years. My mom still has a tape dispenser with a weighted base she bought more than twenty years ago. Investing in high-quality products not only saves you the pain and money of buying cheaply made products over and over, but they cut down on your personal waste stream.

🌟 Thank you for reading, and I wish you all a productive and sustainable day! 🌟

[dippedanddripped]

I was born in 1995. If you ask some, I am a member of Generation Z. Others will say that I am more of a millennial. No wonder I’ve always felt like I straddled the line between the two. While technically I’m a member of Gen Z, before the time when “generational experts” and marketing firms started targeting my cohort, I played the part of a millennial, doing all the things that those same marketers labeled as being peak millennial behavior. This means: I got my fashion tips from Tumblr, started a style blog on Blogspot, and dressed like every other person my age in middle school (first, at Abercrombie; then, Urban Outfitters and Free People). It wasn’t until college that I even thought to try thrift shopping. Once I had, it was years before I learned the ins and outs of the trade — which days my local Goodwill locations got new stock, what’s salvageable and what’s not, and how much is too much to spend on a pair of vintage Levi’s. Thrifting now feels like one of the most Gen Z things I do, and it’s no wonder: For Gen Z, thrifting isn’t just a way to shop — it’s a lifestyle.

Olivia McCafferty-Cable,17, from Santa Barbara, California, has been thrifting regularly since she was 13. “Thrifting allowed me to find things at very affordable prices that no one else I knew had,” she tells Refinery29. “I like standing out with my clothes, especially at school, because I tend to be a very quiet person, and [thrifting] was a way for me to express myself and push myself outside of my comfort zone.” Hannah Valentine, a 19-year-old from St. Louis, Missouri, doesn’t even remember her first thrifting experience. “Thrifting has been a constant in my life for years,” she says. “I’ll never stop loving the rush of adrenaline that I get when I enter a thrift store not knowing what I’m going to find that day.” While Valentine fell for thrift shopping because of the search aspect, over time, it turned into something else entirely. “Now, I thrift because I want to help save clothing from being thrown away, while also providing an easy and accessible way for people to shop secondhand so that they’re not instead shopping on fast fashion websites,” Valentine says. The way she does the latter is through Depop, an online marketplace where many members of Gen Z have set up shop. (According to The Wall Street Journal, of Depop’s 15 million users in 2019, 90% were under the age of 26.) Valentine’s Depop page is scattered with floral maxi dresses, ‘90s sportswear à la Princess Diana, and retro pins from Steak & Shake. She offers sizes up to 3X and uses her platform on the app to advocate for people with disabilities. “I think of my job as a second-hand clothing rehoming service,” she says.

Another seller on Depop, 23-year-old Monique Miu Masuko, started her thrifting journey in middle school. Ever since her mom told her when she was a kid that buying secondhand was the easiest and most affordable way to stay on-trend, Masuko hasn’t stopped thrifting. Like so many others before her, took her favorite pastime and built a career out of it. Now her Depop shop has 2.8k followers. “[Thrifting] is more affordable, accessible, and eco-friendly — all three of which go hand in hand with sustaining Gen Z’s future,” she says.According to Deloitte, Gen Z’s interest in thrifting could have something to do with having entered adolescence during the recession of 2007 to 2009, when the oldest members of Gen Z were between 12 and 14 years old. Many grew up experiencing financial hardship, and so it makes perfect sense that they’d be searching out economically friendly ways of staying in fashion. Gen Z isn’t the only demographic actively shopping secondhand right now. Fashion search engine Lyst reported that, in September, there was a 104% increase in online fashion searches for secondhand-related keywords like “vintage fashion” and “slow fashion,” the latter of which was responsible for more than seven million social impressions. But they are the largest demographic: An estimated 46% of Gen Z shopped secondhand in 2019, according to Medium, compared to 37% of millennials and just 18% of Gen X. Since Gen Z has matured into its spending power, the resale market has grown significantly. In fact, it’s grown 21 times faster than traditional retail over the past three years to be worth $24 billion in 2019. It makes sense. Unlike millennials, who are said to “seek validation through purchases,” members of Gen Z are obsessed with being different from their peers. Ask the question of “why thrift?” for instance, and it will result in a wide variety of answers. (I’d know, I talked to over 30 of them.)

Some listed being able to look unique and build a more personalized sense of style as one of the reasons for thrifting. Tori López, 24, from Brooklyn, New York, says she found an “inexplicable sense of empowerment and independence” in wearing pieces that felt made for her, even if they were previously owned by someone else. “Wearing ‘one-of-a-kind’ clothing makes me feel special; it makes me feel unique; it makes me feel happy — and if that outfit costs you $30, all the better.” Elena Dunn-Barcelona, a 24-year-old from Harlem, fell in love with thrifting during her senior year of high school because it allowed her to compete with her classmates style-wise “for an eighth of the price,” she says. “I was one of a handful of Black kids at a predominantly white boarding school,” she tells Refinery29. According to Dunn-Barcelona, everyone there wore the same things from the same brands (“Sperrys, J.Crew, Free People, Vineyard Vines, etc.”), none of which her parents were willing to buy for her: “There was no way they were going to hand me $60-plus for a top that would be out of style before the school year was over.” Thrifting made it possible for Dunn-Barcelona to build confidence in her style without overspending. It also allowed her to find options that fit when off-the-rack styles wouldn’t because of her scoliosis. “I have a shortened torso, and stand at only 4 feet and 4 inches, which makes shopping for clothing a constant struggle for me. But after a while, when I’d find cute things that didn’t fit me, I realized that someone else might love them, so I turned it into a business,” she says. Her Depop shop, Mighty Thrift, sells clothing in sizes 0 to 5X and has over 5k followers. By August 2021, she says thrifting will be her sole way of supporting herself.

There is also the matter of the climate crisis looming, which many listed as a major motivation for thrifting. “Thrifting taught me that I can positively impact this world in more ways than one,” Lopez says. “It’s granted me an entryway into a new way of living that feels more productive and purposeful.” She explains that what started as a mode of expression has since catalyzed a more intentional lifestyle, where, across categories, she’s more considerate about her purchases: “Now that I’m older, I find myself frequenting more local businesses, paying attention to companies’ stances on current political issues, and buying quality over quantity.” During the lockdown, many young people took to TikTok for entertainment. In the process they also learned about the damaging effects that fashion — and other powerful industries — has on the environment. Of TikTok’s 800 million worldwide users, 60% are members of Gen Z, many of whom are using their fast-growing platforms to promote thrifting as an alternative to fast fashion and an easy way to minimize waste. The numbers don’t lie: #ThriftStore has 92.7 million views on the app, while #Secondhand has 90.8 million views. “So much of our clothes get worn a couple of times, then head to the landfill, which is really gross considering how many resources go into producing clothes,” says 24-year-old Lily Fulop, the author of Wear, Repair, Repurpose: A Maker's Guide to Mending and Upcycling Clothes and a designer at Refinery29. “We need to produce less clothing, and make use of the clothes that are already in existence,” she says. One of the easiest and most affordable ways to do that is by thrifting: “It saves water, reduces microplastics and petroleum use, cuts down on pollution from pesticides, dye, and shipping... the list goes on.” 

According to Emily Reyes, a 21-year-old living in New York City, Gen Z YouTube influencers like Emma Chamberlain are in large part responsible for showing young people that, unlike what their older family members or friends would have them believe, fast fashion isn’t the only way to find on-trend clothing at an affordable price. The 19-year-old YouTube celebrity — who has 9.6 million subscribers on YouTube and 8.3 million followers on TikTok — is known for frequenting Goodwill. Chamberlain’s thrift hauls, videos in which she goes through the items she recently thrifted and styles them on herself, are among her most popular videos on both platforms. Thrifting feels emblematic of the way that Gen Z prefers to stray from the beaten path — a path beaten to death by millennials, Gen X, and Baby Boomers, that doesn’t even seem to be going anywhere anymore. They want to be independent. They want to save the planet. They also want to save money — and make money. And they want to do it all in a cute outfit, probably one that costs less than $10. Thrifting makes all of that possible. Now that I know this, I look forward to making up for lost time.It's a cliché, but this year was supposed to be our year — full of independence, opportunity, or at least a few weekend afternoons spent with more than 10 friends with fewer than six feet between us. But with COVID-necessary social distancing, a shitty job market, and closed campuses, 2020 hasn't given us much to work with. Past generations have had to deal with a recession, social upheaval, and changing norms: We've had to deal with all of it at once.So, what now? What do we do with our careers, our relationships, and our lives? How do we move forward when we're still stuck in our high school bedrooms? These stories are for us — filled with the resources, blueprints, and people who are finding ways to turn all this garbage into something like lemonade.

[randylavalley]

HOW TO SEE TORONTO’S TOP ATTRACTIONS IN 48 HOURS

Toronto's been my home base for the last 4 years. And also while I may not have stepped foot in the city before relocating there in September 2013, I have actually definitely taken my role as a full time tourist pretty seriously in Canada's amusement capitol! Throughout my time in Toronto, I've uncovered a few secret bars, discovered some impressive gluten-free & vegan eats, and also learned the streets inside and out.

Over the past couple of weeks, I've put together a 48-hour itinerary for every one of Toronto's top tourist attractions for first-timers. After showing around my city to a couple of out-of-town visitors, I have my tour guide down pat and I thought I would certainly challenge myself to make this itinerary extremely reliable to maximize your time in Toronto!

I've additionally consisted of some tips concerning Toronto transit passes, essential courtesies as well as various other general Toronto ideas at the end of this post to make your trip a little bit simpler. And there are also some recommendations for some all-day tasks in case you require to plan for a third day in the 6ix.

So without more so long, below's just how you can see Toronto's leading tourist attractions in two days!

A 48-Hour Overview to Toronto's Leading Tourist attractions

Day 1

Starving Musician

Address: 810 University Street

Hours: 9 am-- 6 pm daily

Start your early morning at one of Toronto's brunch staples: Starving Artist. Known for its waffles, you can have a pleasant or savoury breakfast to load you up for your day ahead. My individual favourite is the Starving 4 Waffles covered with strawberries. The gluten-free as well as vegan waffles have a slight banana preference from the banana in the batter, so pleasant garnishes make the ideal pairing! It features fruit as well as your choice of salad or maple-baked beans.

There are also options like chicken and also waffles, or eggs benedict waffles for your omnivorous buddies!

Keep in mind: This is a cash-only facility. $20 is sufficient to cover a solitary morning meal with a coffee. They also have an ATM on website, in case you're like me and forget these points all the time.

Ossington Laneway

Instructions: Starving Artist to Ossington Laneway

Walk time: About 15 minutes

After a filling up breakfast, stroll down one of Toronto's the majority of famous roads- Ossington Method. Lined with attractive store fronts, one-of-a-kind breweries and also regional cafe, the appeal of this method will capture your heart!

Continue down Ossington up until you're virtually at Queen Road. Transform right, and also become the alley between Queen and also Humbert Streets. This is one of Toronto's graffiti treasures. As opposed to dealing with tags with white paint, Toronto police collaborated with the city of Toronto to create attractive street art along the Ossington Laneway! Since then, it's come to be the very best spot to see promising street musicians in Toronto!

Queen Street West

After scoping out Ossington Laneway as well as breaking some pictures, proceed East along Queen Road West. With a lot of special secondhand as well as document shops, delicious restaurants, the beautiful Trinity Bellwoods Park, and enjoyable road art, it's the best method to connect with the neighborhood Toronto scene. A few of my favorite shops are The Paper Area (straight throughout from Trinity Bellwoods park), Mother Loves Vintage, Black Market, as well as Anthropologie (not a Toronto business, however this particular area is stunning)!

Graffiti Street

Instructions: Ossington Laneway to Graffiti Street

Stroll time: About 20 minutes

As you proceed roaming down Queen Street West, take a mild detour at Portland Street (at the Loblaws) to Hurry Lane, the street way running beside Queen Street. The whole alleyway is lined with some of the city's finest graffiti! And it's so iconic to Toronto thanks to Canadian comic Rick Mercer who would certainly film his political tirades in these alleys.

Khao San Road

Address: 11 Charlotte Road (instructions from Graffiti Street right here).

Hours: Monday- Saturday 11:30 -2:30 pm and 5-10 pm; Sunday 5-10 pm.

As soon as you have your fill of Instagram-worthy images from Graffiti Street, make your means over to Khao San Roadway for some scrumptious gluten-free and vegan Thai food! Unlike a lot of Thai dining establishments, who have shrimp paste in many things, Khao San Road has actually committed gluten-free as well as vegan menus with a lot of choices.

I highly suggest their gluten-free and also vegan fresh rolls as a starter. They're packed with carrot, lettuce, thai basil, mint, and fresh baked peanuts covered in rice paper, as well as a chilli tamarind dipping sauce! They likewise have a broad variety of curries, noodle as well as signature meals for mains. I went with the vegan green curry (gaeng kaew wan) when I went and I was not disappointed.

If you're fatigued of flavor, don't worry- you can choose anywhere between non-spice (0) and melt your challenge (11 ).

City Hall.

Instructions: Khao San Road to Town Hall.

Walk time: Little under 20 mins.

After refuelling with some tasty Thai food, make your way back approximately Queen Street West and also continue strolling eastern up until you struck the row of food vendors aligned beyond Nathan Phillips Square, also called the balcony beyond Toronto's Town hall!

During the summer months, the structure has a gorgeous water feature before the iconic multicoloured Toronto indication. And also once the city ices up over in cold weather, you can rent skates for $10 simply outside the rink! And in case you're questioning what the attractive structure next door is, it's Toronto's old city hall!

Eaton Centre.

Instructions: Town Hall to Eaton Centre.

Stroll time: 4 mins.

Found at the crossways of Queen Street West and also the longest street in The United States and Canada, Yonge Road, the Eaton Centre is Toronto's only downtown shopping mall. If you remain in Toronto throughout the ramp up to the holidays, it's most definitely worth appearing even just to see the mall's decorations!

Fun fact: The Eaton Centre was named after Eaton's department store, which was once Canada's largest outlet store. The chain store and also its catalogue played such an essential function in Canadian background, that it's memory lives on in among Canada's most well well-known children's tales: The Hockey Coat by Roch Provider.

Yonge-Dundas Square.

As soon as you walk through the Eaton Centre, you can exit on the main degree into Yonge-Dundas Square. Called Toronto's "Times Square," the square holds many concerts, demonstrations, buskers as well as-- naturally-- signboards. While it might not be as huge as Times Square, it's most definitely worth the stop off.

Kensington Market.

Directions: Yonge-Dundas Square to Kensington Market.

Stroll time: About 20 minutes.

Continue West along Dundas Road up until you strike Spadina Opportunity and also you'll strike Kensington Market! Situated in the heart of Chinatown, this hip area is recognized for its fusion food, street art, buskers, cheap consumes, pre-owned clothing stores, and funky bars!

Insect Dining establishment.

Instructions: Kensington Market to Grasshopper.

Walk time: Regarding 6 minutes.

Located nearby from the Northern idea of Kensington Market, Insect Dining establishment is a gluten-free as well as vegan foodie's desire! Start with a scrumptious offering of their sesame french fries, which are deep fried in sesame oil. For a primary, I extremely advise both the miso veggie dish as well as the mushroom 'n rice bowl. They're both unbelievable filling therefore delicious that I can never choose in between the two! (Luckily, my boyfriend wants to get both so we can go halfsies!) And also if you're still feeling peckish after dinner, I highly advise their cashew cookie! It's the excellent amount of wonderful to round off your meal!

Cold Tea.

After a tasty supper at Insect, head back right into Kensington Market to among Toronto's much-loved secret bars! This location is definitely off the visitor radar, as many Torontonians don't also understand where it is! Head down the hallway to the right of Kensington Shopping mall, until you get to the blinking traffic signal. During the week there's no line, so it looks a bit sketchy, but trust me it deserves it! (I won't spoil the shock when you initially stroll within, but it'll be the strangest bar experience you'll have in Toronto!).

Day 2.

Hibiscus.

Address: 238 Augusta Avenue.

Hours: Tuesday-Friday 11:30 -6 pm; Weekend break 11:30 -9 pm; Closed Mondays.

Day 2 starts off once more in Kensington Market at one of my preferred gluten-free and also vegan brunch places in the city! With plenty of vegan alternatives, Hibiscus is a wonderful location to obtain a filling breakfast. I highly suggest obtaining among their cold matchas to go along with their vegan mozzarella, tomato, basil, spinach as well as mushroom buckwheat crepe that comes topped with zucchini and also avocado. It's virtually unsubstantiated that these large crepes are vegan as well as gluten-free! And also if you're not in the state of mind for crepes, their quinoa salad and also everyday soup are always a hit!

CN Tower.

Directions: Hibiscus to CN Tower.

Hrs: 9 am-- 10:30 pm.

Admission: $36 per grownup.

After a filling up breakfast, make your way over to among Toronto's the majority of legendary landmarks-- the CN Tower. Integrated in 1973, the CN Tower held the title of the tallest freestanding framework worldwide for 31 years. Standing at 553 metres tall (1,812 feet or 147 storeys), you can see the entire Greater Toronto Location and also have an outstanding sight of the Billy Diocesan Airport out on Toronto Island. If you're lucky, you can see part of a Blue Jay's game over at the Rogers Centre! At the lower observation deck, you can walk the CN Tower as well as snap selfies on the glass floor. (If you're brave, do a little jump on the glass flooring!) There's likewise the choice to go to their higher observation deck or, for adventurers, you can stroll along the edge of the tower for an additional expense.

Union Station.

Directions: CN Tower to Union Station by means of COURSE.

Stroll time: 5 mins.

When you have actually had your fill of Toronto up in the sky, come back to road level as well as head over to among Toronto's earliest structures, Union Station. The station connects all significant trains in midtown Toronto including TTC (downtown Toronto transportation), the GO Train (attaching the GTA to Toronto) and also VIA Rail (Canada's nationwide rail service). The structure is currently going through indoor renovations, yet will certainly soon consist of a shopping centre inside. Nevertheless, the beaux-arts architecture of the station is certainly an amazing consider Canada's history!

Gooderham Building.

Instructions: Union Station to Gooderham Building.

Stroll time: About 10 mins.

From Union station, proceed strolling eastern along Front Street past the Hockey Hall of Fame (in case you doubted just how much Canadians enjoy hockey) towards its junction with Wellington Road. There you'll discover one more New york city City look-alike! The Gooderham Building is Toronto's Apartment Iron Structure doppelgänger! It's a cross in between Romanesque Rebirth and French Gothic style and also by far among my most preferred structures in the city!

Planta Burger.

Directions: Gooderham Structure to Planta Burger.

Walk time: Regarding 10 minutes.

After checking out several of Toronto's a lot of iconic structures, get a fast lunch break at one of the city's up as well as coming plant-based restaurant chains! Planta Burger turned up this summer after the large success of its original Planta dining establishment in Yorkville. The burger patties are nut-free as well as gluten-free, and also there is the gluten-free option of a collard green cover. Try The golden state bunless hamburger option, and also for the complete burger joint impact, add some fries as well as a strawberry mylkshake!

St. James Park.

Instructions: Planta Hamburger to St. James Park.

Walk time: About 8 minutes.

After lunch, take a soothing walk over to St. James Park. Situated alongside among Toronto's oldest churchgoers, the park uses unbelievably manicured gardens as well as a stunning gazebo. Delight in the flowers and citizens grabbing lunch before rushing back to the workplace. St. James Park is really one of the most attractive parks in the city!

St. Lawrence Market.

Instructions: St. James Park to St. Lawrence Market.

Walk time: 2 mins.

Hrs: Tuesday-Thursday 8 am-- 6 pm; Friday 8 am-- 7 pm; Saturday 5 am-- 5 pm; Closed Sunday & Monday.

Simply southern of St. James Park is just one of Toronto's many renowned markets, the St. Lawrence Market! The domed structure was first built in the city given that 1803, with a 2nd structure homes what once was Toronto Municipal government erected in 1845. It was named the world's best food market by National Geographic in 2012 for its wide variety of meats, cheeses, produce as well as plenty of neighborhood vendors offering classic Canadian souvenirs. Sadly, there aren't numerous gluten-free or vegan choices, but it's certainly worth checking out!

Ethiopiques.

Instructions: St. Lawrence Market to Ethiopiques.

Stroll time: Concerning 15 minutes.

As soon as you're done checking out the St. Lawrence Market location as well as are ready for dinner, head over to one of Toronto's best Ethiopian-owned dining establishments, Ethiopiques! As Toronto is one of the most multicultural city in the world with majority its occupants birthed outside of Canada, I would extremely advise attempting foods from various societies while you're visiting! Ethiopiques deals gluten-free injera and also a big vegan plate, which offers example sizes of its several vegan dishes. A single person plate might quickly feed two individuals if you were still a bit complete from lunch.

Distillery District.

Directions: Ethiopiques to Distillery Area.

Hrs: Monday-Wednesday 10 am-- 7 pm; Thursday- Saturday 10 am-- 8 pm; Sunday 11 am-- 6 pm.

Admission: FREE (Examine Xmas Market for admission from mid-November with December).

An excellent method to end the evening is in the romantic Distillery District. Previously called Gooderham & Worts Distillery-- who started their financially rewarding windmill service to transform grain right into flour-- the Distillery District is recognized for its uncommonly premium Victorian industrial structures. It has since ended up being house to a number of local dining establishments and stores, including Toronto-made apparel, jewellery, knick knacks as well as vintages!

Around the holidays, the Distillery Area Xmas Market pops up as well as Torontonians flood to the happy historic premises! With mulled white wine under big space heaters, a variety of handmade wooden accessories and also carollers, it's the best way to start the holiday celebrations in Toronto!

Other Tips To See Toronto's Top Tourist attractions.

Toronto City Tips.

That needs a North Celebrity when Toronto's obtained a South Post? The CN Tower shows up from almost every corner of the 6ix, and unless you have actually taken a trip south of Front Street, it's the south tip of the city. I used it practically such as a compass throughout my time in the city. Follow roadway policies when walking or on the escalator. I can not emphasize this point enough. Torontonians are busy individuals and will probably either call out "Excuse me" in an upset voice or will certainly huff as they walk you on a hectic sidewalk. If you're not in a rush, stick to the appropriate side of the escalator or pathway to appease the residents.

Transportation.

Toronto is most definitely a walking city. Throughout my four years there, it was my primary mode of transportation. Please bring comfortable walking shoes for your trip.

Public transit is $3.25 per adult. Toronto Transportation Compensation (TTC) accepts coins, Presto cards and symbols (to be eliminated soon) on all streetcars, buses and also metro stops. New TTC streetcars and all metro stops accept credit cards.

On weekend breaks, a single day pass ($ 11) covers two grownups and also up to four children under the age of 19. Throughout the week, grownups must pay individually for the solitary day pass or for a single-use pass. This is readily available for purchase only at subway terminals.

FOR THIS TRAVEL PLAN: I would certainly NOT advise getting a day pass for Day 1, as all locations are within a 20 minute stroll of one another at the most. Day 2 would certainly be an optional day pass, as there are three 'trips' that are thirty minutes or more apart by public transit (totalling to $9.75 per adult). If you feel you would certainly take public transportation a 4th time that day, you're better off with a day pass as opposed to paying the $3.25 single-use pass.

More of Toronto's Leading Tourist attractions (Day 3 possibilities).

Where are Toronto's many Instagrammable graffiti places?

Toronto also warm to manage? Cool off at these 3 Toronto beaches!

What's Toronto's favourite means to leave the city during summertime? Have A Look At Toronto Island right here!

Gluten-free & vegan in Toronto? NOT A PROBLEM. (Like actually. At all.) Below are my 7 favourite brunch spots to begin your time off right!

Make use of the warm temperatures and admire the Greater Toronto Location's charm at the Scarborough Bluffs!

Who recognized Toronto had a castle?! Venture a bit north in the city for a stunning journey via time at Casa Loma!

Seeking to knock back some neighborhood brewskies on the affordable? Check out some of Toronto's best dive bars!

Go out to Niagara Falls for the day! With 7 various methods to see one of Canada's best wonders, it's impossible to leave dissatisfied! Optional: Stop off at one of Niagara's several wineries, consisting of an ice winery- a Canadian specialized.

The post “ HOW TO SEE TORONTO’S TOP ATTRACTIONS IN 48 HOURS “ was appeared first on the full time tourist 

The IV Lounge - IV Therapy Toronto Drip Clinic

[bluepunkmon]

Snow Day

old gift fic I wrote for @p2tatsuya, In February or March maybe? Gave it a few grammar touch-ups. I’m still proud of it.

Raidou and Demi-fiend go on a date That’s pretty much it. 

Raidou woke in the darkness of his apartment to the sound of something in the kitchen. The one-room living space above the Narumi Detective Agency had definitely not had anyone else in it when he’d gone to bed, and he’d locked the door and window, with both standard and supernatural locks. His hand moved slowly toward the Kuda he kept on the bed stand, any traces of drowsiness extinguished by a rush of adrenaline.

A humanoid figure dug through his sparse pantry, barely illuminated by the light from the open window. Empty food containers lay open on the countertop. The figure turned to face him as Raidou’s fist closed around the Kuda. Angular lines on its skin glowed blue in the midnight dark, and its eyes shone yellow with reflected moonlight.

“You’re out of cereal,” Hitoshura said.

Raidou blinked at his boyfriend a few times, then carefully put the Kuda back down. He did not have the energy at the moment to ask what the Demifiend was doing here so far ahead of his planned evening arrival time the next day, or why it looked like he’d eaten what little food Raidou had left. He moved over on the bed and pulled the blanket away from his side, exposing his body to the freezing night air only for a second before the space was filled by a familiar body and warmth. Raidou drifted back to sleep with the Hitoshura’s body curled around him and arm slung over his waist.

He woke again, thankfully much later, to the sun burning his eyelids. He would have though the encounter the night before was a dream brought on by overwork and loneliness, if not for the cold air stinging his ears from the still open window, the heavy weight on his chest, hair tickling his nose, and drool on his shoulder.

Raidou wouldn’t deny the arrangement was comfortable, aside from the drool. In the two years they’d been together, Hitoshura rarely slept over, and his unnaturally high body heat was currently being cancelled out by the winter air, leaving Raidou comfortably warm instead of overheated. Still, he had other things he needed to do, the secondhand clock on the wall said it was past time he left.

Which was easier said than done. It wouldn’t be fair to say that the supernaturally strong fiend curled around him slept like the dead. Raidou had woken up the dead and undead before, and that was a cakewalk compared to waking up Hitoshura. They woke up in better tempers than him, too.

He lifted the hand not pinned by his boyfriend and poked him in the face, careful not to get too close to his mouth and very sharp, very strong teeth. Sure enough, after enough prods Hitoshura’s eyes flickered open as an inhuman growl vibrated through Raidou’s chest.

“Normally I would sleep in with you,” Raidou said, “But I still need to go shopping for dinner.”

That was enough to finally get him to roll off, though Raidou suspected Hitoshura was more motivated by the promise of food than that he was inconveniencing him. The Devil Summoner got to his feet and stretched. He waited for feeling to come back into his numb arm. Hitoshura yawned, half-lidded and unfocused.

The plan had been for Hitoshura come by later that night once dinner had already made, though that was hopeful thinking on Raidou’s part. The Demifiend’s sense of time was flimsy at best, especially with the distorted temporal nature of the Vortex World. He was luck that Hitoshura had only shown up a day early instead of a day late, or even a week late. Still, as things stood he wasn’t sure how he was going to occupy the temperamental, easily bored Demifiend until he’d bought all the ingredients make dinner.

Hitoshura yawned again and stood as well. “So when are we leaving?”

Surprise must have shown on Raidou’s face, because he continued, “What? I’m not going to leave you to do all the work by yourself. Besides, I haven’t seen the Capitol in the daylight in a while.”

More often than not Raidou shopped alone, ever since Gouto had stopped accompanying him as much about a year ago. That he would have company for the first time in a long time with him sent an unexpected but welcome comfort through him.

He thought about giving Hitoshura the object in his cloak pocket he’d been carrying with him the last few weeks on the off chance he ran into him before their date, but he decided it could wait until later. He told Hitoshura he’ll be ready to go after a shower, and after a quick shower with regrettably cold water, Raidou was dressed and ready by the door.

Raidou buttoned his heavy winter cloak around his shoulders. “Do you still know the illusion spell?” he asked Hitoshura.

The Demifiend fixed him with a prideful, dismissive look Raidou was quite familiar with by this point, that clearly said he’d insulted him by even asking such a question. His form distorted, and when the image righted itself, Hitoshura had become an average human in an average style of dress for the city. No one would have any reason to give him a second glance. Except –

“You might want new clothes for the time of year.”

The Demifiend looked down at the summer clothes of his disguise, and his form shimmered again. Now he worea dark blue winter coat and hat.

Raidou pulled out another cloak from the closet. “Are you sure you don’t want an actual coat? It’ll be colder than yesterday.”

Hitoshura stared at the coat like it’d personally offended him (and his glare without his yellow, slit pupiled eyes looked wrong). “A little cold weather won’t hurt me.” He said.

Raidou considered the task of arguing with him, and decided that they were late enough already. “Suit yourself.”

Hitoshura walked past him and waited in the hall. Raidou locked up behind them, though not before taking the extra cloak.

Even with the crowd in Karukogawa, much of the fresh snow that had fallen the night before was still undisturbed. It coated the rooftops and roadsides, and was blown occasionally into swirling eddies by the winter wind.

Raidou pulled the brim of his hat down to shield against another gust of wind as they walked past a souvenir shop. “You’ve finally grown into it.” He said.

Hitoshura shivered and pulled the extra cloak tighter around himself. “Shut up.”

There was a faster route to get what they needed, but Hitoshura was fascinated by many of the shops, and often strayed away from where Raidou was shopping for ingredients in favor of whatever new thing caught his interest. He’d take as much interest in a game store as one for clothes, and a few times he bounded forward on all fours in excitement through the snow before remembering stay upright for his disguise.

After their first trip to the market and back to the apartment to drop the supplies off, their second outing was devoted almost entirely to leisure. The only groceries Raidou had picked up, a bag of daikon radishes, hung virtually forgotten off his arm as he followed Hitoshura, who sometimes charged into a store, and other times simply observed from a distance before moving on to the next. Raidou hadn’t had the chance to shop for pleasure in a long time, and he enjoyed it almost as much as he did seeing Hitoshura so happy. He only regretted that they were confined to this part of the Capitol due to time. He resolved to show the Demifiend other, more interesting places in the future.

The only thing marring the picturesque scene was an occasional tingling on the nape of Raidou’s neck that meant he was being watched. Whenever he scanned the crowds or the rooftops, he never saw anything out of the ordinary.

The third time it happened, Raidou stopped. He again looked around, and again saw nothing out of the ordinary. Hitoshura stopped too, his side pressed up against Raidou’s to leech away warmth and shield himself from the wind. “What is it?”

Raidou shook his head and dismissed the feeling. He looked to store across the street instead, a small, warm looking shop. Soft chimes rang out above the noise of the crowd as people entered and exited the place, ringing the metal above the door.

“Just a tea shop. I haven’t been to it in a while.” He loved the tea there, but it could be expensive, and he couldn’t justify shopping there when he had tea back at office already, black tea that Narumi shared with him. Raidou still didn’t like the taste even years after drinking it, but it was serviceable, and in the constant flow of work and chores he’d pushed buying tea he actually liked to the back of his mind.

Hitoshura was standing close enough that Raidou could hear his teeth chattering. It sounded like he’d reached his threshold to the cold, but he’d wait until he was nearly literally frozen before he ever said anything about it.

Raidou unwound the scarf from his neck without a word and wrapped it loosely around Hitoshura’s. The cold stung at Raidou’s newly exposed skin. “Do you want to head back now?”

Hitoshura pulled the scarf tighter and up to cover his nose and mouth. Raidou could swear he saw the markings on Hitoshura’s face faintly bleed through his disguise, though they were faintly pink instead of blue. People flowed around them like they were stones in a river, no one giving them a second glance.

“Not yet,” Hitoshura finally said. “I need to buy something first.”

“All right. If we double back the way we came-“

“No!” the Demifiend interjected. “It’s a surprise. Just wait here, I’ll be right back.” And with that he melted back into the crowd and vanished.

Raidou felt the barest twinge of worry as he watched Hitoshura walk away, but he put it to rest. The Demifiend had been in the Capitol before; he knew how to handle himself.

And besides, Raidou thought as the nape of his neck prickled again, he had his own problem to take care of.

He stepped into a long alleyway between a dress shop and an empty storefront, and kept going until he rounded corner and was out of sight of the street.

“I hope this isn’t how you typically respond to someone tailing you.”

Gouto was balanced on a broken wood fence at eye level with Raidou.

He shook off the admonishment. “I knew it was you. Is there an emergency? Did something happen?”

Gouto shook flakes of snow from one of his paws. “Everything’s fine,” He said. “Word gets around when a powerful demon shows up out of nowhere in the middle of the night, so the higher-ups told me to check it out.”

Raidou frowned. He and Hitoshura had been over this already, with Gouto and Narumi and the Elders of the Kuzunoha clan. “Hitoshura’s not going to hurt anyone.” He said, more tersely than he’d intended.

Gouto licked his paw, demonstratively unbothered by the summoner’s rare anger. “Don’t get too worked up, It’s just a formality. I know he controls himself, and the elders will figure that out too. Eventually.” He blinked at Raidou, thoughtful. “He does it for you more than anything. If you’re alright, everyone and everything else should be too.”

Raidou pulled hat down to hide the almost involuntary smile on his face, and Goutou made a noise like he was going to hack up a hairball. “I’m glad I left before you got into the sappy phase.”

His mentor leisurely stretched out on the fence. “And now that I’ve officially made sure he won’t start blowing up buildings or whatever, I’ll leave you two be. I’ve got my own stuff to do.”

“Yes, somewhere there’s a windowsill that urgently needs to be basked in,” Raidou teased.

His mentor’s ear flickered in irritation, but his voice was still soft when he said, “See you around, kid.” Goutou leapt from the fence to the roof, and was gone from sight.

Raidou stepped out of the alley and back onto the street as Hitoshura returned. He carried two small wrapped packages, and once he caught sight of Raidou he ran up to him and shoved one of them at his chest. “The other ones for later, but you can open this one now.”

Raidou carefully peeled away the paper wrapping while the Demifiend shifted restlessly form foot to foot. It was scarf, patterned in dark blue and black, which looked both very warm and very expensive. Raidou traced his fingers gently along the fabric. “Thank you, it’s beautiful. Though, are you sure you don’t want it? I can just take my own scarf back.”

His boyfriend took a step back as his hands went possessively toward the scarf still wrapped around his neck. “No, its mine now.”

That decided that, then. Again Raidou’s thoughts returned to the object in his cloak pocket, and again he decided to give it to Hitoshura later, once they were out of the cold and hopefully fed. Raidou put on the new scarf, and they walked back home hand in hand. Hitoshura’s claws would occasionally brush the back of Raidou’s hand, but they never broke the skin.

No matter how long Raidou stared at the ingredients set out before him on the countertop, the missing ones did not spontaneously materialize. Looking around the kitchen space didn’t help either. They were in Narumi’s apartment, since he had a stove, and he stocked food as sparsely as Raidou did.

(He’d let Raidou use it for the date, after a sporadic, disorganized speech about young love and growing up, and what he specifically did not want them to do his apartment or doing in his apartment, until Raidou was so embarrassed he resolved not to ask him for anything else ever again.)

And on top of that set back, the meal was supposed to sit for two or three hours, and he hadn’t even started it yet.

In his defense, he’d gotten distracted once they’d returned to the detective agency. Raidou had barely gotten through the door before Hitoshura had shoved the other wrapped package at him and insisted he open it. The mystery gift was container of green tea, from the teashop they’d stopped in front of before. He knew from the few times he’d seen it on the shelf in the back of the store that it was the most expensive one they stocked. He thanked Hitoshura again, and there was pride that edged on smugness on his boyfriend’s face when he saw how Raidou’s expression brightened.

He’d asked to play cards after that, so Raidou had put the food away to play a few rounds of blackjack with him. They played by their own rules, and the goal more than anything was to cheat their way to victory without getting caught. He focused so much on reversing his long-time losing streak against Hitoshura that he lost track of the time.

The game finally ended with another victory for Hitoshura (and Raidou was still confused at how well the half-demon could cheat and hide cards away, considering he never wore sleeves). He’d left to make a nest by the front door after his victory with the cape and scarf Raidou had given him, as well as Raidou’s own cape. Raidou had taken the small object from his cape before giving it to him, to make sure he didn’t find it. Not even a minute later his breaths evened out and deepened with sleep.

Which left Raidou to work on dinner. He’d forgotten to buy the mushrooms, Narumi didn’t have enough bowls and dishes to separate the ingredients the way Raidou would have liked, the cabbage he’d bought was too small, and he had half as much dachi as they needed for the pot.

He thought about finding a neighbor to borrow ingredients from when he felt a familiar presence peering over his shoulder. “Is it ready yet? What is it?” Hitoshura asked.

“It’s supposed to be oden, and no, it’s not ready yet.” Raidou had never eaten it before, but the recipe was supposed to be easy enough, a hotpot put together in a broth. “ I didn’t realize were missing some of the ingredients. I thought you were taking a nap?”

Hitoshura shrugged and moved beside him to take a place at the countertop. “I’m more hungry than tired. And we can just throw what we have together, I don’t care either way.” He picked up a knife, though Raidou hadn’t told him he needed to cut anything yet. “What should I do?”

Raidou passed him a grey gelatinous block. “This is konjac. You just need to cut into it lightly– “.

He cut down before Raidou finished speaking, slicing through the block and, by the sound of it, into part of the countertop. Narumi probably wouldn’t notice.

Hitoshura growled in frustration, and Raidou leaned in to kiss his cheek, the skin rough and sand-worn. “Smaller pieces will work fine too.”

The diversion worked; Hitoshura flushed lightly in embarrassment, and his deathgrip on the knife handle loosened. Calmer atmosphere restored, Raidou went to start the water boiling. And ran into yet another problem. The stove wasn’t lighting. He could find a lighter in a drawer, maybe, or find some one who’d give him matches –

Hitoshura moved closer and held out his hand, palm up. Magic sparked to the stovetop, an Agi spell Raidou didn’t recognize, and the gas caught light.

Work went smoothly after that. They didn’t speak much, except for Raidou occasionally telling Hitoshura what to prepare next. He saw him sneak more than a few bites of pork and fish, but they had enough to compensate for it. Knowing Hitoshura’s tastes, Raidou had modified the recipe given to him and added more meat, getting twice as much beef and pork and half as many vegetables. He would have added demon meat, but he didn’t know if cooking it in a cheap pot on an apartment stove was a bad idea or not. If they ever did this again, maybe he’d try it.

Before long a warm, savory smell permeated the apartment, and it was time to leave the dish to simmer, though going by the glances Hitoshura kept giving the pot Raidou didn’t know how long he’d let it sit before he started eating. They might not have to wait too long; the flames Hitoshura had used burned and flickered faster than regular fire, almost like an illusion, and it might cook the meal faster than a normal fire would. They sat at a table by the window in the next room and soaked in the warmth.

The last time Raidou had seen Hitoshura so proud they’d defeated a particularly powerful demon.  “I knew I could cook,” The Demifiend boasted.

Raidou nodded and smiled. “You did great.” He didn’t burn down the apartment, which was always a victory, but even beyond that he’d stayed to help, and worked even faster than Raidou did.

Hitoshura’s good mood was contagious, and it livened Raidou more than the warmth of the apartment or the food they would eat. Raidou wasn’t dissatisfied with his life, he quite liked it in fact, but the day they’d shared made him realize how lonely he felt when Hitoshura returned to the Vortex World. Shopping with him, cooking with him, waking up next to him in the morning, and just being with him filled Raidou with an emotion he didn’t know how to begin putting into words.

So he didn’t try, and settled for action instead. He pulled out the object he’d taken from his cape earlier, that had been on his mind all day, and held it out to Hitoshura. “I’ve wanted to give you this for a while.”

Hitoshura snatched it from his hand, flipped it around to inspect it, and even sniffed it. Confusion was clear in his face when he asked, “A key?”

Raidou motioned to pull hat brim down and only grabbed air. “For my apartment.”

His boyfriend looked at him, then at the key, then back to him, still lost. “I don’t actually need keys, you know. I can get in without it.”

“I know you don’t. It’s just…I want this to be a place you can always come back to. You shouldn’t have to pick locks to get into your own home.”

Hitoshura’s hand curled around brass key like he was cradling it. Now Raidou could see the reaction he’d only seen a fraction of earlier in the snow. The blue markings on his body brightened to a soft red, almost pink, and his face was uncharacteristically solemn as he looked into Raidou’s eyes over the low table. “I’ll keep it safe.”

The key wasn’t expensive at all, and he could have another made easily, but Raidou suddenly felt that they weren’t really talking about a key. He nodded in acknowledgement. “I never doubted you wouldn’t.”

Hitoshura smiled shyly at him, and Raidou returned it. He felt light and young and happy. He wanted to move to the other side of the table and hold his boyfriend close and kiss him. But then something exploded behind him.

They ran to the kitchen. The entire stovetop had been blown off, and the ruins of it were still smoking. The pot was in pieces on the floor, and embedded in the wall and ceiling. Broth and ingredients were splattered haphazardly like entrails from a murder. As Raidou stared at the carnage, a cabbage leaf fell from the ceiling onto his head.

Apparently Agi magic and cookware did not mix. Narumi would probably notice this.

They brought Narumi take-out from the restaurant they’d eaten dinner at, in the hopes that it would smooth over the news of his destroyed kitchen. It did not

[teenycabb]

from where we stand

Well, this here’s the first chapter of whatever monstrosity that my brain unleashed. There’s not gonna be a lot really happening, it’s largely a buildup/background chapter needed to reorient yourself into this AU. Happy reading!

Also on FFN.

Words: 8,519

Somewhere in the Eastern Mountains, Amestris, 1905

It was the sharp ring of the bell that signaled to the workers that the work-day had ended. Twelve hours they had stood on their feet, performing the same task over and over and over again, baking under the high heat radiating off of the large machines that they worked on. Often standing hunched over their machine, performing tedious work with hardly any feeling in their hands, fighting from breathing in the dust and stray particles in the air.

But it had been a good day. There had been no major accidents. Nothing for them to halt the production line while the machine was being repaired because someone had leaned too far over and their loose items became caught in the machine.

Riza remembered the sight of Mary-Ann Arbor being hauled out, half of her scalp ripped from her body, simply because she had leant too far over and one of her beautiful red braids had gotten caught in the machine. They had taken her home to her family, where they bandaged their wounds as well as they could and prayed desperately for her to make it against odds and survive the night. Their prayers had not been heard and young Mary-Ann was dead by morning.

Riza solemnly buttoned the many buttons on her coat before grabbing her pail that served to carry the lunch she never ate and made to leave the factory. She would be back before the sun broke over the horizon in the morning, and give another full day’s work. Only for the cycle to repeat itself over the next day, and the day after that. Only stopping for the one day of rest required by the government, only for her ten to twelve hour shifts to begin again until the next day of rest.

It was a dull existence, but it provided food for the table and a way to keep the bank off of their property.

Riza pushed her way through the doors and out into the frozen realm outside. The wind immediately bit her face and sucked her breath away, but Riza barely noticed. It was late at night and she still had to pick up some things from the general store before she could return home and make dinner for her father. And she had to hurry, because there was only a short window of time before the general store closed it’s doors for the night. Then again, on a night like this, it was entirely possible that they would have closed their doors early due to the snowstorm.

But still, she had to try. The store would not be open before she returned to work in the factory tomorrow, and the item was something she desperately needed.   Slowly, but surely, Riza made her way through the near deserted streets until she reached the main strip. Here there was no one outside. Everyone was inside their homes or their shops, out of the frigid cold and tucking in for the night. Riza afforded herself no time to be jealous of what they had at their disposal. It would do her no good in the long run. She would only descend quickly into a world of despair and loathing similar to her father’s.

Through the snow, Riza made out light coming from the general store’s window. A sense of warm relief spread through her cold bones. Even if they were closed, someone was there and would let her pay for what she needed. The Havoc family had known her mother’s side of the family for many generations, or so she was told. Her mother had died when she was barely old enough for primary school, and nearly all information she received was secondhand about that side of the family. She hadn’t realized how well-liked her mother had been before she died.

But how was she supposed to have known? Her father never spoke of her mother. He barely spoke to Riza at all. Even if she was the reason they hadn’t been kicked out onto the streets yet.

Stomping her worn boots against the wooden deck, Riza made her way up to the front door. The moment she cracked it open, she could feel a rush of warm air escape into the winter air. It carried with it snippets of conversation and laughter. Riza hurried inside to keep as much of the atmosphere and heat inside as possible. Snow swirled around her as she shut the door.

There was a pause in the conversation as the man behind the counter looked over to see who had come in. His smile widened when he saw Riza standing there, and held up a finger to the people he was talking too, before coming over to greet the customer.

“Miss Riza, you look nearly frozen. Don’t tell me you plan on heading back home in the storm out there?” He asked, despite knowing full well that she did. She always did.  “Why don’t you sleep here for the night? You won’t have to walk that mile into town for your shift tomorrow morning.”

Riza smiled at the older gentleman. Old Jacob Havoc was always insisting on doing things for her, like he saw her as one of his own daughters. Riza always would decline his offer. Oftentimes giving the exact same reason why everytime he asked. She couldn’t stay away from her father for very long, not with his health. It was a pitiful excuse, her father’s health grew worse every day, and due to his stubborn refusal to seek medical treatment, it was unlikely that he would last far into the new year.

“It’s a kind offer, but I really shouldn’t leave my father alone much longer.” Not like she hadn’t left him alone for nearly twelve hours at this point.

“Of course, of course.” Jacob Havoc stepped back and began to peruse the shelves behind the counter. “I can assume that you’re here for the usual then?”

“Yes sir.”

Jacob grabbed a lone paper-wrapped parcel and glanced warily at it. His eyes flickered from the small item to Riza and back again. There was something going on at the Hawkeye residence, and it was more than just Berthold’s failing health. But it was none of his business to pry; Riza’s old man had a temper that would put the wildest wolverine to shame.

“Did any letters come in today for me?” Riza asked, gently picking at a loose thread of her coat.

“No, nothing came. Sorry.” Jacob took a look at the young woman’s face to see if there were any clues as to what she was waiting for. It had been the third time that week that she had come into the store—which also functioned as the town’s post center—asking if there was anything for her in that day’s shipment with the train.

“May I ask what it is you’re so eagerly awaiting?” Jacob said handing over the small parcel to her.

Riza’s small coin count was pushed back to him in payment for her goods.

“You may ask.”

Jacob frowned, but let the matter slip aside. There were many secrets that spun around the Hawkeye’s. Rumors as well. But such was the nature of living in a small town and keeping nearly entirely to themselves. People were inclined to whisper nasty things in the ears of anyone who would listen to them. Most were blatantly false. But there was still something about them. And Jacob could feel in his gut that some weren’t as benign as Berthold and Riza played it off to be.

“Alright dear, but I expect to get the answers I seek out of you sooner or later. I always do. Remember when Jerome broke his mother’s sewing machine when he was a boy? Crazy brat attempted to convince me that the fairies were the ones to break it.”

A sudden protest from the back room broke through to the front, as the son protested against his old man. Jacob only laughed at his son. Riza smiled politely and tucked her small parcel into the interior pocket of her coat.

“I appreciate what you’ve done Mr. Havoc, but I really must be going now.”

Jacob Havoc’s eyes told her that he wished to protest her venturing out into the winter storm, but his mouth remained shut.

“Good night then, Mr. Havoc.” Riza nodded politely to the portly man and tugged her scarf over her face before walking out into the storm.

The winds had not improved within the ten minutes that she was in Havoc’s store. If anything, they had gotten worse. Riza had only walked a few meters away from the store and could no longer see the light that emanated from the window. The winter’s wind bit through her only pair of boots at the widening gap of the seam between leather and the sole. One hand pressed her scarf tighter against her face, while the other followed a fence to ensure she never strayed from the road. One too many persons had frozen to death that way.

Riza’s pace was steady, despite the increasing numbness in her feet and hands. There would only be a few more steps until she reached the rope indicating where the walk to her house would be. Then it would only be a short walk to the front door where she would be able to have refuge from the wind for the night. A short walk and a prayer that the sharp wind hadn’t broken the rope while she was gone.

It hadn’t, and Riza made it to her front door with no incidents.

The house was nearly as cold inside as it had been outside. Striking a match, Riza lit the kerosene lamp on the table in the entryway before removing her winter clothing. Once her outdoor clothing was hung to melt the snow that had piled on the outside, Riza took the small parcel from the store and her lunch pail into the kitchen. The food would hold until tomorrow, it had been removed from the heat of the machinery where she worked. Her purchase was tucked under the sink alongside where the last purchase was kept. Hopefully she wouldn’t need it any time soon.

The floorboards of the ceiling above her creaked, and Riza’s heart sank. If he was still in his study this late at night, it was unlikely she would be able to get some of her own studying done. Not while her father was awake and expected her assistance with his.

Nevertheless, Riza prepared a quick supper to carry up to him. Perhaps he wouldn’t need her, and she could finish the chapter on Amestrian history she’d been working on for the last week. She had finally made it to the Alchemical Riots of 1765 and the complete condemnation and subsequent banning of alchemy in the country. Arguably one of the biggest events that changed the future of Amestris. Not that many really cared about it in any rate.

Most were too concerned about the technological advancements that had been made that allowed Amestris to become the leading industrial and mechanical power that it was.

Lost in her thoughts, Riza carried the tray up the stairs to her father, careful to avoid the rotten step midway on the stairs. She’d been meaning to fix the step for months now, but there was never enough time to do it. There didn’t appear to be much time coming up to fix it either.

Gently, Riza knocked on her father’s study door. There was the sound of a chair being scraped along the floor followed by heavy footfalls as her father marched over to the door. It was flung open and Riza found herself looking up to her father’s displeased face.

“Riza! There you are girl! Where were you when I called for you an hour ago?” He gravelly voice growled at her.

She had barely opened her mouth to explain that the weather had caused the delay in her return home, when her father grabbed her arm and pulled her into the study. The supper she had been carrying was haphazardly discarded to the side as Riza was steered towards the dividing screen in the corner.

“You know what needs to be done. I would like to finish the-” Berthold broke from his sentence in a fit of coughing before continuing. “The code before the month ends.”

From her position behind the screen divider, Riza undid the buttons on her dress down to her waist. Slipping her arms from her sleeves, she tied the sleeves together behind her, before slipping on a specially crafted apron to cover the front of her body. The exposed skin of her back revealed a partially completed alchemical array. She emerged from behind the panels and took position on the table that had been her place during the nights for the past month.

The cold winter storm outside was warmer than the needle used to penetrate the skin of her back.

“Are you alright Riza? Something seems a little off about you today.”

Riza and some of the other coworkers she worked with in the factory had been granted twenty minutes for them to eat and use the facilities. An unexpected occurrence as they had not yet been able to fill the vacant spot Mary-Ann’s death had left in the factory and were behind on production. It had been a week since the last midday break that anyone of them had, and Riza was already getting used to the limited food intake.

That fact was making it difficult for Riza to swallow the pitiful sandwich she had brought with her.

“Excuse me?” Riza broke away from the swirling mess inside her head to glance at her coworker.

The girl was a pretty thing. She had brown curls that were cut close to her head. An outcome that came due to Mary-Ann’s death most likely. Riza herself had cut her hair shorter after the incident as a precaution. But despite the overall pleasant appearance, there were clear signs of her occupation, in the grime on her face and clothes, and on the callouses on her hands.

“Are you feeling ill?” The girl asked of Riza. “Perhaps your back is giving you trouble?”

Riza froze, any thoughts that could have been in her head before gone. It wasn’t showing was it? No, it couldn’t be. She had ensured that she was wearing the dress with the highest neck to keep her father’s work from being spotted as it encroached on the back of her neck. It was also one of the darker ones, as to keep the red ink from being seen through the fabric. Only as an extra precaution though; her underclothes assisted in keeping the lower parts of the tattoo hidden.

The truth of the matter was her back was giving her a little bit of trouble. Her father had been working on the upper portions of the tattoo, having finished the bottom already, and Riza found the skin was a little more tender approaching the back of her neck. Perhaps it was because there wasn’t as much between her skin and the bones underneath as there had been on the lower portions of her back. Not that there was much in those portions in any case either.

But she couldn’t let anyone know that her father was working hours at night to transcribe his notes onto her skin. His secret notes. His forbidden by the government, if discovered it would lead to arrest and likely imprisonment, if not death, alchemical notes.

And that was only what would happen to him. There would be no telling what they would do to Riza, the harborer of the notes. Would she be forced to undergo ways that would rid her back of them, permanently scarring her without attempting to obtain their secrets? Or would she be forced to wait as they decoded her father’s work while she could do nothing to stop them?

No. She wouldn’t let anyone use her the way her father was. Never again. She would take that small amount of savings she had set aside from her meager paycheck and leave when her letter came in. She would start over in a new place with a new identity, far away from Riza Hawkeye.

“Riza? Are you sure that you’re alright? You drifted off a little on me there.” Riza looked at the concerned face of the young woman next to her.

“I’m fine, Ellen. Just a little tired I guess.” Riza attempted to give a small smile to reassure the girl of the lie she was attempting to sell.

Before Riza could gauge how well her lie had gone down with the younger girl, the bell rang again, indicating the only break they received for the day was over and everyone was to head back to work. Riza placed her mostly uneaten sandwich back in her pail and returned it to it’s place before she resumed her position in front of a machine larger than her. Six more hours and then she would be able to return to her father’s house.

But only after checking again if her ticket out of this little town had arrived.

By the time her shift had finished five and a half hours later, the minor twinges of pain emanating from her back had grown and multiplied to the point where she could barely straighten her back from bending over the machines all day. The medication she had taken before leaving the house that morning had worn off well before her only break, and she hadn’t the time to grab more to accompany her lunch as she left that morning.

With every caress of her heavy woolen dress, the only one she had for the frigid winter months, the irritation across her upper back grew until it was almost as if her father had not bothered with the secret array, but had simply lit her back on fire. Her shoulders screamed as she stretched and slid her arms into the sleeves of her frock coat. Nothing seemed more appealing than laying in the few feet of snow outside and allowing the cold to numb her whole body.

Even if that were the most appealing thing to come to Riza’s mind, it was one of the last things she was about to do. She still needed to drop by Havoc’s to see if the letter she had been waiting weeks for had finally given her the excuse she had been seeking, before returning to the house and taking care of her father. If that letter had come, she would be putting her plan into action that very night. The bell above the door chimed as Riza pushed her way into the store and post office. Jacob Havoc was handing over a full bag of sweets to a couple of the local children, but he looked up and waved to the blonde woman that had walked through the door, indicating that he would be with her in just a moment.

Riza raised her hand in acknowledgement and meandered over to look at some of the other stuff that was available at the store. Most of which she would be unable to purchase, but was nice to look at anyway. Perhaps one day she would be able to afford such things.

It was a nice thought.

She wasn’t kept waiting very long as Jacob shooed the youngsters from his store and waved Riza over to the counter.

“I’ve got a letter for you, Miss Riza,” he said holding out an envelope across the counter.

Riza wasted no time. The moment the letter was in her hands, the paper was being torn and she was reading the words. This was it. The moment of truth. Her opportunity to make it out from under her father’s thumb and make her life her own again.

But the further she managed to read down the page, the lower her heart sank. Her application was denied. She would remain here with her factory job, and her father.

Her disappointment must have appeared on her face, because Jacob reached out and rested a hand on her shoulder.

“What’s wrong, child?”

Riza looked at the older man and bit her lip. She could feel the heat in her eyes as tears attempted to push their way to the surface, but she refused to allow them to come. Tears would do nothing for her. They hadn’t when her mother died and her father began his crusade.

She offered him the letter.

It only took him a few moments to skim through the entirety of the thing. The closer to the end that he got the more his face contorted, like he was sucking a sour pickle. When he was finally done reading Riza’s letter he set it aside and grabbed one of Riza’s calloused hands. He closed his hands around hers and tugged her a little closer to the counter. Riza didn’t resist and took that extra step closer.

“They’re fools, all of them. You’re a brilliant woman, and any academy should consider itself blessed for you to grace their halls with your intellect.” Jacob attempted to smile at her. “How long have you been planning on leaving?”

Riza swallowed. Longer than she would admit aloud.

Jacob seemed to understand and patted her hand a couple of times before letting go. He took a step back and reached under the counter for a moment. When he returned he was holding one of the small sacks he had used earlier in the evening with the children and their candy. From the slight bulge to it, Riza assumed he had slipped some sweets in there for her as well.

“A gift. Don’t you worry about paying me back for it, it’s on the house tonight.”

“Thank you, Mr. Havoc. I appreciate the kindness,” Riza said, taking the bag from the older gentleman. It wasn’t likely that she was going to eat any of the sweets inside, she had never been one to have the ‘sweet tooth’ as others. They both knew she was likely to hand the sweets inside to one of the village children, or save it to distribute amongst the other factory workers.

Riza slid the little bag into one of the pockets on her coat when the door to the store was flung open. Jacob’s son, Jerome, was bracing himself against the doorframe attempted to slow the way he was gulping the air into his lungs. Both Jacob and Riza started toward the young man.

“R-Riza! Come quick!” Jerome gasped. He raised his head to look at his father and Riza. “It’s your fa-father!”

“My Father?” Riza appeared at Jerome’s side and helped him to stand up straight. “What happened with my father?”

There were a million thoughts racing each other through Riza’s head. Had her father’s time come? Had the illness he had been fighting for the past months finally captured her father in it’s talons? Would he still be around for her to say her goodbyes? Had someone discovered that he had been researching alchemy for the past few years? Had they found him? Would someone come for her?

All of these thoughts were gone within a split second of entering her brain. Riza gripped Jerome’s upper arm tightly.

“What happened, Jerome?! Tell me!”

Taking a breath, Jerome looked Riza in the face, brown eyes to brown eyes.

“The military. I overheard them at the station. They want your father. I don’t know why, but they do. I told Jessie to stall them while I warned you, but I’m not sure how long she’ll be able to do it.” Jerome turned to his father. “What would the military want with Mr. Hawkeye? I doubt a ill recluse would be of any real interest to them.”

But Jacob wasn’t looking at his son. His gray eyes rested resolutely on Riza’s figure. He couldn’t see the face she was giving his son, but he didn’t need to see it. Jacob could read her as well as he could read any of his own children. And he could see with the way every muscle in her body tensed and the way her hands were clasped around Jerome’s upper arm. In the way her shoulders rose and her head dropped.

Riza was desperate.

It only took her a second to let the impact of Jerome’s words to sink into her brain before she let go of Jerome’s arm.

“I have to go.”

Riza didn’t look back as she ran out into the winter atmosphere outside. She ignored the calls of Jacob and Jerome as she sprinted as fast as she could toward her house.

She needed to warn her father. She needed to get him out of there. He was harsh and neglectful, but she didn’t want him to be tortured by the Military. She never wanted that.

All she had wanted was to be free. To be Riza Hawkeye outside of her father’s influence.

Still, with each step on the compacted snow, she ran closer to her house. The wind pushed at her back, encouraging her to move faster. If Riza listened closely to the wind while ignoring her own breaths, she thought she could make out the sounds of military vehicles following her. If they were back there, they would overtake her within minutes.

She pushed her legs harder as she pushed those thoughts aside. To dwell along those thoughts would be to hinder herself.

“Father!” She shouted as soon as she flung the door open, uncaring if it slammed into the wall behind it. It was unlikely that they would be able to return.

“Father! Where are you?” Riza took the steps two at a time. “We have to leave! The military is here! They know about your work!”

Riza threw open the door to her father’s study without bothering to knock, an infraction that had led to severe punishment when she was younger. Taking a couple steps inside, Riza saw that the study was empty. Not just of her father, but of everything that had been in there the night prior. All the materials he had used to permanently disfigure her back with, gone. The ink and the needles. The scraps of paper her father had composed the pattern the tattoo was to take form of. Even the scrap of fabric that she had worn during the process was gone. Was she too late? Had the military come and cleaned out everything?

“Hold your tongue girl! We don’t need your voice announcing to the world my work!” Berthold Hawkeye appeared from his bedroom and limped toward his daughter.

Riza was unable to deny herself the relief she felt at the sight of her father walking toward her, free from restraints.

“Father! The military-!”

“Are on their way. Yes girl, I heard you when you were shouting for me. Grab your bag, we’re leaving.”

Berthold shouldered past his daughter and continued down the stairs with a light satchel slung over his shoulders. He didn’t look back at Riza once to determine if she was following his order or not.

Riza didn’t allow herself any time to allow the fact her father was still free to sink in. The military was still coming, and they were both still in danger. They needed to make their escape quickly if they wanted to stay out of federal prison. Or hanging from a rope.

There wasn’t much that Riza grabbed when she went into her room. Some clothes, her good shoes, and a few personal toiletries. She closed the small bag and slung it across her shoulders and hurried to rejoin her father downstairs. She reached the door when she remembered something that she couldn’t bear to leave behind.

As quickly as her legs could carry her, she ran to her bedside table and pulled open the drawer to withdraw the only item inside. The golden locket and chain threw the light that it caught onto Riza’s face.

Inside was the only picture she had left of her mother. It had been a portrait taken a few months after Riza’s birth. Riza was resting in her mother’s arms as she sat with her father standing just behind them. Her mother’s face was slightly smiling, so contrary to most of the other portraits that Riza had seen others have. Even her father’s face was softer.

Of course that had stopped once her mother died.

Clutching the locket tightly in her hand, Riza dashed out if the room. There was no time for her to properly secure it around her neck at the moment, and to leave it in her bag or one of her pockets would only tempt fate further.

And she was not about to do that.

Her father was waiting for her in the hall. Berthold’s icy-blue eyes watched her land every step on the stairs until she was on the floor a few feet in front of him.

“Come, our escape awaits us just over the hill in the clearing.”

Riza nodded and followed her father out the back door and through the snow. With the recent snow-storm they had had, their tracks would not be hard to miss once the military arrived and found that they were no longer in their house. Riza hoped they would get far enough into the woods to put some distance between them before they arrived. Perhaps make it all the way to the clearing.

The clearing was a forbidden place for Riza. All through her childhood years, she had be able to roam anywhere she wanted on the mountainside. There were no neighbors to worry about the young girl trespassing on their property, and the carnivorous wildlife had been driven from the area due to the wealthy in town hunting for sport, rather than sustenance. The only rule was she needed to have sight in the house at all times. And crossing over the hill into the clearing did not have a line of sight to the house.

The snow was deep and hindered their escape. In addition, the extra strain from the exercise exacerbated the cough that was in Berthold’s lungs. They could go no more than a dozen or so feet before Berthold would have to stop and bend over as he fought to regain his breath.

It worried Riza. But not as much as when she noticed the small red droplets falling in the snow.

“Father!” She cried out. Her arms reached out to catch her father as he collapsed against the ground.

Using the strength she had, Riza heaved her father from his face-down position in the snow to a resting position against a tree. Blood trickled down his chin and splattered against the collar of his coat. Riza knelt in front of him and attempted to wipe the blood on his face away. His feeble hand caught her wrist.

“No. It’s my time.”

“But, Father, I can—.”

Her sentence was interrupted by the sounds of wood cracking and glass smashing. Riza whipped her head around to look down the hill toward where their house was. Shouts followed soon after the crashes. The military was there.

They were going to get caught.

“Go, leave me behind.” Her father’s weak voice turned her attention back to him.

“I can’t. Not when they’re so close behind us.” Riza swallowed at the lump that had formed in her throat. This hadn’t been what she wanted. She didn’t want to part like this, a fugitive from the government with her father knocking on death’s door.

“Listen to me. Get to the clearing. You’ll find means of escape there. Start over. And whatever you do, do not let anyone see the code on your back. Go. Go!”

With a feeble shove against her wrist, Berthold pushed his daughter away. For a moment Riza only looked at her father, torn between obeying and not. But something in her face hardened, she nodded once, and left.

As Berthold watched his only living relative escape higher up the mountain, he settled himself in place, waiting to be found. With a quick scrape of a pocket knife, he carved a transmutation circle in the bark of the tree he rested upon. He pressed his two fingers against the rim of the circle and activated it.

A gust of cold mountain air blew down and wiped all traces of Riza’s footprints away.

“Goodbye, and good luck, brave daughter,” he whispered into the empty air. His eyes were closed before the military arrived with their guns drawn.

Riza had reached the crest of the hill before she considered taking a pause for breath. Even then she only spared a moment to look back from whence she came. The clearing was only a few dozen feet ahead of her. She would be able to get in whatever vehicle her father had stashed up there and disappear before the military could catch her.

Descending down the side of the hill to get to the clearing wasn’t as easy as Riza had hoped. The snow covered everything underneath it, disguising the ice and exposed tree roots from her keen eyes. Several times she stumbled or slipped as she descended.

A small unfrozen creek appeared between the banks of snow. Riza let out a startled yell and clamored to regain her balance. It wasn’t until she gripped the trunk of a nearby tree that she stopped herself from falling into the freezing water.

Taking a moment to regain her breath and to evaluate how to get across without dropping anything into the water, Riza rested her head against the tree. What was she doing? She had nowhere to go. Her application had been denied and had no family left.

She hit the tree with her fist. This hadn’t been what she wanted when she talked of freedom.

Her back burned worse than ever.

“She went this way!” A man shouted.

Riza turned to face where she had come from to see a lone soldier standing upon the crest of the hill between the gaps of the bare trees. The blue of his uniform contrasted greatly against the snow underneath his feet and against the gray-brown of the tree bark. Riza could not make out his face, the distance between them was too great. But she knew if he looked hard enough he would be able to spot her through the mass of trees around her. The dark green of her coat would see to that.

Clutching her mother’s locket tightly in her hand, Riza backed away from the tree. She was going to have to jump over the creek. One slip and she would fall into the water below. Riza swallowed and took a deep breath.

There were only a short few steps to build up enough speed to clear across the divide. It wasn’t enough, but there would be no going back. Not once her feet left the ground and she was flying through the air. She thought she could hear the soldier at the the top of the hill cry out at her leap, but that didn’t matter.

The moment her boots touched the ground again, she was running.

Everything hurt. Everything burned. Her back, her legs, her side. Never in her life had she run for so long or so fast.

Finally it was within reach. The trees around her were beginning to clear out and Riza could see the clearing. The deepness of the snow grew the further out from the interior of the forest she ran. It hindered her progress slightly, but Riza only lifted the skirts of her dress and moved forward with a wider stride. She was so close to achieving her escape. She couldn’t fail now.

With a bang, the bark on a tree in front of her splintered and flew in every direction. Riza’s run stuttered before she continued on. It didn’t take her long to process that it was a gunshot. That they just shot at her.

“FOOL! We need her alive! She may be the only key to the old man’s research now!” Someone screamed behind her.

Just a few more feet. Just a few more.

The clearing was empty. Void of anything but snow.

“No.”

Riza spun around in the center of the clearing. Desperately looking for anything she could have missed when she first dashed into the open space. But there was still nothing. No vehicle, no horse. Not even a visible path outside to take outside of the clearing. Nothing but snow and the bootprints she had created once she ran in. Riza sunk to her knees. Her hands were bare, but she gripped at the snow in front of her anyway.

“Major! I found her!”

Riza barely lifted her head to watch a soldier emerge from the woods with his gun drawn and pointed at her. He wouldn’t shoot her. She knew. The military needed her alive to expose her father’s secrets to them. Even if they didn’t know they only needed the array on her back. She didn’t need to be alive for someone to discern it.

It didn’t take long for the soldier’s superior officer to arrive.

“Well done Cadet. Now, arrest her. I would very much like to get out of this hell hole they call a village. Hopefully, we will be able to get back to the station and leave before the weather takes another turn.”

Riza didn’t have to look up to know that the weather was beginning to turn. The wind was picking up, whipping Riza’s short blonde hair across her face. Loose snow was lifted from their resting place on the ground and swirled around everyone standing in the vicinity of the clearing. Light flashed from the sky as the clouds rolled down through the mountains.

She waited. Her freedom was gone, slipping from her grasp before she even had the chance to fully grasp it for her own. The moment the iron cuffs were strapped her wrist she would become a non-entity. Another faceless and nameless victim that would be long forgotten as soon as those who knew of her died.

A sudden shout drew Riza’s attention from the snow beneath her.

“What the hell is happening?!”

Riza rose her head to see that it wasn’t the weather that was blowing the wind and snow around in the clearing. Nor was it lightning in the sky that was illuminating the area. It was lighting from the ground.

It was alchemy.

Startled, Riza attempted to pull her hands from the ground, but found she was unable too. Her hands were pinned to the ground as the transmutation grew in power. It was as if she were the one activating the transmutation.

But that wasn’t possible. Riza knew absolutely nothing of alchemy. She had asked her father to teach her what he knew when she was young and still in school, but he refused. His response was that he was not going to potentially lose his daughter to alchemy.

It didn’t take very much to see the irony now.

When Riza imagined performing alchemy when she was younger, she never imagined that it would feel anything like this. She didn’t expect there to be any pain involved. The sense of burning that had been on her back and in her muscles was back and it was intensified tenfold. It permeated down to the innermost organs and there was no relief in sight. She felt as every cell in her body was being torn apart from each other violently. If this was what alchemy felt like every time a transmutation was performed, she wanted nothing to do with it.

Distantly, Riza heard someone screaming. A voice in the back of her head told herself that it she was hearing her own screams.

She was being pressed upon from all directions. Had she the mental processes, she would have evaluated that this was how it felt to be fruit she crushed for their juice.  

The light from the transmutation was growing brighter. Riza had to turn away from looking at where the two soldiers had fallen backwards in their haste to clear the area. Alchemy was taboo, and hardly anyone knew what happened during the process. It was safer to retreat to a good distance away should anything unpleasant happen.

Using every ounce of energy that she had left in her, Riza focused on prying her hands away from the ground. If she could disconnect from the unseen circle, perhaps she could stop the transmutation and everything would stop and go away. Perhaps everything would go away.

She couldn’t keep the scream from leaving her body as she freed her hands from the snow. There was a moment of relief at the broken connection, before everything went dark and Riza collapsed into the melting snow.

The outskirts of Central, Amestris, 1763

The night was chilled. Only a light dusting of snow covered the flat ground outside the blooming city of Central. The winter had been a mild one so far, possessing none of the violent winter storms that had plagued them in the previous years.

It eased the hasty retreat of the three men on horseback.

“I thought you said that the Major wouldn’t be there for another few days!” One of them shouted.

“How was I supposed to know that he would come home early!” Another shouted. “I’m not all-powerful! I’m just an alchemist!”

A third man barked out a laugh. “An alchemist with the most extensive intelligence network I’ve seen! Your network rivals the king’s!”

The alchemist said nothing to either of the men he was riding beside. His grip on the reins tightened and he urged his steed to run a little faster, pulling ahead of the other two. The dark hood that was still clinging to his head slipped off, exposing the dark hair underneath.

The third man sidled up to the first once the space where the alchemist was cleared. A flop of blonde hair peeked out from the dark hat that was on his head.

“What’s the matter with him? So what, we didn’t get the intel we wanted. We’ll have another opportunity as soon as his informant sends her report.”

The first man sighed and squeezed the bridge of his nose underneath his spectacles.

“It’s not that simple Jean. Were you not paying attention when we left? We weren’t headed to Central for the intel. We were there for the informant. There’s reason to believe that her cover was compromised, and that her life was in peril.”

“Shit.” Jean glanced back at the trail leading back to Central. “Shit, I’m sorry Maes.”

Maes pushed his spectacles back up to the bridge of his nose and stared at the back of their alchemist ahead of them.

“Don’t be bothered too much by it. The trouble we ran into was not your doing.”

“Still, I could have been more attentive.”

“Well, yes.” Maes gave Jean a brief look. Jean scowled back at him.

The horse in front of them slowed from its gallop to a trot, before it stopped completely on the trail ahead of them. Jean and Maes pulled on the reins of their horses to stop alongside their third man.

“What is it?” Maes asked. His hands drifted toward his hip where he kept a couple knives alongside a pistol.

Jean likewise rested his hand on the rifle that was slung beside him.

“Don’t you feel that?”

Maes and Jean glanced at their partner before glancing down at the ground around them. There wasn’t anything happening. Earthquakes were rare in Amestris, especially in the area around Central, but not completely unheard of. But there was nothing happening. Not even the tremor of loose pebbles on the ground from any pursuers.

“Roy, there isn’t anything to feel. If this is still about the informant we left behind in Central, you know that it wasn’t your fault. What’s going on with you?” Maes dropped his hand from his knives and reached out for the other man. Roy brushed off his concern with a swat of the hand.

“But it’s everywhere. How can you not feel it?” Roy turned to look at his friends, a wild look in his eyes.

“Listen. There’s nothing to feel. The only thing we should be feeling right now is the pace of our horses as we get a fair distance away from this place.”

Roy muttered to himself as he allowed his horse to move a few steps away from the other two. His attention was rapt to the mountains. He was oblivious to the exchanged glances of his companions and the short whisperings they shared concerning him.

“I have to get over there.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. What the hell are you talking about? There’s nothing in the mountains. It’s nothing but certain death to head—.”

The rest of Jean’s sentence was cut off with the sound of hooves beating against the ground with shouting accompanying them. The trail they had just come from began to illuminate under the light of handheld torches.

The military had caught up with them.

“Shit. Shit. Fuck. We gotta go.” Jean jerked his head toward the direction they were heading prior to Roy’s stop. He didn’t wait for any response before he took off.

Maes nodded and reached out. Without hesitating, he slapped the dazed face of his friend who had made no indication he was aware of the military being seconds from catching up with them. Roy had still been muttering that he needed to head up to the mountains when the sudden slap cut it off. When he had turned back to look at Maes there was a look of disbelief on his face as well as anger.

“What the hell? I bit my tongue.”

Maes only jerked his thumb back towards the oncoming party of pursuers before he spurred his horse to taking off after Jean. Roy glanced up to see the torchlight from where they had come, and was quick to follow after Maes and Jean.

Nothing was said between the three of them as they ran. Although it wouldn’t have mattered if they had. The military had caught a glimpse of Roy as he rounded the top of one of the few hills in the area, and their efforts doubled to catch up with the fugitives. And as soon as they reached the level ground again, they began to fire their muskets.

Aiming with most muskets would be difficult. Most times when someone fired, the slug would end up a few feet away in something that wasn’t being aimed at. Not entirely a bad thing when those being fired upon was lined up in a straight row, but on horseback aim was almost non-existent. But those were most muskets.

These were the military’s muskets.

Despite the proclamation by the king and the military that alchemy was the devil’s hand on earth and that it, and anyone found to be practicing it, should be cleansed from existence; Roy and the others fighting knew that the king’s government had been utilizing alchemy to modify their weapons to improve their aim.

Better aim combined with the highly trained officers of the Amestris military was a deadly combination. Whether on horseback or not, the men fleeing had lost more than one friend at the hands of a military officer and understood the dangers of what they were up against.

Which was why Roy was working frantically with the materials in his bag. If he could finish his calculations in time, he could have a live grenade to drop behind them and create some distance between them and the military.

“You better be working on a plan there Roy! Cause I would hate to end this hanging from the end of a rope. My wife will be severely displeased with me.”

If Roy had the mental facilities to spare, he would have rolled his eyes at his friend. Fortunately, Jean covered that for him.

“Of course he does! Gracia would kill him if he didn’t.”

“Alright, that should about do it.” Roy secured the flap of the small bag, and glanced over his shoulder to see how close the soldiers were behind him. Too close for comfort, but far enough where Roy and the others wouldn’t get caught in the blast.

Turning slightly in his saddle, Roy lobbed the small package after touching the circle that had been stitched into the leather. The shimmering light from the transmutation lit up the night far better than the torches some of the soldiers carried. Once the soldiers noticed the transmutation, they attempted to get out of the way, for they all understood what happened when Roy performed alchemy.

But it was too late. The bag exploded, sending soldiers flying from their horses, and engulfing everything within a fifteen foot radius within a ball of fire. Those that weren’t blown from their steeds or engulfed in fire reared back, torn between their order to pursue, and their desires to help their comrades in any way that they could.

The retreat of the three men slowed as they took in the damage created by the alchemic grenade, and to see if any of the soldiers would continue the pursuit. Jean and Maes had pistols at the ready in case anyone made it through the fire. None came through. Relieved that for the moment they were free, Maes and Jean holstered their pistols again.

“Come on. Let’s get out of here. I’m sure Grumman will want to know what happened tonight. And,” Maes directed his horse away from the burning aftermath of Roy’s attack, “I’m sure that he’ll want to discuss our next move, now that we’ve potentially lost a key informant.”

Jean agreed and moved to follow Maes’ lead.

Roy stared at the flames he created for a moment or so longer. Then his head gave a slight twitch and he looked around him, before resting his gaze on the two other men. He nodded to them and they began moving again.

As they continued along, no longer at the fast pace they had been before, but not slowed down to a walk, Roy could feel what had caught his attention before the soldiers had caught up with them. This time, he kept his mouth shut and focused on moving his horse forward.

But it still called to him. A vibration deep in his soul that told him to go up the mountains. To find what was causing the disturbance there.

Whatever it was, it would have to be dealt with later. He needed to finish his mission first, report back to Grumman, before he could go off and do anything as foolhardy as heading up the mountains to search for something he knew nothing about.

But he promised himself. He would go and find out what was calling him up there.

Even if he had to disobey orders to do so.

[doyoudrew]

How To Pull A Nancy Drew

By someone who hasn’t done it yet.... but this is my life’s work.

It’s under the cut because it’s really fucking long.

Step 1A: the most important step: realize taking the traditional route isn’t making you happy.

         You can’t be Nancy if you want stability or want to go on to grad/professional school or if you are excited about your new job and want to jump right into it—it won’t be good for you. I’m doing my post-grad-family-disappointment-vagabond-journey because I hate school and I’m so burnt out I haven’t gone to a full week of class at all this semester. This is the right choice for me, and I know this because I’ve been traveling while I’m in school and realize it’s when I’m happiest. If this isn’t true for you, don’t do something like not accept your grad school offer or turn down a grown-up job. What I’m saying is: don’t do anything you’re going to regret. Pulling a Nancy Drew is still kind of a commitment. It’s one you can get out of pretty easily, but you might have to wait a while to get into the next stage of your life.

The entire point of doing this is to make yourself happy. Only take trips or internships or jobs that make you happy. Don’t do it if it’s going to make you unhappy.

 Step 1B: Finish your semester/year/graduate.

         This is important. Don’t just drop out of school. If you can hold out until you actually graduate, do it: then you’ll have your degree for when you decide to stop being a figurative leaf in the wind, and you can use it to get a real job. Also, some of volunternships require a 4-year degree, and they are one way to start doing what Nancy does. And, if you’d prefer real office work, you have to either be in college or have recently graduated to get traditional internships.

 Step 2: Get a job.

         If you’re still in college, only do this if you can work while you’re in school. If you’re out, then no offense, but you should’ve been doing something already.

         The job you get is going to be crappy and not pay very well, but it is going to pay, and it’s going to be one that lets you take time off easily. I’m a server. I make pretty decent money because, not to brag, but I’m pretty good at it. I don’t have a limit on how much time I’m allowed to take off and if I feel like I’m not making enough I can pick up more shifts. More importantly, I like my job and I like everyone I work with. If you hate yours or you’re bad at it, find a new job. I realize that might sound a little “trickle-down economics”… my point is: just make sure you’re working and you don’t hate it. All of this is a personal thing, so do what works best for you. When I was in high school I worked at Zaxby’s to support my travel habit. One of my close friends was a lifeguard. It doesn’t matter what it is, as long as you don’t want to rip your face off when you walk into work and they let you take time off to travel.

 Step 3: Stop buying stuff.

         If you start reading this Step 3 and thenthink, “I already don’t buy stuff, this is really condescending, I still don’t have any money” then just skip it. My feelings won’t be hurt.

         “Stop buying stuff? Easier said than done” you might say. I don’t.

         You have to pay your rent, or for car repairs, or for your prescriptions, or for a new pair of contacts. I get that. You have to buy food, too. That’s not “stuff”. Those are necessities.

         “Stuff” is like, a thirtieth skincare product that still smells weird and still doesn’t make you look like Jennifer Aniston. “Stuff” is, for me, a millionth pair of lacy underwear to shove in the overflowing drawer. More craft supplies that I don’t use. Another freaking mug when I have so many I can’t close my cabinet. If you can figure out what Minette means by “stuff”, you can figure out what “stuff” means for you. Maybe it’s socks or razors or DVDs. Figure it out and stop buying it.

         I get it, stuff is pretty, and buying it feels nice and can occasionally work to prove to yourself that you’re an adult on a day you really need convincing. But it’s a temporary high! I can’t help you combat impulse buys (I still deal with it myself. I’m writing this and thinking of the 8—yes eight­—candles I bought from Family Dollar yesterday for no reason other than ~aesthetic~ when I read at night, because I’m a hypocrite and a whore) but I can help you find cheaper shit. Use discount cards, buy things when there’s a sale, go to secondhand stores for books and clothes and furniture, when you get new clothes make sure you can wear them in more than one outfit.

         I realize you probably already know all of these things. Stop Buying Stuff is probably one of the harder things to master, but you can do it. Do it in your own way. Or if you can’t, read one of the millions of Pinterest articles written by blog moms about saving money. I had to stop writing this step because I started sounding like them, which I never want to do.

TL;DR: A lot of times it feels like what I’m buying is a necessity, but it isn’t. Just be aware of what you’re buying, and don’t get it if it isn’t going to change your life.

 Step 4: Where you gonna live while you’re being a bum?

         At this moment in time, I live by myself in a sweet-ass apartment. I only have one very quiet neighbor, I use piles of books as furniture and my bedroom consists of a mattress on the floor, one lonely dresser, and a milk-crate as a bedside table. I love living by myself. But after I graduate, when the loan that I use for my housing runs out, am I gonna be able to stay here? Maybe not.

         The reasons I probably won’t be able to stay in my apartment after August, when my lease runs out: my heating bill in the winter is insane and I won’t be able to afford it. I would be paying rent on a place I’ll be away from for weeks or months. I’ll have to repay the aforementioned loan, on top of making travel arrangements. If this sounds like you, you might have to make the hard decision to leave your home sweet apartment too.

Option one: move back home. I’m lucky enough to have a good enough relationship with my family, and for my dad to have a house big enough, for me to move in with him later if I want to. It would be the cheapest option, and I know I would get along with my roommates (i.e., my dad and my dog). Living with your parents isn’t sexy, but if your life is going to look like a cycle of working nonstop for a month and then leaving the country for a few, it’s the most pragmatic. Also, Nancy Drew still lives at home, and that’s really what this is all about.

         Option two is to find some roommates. Living with someone means you still have rent and utilities to pay, but it’s much cheaper than living on your own, and you know someone will be at your house while you’re off gallivanting around the world. Make sure you like your roommates: I have had terrible experience with roommates and at this given moment, there is only one person I would actually consider moving in with—and it would cut down on my living expenses.

         Of course, there are other fluke options that you personally might have. If they sound good, take them. Remember, this entire thing is just guidelines, about how I’m going to pull a Nancy—if you want to do this too, do it your own way!

         Also, very importantly, your living arrangements depend on what kind of traveling you’re going to do. Want to teach English in Japan? Great, but that’ll probably last six months to a year. Want to take a road trip out West? Cool, is it a two week road trip or a month-long one? Maybe you just want to live at the beach or in a state park for a week. Do it. If you want to backpack New Zealand you could do it in two weeks, but that plane ticket is going to be hella expensive, and you need to make sure your bills are covered while you’re being a world traveler.

 Step 5: The best step: Start planning your trips.

         This, obviously, is completely up to you. If you do want to do things exactly like Nancy does, you’ll probably take a lot of internships. For the record, the way she lives her life is completely unrealistic, because she has absolutely no experience or direction and yet they just appear for her, and I’m jealously annoyed by that.

         Trips vary in length and expenses. I recommend picking one and sticking with it. I also heavily advocate doing something like, having a work-travel-work cycle—basically you just come home to work. That’s my plan, anyway. Also, don’t forget that there’s probably cool things to do near your hometown, and you can do those things while you’re there.

         If you’re afraid your degree is worthless without grad school, fear not! I’m here to tell you it isn’t. I feel confident telling you that because my degree is in anthropology, the mother of all useless degrees, and yet I have never been afraid about finding a job. When I realized I didn’t want to go to med school, I honestly just typed “anthropology degree jobs” into the indeed.com search bar and a million different jobs came up. Do that with your degree and I’m sure you’ll find a bunch of things to do with it. Also, there are several entry-level jobs that just require a degree—any degree. Indeed and Monster are also decent ways to find internships, if you’re looking for them. Anyway:

 Traditional Internship finders:

http://www.internshipfinder.com/

https://www.looksharp.com/s/summer-internships

http://www.internships.com/

http://www.idealist.org/ ß for nonprofit/humanitarian/volunteer-esque types of internships or real jobs. This one is actually a site I use a lot.

(if these don’t make you happy, use google)

 Short, fun, pay-your-own-way Volunteer trips:

http://www.himalayanhealth.com/ (India; I did this in the summer of 2014 and loved it, it’s an awesome program and you learn a lot while you’re there working in public health camps)

http://www.habitat.org/volunteer/long-term-opportunities/international (habitat for Humanity abroad--this is not a short trip, be warned)

https://www.volunteerforever.com/article_post/2016-best-volunteer-abroad-programs-organizations-projects (to help you decide because I don’t want to read 900 articles for this one blog post)

 Et Cetera:

https://www.internationalteflacademy.com/blog/bid/51364/top-5-countries-to-make-the-most-money-teaching-english-overseas (about teaching English overseas a la Shadow at the Water’s Edge; there are several programs for this so… do your research)

http://wwoof.net/ (volunteering on farms in almost every country; a family friend did this and now speaks fluent Italian. there is an incredibly strong possibility that I will go WWOOFing in the near future)

https://www.peacecorps.gov/ (can’t forget the peace corps exists)

https://www.nationalservice.gov/programs/americorps (the peace corps’ domestic sibling, if you want to volunteer but want to stay in the states)

 There are plenty of other very cool programs for pretty much anywhere you want to go. Pick a place and then use your google (that’s basically how I plan my trips).

ALSO, you can take trips just to take trips. This is generally what I personally do, except for the times I took study abroad trips in college. I’m also very about traveling domestically—these are generally cheaper trips and there’s a lot of cool stuff to see in the US. If you already have a road trip buddy, hold on to them tight.

If you’re a road tripper, you should look at how to turn your car into a camper. It can be done with almost any car (except, like, a miata, obviously). I have a pathfinder and I’m going to convert it and just leave it that way so that I can go camping at the drop of a hat—but the conversions are really simple and if you just want to convert it for a trip and then put it back , you can.

 Other parting thoughts:

·        If you can supplement your income by doing something creative, selling stuff, doing any type of freelancing, etc: do it.

·        Paying for parking is for chumps.

·        You don’t need to own more than one pair of sweatpants.

·        Nancy always sounds really put together, but the reality of being a travel bum is that you’re going to be a grungy person for a while. It’s fine, because the people around you are also grungy, and really all of you are just there to have a good time.

·        I cannot stress how much you don’t need a closetful of clothes.

·        When packing for anything, try to be able to fit it all into a carry-on size bag. Checking bags is also for chumps.

·        Get and use good soft-sided luggage, like a duffle or a frame-pack. Suitcases are real cutesy but they end up taking up a lot of space and are hard to navigate with.

·        As much as I just rambled about not spending money, there are some things you should splurge for. These are: good quality versatile shoes (I love Chacos, personally), good luggage, a reusable water bottle and/or travel mug that’s going to last you, a portable charger for when there are no outlets, et cetera. But if you spend money on these things, you can’t spend money on stuff, because you’ll run out of money. Ps—you can find decent luggage at a thrift store. I bought a Kelty frame pack at a flea marker for $12. It doesn’t have to be expensive to be good.

·        If you’re a road tripper and love camping, look into getting a pass for all the state parks in your state. If you like other things, like amusement parks, look into getting a season pass (the Carowinds family of amusement parks goes all the way up the East Coast, for instance, and there’s some kind of season pass you can get that lets you into all of them).

 That’s all I have for right now. I’m sorry it took so long for me to make this (and that it’s such a long post) but I’m glad I finally did it! Feel free to message me for anything, especially if you have questions. I’m not sure if this is as clear as I want it to be, but here’s to hoping.

[inloveandwords]

If you are participating in ContemporaryAThon or if you are just looking for some great contemporary romance novels for adults, I’ve put together this list of all my favorites.

If you’d rather watch the video (and find out why I love each book), you can check it out here:

Repeat by Kylie Scott

From Audie Award winning, New York Times best-selling author Kylie Scott comes an irresistible new romance – available in audio first!

When a vicious attack leaves 25-year-old Clementine Johns with no memory, she’s forced to start over. Now she has to figure out who she was and why she made the choices she did – which includes leaving the supposed love of her life, tattoo artist Ed Larsen, only a month before.

Ed can hardly believe it when his ex shows up at his tattoo parlor with no memory of their past, asking about the breakup that nearly destroyed him. The last thing he needs is more heartache, but he can’t seem to let her go again.

Should they walk away for good, or does their love deserve a repeat performance?

♥

Atheists Who Kneel and Pray by Tarryn Fisher

Yara Phillips is a wandering muse.

She dates men who need her, but always moves on to something new, never staying in one place for very long.

David Lisey is in need of a muse.

A talented musician lacking lyrical inspiration. When he first sees her, he knows he’s found what he’s been looking for.

Yara believes she can give David exactly what he needs to reach his full potential: A broken heart.

David’s religion is love.

Yara’s religion is heartache.

Neither is willing to surrender, but religion always requires sacrifice.

♥

Blurred Lines by Lauren Layne

In a novel that’s perfect for fans of Alice Clayton and Emma Chase, Lauren Layne delivers a sexy take on the timeless question: Can a guy and a girl really be “just friends”?

When Parker Blanton meets Ben Olsen during her freshman year of college, the connection is immediate—and platonic. Six years later, they’re still best friends, sharing an apartment in Portland’s trendy Northwest District as they happily settle into adult life. But when Parker’s boyfriend dumps her out of the blue, she starts to wonder about Ben’s no-strings-attached approach to dating. The trouble is, even with Ben as her wingman, Parker can’t seem to get the hang of casual sex—until she tries it with him.

The arrangement works perfectly . . . at first. The sex is mind-blowing, and their friendship remains as solid as ever, without any of the usual messy romantic entanglements. But when Parker’s ex decides he wants her back, Ben is shocked by a fierce stab of possessiveness. And when Ben starts seeing a girl from work, Parker finds herself plagued by unfamiliar jealousy. With their friendship on the rocks for the first time, Parker and Ben face an alarming truth: Maybe they can’t go back. And maybe, deep down, they never want to.

♥

Hate Notes by Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward

From New York Times bestselling authors Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward comes an unexpected love story of secondhand hearts and second chances…

It all started with a mysterious blue note sewn into a wedding dress.

Something blue.

I’d gone to sell my own unworn bridal gown at a vintage clothing store. That’s when I found another bride’s “something old.”

Stitched into the lining of a fabulously feathered design was the loveliest message I’d ever read: Thank you for making all of my dreams come true.

The name embossed on the blue stationery: Reed Eastwood, obviously the most romantic man who ever lived. I also discovered he’s the most gorgeous. If only my true-love fantasies had stopped there. Because I’ve since found out something else about Mr. Starry-Eyed.

He’s arrogant, cynical, and demanding. I should know. Thanks to a twist of fate, he’s my new boss. But that’s not going to stop me from discovering the story behind his last love letter. A love letter that did not result in a happily ever after.

But that story is nothing compared to the one unfolding between us. It’s getting hotter, sweeter, and more surprising than anything I could have imagined.

Something new.

But I have no idea how this one is going to end…

Misadventures of a College Girl by Lauren Rowe

Straitlaced freshman Zooey Cartwright has arrived at UCLA determined to have a heck of a lot more fun in college than she did in high school. What’s the first item on Zooey’s agenda before classes start in two days? Losing her pesky V card. She’s definitely not looking for a boyfriend, so where can Zooey find the right guy to do the deed and move along without a backward glance? At a party thrown by a bunch of football players, of course.

Enter Tyler Caldwell. A beast on the field and off, cocky as heck, and often wearing T-shirts with sayings like “God’s Gift to Womankind,” Tyler is most definitely not boyfriend material.

After a make-out session with Tyler leaves Zooey entirely unsatisfied, she is determined never to see him again. But her schedule lands her in not one but two of his classes, and it doesn’t take long before Tyler is giving Zooey exactly what she wants—and a whole lot more she never bargained for. Can Zooey surrender her body to this bad boy without giving him her heart, too?

♥

A Love Letter to Whiskey by Kandi Steiner

It’s crazy how fast the buzz comes back after you’ve been sober for so long.

Whiskey stood there, on my doorstep, just like he had one year before. Except this time, there was no rain, no anger, no wedding invitation — it was just us.

It was just him — the old friend, the easy smile, the twisted solace wrapped in a glittering bottle.

It was just me — the alcoholic, pretending like I didn’t want to taste him, realizing too quickly that months of being clean didn’t make me crave him any less.

But we can’t start here.

No, to tell this story right, we need to go back.

Back to the beginning.

Back to the very first drop.

This is my love letter to Whiskey. I only hope he reads it.

♥

The Wall of Winnipeg and Me by Mariana Zapata

Vanessa Mazur knows she’s doing the right thing. She shouldn’t feel bad for quitting. Being an assistant/housekeeper/fairy godmother to the top defensive end in the National Football Organization was always supposed to be temporary. She has plans and none of them include washing extra-large underwear longer than necessary.

But when Aiden Graves shows up at her door wanting her to come back, she’s beyond shocked.

For two years, the man known as The Wall of Winnipeg couldn’t find it in him to tell her good morning or congratulate her on her birthday. Now? He’s asking for the unthinkable.

What do you say to the man who is used to getting everything he wants?

♥

How to Walk Away by Katherine Center

From the author of Happiness for Beginners comes an unforgettable love story about finding joy even in the darkest of circumstances.

Margaret Jacobsen has a bright future ahead of her: a fiancé she adores, her dream job, and the promise of a picture-perfect life just around the corner. Then, suddenly, on what should have been one of the happiest days of her life, everything she worked for is taken away in one tumultuous moment.

In the hospital and forced to face the possibility that nothing will ever be the same again, Margaret must figure out how to move forward on her own terms while facing long-held family secrets, devastating heartbreak, and the idea that love might find her in the last place she would ever expect.

How to Walk Away is Katherine Center at her very best: an utterly charming, hopeful, and romantic novel that will capture reader’s hearts with every page.

Birthday Girl by Penelope Douglas

From New York Times Bestselling author Penelope Douglas comes a new forbidden love story…

JORDAN

He took me in when I had nowhere else to go.

He doesn’t use me, hurt me, or forget about me. He doesn’t treat me like I’m nothing, take me for granted, or make me feel unsafe.

He remembers me, laughs with me, and looks at me. He listens to me, protects me, and sees me. I can feel his eyes on me over the breakfast table, and my heart pumps so hard when I hear him pull in the driveway after work.

I have to stop this. It can’t happen.

My sister once told me there are no good men, and if you find one, he’s probably unavailable.

Only Pike Lawson isn’t the unavailable one.

I am.

PIKE

I took her in, because I thought I was helping.

She’d cook a few meals and clean up a little. It was an easy arrangement.

As the days go by, though, it’s becoming anything but easy. I have to stop my mind from drifting to her and stop holding my breath every time I bump into her in the house. I can’t touch her, and I shouldn’t want to.

The more I find my path crossing hers, though, the more she’s becoming a part of me.

But we’re not free to give into this. She’s nineteen, and I’m thirty-eight.

And her boyfriend’s father.

Unfortunately, they both just moved into my house.

*BIRTHDAY GIRL is a stand-alone, contemporary romance suitable for ages 18+.

♥

The Hating Game by Sally Thorne

Nemesis (n.) 1) An opponent or rival whom a person cannot best or overcome; 2) A person’s undoing; 3) Joshua Templeman. Lucy Hutton and Joshua Templeman hate each other. Not dislike. Not begrudgingly tolerate. Hate. And they have no problem displaying their feelings through a series of ritualistic passive aggressive maneuvers as they sit across from each other, executive assistants to co-CEOs of a publishing company. Lucy can’t understand Joshua’s joyless, uptight, meticulous approach to his job. Joshua is clearly baffled by Lucy’s overly bright clothes, quirkiness, and Pollyanna attitude.

Now up for the same promotion, their battle of wills has come to a head and Lucy refuses to back down when their latest game could cost her her dream job…But the tension between Lucy and Joshua has also reached its boiling point, and Lucy is discovering that maybe she doesn’t hate Joshua. And maybe, he doesn’t hate her either. Or maybe this is just another game.

♥

From Lukov with Love by Mariana Zapata

If someone were to ask Jasmine Santos to describe the last few years of her life with a single word, it would definitely be a four-letter one.

After seventeen years—and countless broken bones and broken promises—she knows her window to compete in figure skating is coming to a close.

But when the offer of a lifetime comes in from an arrogant idiot she’s spent the last decade dreaming about pushing in the way of a moving bus, Jasmine might have to reconsider everything.

Including Ivan Lukov.

♥

November 9 by Colleen Hoover

Beloved #1 New York Times bestselling author Colleen Hoover returns with an unforgettable love story between a writer and his unexpected muse.

Fallon meets Ben, an aspiring novelist, the day before her scheduled cross-country move. Their untimely attraction leads them to spend Fallon’s last day in L.A. together, and her eventful life becomes the creative inspiration Ben has always sought for his novel. Over time and amidst the various relationships and tribulations of their own separate lives, they continue to meet on the same date every year. Until one day Fallon becomes unsure if Ben has been telling her the truth or fabricating a perfect reality for the sake of the ultimate plot twist.

Can Ben’s relationship with Fallon—and simultaneously his novel—be considered a love story if it ends in heartbreak?

Until it Fades by KA Tucker

Twenty-four-year-old truck stop waitress and single mother Catherine Wright has simple goals: to give her five-year-old daughter a happy life and to never again be the talk of the town in Balsam, Pennsylvania: population two thousand outside of tourist season.

And then one foggy night, on a lonely road back from another failed attempt at a relationship, Catherine saves a man’s life. It isn’t until after the police have arrived that Catherine realizes exactly who it is she has saved: Brett Madden, hockey icon and media darling.

Catherine has already had her fifteen minutes of fame and the last thing she wants is to have her past dragged back into the spotlight, only this time on a national stage. So she hides her identity. It works.

For a time.

But when she finds the man she saved standing on her doorstep, desperate to thank her, all that changes. What begins as an immediate friendship quickly turns into something neither of them expected. Something that Catherine isn’t sure she can handle; something that Catherine is afraid to trust.

Because how long can an extraordinary man like Brett be interested in an ordinary woman like Catherine…before the spark fades?

♥

Dear Aaron by Mariana Zapata

Ruby Santos knew exactly what she was getting herself into when she signed up to write a soldier overseas.

The guidelines were simple: one letter or email a week for the length of his or her deployment. Care packages were optional.

Been there, done that. She thought she knew what to expect.

What she didn’t count on was falling in love with the guy.

♥

Lingus by Mariana Zapata

Most people would describe Katherine Berger as a responsible girl with a big heart, a loyal friend who takes care of those close to her, and the possessor of a wicked sense of humor. There was something about her that most people didn’t know. “My name is Kat Berger, and I love porn.”

When twenty-five-year-old Kat is dragged to a porn convention by her best friend, she’s both embarrassed and nervous. The last thing she ever expected was to meet someone who makes her laugh like no other. This is a story about acceptance and friendship, and a love born out of the most unexpected of places.

♥

It Ends with Us by Colleen Hoover

Sometimes it is the one who loves you who hurts you the most.

Lily hasn’t always had it easy, but that’s never stopped her from working hard for the life she wants. She’s come a long way from the small town in Maine where she grew up — she graduated from college, moved to Boston, and started her own business. So when she feels a spark with a gorgeous neurosurgeon named Ryle Kincaid, everything in Lily’s life suddenly seems almost too good to be true.

Ryle is assertive, stubborn, maybe even a little arrogant. He’s also sensitive, brilliant, and has a total soft spot for Lily. And the way he looks in scrubs certainly doesn’t hurt. Lily can’t get him out of her head. But Ryle’s complete aversion to relationships is disturbing. Even as Lily finds herself becoming the exception to his “no dating” rule, she can’t help but wonder what made him that way in the first place.

As questions about her new relationship overwhelm her, so do thoughts of Atlas Corrigan — her first love and a link to the past she left behind. He was her kindred spirit, her protector. When Atlas suddenly reappears, everything Lily has built with Ryle is threatened.

  What are some of your favorite standalone adult contemporary romance novels? Have you read any of these?

      Favorite Standalone Adult Contemporary Romance Novels for ContemporaryAThon + New Video If you are participating in ContemporaryAThon or if you are just looking for some great contemporary romance novels for adults, I've put together this list of all my favorites.

[additionallysad]

Houston, We Have A Big Boy Bedroom (Buh-Bye Crib!) http://ift.tt/2EpcRW9

Our little man’s room is looking a little different these days, thanks to finally being done with the crib (our kids love a crib) and making a few other tweaks to the space while we were at it. He’ll be four this April, and he finally decided he was done with the crib earlier in January, which was bittersweet. We’ve had the same crib in our house for nearly 8 years (!!!) since our daughter used it before him for quite a while too. But it was also exciting because it meant his room was about to get some updates after basically being frozen in time for the past four years (you can read all about the process of creating his nursery here).

ceiling light / sconces / similar daybed / similar rug / blue bee pillows / art / duvet / sheets

I’m not even exaggerating when I say it hadn’t changed since we put this room together in anticipation of his arrival (back in April of 2014). Same chair, same rug, same curtains, same crib sheets, same green closet door, same bike art, same play baskets, same stuff on the built-ins. Pretty much everything: THE SAME. In fact, whenever anyone asked for an update on his room we said “If you look at the reveal on the blog that’s pretty much what it looks like right now! The only change is that we removed the changing pad after he stopped needing that. But literally almost identical!”

A few months ago he did finally discover that the little “T” wall decals we added were peel-off-able… after more than 3 years of not touching them at all. Oh well, they had a good run. And now that we added some sconces and a large piece of art to that wall between the built-ins, it’s feeling airy and light without them, so it’s all good.

similar chair / pouf / similar side table / curtain rod / similar curtains / similar daybed / sconces

You might remember the daybed as the same one we used after our daughter was done with the crib when she was around 3.5 years old. She remained in the daybed until last year, when we upgraded her to a larger full-sized bed (more on that here). That conveniently freed up the daybed to be used by her brother… whenever he ended up being done with his crib (we didn’t know we still had almost a year to go! Ha!). Have I mentioned our kids LOVE A CRIB?!

similar drawer hardware / sconce / art / bee pillow / duvet / cloth bin

A daybed is a great way to transition out of a crib since it’s low to the ground, has two rails on the ends, and is basically just sort of like a big crib without the front. This one is from West Elm (no longer sold, but here’s something similar) and it fits a regular twin-sized mattress. We actually designed these built-ins to eventually accommodate a twin or even a full sized bed, so it’s like the space is finally fulfilling its bed destiny.

To read how we DIYed the built-ins in each corner of the room, here’s a full write up. We just used ready-made Ikea dressers and added the bookcase on top, using crown molding and baseboard to make them look built-in. This is a really doable project, even for a beginner.

art / bee pillow / duvet / sconce / cloth bin / similar drawer hardware / “I’d Be Lost” print

The sconces might be my favorite part because I always dreamed of adding sconces to either side of the “interior nook” that the built-ins created. It didn’t make sense to shine lights down on a baby in a crib (just picture that – a little “baby investigation” – ha!) so I showed unusual restraint and waited until we changed the crib out for a bed to add them. Then one day I discovered that Target sold these awesome brass and blue enamel sconces for just $49.99 (you have the best luck finding two of them by ordering them online). They basically screamed “BUY ME” and I listened.

The best thing about them is that they’re plug-in sconces (couldn’t hardwire anything into the side of the built-ins anyway) and the on/off switch is right on the base of the sconce, so you don’t have to hunt for it on the cord somewhere behind the bed, which is blissfully convenient.

We also bought some 3M Command cord clips to secure the cords against the baseboard so they’re not flapping around anywhere and we’re happy to report that we haven’t had any issues with anyone messing with them (younger kids in a crib might yank on them, so I’d reserve them for an older kid in a bed). It’s a nice clean look to have them turn and follow the baseboard too, so the cord clips have been really helpful.

The art is another favorite find for the room, especially since the combo of rocks (what almost-four-year-old doesn’t love rocks?!) and bright colors is basically our son’s sweet spot these days. It’s a downloadable print from Jenny’s Print Shop that was just $15 for the download and we got an 18 x 24″ print of it at FedEx Office for $22. If you guys haven’t check out Jenny’s Print Shop yet, I highly recommend it. You can get such affordable large scale prints this way (or really prints of any size). We already had this frame, so all together it was under $37 for some awesome wall-filling art!

To cozy up his new bed, we added some blue & white pinstripe sheets, a couple of these bee pillows, and this long gray bolster (which has a zip off cover). The duvet is the same Ikea one we also use in our bedroom. That’s a new pillow on the chair too (it’s this one) just to bring some more of the light colors from the bed over to that side of the room. The side table is a secondhand find (here’s something similar), the rug was a HomeGoods discovery (here’s something similar), the pouf is from here, and the chair is no longer sold (but here’s something similar).

Although the room has moved away from a lot of the forest greens we originally decorated with, he still loves his cheerful closet door (it’s Irish Moss by Benjamin Moore), which ties into the giant bike print that still hangs over his bookcase (that was a print that hung in The Gap and we asked if we could have it when they changed our their displays).

similar rug / similar chair / pillow / pouf / similar side table / woven baskets / fabric bins / similar curtains

His “changing table” (really just an Ikea bookcase that we wrapped in wood) has officially changed back to being a bookcase. The natural woven baskets in the cubbies were there before, but I did swap some light colored fabric bins in (to replace two larger and more baby-ish bins we used to have with a gorilla and a dragon on them). Since we’re not storing bulky diapers or baby blankets, the smaller baskets have been easier for a three-year-old to pull in and out to help clean up his own toys, which is always a plus.

Whenever I share a picture of this whale everyone asks where it’s from. We got it at Pottery Barn Kids many years ago. Maybe in 2012? Wish they’d bring it back, it’s so cute. And that shelf with the books in it…. remember when John built that eight years ago?! It was the very first thing he ever built. And now the man can make built-ins and even decks! Well, deck. He might only make one of those in his lifetime. Ha!

That round thing with the iPod in it is a sound machine we’ve had forever that we use to play an album of white noise on repeat while he sleeps (our daughter used to use this one). I joke that we might be the last household in the world who uses an iPod everyday.

Oh and a few people asked why we didn’t go right for a full sized bed in here since we mentioned how our daughter’s room felt so much more grounded and less like it had a big skating rink in the middle of it when we traded a full bed in for the daybed, but this room is a lot smaller – maybe even half the size. So it would feel much more cramped with a bigger bed, and he still uses the floor a lot for spreading out cars and blocks, so the daybed is great for this room.

I shot a quick video of the room for you too, so if you wanna see the room “in action” (and get a peek at the cord clips & check out the closet, etc) – just click play below. NOTE: If you’re reading in a reader, you may need to click through to our blog to see the video. You can also watch it here on YouTube.

And because it’s always fun to look back at where we started, this is the same room – complete with old carpeting and pink trim – back when we bought this house in 2012! Note: you can see all of the before & afters from this house right here on our House Tour page. 

It wasn’t the worst room to start with, but it sure has come a long way. Even if it ends up getting frozen in time for a few more years…

And for anyone who’d like to “get the look” I made this little mood board full of actual things we own/bought for the room (and some similar items if the original ones are no longer for sale):

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15 / 16 /17 / 18 / 19 / 20

P.S. You can see how this room together as a nursery here, learn how we built the built-ins here, and see how we wrapped that Ikea bookcase in wood here. Also, for sources and paint colors throughout our entire house, we created this Shop Our House page for you guys with all of those details.

*This post contains affiliate links*

The post Houston, We Have A Big Boy Bedroom (Buh-Bye Crib!) appeared first on Young House Love.

[lukerhill]

Houston, We Have A Big Boy Bedroom (Buh-Bye Crib!)

Our little man’s room is looking a little different these days, thanks to finally being done with the crib (our kids love a crib) and making a few other tweaks to the space while we were at it. He’ll be four this April, and he finally decided he was done with the crib earlier in January, which was bittersweet. We’ve had the same crib in our house for nearly 8 years (!!!) since our daughter used it before him for quite a while too. But it was also exciting because it meant his room was about to get some updates after basically being frozen in time for the past four years (you can read all about the process of creating his nursery here).

ceiling light / sconces / similar daybed / similar rug / blue bee pillows / art / duvet / sheets

I’m not even exaggerating when I say it hadn’t changed since we put this room together in anticipation of his arrival (back in April of 2014). Same chair, same rug, same curtains, same crib sheets, same green closet door, same bike art, same play baskets, same stuff on the built-ins. Pretty much everything: THE SAME. In fact, whenever anyone asked for an update on his room we said “If you look at the reveal on the blog that’s pretty much what it looks like right now! The only change is that we removed the changing pad after he stopped needing that. But literally almost identical!”

A few months ago he did finally discover that the little “T” wall decals we added were peel-off-able… after more than 3 years of not touching them at all. Oh well, they had a good run. And now that we added some sconces and a large piece of art to that wall between the built-ins, it’s feeling airy and light without them, so it’s all good.

similar chair / pouf / similar side table / curtain rod / similar curtains / similar daybed / sconces

You might remember the daybed as the same one we used after our daughter was done with the crib when she was around 3.5 years old. She remained in the daybed until last year, when we upgraded her to a larger full-sized bed (more on that here). That conveniently freed up the daybed to be used by her brother… whenever he ended up being done with his crib (we didn’t know we still had almost a year to go! Ha!). Have I mentioned our kids LOVE A CRIB?!

similar drawer hardware / sconce / art / bee pillow / duvet / cloth bin

A daybed is a great way to transition out of a crib since it’s low to the ground, has two rails on the ends, and is basically just sort of like a big crib without the front. This one is from West Elm (no longer sold, but here’s something similar) and it fits a regular twin-sized mattress. We actually designed these built-ins to eventually accommodate a twin or even a full sized bed, so it’s like the space is finally fulfilling its bed destiny.

To read how we DIYed the built-ins in each corner of the room, here’s a full write up. We just used ready-made Ikea dressers and added the bookcase on top, using crown molding and baseboard to make them look built-in. This is a really doable project, even for a beginner.

art / bee pillow / duvet / sconce / cloth bin / similar drawer hardware / “I’d Be Lost” print

The sconces might be my favorite part because I always dreamed of adding sconces to either side of the “interior nook” that the built-ins created. It didn’t make sense to shine lights down on a baby in a crib (just picture that – a little “baby investigation” – ha!) so I showed unusual restraint and waited until we changed the crib out for a bed to add them. Then one day I discovered that Target sold these awesome brass and blue enamel sconces for just $49.99 (you have the best luck finding two of them by ordering them online). They basically screamed “BUY ME” and I listened.

The best thing about them is that they’re plug-in sconces (couldn’t hardwire anything into the side of the built-ins anyway) and the on/off switch is right on the base of the sconce, so you don’t have to hunt for it on the cord somewhere behind the bed, which is blissfully convenient.

We also bought some 3M Command cord clips to secure the cords against the baseboard so they’re not flapping around anywhere and we’re happy to report that we haven’t had any issues with anyone messing with them (younger kids in a crib might yank on them, so I’d reserve them for an older kid in a bed). It’s a nice clean look to have them turn and follow the baseboard too, so the cord clips have been really helpful.

The art is another favorite find for the room, especially since the combo of rocks (what almost-four-year-old doesn’t love rocks?!) and bright colors is basically our son’s sweet spot these days. It’s a downloadable print from Jenny’s Print Shop that was just $15 for the download and we got an 18 x 24″ print of it at FedEx Office for $22. If you guys haven’t check out Jenny’s Print Shop yet, I highly recommend it. You can get such affordable large scale prints this way (or really prints of any size). We already had this frame, so all together it was under $37 for some awesome wall-filling art!

To cozy up his new bed, we added some blue & white pinstripe sheets, a couple of these bee pillows, and this long gray bolster (which has a zip off cover). The duvet is the same Ikea one we also use in our bedroom. That’s a new pillow on the chair too (it’s this one) just to bring some more of the light colors from the bed over to that side of the room. The side table is a secondhand find (here’s something similar), the rug was a HomeGoods discovery (here’s something similar), the pouf is from here, and the chair is no longer sold (but here’s something similar).

Although the room has moved away from a lot of the forest greens we originally decorated with, he still loves his cheerful closet door (it’s Irish Moss by Benjamin Moore), which ties into the giant bike print that still hangs over his bookcase (that was a print that hung in The Gap and we asked if we could have it when they changed our their displays).

similar rug / similar chair / pillow / pouf / similar side table / woven baskets / fabric bins / similar curtains

His “changing table” (really just an Ikea bookcase that we wrapped in wood) has officially changed back to being a bookcase. The natural woven baskets in the cubbies were there before, but I did swap some light colored fabric bins in (to replace two larger and more baby-ish bins we used to have with a gorilla and a dragon on them). Since we’re not storing bulky diapers or baby blankets, the smaller baskets have been easier for a three-year-old to pull in and out to help clean up his own toys, which is always a plus.

Whenever I share a picture of this whale everyone asks where it’s from. We got it at Pottery Barn Kids many years ago. Maybe in 2012? Wish they’d bring it back, it’s so cute. And that shelf with the books in it…. remember when John built that eight years ago?! It was the very first thing he ever built. And now the man can make built-ins and even decks! Well, deck. He might only make one of those in his lifetime. Ha!

That round thing with the iPod in it is a sound machine we’ve had forever that we use to play an album of white noise on repeat while he sleeps (our daughter used to use this one). I joke that we might be the last household in the world who uses an iPod everyday.

Oh and a few people asked why we didn’t go right for a full sized bed in here since we mentioned how our daughter’s room felt so much more grounded and less like it had a big skating rink in the middle of it when we traded a full bed in for the daybed, but this room is a lot smaller – maybe even half the size. So it would feel much more cramped with a bigger bed, and he still uses the floor a lot for spreading out cars and blocks, so the daybed is great for this room.

I shot a quick video of the room for you too, so if you wanna see the room “in action” (and get a peek at the cord clips & check out the closet, etc) – just click play below. NOTE: If you’re reading in a reader, you may need to click through to our blog to see the video. You can also watch it here on YouTube.

And because it’s always fun to look back at where we started, this is the same room – complete with old carpeting and pink trim – back when we bought this house in 2012! Note: you can see all of the before & afters from this house right here on our House Tour page. 

It wasn’t the worst room to start with, but it sure has come a long way. Even if it ends up getting frozen in time for a few more years…

And for anyone who’d like to “get the look” I made this little mood board full of actual things we own/bought for the room (and some similar items if the original ones are no longer for sale):

1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13 / 14 / 15 / 16 /17 / 18 / 19 / 20

P.S. You can see how this room together as a nursery here, learn how we built the built-ins here, and see how we wrapped that Ikea bookcase in wood here. Also, for sources and paint colors throughout our entire house, we created this Shop Our House page for you guys with all of those details.

*This post contains affiliate links*

The post Houston, We Have A Big Boy Bedroom (Buh-Bye Crib!) appeared first on Young House Love.