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haddonfieldwhore · 1 year

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a knock on the door - leon kennedy

leon kennedy x reader

warnings: enemies to lovers (again: kind of), more cliches, mentions of blood, mentions of guns/knives, injuries, language, one use of y/n

not edited • 2.7k words

the sound of someone knocking on your door stirred you awake in your bed, your hand instinctively reaching for the knife under your pillow to protect you against possible intruders. waiting to see if you heard the door again, you quietly got out of bed at the sound of another knock. glancing at the time, it was nearing one in the morning; too late for anyone to be stopping in for a visit. carefully checking around corners before you moved down the hallway, you stared through the peep hole in the apartment door to see and unexpected but familiar face. you opened the door for the man and could now see that he was covered in blood, and you stared at him in shock.

“leon?” you asked in disbelief. “what the hell are you doing here?” leon kennedy was a stars special agent who you had the displeasure of bumping into on more than one mission. to put things simply - you were not often on the same side. leon had caused countless problems for you, always doing the right thing for the greater good; which often meant interfering with your missions, as you were more interested in what would benefit you. perhaps it’s was selfish of you, but this was the life you chose and there was no going back now.

“i-“ leon groaned as he fell back against the hallway wall, clutching his bleeding abdomen. “i didn’t know where else to go.”

“how did you find me?” you asked, pointing the knife at him. you didn’t think anyone knew where your apartment was, and that was the way you liked it.

“i was a cop, remember?” he winced again as he spoke, his hand red with blood. there was a cut on his cheek and his arms were bruised and bloody. it looked like he had been stabbed in the leg as well.

“right,” you sighed. the first time the two of you had met, leon had tried to apprehend you for stealing a precious but dangerous item; you had intended to sell it to a high paying buyer but in the end, you let him take it. it always seemed to work out that way - with leon getting the upper hand in the end. it screwed you out of a lot of money, and got you in a lot of trouble with past employers of yours. “what happened to you?”

“oh you know- just another day at the office- ah!” he groaned in pain again as he laughed, and fell forward slightly. your arms stopped him from crumpling to a heap on the floor, catching him before he hit the ground. “sorry-“ he mumbled, trying to stand up again, but failing.

“fuck- just come inside, before you bleed all over the hallway,” you let him use your shoulder for balance as you practically dragged him into your apartment, helping him through the living room until you laid him down on the couch.

“th-thank you,” he whimpered, his eyelids barely open as he relaxed into the soft pillow.

“yeah- you can thank me by not dying in my living room. are you gonna tell me what happened?” you asked, examining the injuries on his admittedly handsome face.

“later- do you know how to get a bullet out of someone first?” he asked, lifting his hand of his abdomen to show you that he had been shot.

“fuck, leon. i’m serious - if you die on me i will kill you,” you knew it didn’t make any sense, but you didn’t think the barely conscious man cared.

“i know. i’m sorry,” he whispered. “please, just - i need your help.”

“you know if i wouldn’t take the fall for it, it would be a lot easier for me to have you out of the picture,” you said, although you grabbed the first aid kit anyway, gently dabbing at a wound on his forehead.

“yeah well you don’t exactly make my job any easier, either,” leon replied, shifting slightly on the couch to try and find a more comfortable position. you took a pair of scissors from the kit and cut the dark fabric of his t-shirt, giving you more room to work around the bullet wound (and a nice view of his abs, not that you were looking.)

“this is gonna hurt,” you warned, before pouring antiseptic solution on the wound, causing leon to groan loudly. “i would say i’m sorry but i’m really not.” you teased, and he laughed before coughing loudly.

“i know.” he groaned as you continued to clean around the entry wound, before using a small pair of tongs to try and dig the bullet out. leon’s eyebrows furrowed and he clenched his teeth before his hand gripped onto your arm instinctively, his knuckles turning white as he held you tightly. “sorry,” he said as he let go, realizing that he had grabbed you.

“it’s fine - i know this hurts like a bitch. and just for the record: i’m not enjoying this as much as you might think i am.”

you finally got the bullet out, pouring more antiseptic liquid onto the now empty wound, stitching it closed carefully before applying a bandage and taping it to his skin. there was a thin layer of sweat that covered his body and his forehead, and he breathed heavily as he mumbled a ‘thank you’, before leaning his head back against the pillow and closing his eyes.

“you alright?” you asked, and he nodded slightly, which was a good enough answer for you. leon drifted off to sleep as you carefully wiped the blood off of his face and arms, inspecting him for anymore critical injuries. you sighed, staring at the man passed out on your couch, before throwing a blanket over him and switching off the light. too exhausted to make it back to your room, you sat in one of the armchairs in the living room, pulling another blanket over yourself and quickly falling asleep.

•••

when you woke up a few hours later, you winced as pain shot through your neck from your awkward sleeping location. opening your eyes and letting them adjust, you realized it was still dark out, and your click on the wall read 5am. you noticed leon was sitting up on the far end of the couch, his tattered shirt gone and his hair slightly messy. fuck he looked good you thought. wait- what? you had never thought anything like that before. sure, you could recognize that leon was an attractive man, but you were not attracted to him… right?

“good morning,” he said awkwardly. oh right - that’s why you were asleep in the living room.

“hey,” you said, rubbing your eyes and standing up, stretching your arms above your head. leon tried not to pay attention to the way your t-shirt lifted slightly, exposing a thin strip of your skin. he instead looked away, staring at the floor between his feet.

“i don’t know how to thank you-“ he began.

“so don’t,” you interrupted, walking through the living room and into the kitchen, starting the coffee maker. once it finished filling the stained coffee pot, you grabbed a mug from the cupboard and poured the dark liquid into it. you sighed heavily, before grabbing a second mug from the cupboard and doing the same with it, before walking back out to the living room and handing one to leon.

“thanks,” he said, a surprised look on his face as he gratefully accepted the mug. you set yours down on the coffee table. you walked to your bedroom, rummaging through the dresser for an old t-shirt or sweater leon could borrow. finding a zip up sweater that must have belonged to an ex-boyfriend of yours, you walked back to the couch and tossed it at the blond. he opened his mouth to speak but you cut him off.

“if you say thanks again i’ll shoot you myself.”

“then we’d be back where we started,” he joked, wincing as he moved to slide his arms into the sleeves. you noticed that he left the zipper undone, and you tried not to stare at his toned chest. what was the matter with you? you had never looked at leon this way before - how could anything have changed in the last 4 hours?

“are you gonna tell me what happened?”

“do you really care? or are you just asking because you think you should?”

“right,” you sighed, hating the fact that he could see right through you.

“let’s just say i got a little…over confident in my abilities, and it bit me in the ass.”

“you need to learn to be a little less arrogant,” you teased, only half sincere. leon gave you a look and sighed.

“and you need to learn to care about someone other than yourself,” he replied, no playfulness in his tone anymore, and your face dropped.

“so i guess me saving your life doesn’t count for anything then?” you snapped, gesturing to his injuries before storming into the kitchen.

“you’re the one who told me not to thank you,” you heard the sound of his coffee mug being placed on the table, and a groan as he pushed himself up off the couch and followed after you.

“why are you being such a jerk? why show up here in the first place if you hate me so much?” you demanded, crossing your arms.

“i told you- ah-“ he winced as pain shot through his ribs, and he leaned against the doorframe for balance. “i had nowhere else to go. believe i wouldn’t have bothered you if i wasn’t bleeding out.”

“how did you find me so fast? if you were dying how did you have time to track me down?” you asked.

“i don’t know - it’s kind of a blur… getting here to be honest,” he furrowed his eyebrows, before looking up at you. it at least seemed like he was telling the truth. deciding not to push it any further, you went to walk out of the kitchen, but as you squeezed through the small doorframe (half of which was taken up by leon’s tall frame) he grabbed your wrist stopping you in your tracks.

“what are-“

“thank you. i mean it,” he looked into your eyes, and you felt yourself getting lost in his. what was the matter with you? why was being close to him suddenly making you so nervous?

“i said-“ you managed to stutter out but he cut you off.

“i know what you said. i’m saying thank you anyway. you’re right: things would probably be a lot easier for you if i was out of the picture.” you sighed in response.

“don’t flatter yourself.” you rolled your eyes, trying to walk away again, anything to stop looking into his gorgeous eyes. you thought you were loosing your mind. had you hit your head and forgotten about it? why were you suddenly finding him so attractive, why was he making your chest tighten and your heart beat faster?

he gently pulled you back towards him, and you found the space between you even smaller this time.

“y/n…” he whispered, his voice barely audible as he started down at you through half lidded eyes. you looked up, the bright blue of his irises catching your attention yet again, and you couldn’t move as he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. your eyes widened in shock; never in a million years would you have expected to be kissing leon s kennedy, the man who was the bane of your existence. the man who had caused you more problems than you could count, whether that was his intention or not. but the way his lips felt on yours, you couldn’t help but kiss back, and leon hummed softly as he felt you reciprocate.

you pulled away to breathe, in shock at what had just happened, and you stared up at the blond for an explanation. he looked almost as shocked as you did, only making you more confused.

“why… what was that for?” you managed to ask. leon breathed heavily, his chest rising and falling quickly before he shook his head.

“i don’t- i don’t know,” he spoke softly. you stared up at him, your lips still parted slightly in shock.

“you’re supposed to hate me. i hate you.. that’s how this works,” you backed away from him, and he let you remove your wrist from his grip.

“who says it has to be that way? if you really hated me why did you answer the door?” he challenged.

“maybe because i didn’t want a dead body in my doorway, leon!” you whisper-yelled as not to alert your neighbours.

“is that really the only reason?” he asked, stepping closer, wincing as he walked closer, moving too fast for someone with his extensive injuries. he groaned in pain, his hand reaching for the bandage on his side. you stepped towards him, moving the hoodie he wore aside so you could see if he tore any of his stitches. there was a tiny amount of blood seeping through the gauze, and you swore under your breath.

“fuck, lay down,” you ordered, and he did without protest, only making a small grunt of pain as he sank back onto the couch. leon inhaled sharply as your hands touched the skin of his stomach, carefully peeling the bandage off to inspect the wound beneath.

“what’s the verdict, doc?” he asked, and you shot him a look, grabbing a new piece of gauze and tape from the first aid kit that was still out on the table.

“lucky for you, you didn’t rip any stiches, because i don’t feel like sewing you up again.” you smiled, patting his shoulder, maybe a little too hard. he coughed and winced, but thanked you for what felt like the thousandth time as you re-bandaged the wound. you grabbed him some painkillers and a glass of water from the kitchen, which he took happily before laying back against the pillow, his head tilted back exposing his neck. you watched as leon’s adam’s apple boned as he swallowed, before he looked towards you.

“you’re staring,” he teased, unable to hide the slight smile on his face.

“i think you’re delusional from blood loss,” you shot back, but couldn’t help but smile back slightly. you put the blanket back over his body. before you could walk away, his hand grabbed your gently.

“hey- i’m sorry, about earlier,” he admitted, his cheeks a very light shade of pink. “i shouldn’t have done that, and especially not without asking.” you sighed as you looked at him.

“it’s fine .. i guess it’s just… i’m not used to the idea of us not trying to kill eachother,” you admitted. “that’s not us.”

“… maybe it could be? maybe we could start over,” he trailed off. did you want that? you asked yourself. you decided you would figure it out once you got a proper sleep.

“get some rest, leon,” you sighed. “let’s talk about this tomorrow, okay?” you tried to push away any newly stirred up feelings you could be developing for leon, thinking of all the times he had gotten in your way on missions and cost you a big payday - or almost gotten you killed. it was gonna take time for you the two of you to become anything other than two people from opposite sides, but you decided that maybe you were willing to try.

leaning down, you pressed a gentle kiss to lesions forehead, brushing his blond hair out of the way with your fingers. leon’s eyelids fluttered closed, and he exhaled, relaxing under your touch. his eyes didn’t open again, as he tried to go back to sleep like you ordered, and you walked back to your bedroom, crawling under the covers. you felt like you were dreaming; what the hell was going on? you shook your head. maybe this all was a dream, and you would wake up to find no one in your apartment, no blood in the hallway, no extra coffee mug on the table. leon would be gone, and things would be the same as they always were - the two of you strictly enemies, no complications. that would be so much easier, you decided, but even as you drifted off to sleep, you couldn’t get the way his lips had felt on yours off your mind.

#re4 leon #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy fic #leon kennedy fanfiction #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil #re4

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reasonsforhope · 1 year

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Toledo City Council just approved a plan to turn $1.6 million in public dollars into as much as $240 million in economic stimulus, targeted at some of the Ohio metro’s most vulnerable residents.

“It’s really going to help people put food on the table, help them pay their rent, help them pay their utilities,” says Toledo City Council Member Michele Grim, who led the way for the measure. “Hopefully we can prevent some evictions.”

The strategy couldn’t be simpler: It works by canceling millions in medical debt.

Working with the New York City-based nonprofit RIP Medical Debt, the City of Toledo and the surrounding Lucas County are chipping in $800,000 each out of their federal COVID-19 recovery funds from the American Rescue Plan Act.

The combined $1.6 million in funding is enough for RIP Medical Debt to acquire and cancel up to $240 million in medical debt owed by Lucas County households that earn up to 400% of the federal poverty line.

“It could be more than a one-to-100 return on investment of government dollars,” Grim says. “I really can’t think of a more simple program for economic recovery or a better way of using American Rescue Plan dollars, because it’s supposed to rescue Americans.”

How It Works

Under the RIP Medical Debt model, there is no application process to cancel medical debt. The nonprofit negotiates directly with local hospitals or hospital systems one-by-one, purchasing portfolios of debt owed by eligible households and canceling the entire portfolio en masse.

“One day someone will get a letter saying your debt’s been canceled,” Grim says. It’s a simple strategy for economic welfare and recovery.

RIP Medical Debt was founded in 2014 by a pair of former debt collection agents, and since inception it has acquired and canceled more than $7.3 billion in medical debt owed by 4.2 million households — an average of $1,737 per household...

Local Governments Get Involved

The partnership with Toledo and Lucas County is the third instance of the public sector funding RIP Medical Debt to cancel debt portfolios.

Earlier this year, in the largest such example yet, the Cook County Board of Commissioners approved a plan to provide $12 million in ARPA funds for RIP Medical Debt to purchase and cancel an estimated $1 billion in medical debt held by hospitals across Cook County, which includes Chicago.

“Governments contract with nonprofits all the time for various social interventions,” Sesso says.

“This isn’t really that far-fetched or different from that. I would say between five and 10 other local governments have reached out just since the Toledo story came out.”

What's the Deal with Medical Debt?

An estimated one in five households across the U.S. have some amount of medical debt, and they are disproportionately Black and Latino, according to the U.S. Census Bureau...

Acquiring medical debt is relatively cheap: hospitals that sell medical debt portfolios do so for just pennies on the dollar, usually to investors on the secondary market.

The purchase price is so low because hospitals and debt buyers alike know that medical debt is the hardest form to collect...

The amount of debt canceled for any given household has ranged from $25 all the way up to six-figure amounts. Under IRS regulations, debts canceled under RIP Medical Debt’s model do not count as taxable income for households...

Massive Expansion Coming Up

After not one but two donations from philanthropist MacKenzie Scott, totaling $80 million, RIP Medical Debt is planning for expansion.

It’s using a portion of those dollars to create an internal revolving line of credit to expand to places where it can find willing sellers before it has found willing funders.

The internal line of credit means the nonprofit now has new, albeit still limited, flexibility to acquire debt portfolios from hospitals first, then begin raising private or public dollars locally to replenish the line of credit later and make those funds available for other locations.

“People often ask, do you only work with nonprofit hospitals, or do you work with for-profit hospitals? And I’m like, I just want to get the debt, regardless of who created the debt. If it’s out there, I want it,” Sesso says.

Fundamentally, they are not solving the issue of medical debt, but easing its pressure from as many lives as possible — while also upping the pressure on lawmakers and the healthcare industry.

“We’re intentionally taking the stories of the individuals whose debt we have resolved, and putting their stories out into the world with intention in a way that tries to push and create more of that pressure to fundamentally solve the problem,” she says.

-via GoodGoodGood, 4/6/23

#toledo #ohio #chicago #cook county #new york #medical debt #healthcare #healthcare access #united states #us politics #debt crisis #debt relief #hospital #nonprofit #good news #hope

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zhivaoverdrive · 3 months

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Vasila vs Expanders, 1

"Believe me, I really am sorry for you, but this is what's happening," said the booking agent, who didn't look very sorry at all.

“The winner of the Plus Size Shootout contest is taking your spot. "SV is a business and not all of our buyers are a size 0. This comes from upstairs and it's final" he said.

"This is bullshit!" exclaimed Vasila. "After all this time? You'll let some whale off the street take my spot!?"

"It's.. just business. SV isn't exactly in the whaling game, but ultimately whoever wins the vote... wins it" replied the agent cooly. "And no, you don't qualify". ---

Vasila did a slow 360, releasing the taut, over-stretched fabric of her panties at just the right moment.

*twanggggg*

It didn't tickle, her newly inflated ass was incredibly tender, but beauty was pain right?

"There. Size 5. Perfect fit for a plus-size girl" grinned Vasila at the agent.

"For god's sake. Perfect fit!? It's not even visible behind the whole yard of plastic you've pumped into your ass!” "What on earth are you thinking!?" replied the agent.

"I'm thinking that I qualify, and that I'm going to win round 1" Vasila said. "There's nothing on the release about weight, I can read you know. I won't let you kill my career" she finished through a spiteful grin.

"There will be hell to pay for this... We'll change the rules. You'll never see round 2" muttered the agent as he left the dressing room. ---

The biggest controversy to hit the beleaguered modelling industry? We certainly think so. What was poised to be an inclusive event, softening the unrealistic expectations shoved in our faces by supermodels, has turned into a farce. The now notorious 'Vasila', ex-supermodel now disfigured with extreme plastic surgery, pulled off an extreme upset in winning round 1 of the much vaunted SV plus size shootout. Vasila, who as recently as last year hit the runway at a size 0 while flaunting SV's swimwear range, is reported to have been outraged at losing her stage time to the upcoming shootout. But no one predicted what she'd do next.

After seeking out the totally unregulated procedure abroad, Vasila returned with a booty that made the world blush. "Plus. Size. Look at me and tell me I'm not. I’m bigger than half of these losers" was all the controversial figure had to say when reached for comment.

But not everyone agrees. Despite winning round 1, the outcry has yet to die down, with some loud public voices calling for a rule change. "It's ridiculous. *I* am a plus size model. 200lbs and not an ounce of shame about it. To even run this contest without some sort of weight requirement is ridiculous'' said one anonymous commenter.

#saline #silicone #expanderimplants #assexpansion #buttexpansion #bootyexpansion #implantexpandersclinic

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iwritetopassthetime · 1 year

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Bradley and Blossom house hunting headcanon

Part of my home to you universe // Masterlist

Wordcount: 1.4K

Summary: you and Bradley start looking for a house

Warnings: some angst, but mostly fluff

(this is Bradley talking about his dream house with Blossom)

Bradley and Blossom's house hunt begins not long after she starts her new job. between her settling into her position at the landscaping firm and Bradley spending almost every day of the work week on base, they manage to devote a few hours every weekend to sitting down and doing searches online for their new home;

Blossom definitely buys an organiser to keep on top of the planning, while Bradley is more of a 100 tabs open with different real estate sites kind of guy (his laptop sounds like it’s having an asthma attack and is always just another tab away from fully melting);

so Blossom takes over keeping record of everything (contacts of estate agents, pros and cons of each house, pricing, and the rest);

surprisingly, despite his bad info keeping habits, Bradley is very good with the budgeting side of things. having saved a lot of money over the years by keeping a pretty standard way of living and residing in navy-provided housing, means that their house hunting budget is substantial;

Blossom starts feeling bad about not being able to chip in for the house. her salary is stable enough and is allowing her to save money, but from the looks of things Bradley would be the one actually paying for whatever place they decide to buy. when she shares that Bradley one saturday, he assures her that it’s not a competition of who pays more, they’re a couple and everything his is hers and vice versa. they reach an agreement that she can be in charge of refurbishing costs which settles the matter;

they meet an estate agent (Blossom calls him “our Phil Dunphy” mainly because of his incredible likeness to the Modern Family character in terms of looks and personality);

they seem to get offers pretty quickly and are super excited that they might find the perfect house sooner rather than later. but that excitement is soon diminished when the first twenty places are either too pricey and too small, or would need too much fixing that it would make them cost more than their initial price;

“Phil” asks them to stay positive and keep a mind open — the inflation and housing crisis makes things tricky — but he’s sure that he can find them something;

Penny, being the literal, fucking angel that she is, keeps reiterating that however long it takes, they’re more than welcome to make the guest room their own for the time being;

Amelia seems the happiest that they haven’t moved out yet;

she has Bradley AND Blossom to watch TV and reality shows with (their favourite pastime is making fun of contestants on Too Hot To Handle) and do literally anything fun with.

i mean, she is rooting for them to find a house that she can “occasionally” visit, but she’s enjoying the extra time with her besties;

Maverick is the one who is very sceptical of “Phil” and decides to start his own research to help out. he acts like a total dad with that I-can-do-it-better-than-the-professionals attitude;

Blossom finds it endearing;

Bradley has to pull his reins a little 'Mav, you’re a navy pilot, not an estate agent' but to the og Brossom supporter (ship name is still wip), there is no such thing as 'i’ve never studied how to do that, i’m fucking doing it for y favourite couple ever!';

“Phil” takes Bradley and Blossom on a house viewing in mid-october and the place is simply wonderful;

it's a single level, dark blue shingled bungalow with white trimmings. its asking price is a little steep, but “Phil” is sure he can convince the sellers to "bring it down a smidge" since the kitchen needs full remodelling. and there’s a massive backyard for Blossom to create her own garden space;

a few days before Halloween, however, they get a slapped across the face with a message from “Phil” saying he was sorry, but another buyer — some app developer from San Fransisco — came and took the house at the selling price;

Bradley really tried to hold himself together, seeing Blossom's crestfallen expression when she had to cross out “blue house” in your list. there wasn’t even a single one left that didn’t have that angry red line running across its title;

the two are not really in the mood for another house viewing after that. “Phil” understands their dismay, but reminds them that they shouldn’t give up;

Bradley and Blossom decide to give it a rest and enjoy halloween with friends and family, since stressing over the house hunt is not gonna help them in the end;

they leave “Phil” to keep searching while the two take some time off of that whole project;

Blossom puts her organiser away and doesn’t give it too much thought throughout the week after Halloween;

Penny and Mav organise another barbecue;

this time the party is a little bigger, with more people. and a surprise guest there is Sarah, Ice’s wife;

she comes in with a homemade cake and Bradley is immediately on her, hugging her and kissing her cheeks;

he has very warm memories of spending time at her and Ice’s as a child seeing as uncle Ice was a very prominent figure in his formative years;

Sarah is delighted to meet Blossom

‘She’s absolutely amazing, I’m very happy for you, Bradley,’ she tells him when Blossom's off to get some drinks;

‘She is.’ Bradley is like a kid getting a gold star for spelling, whenever someone compliments her because “yeah, my girl is absolutely fantastic!!! do you know she’s a horticulture expert?? yeah she’s fucking incredible" this man is just smitten and loves his girlfriend to bits;

Bradley and Sarah are chatting, Blossom join them soon after and Bradley pulls her to his side. Sarah mentions that Ice kept everything from Carole's old place in a storage container for him because GODS KNOW Maverick wouldn’t have been able to handle that;

'i’ll give you the location and the key so when the two of you want to move into your own place, you can have everything’;

Bradley mentions that the they are indeed looking for a house, but are unsuccessful so far and Sarah’s like ‘oh, I’ve got a place. yeah, Tom and I’s first house — we used to rent it out quite a lot and David’s (their younger son) been in charge of it since Tom passed away’;

the two of them are immediately like ‘oooooh, tell us more’;

Sarah has pictures of the and tells then everything about it (Bradley barely remembers it, but apparently he’s been there as a child): it’s a two-storey, mediterranean style house. three bedrooms, fully furnished kitchen but some appliances are in need of a change. two and a half bathrooms. with a big backyard and a shed. a literal dream;

‘i can check with David, but i don’t think it’s being used at the moment. you two can move in straight away, free of charge, but i know that David expects it to earn something on the market. but I’d just be happy for it to go to someone in the family.’;

Bradley goes all mushy at that (our boy is has a lot of emotions) and it’s down to Blossom to keep a level head and ask Sarah for her number so the two can discuss it further;

Sarah gives her some more info about the house, letting her know that the soil is quite rocky there so it might be tricky to grow anything. but that’s a welcome challenge for our girl Blossom;

at the end of the night, the two of them are just ecstatic about the possibility of finally finding their dream house. Blossom remains realistic and tell him that they still need to see the place in person before making a decision, plus there’s “Phil”s feelings to consider;

what happens really is the next day, Sarah invites them over to the house and you two are settling on a price with David (an incredibly lowered one considering how expensive houses like that are these days), but they are not ones to look an extremely generous gift horse in the mouth;

Blossom calls “Phil” to thank him for the help, of course. they've found their house;

Bradley and Blossom are moving in around mid-november, opening a new chapter in their life as a couple

home to you tags: @gretagerwigsmuse @jupitercomet @youlightmeupfinn @craftymoonchaos @the-winter-marvel33 @agent-jbarnes @blahehblah @katieshook02 @amysteryspot @daisyhollyxox @marantha @piceous21 @mak-32 @twoosinrooster @adoringsebstan @everyoneslovechild @shityoudidntaskfor @alluringshawn @marsontoast @lemur46 @taytaylala12 @benhardysdrumstick @strangeangelflapsuitcase @shanimallina87 @beachesandboats @ishipit1420 @machsachds @wishfulhope (crossed over names are people I wasn't able to tag, sorry)

#home to you #iwritetopassthetime #Bradley and Blossom #bradley bradshaw x reader

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suntiger745 · 7 months

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Still not at the number of Fallout 4 characters (or Skyrim characters before I re-installed it), but I am at the point where I've had to write down some key points about my BG3 characters to keep track.

Anyway.

Dusk Cloudberry, orc shadow monk who works for the Zentharim. She was sleeping in a safe house in Baldur's Gate when the lookout's warning whistle had her scramble from her bed, running out in just her skivvies thinking there was a raid from the Flaming Fists. Turns out it was a nautiloid instead, and she was one of the people captured.

She escaped from the nautiloid with a few others, but she's a bit uncertain what to do now. She's not sure where the closest Zentharim agents are, and the tadpole in her head is... a problem.

Dusk look the way she does because I went with the WoW formula of orcs being morphologically sensitive to magic and changing skin color when enough magic affect them. In Dusk's case it's a mix of magic and alchemy that the higher ups in the Zentharim used on her and a few other agents to enhance their performance. She has excellent reflexes, sharper hearing, actually move between shadows and can see as well as a drow in the dark compared to how she was before the process she went through. (Also, from a purely layer perspective, damn the orcs have like no subcutaneous fat on them.)

Crimson Aria was one of the prize possessions of H'than Mariander; businessman, collector and owner of several taverns and an arena at the Rock of Bral in astral space. He had gotten hold of a githyanki egg and, knowing how they fancy red dragons, decided to create an amalgamation of the two. Partially to annoy the githyanki, partly to see if he could. He hired a wizard and called in a favor from an archfey, and Mariander's "little jewel" was born. As she grew up she was taught to entertain, both on the stage and in the arena. She's a very good singer and a good fighter, at least in a gladitorial arena where the opponent knows that if they kill the boss' favorite there will be hell to pay.

She was kidnapped along with two magical items by a rival to the H'than and shipped planetside to Toril by the mercenaries on the job. They were passing through Baldur's Gate to a potential buyer in Waterdeep when happenstance had Aria caught by one of the massive tentacles and transported her onto the nautiloid.

While not body shy in the slightest, Aria isn't dumb. She realize that she will need allies and that fighting in the arena is different from fighting for your survival, so she got some armor as soon as she could. Now she is looking for a way to return to Mariander and the Rock of Bral, though meeting a real githyanki outside the supervision of her "father" is a rare treat and something she's very curious about, despite Lae'zel's harsh attitude.

Amarantia Celestria is a female dragonborn from a noble family, with a strong current of magic running through her from her ancestors. However, Amarantia chafed at the duties piled on her by the rigid community she lived in. She had dreamed of becoming a bard ever since she was a hatchling, and one night she acted on her desires and ran away to fulfil her dream. She was on the road to Baldur's gate, the city in sight even, when the nautiloid snatched her up.

The whole tadpole situation is a bit scary and a lot inconvenient, but she's determined to pursue her dream anyway. Also, she met a one-horned tiefling from Avernus who called her 'Sparkles'. After the initial shock, which was short-lived because Karlach turned out to be really nice and friendly, she rather liked it. She does sparkle after all, at least in sunlight, and it would be a good bard name.

Lorken to Bairn (Lorken the Child) was on a spirit quest to find his Heart Beast when a giant squid ship flew past over him and snapped him up like a tasty snack. He managed to escape by a combination of luck, a direct application of brute force and some allies he made on the squid ship. Shortly after crashing back on Toril, he could feel the connection to his ancestors in the land around him, even if it was faint, he met a wise and friendly undead. Seeing it as an omen that the first undead he encountered was friendly, he decided to explore the area.

In a battle before the entrance to a druid grove he called out for a Heart Animal to aid him, and a spirit answered. A great bear spirit bonded itself to him, its strength enhancing his already considerable strength, its tough hide letting him absorb blows that would have felled him before. Having found his Heart Beast and thus becoming an adult he took the new surname Bearheart, as was tradition. Seeing the druids as having aided him in his spirit quest, he pledged he would help them as best he could, and by extension the refugees trapped in the grove.

Ash Lightbringer is a devout cleric of Lathander who was raised in a small temple to the Morninglord between Baldur's Gate and Waterdeep. Her parents had met as slaves in one of the Hells, but were freed by a group of adventurers. The paladin of Lathander in the group, Evelyn, was particularly friendly towards them and helped them with a bit of money to find a place of their own in a village when they returned to Toril. Her parents were devout worshipers of the Morninglord from then on and raised their daughter to be the same.

Ash is well trained though she lacks any actual combat or adventuring experience. She had just reached Baldur's Gate to visit the Morninglord's temple there and look for a group of adventurers to join when she got snatched up by the nautiloid. Although she's nervous and frightened by the quite extreme situation she suddenly finds herself in, she is determined to help the new allies she has found. She knows better than many that even in the darkest places there can be a light that brings hope and salvation.

Fionalar Torilastra is a high elf noble lady of Waterdeep whose parents were in turn nobles in Myth Drannor, which she and they will tell anyone who will listen, and quite a few who don't want to listen too. Arrogant, and an outright snob when it comes to drinks and jewelry, Fionalar is nonetheless genuinely talented with magic and a dedicated scholar. She was passingly familiar with Gale via Elminster Aumar and finds it suspiciously that both of them just happened to be snatched up by a nautiloid and implanted with tadpoles altered with [redacted] magic.

Although a bit put off with the "commoner" skills of lockpicking and sleight of hand, she's quite impressed with Astarion in the little party of people she finds herself in. She is determined to find out who and what has collected them and for what purpose. If she and Gale put their minds together, they will surely solve that riddle in short order. Or so she tries to convince herself.

Dog doesn't remember much after waking up in the tent of a small mercenary company led by a half orc named Captain Stonefist. The Captain said she'd lost some people and needed to fill out her ranks. He looked big and strong, and if he could follow orders he could be very useful to her and be well compensated for it.

With little in him besides anger, pain and visions of blood, the man simply did what the Captain told him to do. Dig latrines, no problem. Carry feed for the mules, sure. Kill? Oh yes. He was good at killing. Since he never argued back, Captain Stonefist started to call him her dog. The others in the company adopted the name as well. Dog didn't mind. I felt good to have direction after the broken hole his mind and past was. And he got to kill. He was very good at killing, grabbing a rage he wasn't sure where it came from and harnessing it into a sharp, bloody tool.

The company was about to enter Baldur's Gate, which Dog felt some anticipation towards. That was nice, he hadn't really cared about where they went in the two months since he'd been found by the Captain's scouts. He didn't know why, but it was nice to have a feeling other than rage, or blankness. They never got to enter the city however, as a nautiloid appeared in the sky above them and Dog got grabbed onto the alien ship. Dog didn't really know what to do, but the ilithids and devils were clearly enemies, so he killed them. The woman who called herself Lae'zel that he met seemed to know where they were and how to get away though, so he followed her lead and did what she told him to do. That was familiar. Comfortable. Plus, he got to kill again.

#rpg #oc #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 spoilers #bg3 #bg3 spoilers #dark urge #durge #characters

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priestessofspiders · 6 months

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Howl's well that ends well

(A very special thank you to @arsonsara for feedback and guidance with writing this story) While it may seem surprising in the age of internet storefronts and online auctions, sometimes you do, in fact, need to physically go somewhere in order to purchase things. There are several auction houses which only host their auctions in person, and sometimes millionaires are just too busy to take time out of their hectic schedules of plastic surgeries and cocaine fueled orgies in order to buy some overpriced trinket themselves. That's where I come in.

My name is Mae, I'm a buyer's agent, think of me as a professional bidder. Something will go up for auction, my client will give me a budget, and I'll go try my very best to acquire the item of their desire and keep it in a secure location for a while until it can be safely shipped off to their McMansion. It's not honest work, but it pays the bills, and I've had a lot of opportunities to see some genuinely weird crap in my line of work.

I received a call from a regular of mine, an A-list actress with a passion for old cartoons. She wanted me to get her an original cel from a short by the name of Howl's well that ends well. Evidently she was away on a cruise trip at the time the auction was being held, and thus needed me to purchase it by proxy. I accepted of course, and like I always do I sat down and did a little bit of research on the item I was to acquire.

The cartoon was made right at the end of the era of black and white cartoons, just before that slightly eerie rubberhose aesthetic fell out of style in favor of the technicolor wonderlands of the 40s and 50s. It was a simple story, as such animations usually are, depicting a wolf attempting to catch and eat a rabbit by any means necessary, with increasingly silly results. The cartoon was animated by the rather short lived Crescent Moon Studios, and was one of only two shorts known to have survived the company's collapse in 1939. The other was a mythological themed cartoon known by the title The Shepherd and the Satyr. Both had fallen into the public domain, but nobody had bothered putting up copies on the internet anywhere, after all, they were pretty obscure.

I was given a maximum budget of fifty grand to purchase the cel, which I honestly thought was a little excessive. Sure, it was a rare find, but in the context of an auction, rarity only matters when it is combined with desirability. Technically every toddler's doodle is a one-of-a-kind original work of art, but nobody is going to shell out a million bucks to put it in the Louvre. Unless there was some massive revival in public interest surrounding failed animation studios from the late 30s, I wasn't anticipating needing to spend the full amount my client had authorized.

The auction house was typical of its kind; an opulent temple to the idle rich who have nothing better to do than spend their hoarded wealth on useless garbage. I've never felt comfortable in those sorts of places. While the cut I get is fairly good, it's not enough for me to feel at home rubbing shoulders with CEOs and movie stars. I have this theory that there is a certain stench exuded by those who only own one house, and I can see the pompous plutocrats wrinkle their noses at me whenever I pass by in my cheaply tailored suit.

I settled into my seat alongside the other auction attendees, fiddling nervously with the ends of my sleeves. The rows of comfortable chairs sat before the stage reminded me of vague memories of attending church as a young girl, not comprehending a single word the man in the funny robe was saying when he read out his sermon. Eventually the auctioneer made her way out onto the stage and the song and dance of acquisition began.

It took a while to get to the cel. There seemed to be no end to the parade of antique junk that was available for purchase by my more financially fortunate companions. Jewelry that would never be worn, paintings that would be used to take up space in otherwise artfully minimalist living rooms, and antique weapons to be drooled over by those who view the statistics of mass murder as fun trivia all graced the auction block, happily snatched up by the horde of the idiot rich.

It was by the time I had almost dozed off following a bidding war over some decrepit old tea set that the auctioneer announced the starting bid for an animation cel from Howl's well that ends well at one thousand dollars. Surprisingly, someone immediately offered to pay the opening bid. I was startled to learn that one of these p-zombie nepo babies even knew what a cel was, much less willing to blow a thousand bucks on it. I raised a counter bid, doubling the offer just to see how badly this other bidder wanted it. In turn, they raised the bid to four thousand dollars.

Thus began one of the most baffling bidding experiences I've ever had. This wasn't supposed to be a difficult item to obtain, it should have been a cakewalk, but this other bidder was fighting tooth and nail to acquire it. It was just a bit of cellulose with eighty year old doodles on it for goodness sake! And it's not like we're talking about Steamboat Willy here, I'd never even heard of Howl's well that ends well before I'd gotten the call from my client. Nevertheless, I had been given quite the budget, and it wasn't like it was my money anyway, so I stuck at it until the bitter end. I didn't get a look at the competing bidder at the time, just heard his voice from somewhere behind me. It was a strange voice, there was something wrong about it, something I couldn't quite place.

Forty seven thousand dollars. That's how much of my client's money I wound up paying for the damned thing. That's more money than some folks make in a year, and here I was blowing it on some picture of a cartoon wolf. I was frankly baffled.

I arranged for the payment with one of the clerks and, after everything went through, picked up the cel and started walking to my car. I planned to drive immediately down the storage unit where I keep the items I am paid to acquire until their rightful owners come calling. Holding the cel in my hands gave me a weird feeling, even though it was protected in a rather fancy looking glass case. The older something is, the creepier it gets. You'll never read a haunted house story about some luxury penthouse suite, for example, they'll always be set somewhere ancient and dilapidated. I don't think we like when things get too old for their own good, it reminds us that there was a time before we existed.

The cel itself depicted just the wolf, walking on comically exaggerated tip-toe. There was no backdrop, obviously, the cel would be overlaid on top of the background in order to save time during the animation process, to keep the overworked artists from needing to render every tree and bush over and over ad nauseum. The wolf itself was a typical example of a cartoon character from that era; impossibly flexible limbs, a somewhat lanky appearance, and large eyes with slices taken out of the pupils. It wouldn't have looked out of place in a Fleischer or Disney short.

I found myself staring into those eyes. There was an odd quality to them that I didn't quite like, a kind of intelligence that felt out of place on the exaggerated features of a cartoon. Normally when one stares at something for long enough, you stop being able to properly process it as a coherent image, like when you say a word too many times and it sounds like gibberish. With the wolf though, it felt as though the longer I stared, the more clarity it possessed, the more defined the edges became, the more-

"Excuse me miss, may I have a word?"

The voice caught me off guard, and I nearly dropped the glass case to the floor. I looked up, finding myself in the indoor parking garage where I'd parked my car. In my distracted state, I had nearly gotten all the way to my car without noticing how far I'd walked. Standing before me was a man dressed all in black, with a long overcoat, a thick scarf wrapped around the lower part of his face, large dark sunglasses, and a wide brimmed fedora. His hands were firmly tucked in his pockets.

"Um, sure, can I help you?" I responded, a tad nervous. Did he follow me here? I found myself wondering.

"My apologies, first allow me to introduce myself, my name is Arnold Harrison, how do you do?" His voice was faintly muffled from his scarf, but even then I could make out that there was something wrong. There was something artificial about it, fake, like the voice a clown puts on when performing for children. Despite all the cordiality he was expressing, I felt almost as though he were mocking me.

It took me a moment, but I did recognize the name Arnold Harrison. He was a collector, a cartoon enthusiast, I'd never been employed by him myself but I'd heard a bit about him. Unlike the horde of hedonistic cretins spending their time wasting daddy's money on expensive toys, I actually had a certain level of respect for Harrison. I was dimly aware that he'd written a book at some point on the history of the early animation industry, and in an instant I knew who I had been competing against in the auction house.

"I'm Mae, a pleasure to meet you Mr. Harrison," I said, extending my arm out for a handshake. Harrison looked down at it for a moment, his hand still pressed firmly in his pockets. He didn't move to accept my handshake, keeping some distance away from me, and so I lowered my arm awkwardly.

After an uncomfortable pause, Harrison broke the silence, stating, "I would like very much to offer you a deal, Mae. As you probably noticed during the auction, I am very interested in getting my hands on that cel of yours. It is of great personal importance to me, you understand. I've been led to believe that you are, in fact, working for a client, are you not?"

I nodded my assent, cocking an eyebrow slightly as I wondered where he was going with this.

"In that case, I would like to present you with a counter offer; if you give me that cel, I shall, within the week, be able to present you with a virtually identical cel, a near exact copy. For all intents and purposes, it would be a perfect duplicate, and your employer need never know the difference. In order to ensure your silence on the matter, I would be more than willing to pay you a sum of forty six thousand dollars, cash, up front."

I blinked. Forty six thousand dollars, and all I had to do was hand this stranger some antique squiggles on a highly flammable bit of transparent plastic. It felt too good to be true. There was a lot I could do with that kind of money. My gut was telling me to say yes.

But it was something about that voice. I didn't trust it, it didn't sound like the voice of someone sincerely telling the truth. It sounded like someone telling the setup to a joke. We put so much value into way words are spoken, rather than the actual words themselves. One would never be able to take a politician seriously if they went on stage having just inhaled a balloon full of helium for example. I felt like I was going to be made a victim of some ridiculous prank.

"'I'm terribly sorry," I said, "but I'm afraid I can't do that. Good day Mr. Harrison." I turned to leave, heading towards my car.

A hand gripped my shoulder abruptly.

I wheeled around, yelping slightly from shock, and the hand was off my shoulder in a flash. Harrison was still standing some distance away from me, much too far away to have grabbed me like that. His arm would have had to have stretched like a rubber band. I caught a glimpse of his hand being stuffed into his coat pocket abruptly as soon as he saw me staring. I could have sworn it only had four fingers.

"I'm sorry, I just-" I heard him start to say, but I was already running full sprint towards my car. I made it there in a flash, slamming the door behind me as I carelessly tossed the cel in the front seat. I fiddled with my keys and turned on the engine, reversing out of the parking space and moving to leave as soon as possible.

As I drove towards the exit, I faintly heard Harrison's voice over the echoing engine, shouting out "Please! You don't know what you're dealing with!"

- - -

I made it to the storage facility right at the end of sunset, the sky a bloody red as night came to silently murder the daylight. I'd spent the entire drive trying to rationalize away what I'd seen. Perhaps Harrison had some birth defect, or had suffered an accident. He was probably much closer than I thought, or maybe he jumped back a little when I turned around. Maybe it all really was some elaborate practical joke. There must be a logical explanation.

By the time I was typing in the combination to the storage unit, I'd mostly convinced myself that everything was fine. The door swung open, and I fully intended to set down the cel within the sealed room and lock it all up again so I could go about the rest of my evening in peace. Instead, I found myself staring at the image of that cartoon wolf again, looking into those drawn-on eyes, gazing steadily into those pupils with the slices taken out of them.

I felt an intense compulsion to take the cel out of its case and hold it. It's not quite so unreasonable a desire as one might think. While I'm somewhat embarrassed to admit it, I'd occasionally carefully taken some of the antiques I'd gotten for my clients "out of the box" so to speak, just so I could touch something someone would spend so much money on. There was no logical reason for me to believe this wasn't just me acting on my own desires.

I clicked open the case gently, sliding open the lid. The faint camphor smell of old film wafted out, and I reached my hand inside, gently running a single finger over the smooth, transparent celluloid. As soon as I did so, a faint chill seemed to trickle down my spine, and I quickly stopped what I was doing and hurriedly put the lid back in place. I set the glass case and the cel within onto the floor and closed the door to the storage unit in a hurry, briskly walking back to my car.

Urban parking being what it is, it was something of a walk to get back to where I had left my car. Night had fully fallen by now, and while the streetlamps still shone their uncomfortably bright glow in a pathetic attempt to keep the shadows at bay, the blackness outside their radiance seemed darker than usual. There was a disturbing feeling of anticipation in the air, and I felt a knot in my stomach like that of an actor who has abruptly realized they were never given a script.

The streets were unusually empty. It is common knowledge that when a city gets large enough, the notion that nighttime is meant for sleep is revealed as a woeful misconception. Drunkards, workers on the graveyard shift, and petty criminals abound as soon as the sun recedes, and yet I found the streets utterly devoid of human life aside from myself. Despite my seeming isolation, it wasn't long before the hairs on the back of my neck were standing on end, and I knew that I was not alone.

It took me a while to notice it, a faint echo to my own footsteps that shouldn't be there. Something was keeping exact pace with me. I altered the rhythm of my stride, abruptly doing a slight skip to switch which leg was coming down, and there was a moment briefly where I heard the sound of someone's own footsteps faltering to try and keep up.

I turned around, shouting out "Alright, come on out Harrison. I know it's you."

I was wrong though. It wasn't Arnold Harrison who was following me.

It stepped into the light of the streetlamp almost sheepishly, hands up in a "you got me" gesture. It stood about six feet tall from head to toe. It was staring at me hungrily with those inky black pupils. Pupils with slices taken out of them.

There's no point in beating around the bush any further, no point in trying to play coy. It was the wolf from the cel. It was a black and white cartoon wolf, standing up on two legs, walking towards me with clearly malicious intent. It wasn't some uncanny abomination, the humorous proportions of the animated world translated with horrific effect upon being brought into this three dimensional existence. It just looked like a goddamn cartoon character had somehow magically stepped out of the screen, and somehow that was more existentially horrifying than if it were some bulging-eyed misbegotten atrocity.

Confronted with this violation of all natural law, this impossible, inherently contradictory being, do you know what I did? I pulled out my pepper spray from my pocket and aimed for its stupid, drooling face.

The damn thing just opened its mouth and stuck out its tongue, tasting the spurt of liquid capsaicin as though I had discharged a can of whipped cream at it. As soon as the spray died down to a dribble, the wolf licked its lips before belching out a burst of monochromatic flame, dabbing its lips with a handkerchief it pulled out from nowhere in particular.

I ran of course. I ran for my goddamn life. I felt myself laughing as I did, a fit of giggles bursting involuntarily from my throat because this whole situation was so stupid. The wolf followed close at my heels, snapping its jaws inches away from me with a sound like a mouse trap closing each time it tried to take a bite.

I took a wrong turn in my haste to escape from my animated pursuer, finding myself in an alleyway blocked off by a chain link fence at the end. I turned around to see the wolf smugly stalking its way towards me, legs like rubber hoses strutting confidently forward. I thought I was going to die an utterly pointless, totally absurd death. I backed up against the fence, looking around for anything that could save me. That's when I spotted it.

A banana peel stuck slightly out of a nearby trash can. It was a stupid idea, it shouldn't have worked, but I grabbed it and tossed it on the ground in front of the rapidly approaching wolf. The instant one of its ink-black feet stepped on the peel, the wolf's legs began spinning like blurry bicycle wheels, its arms stretched out to balance itself as a comical "ooOoOohoohoOOO!" emitted from its slavering jaws. I took my opportunity and ran past the demented cartoon, sprinting as fast as I could towards my car.

Fortunately the alley was quite close to where I had parked, and I managed to hop into the driver's seat and start the ignition fast enough to get out of there. Looking in my rear view mirror, I spotted the wolf hold out its thumb for a taxi cab, but the streets remained empty as ever, and I was luckily saved from the embarrassment of having to indulge in some kind of wacky car chase sequence with my nonsensical pursuer.

I wish that was the end of this story. That my client picked up the cel, I got a good shrink to prescribe me some happy pills, and I got out of this situation with nothing more unpleasant than a lifelong distaste for old cartoons. Unfortunately, the universe is not, despite what some desperate idiots may insist, a kind place. Three things ensured that my life would be far more complicated than I would have otherwise preferred.

Firstly, my client refused to answer my calls. Her voice mail message informed me she was "taking a break from the screens to focus on the important things in life". Good for her I suppose, though I imagine it's rather easy to turn off the screens when you're enjoying a multi-week cruise on a mega yacht the size of Alcatraz.

Secondly, the wolf didn't stop after just one night. No sirree, this was one persistent bastard, and it didn't take long for the canine caricature to figure out where I lived. As for how it discovered my address, I have no idea. Perhaps it checked the yellow pages, that seems to be an appropriately stupid method. Regardless, I rapidly found myself spending each sleepless night fending off the attacks of a cartoon wolf.

The wolf's nocturnal visits were equal parts ridiculous and terrifying. It didn't operate on the same fundamental logic as the universe the rest of us live in, it belonged to a world of falling anvils and comically oversized wooden hammers, a world where the rules of slapstick have more meaning than the laws of physics. The first time it got into the house it hopped down the chimney in a black and white Santa Claus outfit and gestured for me to jump into a similarly colorless leather sack that it held open for me oh-so politely. I fired a taser at it, and I saw its skeleton flash through its unconvincing disguise as the monochromatic menace jolted about spasmodically. Eventually it fell to the ground, inky lines of smoke drifting up from its contorted body, and I ran out the door, hopped into my car, and drove straight down to the police station. I didn't have time to grab my cell phone to dial 911, I didn't want to spend another instant in the house with that stupid wolf.

I didn't tell the police that my home invader was a cartoon character of course, because I'm not a moron and would prefer not to spend the rest of my days in a nice padded room wearing a comfortable straitjacket, thank you very much. Instead I just said there was someone in my house, I thought I had incapacitated them, and I wanted an officer to check it out.

They didn't find the wolf of course, and while they couldn't confirm if anyone had broken into the house, they were at least able to confirm the presence of an intruder by the marks they had left getting out; a cartoon wolf shaped hole in the wall.

I spent two weeks dealing with this wolf. Two. Weeks. Two weeks of desperately trying to contact my client about the cel. Two weeks of fitfully sleeping only during the day. Two weeks of spending my nights in paranoid vigilance against an impossible intruder. I began taking to renting various cheap motels for a single night at a time, out of a desperate hope that maybe it wouldn't be able to find me there. It was a pipe dream of course, it always found me, and I'd always have to find some new ridiculous way to stop it.

The only thing that would even temporarily stop the damn thing was playing by its own rules. Whacking it over the skull with a frying pan would cause it to collapse to the ground with an egg-sized lump on its forehead, chirping birds circling its head as spirals formed in its eyes. Stomping on its toe would make it yowl in exaggerated pain as it hopped up and down on one foot. I once managed to get away from it one night by ducking into a public restroom and pointing at the "Women's" sign on the door, at which the wolf got embarrassed and waited politely for me to finish my business. I stayed there until the sun rose. It never stuck around during the day.

I did say three things changed my life for the worse, and the third is easily the one that has been the most profoundly upsetting. I began to notice... changes. Subtle ones at first. I've always had a faint West Coast accent, but as my encounters with the wolf continued, I found my voice dipping into the tones of stereotypical valley girl more often than not. The pitch changed too, raising from the sightly gravelly vocal fry I was used to into a high pitched squeak.

I used to smoke on occasion, not anything major, maybe a single cigarette a day at the most, but now I was finding myself with one constantly stuck in my mouth. It wasn't a situation of my addiction increasing due to stress, no, I never bought any fresh packs. They would literally seem to appear, already lit, when I wasn't paying attention. My skin began to turn paler too, my hair darker, the dark brown transforming into an inky black.

It was when I looked in the mirror one day and saw my pupils had slices taken out of them that I knew I had to do something drastic. I didn't care if it cost me my damn career, I didn't care if I spent the whole rest of my life flipping burgers on minimum wage, living out of my car; I refused to let myself turn into a goddamn cartoon.

I drove myself down to the storage facility. By this point I had been hopping from hotel to hotel so much that it took me until nightfall to reach it, which meant that the wolf would have a chance to try and stop me. I didn't care, I had a job to do. I wasn't going to let my humanity get stolen just because I was scared of some atrociously abnormal animated asshole.

I parked right in front of the facility next to a red painted curb. They could tow my car away and melt it down for all I cared. All that mattered was getting to that cel. As soon as I began marching towards the front gates, I heard a sharp whistle blow through the nighttime silence, and I turned to see the wolf, dressed in an old fashioned police uniform, writing what looked to be a parking ticket in a notepad. I flipped it the finger and began to run for my storage unit, looking back just in time to see the wolf speeding towards me, the uniform left behind still floating in the air from how quickly it leapt out of it.

But I was faster now, I felt lighter. My every step was bouncier and more energetic, and I found a wild grin growing across my face, perhaps an inch or so wider than it may have been before, a cigarette clenched tight between my pearly white, perfectly straight teeth. I used to have quite the crooked set of chompers, and my dentist always got onto me about how little I flossed, but right now supernaturally enhanced dental hygiene was hardly my biggest concern.

I managed to skid to a stop (with the appropriate sound effect of course) right in front of the storage unit, and rapidly entered the combination. I knew that the wolf was close behind me, because the wolf would always be close behind me. It was in his very nature, as was mine to escape in the very nick of time. Hunter and fox, cat and mouse, wolf and rabbit.

I swung open the heavy steel door and stomped the glass case at my feet to fragments, grabbing the cel with a flourish as the wolf tripped over my extended leg and slid to a stop on the metal floor. Pulling the lit cigarette from my mouth, I touched it to the cellulose image and winked. "That's all folks" I muttered as the translucent image caught fire in an instant.

As soon as the cel began to burn, so too did the wolf, engulfed in white hot flames as it howled in apparent agony. It didn't take long before the howls faded away, and all that was left was a wolf-shaped outline of ash on the floor of the storage unit.

"I'll be honest with ya, I wasn't sure that was going to work!" I said to nobody in particular as I shut the door to the unit once again. I clapped my hands together, partially to clean off the ashes, but more to signify the conclusion of a job well done.

I drove home and collapsed on the couch, exhausted.

And if we lived in a kind and loving universe that is where the story would have ended. But, of course, we do not.

I turned on the TV, desperate to drink in some mindless garbage to distract my brain from the question of how I would explain away the destruction of the cel to my client. Flipping to a random channel, I was greeted with the image of a cartoon wolf sneaking along to a jaunty tune.

Obviously it wasn't the wolf from Howl's well that ends well, that would be ridiculous. No TV channel is broadcasting obscure cartoon shorts from the 30s, not even at that hour. The wolf was in color, the art style was different, it must have been an adaptation of Three Little Pigs or something. But it didn't matter. It reminded me of my wolf, and I felt rage bubble up in my chest. My eyes narrowed, and I felt as though steam was blowing out of my ears. Who knows, maybe it did.

I pulled out a baseball bat and began smashing it into the TV set over and over again, gibbering incoherently and laughing as I did so, sparks flying from the ruined mess of plastic and glass. By the time I finished swinging, the mass of steaming debris was barely recognizable as a television.

As I stood there, hunched over, catching my breath, I looked down at the baseball bat I had used to destroy the TV. I don't own a baseball bat. I never have. Even if I did have one, how could I have gotten it so quickly? It's not like there is room for it in my pockets, and I didn't run off to some closet to grab it, it wasn't leaning against the couch when I came in.

Walking into the bathroom, I confirmed what I already knew.

My skin was still deathly pale, nearly white now, my hair was still black. When I reached up to touch my face, I found that my hand had only four fingers.

As I gazed upon my caricatured reflection in the mirror, a thought clawed at the synapses of my brain, a shock to the system like a firm handshake with a hand-buzzer; I still didn't feel alone. Ever since that freakishly fiendish fleaball had turned my life upside down, I'd felt as though I was being watched, being followed everywhere I went. I just assumed it was the horror of pursuit, the terror of being prey. But I think it's more than that.

The thing about humor is that it's all relative isn't it? If you tell a joke and nobody is around to hear it, well, chances are you aren't going to get any laughs, are you? The whole purpose of a cartoon is to entertain an audience, to make us laugh at the zany antics of those larger than life characters as they go about their impossible, ridiculous existence. Without anyone watching them, they have no purpose, no reason to exist. All of their power comes from the laughs they give their audience.

So I'm asking you now, dear reader; who is watching me, and how do I get them to stop?

#horror #nosleep #horror fiction #writers on tumblr #writeblr #halloween

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nycnomad · 1 year

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So it was a couple of weeks into December when we decided that moving to Poland was probably too big a step for us. At the same time, I found out that my company would pay me $20k to move out of NYC, but I had to do it by December 31st. Obviously, we were like, “Should we move to Florida immediately?!”

I would get paid 15% less if we lived outside of NYC, but there’s no income tax in Florida, and the cost of living is of course much cheaper. Like, our condo in NYC costs about $1250/sqft, while our condos in Florida cost about $575/sqft. A cocktail in NYC is $16 at the very cheapest, while I can get a cocktail in our area of Florida for $10. Plus, whatever stock I get from my company while I live in NYC, the state will collect tax on it when I sell it even if I’m living in Florida at the time. It doesn’t make sense to earn money in NYC!

So we really, really started to talk about moving down to one of our Florida condos. We went out to dinner with J’s two best friends and told them what we were thinking, and I kind of thought they’d freak out, but they were actually like, “Good for you! Go live by the beach!”

We talked to my cousin, who’s a realtor, about selling our NYC condo. How much we could get, if December is a terrible time to sell, if he would interview some NY real estate agents for us. We considered officially moving our address to Florida but hanging onto our condo until the spring when buyers are more motivated.

J told his parents what we were thinking, and I emailed a former boss of mine who recently moved from NJ to FL to ask what I would miss and if he regrets anything. I asked my current manager, who left San Francisco during the worst of COVID and bought a massive house in New Orleans, what to expect when moving from a huge city to the middle of nowhere. She said to expect a much better quality of life. 🙂

We were so serious about selling! But then J started having second thoughts. He’s lived in NYC most of his life, and he doesn’t feel comfortable around smalltown things like I do. Like, to me, there’s nothing more homey than a strip mall sushi bar with ample parking and all-white decor that stays white because 8.5 million people don’t live in the area. To J, it’s stifling.

He started thinking about how we’d never have any true friends in Florida, because everyone in our area is old and conservative. Our neighbors are all super nice, friendly for sure, but we’re just never going to be really close with people who are worried about trans people in their bathrooms or don’t think black lives matter. I, of course, said that any of our friends from back home will jump at the chance for a free stay at the beach whenever we offer. And that his parents would love to host us in NYC whenever we were willing to visit.

I didn’t actually hate the idea of visiting NYC a few times a year and doing all of our favorite things. What fun to have a whirlwind week of lavish dinners and fancy drinks with our closest friends and maybe even do touristy things we never did while we lived there!

But the final straw for J was that when we go on international trips, we always go on tours (mostly food tours, let’s be honest) where we meet people from all over the world. And there will always be someone in the group who’s lived in NYC or loves NYC, and I’m going to be honest, it feels like we usually get special attention because of it. And J said he just couldn’t imagine telling people that we’re from FLORIDA. 😂 It’s so funny, because he doesn’t usually like the limelight at all, and yet he apparently likes that a Berlin tour guide might take a shine to us!

So to him, the $20k wasn’t worth it to have to say goodbye to New York RIGHT NOW, and I understand where he’s coming from. All this to say, I still officially live in NYC. But you can bet I’m enjoying the month and a half we’re in Florida this winter!

#apologies for this long story that went nowhere!

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hughrlgrosvenor11 · 2 months

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I wonder... if in the moments of our ups and downs, we look at the stars or the stars look at people!?!... Probably... three years ago, having fallen in love with him, I simply saw the light of a long-extinguished star...

...You know, creating these NFTs a year ago, I decided to do something cute and share with all of you information about various airdrops, trends and directions in NFT art and all the cool hype that was happening with new tokens and cryptocurrencies (esp. on #solanablockchain), but... Fate decreed otherwise...

A few days ago, looking again at all these and other art objects... TBH... I just "couldn’t raise my hand" to delete it all...

... Therefore, I also decided to do something good for all of you... Over these 4 years, I have realized that each of you is a unique person with many hidden and obvious advantages. I believe in you all and hope your dreams come true!...

... Therefore, I decided to release this #NFTcollection, which I hope will bring you all pleasure... (Although I am deeply not sure that any of you still need him)... However, I want to sell it all, pay taxes, deduct money for the creation of this collection, and give the remaining money to charity.... And at the same time, I wanted to do something nice for you all...

+ I remembered the words of my great-grandmother to my mother.... At one time, one of my great-grandmothers (during the revolution) was saved from execution by the poorest relatives, hiding her with them... During her life, she completely changed her name, surname and date of birth three times, but ... despite the difficulties, sorrows and trials (she experienced), she forever remained faithful to the traditions of her country and religion... People melted down several gold family jewelry (which she had saved) into more terrible ones, and she was gradually selling the removed precious stones and bought food and livestock for poor people during the famine... Once in childhood, my mother asked her a question: “why you didn’t keep one of the alexandrites for yourself? as a memory of our family?", and She replied: “The main thing is not what family you came from, but how people will remember you!!!”...

...IF... Any of you wants to become THE ART AGENT for this NFT collection, then... here are my conditions: (as an art agent you will receive) —>

-3% of the transaction of any NFT ART you sell (if NFT ART is sold within 2 year), -7% - if NFT ART is sold within 4 months (*from the date of your participation in it as an art agent), - 10% - if NFT ART is sold within 2 months, -15%- if NFT ART is sold within 2 weeks!

+ if in some incredible way this NFT collection is sold in its entirety within two years, then each of THE ART AGENTS (of this NFT collection) will receive an additional 1% of the entire cost of the NFT collection!!! (I can only take 5 ART AGENTS. I hope for your understanding, all the details you can get here in DMS)

... I will also think about all kinds of bonuses for my subscribers here and bonuses for buyers (a very special bonus for the first buyer, special bonuses for the first 100 wallets and, of course, a nice cashback) + a draw for free NFTs from the bonus collection....

PS. —> The first 5 people who guess the right number of NFTs (created specifically for this video) will receive 1 NFT-art from the bonus collection completely free!!! (3 months after the first few sales of NFT-arts from the main NFT collection) (write me your right answer in DMs here) The number of guessing attempts is 3!!! <—

PS2. —> GIRLS, please DO NOT FALL IN LOVE with the man on my NFT ARTS, because HE does not exist in reality!!! ↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓ THIS NFT CHARACTER IS COMPLETELY THE ARTIST'S FANTASY!!! ↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓↓ ANY COINCIDENCES WITH ANY REAL PERSON ARE RANDOM AND UNINTENTIONAL!!! <—

Have a nice day to you all and may God bless you all and your Families. :)

PS3. Well, 🐽, your 🇬🇧 🐨🐨🐨🐨🐨🐨🐨🐨🐨 and other people are right that at least once in your life it will be useful for you to feel like 💼✈!?! https://www.instagram.com/p/C3bIfQdhx8M/

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ashs-random-writing · 2 years

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A Haunted Home

~~~~~

Virgil had been in the house for a few years. Of course he had, he had died there, he couldn't leave. What he really didn't like was people in his house. He would do quite a lot to get them out, but one thing he would not do was hurt them. He wasn't a monster.

Patton, Logan and Roman were just looking for a nice new house to live in, but they found a new-ish mansion-sized house that came with a friend. Of course, they moved in

~~~~~

Virgil floated aimlessly as the fifth group that month was touring his house to buy. He didn’t really care anymore, most didn’t buy it, and even if they did, he could just scare them out.

Might as well start early, he supposed, starting to mess with things in the room the humans were about to tour, which happened to be the kitchen. He picked up some of the knives from a drawer, wondering how easy it would be to spontaneously start practicing knife throwing. It wasn’t like he could get hurt..

He put the knives down, concluding that he might hurt someone living. He may not want them in his house, but he wouldn’t hurt them. He started looking through the cabinets for something, only finding pots and pans. He sighed

“I guess these’d work” he mused to himself quietly, starting to bang them together and throw them around. He heard the real estate agent sigh loudly from the next room

“Pay no mind to those noises, it’s nothing really” They stated, pretty convincingly

The real estate agents had figured out that the place was haunted pretty early on, so Virgil had lots of fun messing with them whilst they were looking through the house, or showing people around. They weren’t too bad, really

When Virgil was alive, he had built a fake wall into the house, to make it easier to not get murdered in his sleep, so his bedroom was pretty well hidden. The real estate agents found it and left it alone, not wanting to upset the ghost. Virgil was happy for that, it wouldn’t feel like home if his room was gone. He needed his things. Different was always bad.

And, the agents never showed it to potential buyers, which Virgil was sure could get them fired if their higher-ups ever found out, so he was grateful for that. It was still fun to mess with them, but never the same extent that he did to people who tried to get him out, or perform an exorcism or something

The exorcisms had never worked of course, but they were still unpleasant and annoying.

He zoned back in to listen to the humans question the noise again

“It’s just the ghost, don’t worry. He tends to try chase people away, but it’s mostly just throwing things at walls like a toddler” The last part was louder than the rest of it, obviously aimed to lightly insult him, before continuing “All the people who have lived here only move because they’re freaked out, he never hurts anyone, so you’d be safe, don't worry”

He rolled his eyes, sent them the middle finger, and threw one more pan at the wall before floating off to his room. He could still hear the humans-

He paused his thinking for a second, instead mulling over the fact that his brain kept referring to them as ‘the humans’. Was he not human anymore? His subconscious didn’t seem to think so. He could barely remember what solidity felt like.. He never really felt human to begin with, honestly, so it wasn’t that much of a change

Virgil shook his head, returning to his thought. He could still hear them in the other room, conversing, mostly about him. The real estate agent (Jamie, he remembered) had gone into the kitchen to clean up the mess he had made.

Virgil listened to the humans conversation idly, chuckling at one of their insistences that ghosts weren’t real

There were three humans in total touring the house, each of them being very different from each other. The one who was denying seemed extremely serious, for no particular reason, almost reminding Virgil of his old teacher. The next was rather loud and kept making Disney references, to the point that Virgil had started mentally calling him Princey, and claiming that there couldn’t be a ghost because ‘Ghosts are evil, except for Moana’s grandmother’

Virgil rolled his eyes at that one, still listening to them through the wall

The third seemed rather cheerful, almost too cheerful for Virgil’s tastes. He kept saying how “if there is a ghost, it’s like the house comes with a friend! Besides, I’m just dying to meet them”

He could almost imagine the sunny grin on his face when he said that, and he heard one of the other two humans groan at the pun. Virgil laughed

“Patton, was there really any need to make a pun for the supposed ghost? We’re the only ones who would be living here if we bought the house, you wouldn’t be meeting anyone except maybe a few neighbours”

Virgil rolled his eyes for what felt like the millionth time, still laughing

“Come on, Lo, I know you don’t like puns, but hearing a few ghost puns won’t.. kill.. you” Another groan was heard behind two people’s laughter

“Besides, how do you explain what happened earlier if there’s no ghost?” ‘Patton’ asked

The serious one sighed “Perhaps something simply fell out of a cabinet and Jamie made something up to make the house seem more interesting? Regardless, I do think it would be a good investment to buy this house, it is large enough for all of us to live comfortably, and still is in budget” Virgil froze at that, they were gonna buy the house?

He needed to start planning how to chase them away right that very second. He liked living alone, and these humans seemed interesting now, but Virgil knew they’d hate him after a while. They all did eventually, even when he was living

He wasn’t the type to talk a lot, or look people in the eyes, but he was good at listening, contrary to what people believed, and he stored everything he was told in the back of his mind for future reference, but everyone always left

He couldn’t get attached to these humans, they were gonna hate him and leave, so he should save them the effort and make them leave immediately.

He stayed in his room a while until they left, only coming out when he was sure the only person still there was Jamie

Jamie was sat in the kitchen on her phone, and laughing quietly at some video. Virgil decided he should probably apologise for causing a mess and throwing stuff around.

He couldn’t exactly talk to them, so maybe just giving them something would work. He had a small rock collection in his room, and he had seen Jamie looking at them sometimes, and he figured that she would appreciate one of them.

He picked up one of them, shaped vaguely like a dinosaur of some kind, before floating out of his room to give it to the human. He held it out to them, and they smiled

“Is this for me?” He held it out more persistently and she took it, grinning.

“Thank you, it’s very cool. Is this because of earlier?” They held it to their chest whilst asking. Virgil didn’t know how to respond, so he just stayed floating there for a while, until Jamie eventually left

---

Logan looked back at the house as he and his friends drove away, thinking. He definitely did not believe the talk of a supposed ‘ghost’, noises be damned, but the house was interesting, and a reasonable price.

He watched the road ahead steadily, as the others conversed about how fun the house would be once they bought it, and how they would decorate it. Logan pitched in on a few points, mainly how he would decorate his space, and mentioning how nonsensical it was to argue about who gets what room in a house that they might not even buy.

He rolled his eyes fondly, before opening his book from the backseat of their car. Soon, they arrived at their current apartment, which was much too cramped to fit them all comfortably, hence why they were house hunting.

They had been saving up for quite a while, so it was quite a relief to find a nice house that was actually in budget for once. It was a few weeks later when they actually managed to buy it, and a few weeks after that when they managed to finish moving in.

He started moving his things into his room, listening to Roman and Patton’s Disney discussions. Once he had gotten every piece of furniture in place, he started organizing his books on his shelf, and getting his better stuff in place. Once he had everything perfectly placed, he went into the kitchen area to help Roman and Patton with the food, which was a lot easier when there was more room to move around then a tiny room in a tiny apartment.

After they’d all eaten, a few hours later, they all went back to their respective rooms, until a loud shriek sounded from Roman. Logan and Patton both went to investigate, only to find all of the louder man’s Disney merchandise strewn about the room as if it had been thrown (which, of course, it had not been, Roman would never do such a thing and ghosts didn’t exist).

“That damn ghost! He couldn’t just leave my precious Disney stuff alone, could he?” Roman crossed his arms, glaring at one of his many figurines on the floor

Logan sighed “Roman, is it not at all possible that they merely fell off of the shelf? I have already explained the statistical improbability of a ghost residing here”

Roman glared at him “Oh, yes, because all of my Disney stuff, and only my Disney stuff, would just randomly fall and end up on the complete opposite side of the room, how is that more logical than a ghost?” He looked away angrily, starting to pick up the fallen figures (because, yes, they merely fell, there was not a ghost, Logan thought to himself)

Logan and Patton both started helping and it took, at most, two minutes to put everything in the correct places, but Roman still seemed unhappy

“Something’s missing..” He looked over the figures slowly. Suddenly, he gasped

“My Jack Skellington figure! He must’ve taken it! I was right, ghosts are evil!” he pouted

Logan rolled his eyes, the figurine had likely just rolled under a bed or dressing table. The imaginary ghost wouldn’t have taken it, anyway. He walked back to his own room, only to find that whilst he and Patton were helping Roman, someone had thrown all of his stuff all over the room

He took a deep breath, his things had merely fallen. He looked around and- there! The window was open. A perfectly logical answer to his conundrum. Ghosts didn’t exist, so he needed to reason away from them and towards logic

His room’s door slammed shut and locked. It was fine, just the wind, that he… couldn’t feel at all…

He attempted to pull the latch on the door, but instead of being the easy feat it was an hour ago, it now felt as though someone was holding it shut, which, of course, was preposterous, no one but him was in his room, and the latch could not be touched or even seen from the outside

He eventually managed to open it, and leave, only to reconsider his stance on ghosts. Perhaps… maybe.. ghosts could exist. Theoretically.

---

Virgil found it hilarious how easy it was to annoy these humans. The loud one, Roman, had so much Disney stuff, and it was too easy to make a mess in there. Besides, the dude had a pretty cool Nightmare Before Christmas figurine that Virgil decided would look amazing underneath his posters.

Despite everything, the more serious one still denied that Virgil existed, so he decided that a little prank whilst he was helping Roman sort his stuff out was a little necessity

He had seen him painstakingly place each and every thing to perfection, and decided that that’s where he’d start. He threw everything quietly, before waiting for the nerd to reappear.

When Logan arrived, he looked around quickly, before his eyes settled on the window and he nodded to himself. Virgil groaned, he had spent a while on that, so to have it written off as the wind was pretty annoying

He slammed the door loudly and closed the latch

“Good luck blaming that on the wind, nerd” he glared at Logan, as the latter turned around warily, looking a little bit shaken

He walked closer and tried the latch, which Virgil was holding shut, laughing to himself. He shivered slightly as the human’s hand went through his when he was messing with the mechanism

Eventually, Virgil let go, watching as Logan walked through and started breathing mildly more intensely than when he was inside. Virgil closed the door behind him and closed the latch once again, before floating down to his own room and fixing his Nightmare Before Christmas display and his new addition.

It didn’t bother him very much that the figure was technically stolen, it wasn’t the first time he had illegally acquired a new item. Most of the time when that happened it was when he was more down on his luck, needing to.. borrow.. food and drinks from a store, but Karma seemed to think that was bad enough to punish him

He had gotten a large inheritance from his great uncle, and had managed to buy a big-ish house, get a fake wall built in, before the burglar arrived.

He was binging some Netflix show on his couch, in the middle of the night, and the robber probably assumed he’d be asleep. He probably should’ve been, maybe then he wouldn’t still be floating around. The thief might’ve not found him, might’ve assumed he wasn’t home and left with just some stuff, not his body. He had watched the body be carried out, presumably to the river half a mile south

His murder was never solved as far as he knew, so that could explain why he was still here, floating around and just annoying everyone. He sighed, looking around his room, specifically at the signs of no one living there

He looked at the cobwebs that had shown up just about everywhere, the spiders that lived in them, the thick layers of dust that was settled over most of his belongings, apart from his new figurine.

He could hear the voices of the humans conversing directly above him, and he rolled his eyes, starting to reread one of his few books. He knew what was going to happen in it, so it was comforting. He had annotated it when he was alive so he would find it more amusing on future reads. Now, it surely helped him not go insane at least, but it had gotten pretty boring pretty quickly

He started listening to the noise above him, what the humans were discussing. He decided that they were probably discussing the door he had locked from the inside, if the declarations of being correct from Roman was any indication. Patton had started trying to mediate the situation, trying to stop the bubbling argument between them. Virgil felt tempted to go up there and stop it himself, they were getting annoying, how did Patton put up with that? Hell, how did any of them live with each other if this was how often they argued?

He acted on the temptation with minimal hesitation, throwing a small object at the wall between the humans

Patton reached out to catch it, fumbling with it a bit, before dropping it, albeit gentler than Virgil did

“Hey, uh, Ghost, could you not throw that, please? It’s made of glass, and pretty fragile, so, uh.. Anyway, I’m Patton, what’s your name?” Patton asked, usual sunny grin on his face. Virgil kinda felt bad that he couldn’t answer in a way that Patton could hear.

He answered anyway, just so he could say he tried

“Virgil.. My name’s Virgil”

Quite predictably, they didn’t hear him. He frowned, he had kinda wanted that to work.. He shook his head rapidly. No, he didn’t want that to work, he wanted the humans to leave, he didn’t want to be their friend. Not when he knew they’d have to leave him at some point. Ghosts were eternal, humans were not

Patton’s grin dimmed slightly at the perceived silence

“Are you still there? If you are, would you be able to hold something, so we’ll know?” Virgil nodded, mostly to himself, picking up another small object

Before Patton could reply, Roman jumped in, pointing at his general direction

“Aha, fiend! Tell me where you’ve taken my figure!” Virgil rolled his eyes and threw the thing in his hand at him. Roman gasped in offence, as Virgil started floating away

He went down to his room, going back to his book boredly. The nerd had some pretty cool looking books, maybe he could take one of them. Virgil sighed to himself, deciding that everything would just be miserable for eternity if this was what got him excited. He didn’t know how it wouldn’t be.

He could still hear them talking but he stopped listening. Let them talk, he thought, let them talk about him, he couldn’t stop it either way. They weren’t arguing this time, so he just concentrated on reading again. He got bored pretty quickly and started concentrating on his ghost abilities a little bit more.

If he really concentrated he could keep a visible form, but not well. He could be seen, but he was still mostly invisible, you’d still be able to see the wall behind him before you’d notice him, really. He looked at himself in the mirror sadly, specifically the blood covering his chest. He wondered what he would be doing if he hadn’t died. Probably binging Netflix again, honestly. He could hear the humans again, this time a little closer than before.

Virgil, once again, paid it no mind, instead going into what he called ‘ghost sleep mode’

It wasn’t really sleeping, it was more disappearing from the plane of existence he was currently on for a few hours, and replaying memories from life, the happiest ones specifically. There wasn’t really a lot to play for him, he hadn’t had a very happy life

He was shown bits and pieces from childhood, that time a nice old woman paid for all his groceries when his card declined, the time he bought his house. When he started decorating his room, the first time his hair was cut short, the time the neighbour’s kids invited him to play with them, memories of his old friends before they left him, fractions of bittersweet memories.

It was a while before he reformed in the living world, and as usual he was accompanied by a small flash of light. He rubbed at his eyes, and looked at the clock. He’d been in the in-between for five hours just about, making it 11:30 pm.

The humans should be asleep by then, right? Well, maybe not Logan, since Virgil had locked him out of his room, but the others probably were. Maybe. He wasn’t really one to judge other people’s sleeping habits, since his own messed up one was what had gotten him killed in the first place

He floated up to where their bedrooms were, checking on them, making sure they were safe. He didn’t like them, but for now, they were sorta like guests, so he had to keep them safe. Logan was asleep next to his door, and Virgil finally gave in, unlocking the door for him. Logan needed to sleep in his bed, if he didn’t then Virgil would be worrying that what happened to him would become a shared experience

The door swung open, but Logan still didn’t stir from his sleep. Virgil looked at him a while before sighing and grabbing the back of his shirt and dragging him towards his bed. If that’s what it took to make them be a little bit more safe, then sure, he’d do it

Logan finally woke up, starting to struggle against his grip. Virgil let go, dropping him unceremoniously on the floor

Logan looked around a bit, before talking quietly “Were you- were you trying to make me go to bed?”

Virgil would be blushing in embarrassment if he had any moving blood, but instead, he threw something at the human and flew back to his bedroom as quickly as possible. He buried his face in his hands

He didn’t care about the humans, he wanted them to leave, he didn’t care about them. He didn’t care for them, he couldn’t care for them. He- he just couldn’t. They’d leave, they’d move out, they’d hate him, if they died, they wouldn’t be ghosts with him, they would just die, they’d go to the afterlife and he wouldn’t be able to follow. No matter what, they’d leave him eventually.

---

Patton didn’t really know what to think of the ghost, really. He seemed to keep to himself a lot, only throwing stuff around, just like Jamie had said.

He seemed to have calmed down after a while. Patton noticed that he left them alone for a while until they started arguing, which was when he showed up. When Patton had tried talking to him, he had seemed content to chill until Roman provoked him..

He went to sleep with these thoughts in mind.

It wasn’t long ‘til he woke up. He went down to the kitchen groggily, intent on fixing up some breakfast for everyone. A few minutes after his first batch of pancakes, Logan walked in, looking a bit bewildered

“The ghost was trying to drag me into my bed last night” was the first thing he said

Patton looked up “Uh, could you explain that more, Logan? What do you mean”

Logan looked at him with wide eyes, seemingly trying to also make sense of what happened “well, the ghost had locked my door, as you know, so I had fallen asleep on the corridor next to my room, but I woke up to something invisible dragging me into my room, towards my bed. I asked the ghost if that’s what he was doing, but he just threw something at me. I- I think he might’ve been embarrassed..” Logan sat at the table as he was given a plate of pancakes and some jam

Patton thought for a moment “Well, let’s be glad that he’s such a thoughtful ghost and not an ‘I’m gonna make the walls bleed and stuff’ type ghost”

Roman soon came bounding down the stairs with all the energy of a toddler on a sugar high

“Good morning, Patton, Nerd” He nodded to them happily, grabbing a plate of pancakes and sitting diagonal to Logan at the table, “I am happy to report that the ghost was not tormenting me or committing thievery against me last night!” he exclaimed loudly

Patton smiled “That’s great, kiddo! Logan says that the ghost was trying to drag him into his bed last night when he was sleeping in the corridor, so I think he might not be as bad as you seem to think,” He smiled, making more pancakes

Roman scoffed “For nefarious, evil purposes probably” He mumbled, crossing his arms and looking away

“Name one ‘nefarious and evil’ thing that he could’ve been doing that for” Logan countered

“Uh, he could’ve been trying to get you in another room so he could make a ginormous mess” Roman stated matter-of-factly, a smug look adorning his face

Patton spoke up “Well, that doesn’t seem to be the case, does it? He’s not done anything when he’s been left alone, so I personally don’t think he’s all that bad” he shrugged, sitting down with his pancakes

Roman scoffed “He stole from me!”

Logan shook his head “You don’t have any proof of that, besides, even if he did, he only took one small figurine, that hardly qualifies as robbery”

“One small figurine that I bought! And he just took it!” Roman crossed his arms, glaring at his nearly empty plate

“Well, we are living in his house, so its kinda fair” Patton pointed out, trying to stop the argument that was brewing.

Roman simply stormed off, muttering angrily to himself, and Logan shook his head, making a comment about ‘childish behaviour’. Patton didn’t really hear what was being said, he was too busy feeling guilty. He didn’t want to make Roman upset..

He walked upstairs to his room, almost in a trance, before collapsing into the bed, crying. He just had to get involved in the argument, didn’t he? He couldn’t leave it alone, could he? He felt a small chill go through him, but he paid it no mind, instead just hugging a stuffed cat to his chest as tight as humanly possible

He wiped his eyes, or tried to at least. He should’ve been happy, they had a new house, his own room, he should’ve been happy, not upset. He could feel someone looking at him, but he hadn’t heard the door open. He turned around warily, only to see a floating stuffed bat that he had never seen before

The ghost, he realised suddenly. He looked at the plushie for a few moments before asking “Is that for me?”

The plushie was set on his bed next to him, as a paper and pen started writing with what seemed like no one holding them. He read the note that was handed to him and started smiling

‘its for you, her name is Trylla, take good care of her and please don’t be sad

-V’

The rest of the name was scribbled out, but Patton didn’t mind. If he didn’t want to share his name he didn’t have to

“Thank you, Vee, she’s very cute, I love her!” he hugged Trylla to his chest protectively. Another thought popped into his head

“Oh! Uh, Roman is pretty convinced that you took something from him, so, um, if you did, would you be able to give it back? He’s really upset about it” There was no response, but he decided to hope that the ghost was listening

He started re-watching one of his comfort shows on Netflix, still hugging the bat to his chest. A few episodes later, Roman came bursting in, figurine in hand

“Patton, look! The ghost returned my figure! This proves that he took it” he had a smug look on his face, and Patton sighed

“Yes, but it also proves that he was nice enough to return it when I asked him, and look, he gave me something. I think you’re wrong about him, honestly. He doesn’t seem very evil to me” He held up the purple bat to him as proof, before hugging it again

Roman rolled his eyes “Fine, I guess I can admit he’s not too bad, but you gotta admit, it’s pretty interesting. Where is his storage space? All the rooms were cleaned out, so where did he get that bat thing? Where did he take my figure? I think we should try find it” Roman seemed to be getting excited at the idea

Patton was less excited “Wouldn’t that be an invasion of privacy?”

“It would be an adventure, that’s what it would be! Besides, we own the house, not him, we can go wherever we want”

Patton frowned slightly, he didn’t quite know why invading someone’s privacy would be an adventure, but there was lots that he didn’t know, so he kept quiet

---

Virgil was panicking. Why’d he have to do that? If he hadn’t of given that stuffed animal to Patton, he wouldn’t have given Roman his figure back, meaning that they wouldn’t get the idea to try find his room

What was he supposed to do, though? He saw one of the humans crying, he gave them a stuffed animal, simple, right? Wrong. Apparently, he couldn’t do anything nice for the people he was letting stay in his house, without them deciding to try find the one place in the house that still felt like it was his.

Of course.

In his panic, he couldn’t even work up the energy to make himself tangible enough to throw something at Roman, instead floating down to his room and sitting on his bed. How bad would it actually be if they found him? He was foolish to believe his space would last long, but he was still reluctant to imagine that they could take it from him.

If he was able to touch breathing things, he could probably push them out, fight them, but he couldn’t. He could touch their clothes, but even that took more effort than other things. He grabbed a comfort item and held it to his chest as tightly as possible.

It wasn’t the same as when he was living, instead of him feeling its warmth, it was hard for him to even work up the strength to feel it at all. He cried into it, like he had countless times in life. It still wasn’t the same, his tears evaporated when they touched things that were solid.

It was one of the reasons he gave Patton his stuffed toy, Patton could use it more, it wouldn’t be different for him. That turned on him though, the humans were trying to find his safe space, and they would probably take it from him.

He gave up. They were gonna find it eventually, there was nothing he could do, instead he started ‘sleeping’, waiting for the inevitable to happen.

It showed the usual stream of happiness for a few hours, but this time, along with living memories, it showed him giving Trylla to Patton and watching the other’s face light up. He teared up at that. He really didn’t hate these humans, which made it all the worse for him. What was he going to do when they left him?

After a few minutes of crying in the in-between as the memories ended, he was shoved back into his room. The humans were gathered there already it seemed. They immediately looked in his direction at the flash of light, and he uncurled from the foetal position that he always spawned in.

He knew that he would be visible for a few moments, before fading, but he just stared at them, feeling oddly hurt at them invading his space. God, why did he have to go and get attached to people so easily?

They stared back at him, seeming almost in shock. Virgil could feel himself fading, and he glared at them in his final visible moments, before going to sit on his bed, facing away from them. He didn’t want to look at them in that moment, he knew that this would happen, but still, it felt like a betrayal coming from them.

He could hear the sound of hushed whispering, but he couldn’t make out the words. He thought about how easy it would be to go and listen in without them noticing, but he decided against it. He wasn’t rude enough to invade someone else’s privacy.

He looked back at them sadly, before curling in on himself slightly. They were all friends, they cared about each other, and they just took Roman’s suggestion straight away. It just showed that they didn’t care about him. He cared enough about them to try keep them safe and happy, but they were just wandering into his safe space with what seemed like no remorse

He grabbed a stuffed spider and made himself as touchable as possible, to try replicate the feeling of warmth cuddling it gave him when he was alive. It wasn’t the best, but it was all he could do.

One of the humans cleared his throat, and Virgil looked back at them

“Um, Virgil?” He stiffened at that, putting the spider on the bed next to him

How-

“If you’re wondering how we found your name, its in the front of most of your books” Virgil scoffed, picking up a book looking at the inside of the cover (which, as expected, had his full name written out: Virgil Pierce. He ignored the scribble of a previous name of his) before throwing it at the human that had spoken, Logan.

So they weren’t just going into his room without permission, they were looking through his stuff as well. Good to know.

Logan looked down at the book, before looking in Virgil’s general direction

“What was that for?”

He didn’t bother responding, they couldn’t hear him, so he should just save his non-existent breath for something else. Besides, they should be able to figure out why he was upset, it was pretty obvious.

More whispering was heard, but this time he could make out some words. An uneasy feeling spread through his chest. They obviously didn’t want him to hear them, but would it really be so wrong to listen in? He sighed, deciding to take the moral high road, if only to help his chances to get into heaven if he ever passed through the in-between, to the other side.

Roman cleared his throat a few minutes later, looking around the room, presumably for Virgil

“Um, we’re-” Logan nudged him, staring pointedly, which made Virgil laugh a little. They were treating this like siblings having to apologise to their parents after a fight

“Fine, *I’m* sorry for invading your privacy without permission, and for dragging these two into it as well,” He turned to look at the other two, seeming like he was annoyed “There, I apologised, happy?”

Virgil fully laughed out loud at that, before covering his mouth. He didn’t quite know why, they couldn’t hear him either way, but its what he always did when he was alive.

He watched Patton press on for more of the apology

“Fine, I’m sorry for calling you evil and creepy, but in my defence, you did steal from me” Roman pointed a finger at where Virgil was floating, getting just a bit off

Virgil rolled his eyes once more, grabbing some scrap paper and a pen from his desk

‘youre in my house, i can do what i want. now get out of my room’

He passed the paper to them, and retreated back to his bed, still watching them. The whispering started up again, this time only a few seconds, before they nodded

Patton smiled at him “That’s fine, we can go. You have a really cool name by the way!”

The humans left, closing the door behind them, and Virgil felt a swell of pride grow in his chest at the compliment. That was one of the first times people had complimented his name and not called it weird.

He pushed it down, he would rather not have anything growing in his chest other than a new set of unpunctured lungs, thank you very much, especially not affection for the people who were invading his privacy and living in his house.

He gave a sigh, running a hand over his face. It was gonna be very hard on him when they eventually left. He stayed in his room for a few more hours, until it was past late night and into the early early hours of the morning, one am to be precise.

He went to check on the humans, knowing that it was very likely that they’d be asleep, but he needed to know for sure.

He was about to float to their bedrooms, but instead heard the sound of talking and the Netflix opening sound coming from the living room. He froze. They needed to go to bed, he needed them to go to bed. He didn’t want them to die..

He flew into the room as quickly as possible, before seeing a pillow fort built out of the couch, and feeling breath that he didn’t have catch in his throat. Everything was just like the night it had happened.

He sunk to the ground, wrapped in his memories. Hearing the kitchen window smash, being too afraid to even move. Making eye contact with the robber and feeling the cold metal of a gun being pressed to his chest. It all had happened so fast, he had woken up to the sight of his body being dragged outside and he had screamed.

His show was still playing as the crime scene was being rid of evidence, it was still on the ‘are you still watching?’ screen when his house was being looked through by detectives. It had been switched off by the time the investigation was half way through.

He didn’t remember much about those few days, he figured that he must’ve been in shock. He remembered them finding his room, looking through his stuff, taking a few pictures and then leaving everything alone. All physical evidence from outside of his room that his room even existed was probably still sat in a box somewhere, never touched.

He remembered the day he was announced officially missing, posters with a name that wasn’t his plastered around the town, and people desperately searching for him. He clutched at his head, like he was in pain.

He didn’t want to relive this again, he had gotten over it, he was dead, he wasn’t gonna come back to life, so why was he always longing to? What would life even give him? More pain, more heartbreak, more people calling him a name that he wasn’t?

He had been declared legally dead, after his body was found, though the murderer roamed free. Virgil could only imagine what was written on his grave

‘Here lies [REDACTED], she was a loyal daughter, sister and friend. She will be missed’

He shook his head. It wouldn’t do to think of his gravestone as if it could be changed. He was Virgil now, he wasn’t a girl, no matter what was said of him. He was Virgil, he was himself.

He could feel sobs wracking his body, and he was back to thinking about when it happened. The murderer pressing the gun to his heart, which was beating frantically, because of course it was! He could see the blurry silhouette of someone getting closer and he panicked, too deep in his own mind to remember that he wasn’t there anymore, that he wasn’t still being threatened at gunpoint.

He pressed himself into the wall, as far as he could, before stuttering out a plea

“D-don’t- don’t get any closer- please- I’ll do anything, just please don’t kill me- I can’t- I can’t die yet” He was getting thoughts of déjà vu, but he wasn’t sure why. Had this happened before? He was about to get shot, wasn’t he? He didn’t dare open his eyes, he couldn’t stare death in the face. Not again, a small voice in the back of his head reminded him.

He could feel himself shaking, and he curled up more, desperately trying to protect himself. The unknown person got closer, he could feel it. He whimpered, squeezing his eyes tighter

---

Roman was trying to have a shitty Netflix movie marathon with his friends, but he couldn’t focus on that anymore. After he had found the ghost- Virgil’s- room, all he could think of was the glare he had given them all. He could swear that the ghostly figure almost looked sad.

Another thing was that he had been expecting was something less human looking. Maybe a deathly pale figure in robes and hundreds of chains, but instead what he saw was a person only twenty or so years, old, with blood soaking through his patchwork hoodie.

Roman kept thinking back to that for hours, through each crappy movie he watched, until it got to one o’clock. He forced himself to watch the beginning of another movie from his pillow fort, curled up in a mess of blankets, his friends next to him, Patton hugging the stuffed bat that Virgil had gifted him.

A few minutes later, the lights started flickering, and the tv was glitching. At first he was annoyed, but then he noticed the faint glow against the wall. He looked closer and noticed the ghost curled up next to the wall, only appearing when the lights were out, and looking extremely distressed and his eyes focused on something in the distance. He was clutching at his head desperately, as if he were trying to force something out

Roman hesitantly got closer, and the lights stopped flickering, going completely dark. He could see the ghost faintly, outlined with a purple glow

The ghost’s eyes went wide before they squeezed shut, and he started shaking

“D-don’t- don’t get any closer- please- I’ll do anything, just please don’t kill me- I can’t- I can’t die yet” Roman froze. Logan placed a hand on his shoulder, which startled him. When had Logan even gotten up?

“I don’t think he’s in the right frame of mind right now, Roman. That sounds like what could’ve been his last words.. I don’t think he’s seeing you as you, I think he may be seeing.. someone else” Logan was also staring at the apparition with what seemed like sympathy

Patton looked down at the bat in his hands before at the ghost. He walked closer to the ghost, momentarily stopping at the pained whimper that escaped him. He set the stuffed toy down before walking back to the group

“He needed it more than me, it’s his anyway” He shrugged, sitting on the floor, getting ready to comfort the ghost if need be. Roman joined him, he may not have particularly liked the ghost, but being able to see the ghost had changed his perception somewhat

It was no longer that all ghosts were evil, because now that he had a face to attribute to him, a name, it reminded him that.. ghost stories are just tragedies told from another perspective. He couldn’t imagine begging for his life against someone who had presumably broken into his house.

Roman started realising that something must’ve triggered this, and he looked around the room. The only thing that seemed out of place was the pillow fort. He shuddered

Your house could be broken into at any moment, even when you’re just sat in a pillow fort watching a movie. Maybe that’s what had happened to Virgil... He stared at the ghost, upset at the thought

He couldn’t even think how traumatic that would be, something meant to make you feel comfortable and safe to be the place where you were killed? He couldn’t bare to watch the apparition in pain any longer, and he got closer, determined to help somehow

One of the floorboards creaked under his weight and Virgil started shaking more, his form flickering, and the lights starting to do the same again. Roman stopped, before starting to approach again, this time avoiding any creaky-looking floorboards, and going considerably slower. He gently pushed the stuffed bat closer, and sat opposite the ghost

“Virgil, you’re not there, okay? I know it probably feels really real, and I understand that, but can you open your eyes please? I want you to name five things you can see, can you do that for me?”

Virgil shook his head, still with his eyes shut as tightly as ever, and Roman wracked his brain to remember other techniques to calm down someone with PTSD and other such disorders. He nodded to himself once he remembered. Man, that Mental Health Awareness course really turned out useful

“Okay, can you breathe in for four seconds for me? That’s it, you’re doing really well, now hold for a while, that’s great, you’re doing perfectly, now breathe out for eight seconds. You’re doing really well, now can you repeat that for me?” Virgil still wouldn’t open his eyes, but he wasn’t flickering as much anymore. He was getting gradually less visible, but he was definitely calming down

“That’s it, you’re doing great, keep going!” He gently encouraged, vaguely aware of his friends watching him. He ignored them in favour of coaxing Virgil into a healthier state of mind

Soon, when the ghost was just barely visible, and nothing was flickering anymore, Virgil opened his eyes

Roman smiled as warmly as he could manage, and the Ghost’s lips moved in a soundless word of gratitude, before fading. Trylla the stuffed bat was given to Patton. Roman got some paper and a pen out

“Virgil, if you’re still there, can you tell me what caused that episode, so we can avoid it, or give you a warning so that you can avoid it?” The pen was picked up from the table and Roman read the note

‘its a few things, long story’ Roman nodded

“We have time, if you’d like to explain?” He offered. The pen hovered above the page for a few moments before scribbling something down

‘no, you guys need to go to bed. I don’t like thinking that you’re down here when anyone could break in’ Roman read aloud, he nodded

That seemed pretty valid, he decided.

He knew he was acting pretty differently than he was a few hours earlier, but he was not going to be rude to someone going through a trauma induced episode. He didn’t want to stress him out any more than he already was

Patton spoke up for the first time in a while “Hey! Do you think we should buy some whiteboards so we can talk without having to get paper and a pen out every time?”

The pen scribbled something down and Roman once again read it aloud

“‘Sure, you should buy the big ones and stand them up in each room’ Great idea, my superb, stupendous spirit!”

He could practically feel the eye roll that nickname was greeted with, though he couldn’t see it

‘dont call me that’

Roman laughed at the quick response

“Would you prefer if I called you ‘Emo nightmare’ for the rest of my life?” He suggested, crossing his arms in a joking manner

‘You probably won’t live here the rest of your life, so in the very little time you’re gonna live here, you can call me whatever you want, just not that’

---

Virgil had fun with the humans. Even Roman didn’t seem to dislike him anymore. He tried to ignore the fact that it was probably just because he had just relived a traumatic experience, and they had to help him through it, and so far that was working.

After he had convinced them to go to bed, he started cleaning up the living room, folding blankets, putting pillows and cushions where they were meant to go, making sure everything was in place, before floating through each room a few times, checking for intruders, checking for things out of place, making sure the house was safe

He floated up to the bedrooms, checking on Logan first, then Patton, then Roman. He sat down in the corridor between their rooms, staying there until they woke up. They needed to be safe. They didn’t seem to be leaving any time soon, so he needed to protect them whilst they stayed

He waited, sometimes looking out of the window, looking into their bedrooms, making sure nothing was wrong.

Soon enough, Logan’s alarm rung, and the human was starting to get ready. Virgil followed him as far as he could, watching through a window as he drove away, presumably to his job. Virgil had overheard at some point that he was a teaching assistant

He vaguely wondered which school he worked at, before floating back upstairs to stay with the others. It was a few more hours before they woke up, but Virgil stayed alert the entire time. Intruders could show up at any point, he had let his guard down for one night, not going to his hidden room, and- well you already know what happened

Roman awakened first, walking down to the kitchen whilst rubbing his eyes. Virgil watched him intently as he started cooking. He was always extra cautious around fire, even in life. Such an intense power of destruction at the disposal of a person felt wrong to him

He flinched as the stove turned on, watching Roman prepare his breakfast. God, he missed eating. After he was sure that a fire wasn’t gonna consume the entire house, he went back upstairs to check on the still sleeping human.

He felt a small tug in his chest when he noticed Patton holding Trylla. He smiled, sitting down on the floor and messing with something. He waited for just about half an hour before Patton woke up

He grinned, starting to follow the human around. He knew that he wasn’t helping himself by doing this, it would just make everything harder on himself, but for once, he could feel like a part of something. He could pretend to be one of them

Roman greeted Patton good morning, before starting up a conversation

“Oh, just so you know, Remus said he’d be coming up to see me today with his partner, so he’s probably gonna burst in here at the most inconvenient time ever” Virgil listened, before humming in thought

Nice to know there’d be more people in his house. He sat on the table cross-legged and hummed a song to himself

“Oh, we should probably tell Virgil then”

He listened to Patton’s response and laughed

He wrote on some paper that was on the table with him

‘Im right here :)’

Patton walked over to read it “Oh, hi Virgil!” He exclaimed once he had. Virgil smiled at that, writing out a greeting. Roman walked over as well, looking to be thinking

“Wait- were you spying on us? Why are you just here?”

Virgil laughed again whilst writing his response

‘not spying, im just hanging out in my house and making sure you dont burn it down’ Roman made an offended noise upon reading it

“Excuse you, I am amazing at cooking and I am not dumb enough to burn down the house!” Virgil smiled at that as Patton made a small noise of disagreement

“Patton, you’re supposed to be on my side!” he complained, making a pouting face

Virgil sat there a while, content to just watch them and answer any questions they asked

After maybe ten minutes, Roman’s phone buzzed, and he nodded to himself

“Remus says he’ll be here soon, so we should probably get ready. Oh, and, Virgil, I’ve told him about you so if you decide to do any ghost stuff, he won’t be freaked out, just so you know”

Virgil smirked to himself before writing his response ‘well now im not gonna do anything, im gonna make you look crazy’

Roman gasped dramatically, placing a hand on his chest and staggering backwards

“How dare you betray me so? Once, I may have trusted you with my life but now you have taken your sharpest blade to my back and I don’t think I can forgive you for that” He placed the back of his hand to his forehead like a damsel in distress. Virgil laughed at that, writing down something telling the human to stop being so dramatic

‘dont be dramatic, what if i want to have a nap?’

Roman paused his woeful sorrowing to think for a moment “Do ghosts even need sleep? Can ghosts even sleep, actually?”

‘meh, we cant really sleep but i like to call it sleeping. its more like i disappear for a while and it shows me my happiest memories for a few hours’ He wrote, feeling like it was an inadequate explanation

Both humans nodded at that, before there was a knock on the door. Roman started grumbling about not even having enough time to do his hair before Remus showed up.

Whilst Roman was greeting his brother and his brother’s partner, Virgil got an idea

‘do you wanna team up with me to make roman look crazy? all you have to do is deny that i exist or that you know me’

Patton read what he had written and nodded, a mischievous smile on his face. Virgil also grinned, going to hide the note to get rid of evidence

Once he had done that, Roman walked in, with what looked like a clone of him but with a moustache and a tall, pale person wearing a they/it pronoun badge. Virgil nodded at that, committing it to memory before going to float in a corner and watch the events unfold

Patton walked over to the other humans happily “Hi Remus! Hi Janus! What are you guys talking about?”

Roman looked at him “Oh, I was just telling them about Virgil!”

Patton looked at him with an innocent face “Who’s Virgil?”

Virgil, meanwhile, was laughing extremely hard in the corner, Roman’s face was just priceless. The human sputtered and stammered a few times

“Did you team up with him to make me look crazy?” he pouted, crossing his arms.

Virgil took the time whilst Roman was sulking to look at the guests. He didn’t much like new people, but in this instance, as long as they didn’t find his room, he’d be fine. There wasn’t much need for scaring them out, since they were only visiting, and since that would blow his cover

Remus looked almost completely identical to Roman except with different make-up and a moustache. He was wearing a dark green leather jacket adorned with spikes on the shoulders and back, with a brighter green shirt on underneath. Virgil started to suspect a possible favourite colour, with the outfit choice and green and purple makeup. Virgil started looking at the other person

Janus was tall, about 6’1 to Virgil’s 5’6. That immediately filled him with irrational rage. He start looking at its outfit. They had a few piercings, and tattoos. Virgil could admit they definitely had style, begrudgingly. Still didn’t make up for the tall thing. It was also wearing some fingerless gloves, and a black and yellow shirt on top of a white vest. The outfit certainly matched their two-tone black and yellow hair, which was a half/half style.

He sat on the countertop, almost wishing he could have some popcorn for the high-quality acting Patton was pumping out at pretending he didn’t exist. Janus was narrowing its eyes at the act though, like they almost didn’t believe him. Huh, it was smarter than it looked, he noted, before floating off to his room.

The act lasted for a few hours, until Remus and Janus left to go to their apartment. The minute they drove away, both Patton and Virgil burst out laughing

Roman pouted at them, well, really only at Patton, but Virgil was floating behind him.

“Patton, why’d you do that? You betrayed me! I would expect this from Virgil, yeah, but how’d he get you to team up with him?” He had his hand on his heart, as if extremely emotionally wounded, but it was very obviously joking. He paused for a moment “Logan is now my favourite roommate, you two have officially betrayed me, and therefore have plummeted to the bottom of the list!”

Virgil touched a hand to his heart. He was classed as a roommate? He thought for sure he’d just be ‘annoying ghost that lived there too’ (well, he didn’t really live there but that was just a technicality). He was touched by the notion, and he grew more and more attached to them. He winced. It was so gonna hurt when they left him

---

It was a few months later when anything exciting happened. And by exciting, Virgil just meant different. Life got pretty boring when you’re confined purely to 10 rooms in the world.

He floated into the living room boredly, scrawling a greeting on the dry-erase board in that room. Roman (the only person currently in that room) looked up at him distractedly

“Oh, uh, hi Virgil. Uh, Remus and Janus are getting kicked out of their apartment ‘cause their landlord wants to sell the house, so would they be able to stay here for a while?”

Virgil groaned. He was gonna let them, of course he was, but the problem was that he’d have to give up his act that he didn’t exist. He had been perfecting it for months, he had even managed to convince Logan to get in on it. Months of hard work down the drain. He didn’t actually care that much, but he liked to pretend he did, picking up the dramatic tendencies from Roman

‘sure i guess. Why not’ he wrote out, waiting for Roman’s response

The human smiled “Thanks Vee”

Virgil smiled back. It was gonna be different but, different didn’t seem to be all that bad sometimes

~~~~~

Taglist: @a-chilly-pepper

54 notes · View notes

dilemmaontwolegs · 2 years

Note

Nick would be very yummy ❤️

The New Partner || Nick Fowler

Summary: Your employer teams you up with Nick but he doesn’t like your smart ass commentary. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, unprotected sex, pullout method, squirting, spanking, choking WC: 1566

You watched from across the Parisian cafe as your target waited for their buyer to arrive. Whispers of a device that could control any digital piece of technology had the criminal underworld in a tizz, everyone wanting a chance to have the world in their hands. You were no different, only you had a secret benefactor who was ready to pay top dollar for it and funded your trip to France.

You had started to think no one was going to show until a couple strolled down the footpath, too perfect and pretty they just had to be CIA. Placing your almost empty cafe latte down, you started to make your way past them, your shoulder brushing the hand man’s jacket as you passed but his eyes were glued to his partner and he didn’t notice you at all.

Taking a new seat at a bistro across the road, you opened the leather wallet and flicked through the cards, drivers licence and too many loyalty cards to keep track of. Nicholas. You looked across the street to see him and you tilted your head as you watched him laugh with his perfect white teeth on show, he probably went by Nick. It was then you decided he suited Nicholas much better.

Suddenly a scuffle broke out and you watched a new party enter the interaction, taking the backpack you assumed held the cash for the buy while your mark was shaken and bolted. You rose as he did, crossing back over with a group of pedestrians and thought better than to try and join the chase, instead you waited for Nicholas to brush you aside - slipping the wallet back in his jacket as he passed.

The blip on your phone moved quickly through the busy streets as you sat back down at your original table to finish your croissant and coffee. Finally he came to a stop and you assumed he had caught the man so you wiped your lips off the pastry flakes with a napkin and placed a note on the table courtesy of Nicholas Fowler. Climbing onto the Vespa you had hired, you followed the tracker you had left in the wallet to find an unexpected situation unfolding.

“Mr Clarke, I didn’t realise you were in town.” You said as you found Nicholas held at gunpoint.

“And I thought with two of you working this drive, one of you would at least be successful.”

“Wait, he works for you?” You gawked as you looked at the CIA agent.

“Don’t sound too shocked, sweetcheeks.” He smirked, the sweet and kind features of his ruse completely erased by arrogance.

“Great to see you two getting along, ‘cause guess what? You’re partners now. Fail again and you’re both dead.” Mr Clarke warned before walking back to his sleek sedan, the tinted windows blocking him from sight as his driver reversed out of the alley.

“So where do we start first?” You asked as you leant against your scooter.

“We?” He laughed. “Me, and don’t get in my way.”

“You didn’t notice when I did it before, Nicholas Fowler.” You smirked as his eyebrows furrowed together. “Sorry, did we not do introductions already? I’m y/n, others would call me a master thief but it’s just a little patronising, at least call me mistress.”

Recognition filtered through his features as he recalled hearing stories about you, mostly because you were wanted by the CIA for many, many thefts they had linked to you.

“You’re not what I expected.” He finally said after running his bright blue eyes slowly down the length of your body and back up again, charm replacing his arrogance. “It’s a pleasure."

“I hope so.” You flirted back. “I’m guessing you’ve burnt your hotel room. I have a safehouse not far away.”

He drew his bottom lip between his teeth and you could already imagine how he would mark your skin with them, a shiver of anticipation rolling down your spine. “I’m driving.”

You shuffled back on the leather seat knowing nothing good would come of starting an argument, and you were quite happy to wrap your arms around his waist as he settled between your legs.

“Who was the girl you were with?” You asked in his ear as you rested your cheek on his shoulder and watched the shops pass by in a blur.

“No one.” He stated cooly which made you think it was quite the opposite.

“Wow you suck at lying, especially for an agent.” You chuckled. “I thought they trained you better than that.”

“I can incapacitate you without wasting a breath, stop talking while you can.” He growled as he followed the gps on your screen to the safehouse.

“Sounds like a challenge, baby boy.” You purred. “I love a challenge.”

Your bodies crashed through the door, your keys going flying to the coffee table as his jacket went over the futon. The rest of your clothes soon followed as you made your way through the apartment to your bedroom at the back, the air of arrogance putting him in charge every step of the way. The back of your knees hit the bed and he pushed you back so you fell onto the duvet, his knees already nudging your wider before he stepped into the space.

“You’re gonna regret that attitude of yours.” He warned with a dark smile, his hand stroking his hard cock as he pressed the head to your entrance. “You won’t be able to get a single smart comment out of those pretty lips when I’m through with you.”

He shoved roughly inside you, your cunt straining to accept the thickness he speared you with before he eased himself out again. “Oh, fuck, is that all you’ve got?”

His hand darted out, gripping your throat as he cut off any further taunts from you and you drew in what little air you could as his control left your walls fluttering. “This turns you on, huh, baby girl? You like it rough?”

You nodded against his hand, your own hands running over your body, cupping your breasts with one and teasing your clit with the other.

“Fuck.” He moaned at the sight, almost coming undone before he had even started having fun. “Go on, make yourself cum all over this dick.”

Your back arched as you rocked against him, wrapping your legs behind his ass as you pulled him deeper inside you and moaned at the added contact. Reached up you pressed your fingers to his full lips and sighed when he sucked them into his mouth, tasting you as he slicked the digits up. Satisfied they were wet enough, you pulled them out and mewled as they glided over your sensitive nub and brought you closer to release.

“Jesus, you’re so fucking tight.” Nick shuddered as your core clenched around him and he dropped his hold on your throat to roll a peaked nipple between his fingers. His hands moved to grip your hips and the headboard slammed against the wall as he pulled you against him with every thrust. You were in ecstasy as he fucked you with long hard strokes and then his palm came down on the flesh of your ass.

“Fuuuck.” You cried out as the skin began to burn and the heat spread across your entire body, as your orgasm was ignited.

His palm came down again even harder and white flames flickered across your vision as your legs trembled and your clit pulsed beneath your touch. “On your knees, now.”

You did as you were told, with the help of his hands when your legs refused to obey your brain. There was no time to recover before his cock rammed back inside you and his fingers dug into your skin as he rode you with a fury.

Your head was spinning as your high never ended, his cock stimulating your g-spot with the new angle and his hand leaving its hot touch across both of your asscheeks. Burying your face in the duvet you screamed as your climax peaked maximum pressure, the proof of it in sporadic squirts that ran down your thighs.

“That is so fucking sexy.” Nick growled as he felt the hot liquid lubricating his shaft with every thrust until he couldn’t hold back anymore. He pulled out, letting the flood of your cum run free from your abused hold and pumped his fist along his glistening cock. The hot spurts of his release splattered across your lower back and you felt incredibly empty without your cunt stretched around him. Collapsing without a care, you sagged to the mattress to regain your breath, your limbs twitching with aftershocks as Nick climbed off the bed.

“Bathroom?” He asked as he pointed to a closed door off your room.

You nodded dumbly as you felt disconnected from your body, like he had unplugged a crucial wire that connected your brain to your mouth. Instead you looked like a guppy as you opened your mouth only to close it with a confused frown.

“Fucked the attitude out of you, didn’t I?” He smirked as he returned, the water running in your bathroom. “Maybe this partnership won’t be too bad after all.”

#nick fowler x reader #nick fowler x woc!reader #nick fowler imagine #nick fowler smut #nick fowler fanfiction

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off-brand-likes · 7 months

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Recording

"Zeb," Kallus whispered into the large ear mashed against the Glimmer of Hope's main cabin floor beside him. "Zeb, wake up."

Zeb growled softly. Since he faced away from Kallus, Kallus couldn't see if Zeb had opened his eyes. "Bounty hunters are--"

Heavy footsteps approached, fast. Maybe one of the hunters who'd taken the ship had heard Kallus whispering, or they'd figured that their stun bolts would wear off about now. Kallus rolled onto his back, away from Zeb, a big, obvious move that drew the hunter’s eyes to him.

A human stomped in the cabin door and pressed her boot to Kallus’s throat, with a blaster angled to burn his face off if she pulled the trigger. His wheezing breaths were loud in the small cabin.

"Kal?" Zeb mumbled without stirring. He'd taken a lot more stun bolts than Kallus had.

"Get down here," the hunter shouted over her shoulder in Huttese. She stepped out of Kallus's stun-clumsy kicking range to level her blaster at Zeb. "Stay still or he dies."

"I understand," Kallus wheezed in Basic.

"On your face.” Kallus rolled over to lie stomach-down on the floor. “Hands behind your head." The hunter kept speaking in Huttese, which was fine, and as long as she was out of his reach with a blaster on Zeb, he’d do what she said.

“What’s going on?” Zeb whispered.

Before Kallus could answer, more footsteps announced the arrival of two more humans and a big Trandoshan. All three of them surrounded Kallus to put binders on, and then the human with the blaster shifted her aim to him while they bound Zeb.

“Ready to move them?” one of the humans asked, still in Huttese.

“Yeah. They know what we’re saying, so, watch it.”

Kallus wasn’t actually certain that Zeb spoke Huttese. He barely made it to his hands and knees before the hunters dragged them into the Glimmer’s common room and dropped them on their knees in front of the holotable. It was on and ready to record.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Zeb muttered. Kallus nodded. What were these hunters doing?

“Gags.” The hunter who’d stepped on Kallus earlier seemed to be the one giving the orders. He and Zeb exchanged worried looks as the hunters who weren’t holding guns on them approached with a cloth gag for Kallus and what looked disturbingly like a muzzle for Zeb.

“Wait,” Kallus said. “Who hired you? What are they pay—”

The leader didn’t interrupt her underlings gagging him before he’d finished offering her a better deal. She must be sure she already had one. And there weren’t many buyers who’d pay that much. Zeb was right. This looked bad.

“You two.” The hunter in charge paced around in front of Zeb and Kallus. “If you want to keep those hands, keep them behind your heads. Gags stay on, no blinking coded messages or anything, or you’ll regret it.”

She checked some readouts on the holoprojector that Kallus was at the wrong angle to see. “They’re all in, let’s go.”

The other three hunters moved to stand behind Zeb and Kallus with their weapons aimed at them the whole time Kallus could see them. Kallus would have to thoroughly distract all three of them to give Zeb an opening to take them out. Zeb looked a lot more alert now, but it wouldn’t hurt to give him more time to recover.

The bounty hunter in charge spun toward the holotable and hit the Record button. “Welcome, buyers,” she said in accented Basic. “Bringing you in now.”

Behind his gag, Zeb said something three syllables long, his tone a mixture of disgust and fury.

One by one, the holotable filled with people. Most he didn’t recognize, although he’d recognize ISB Agent Coomlin anywhere, and the nervous looking Mon Calamari wore a rebel captain’s rank badge, which wasn’t terribly encouraging. He was fairly sure he’d seen the Kitonak on a wanted poster for some deeply unpleasant crimes done for the Hutts. He was faintly proud that he and Zeb commanded such an audience.

“The targets on offer today are Alexsandr Kallus, former ISB, current rebel, and Garazeb Orrelios, part of the Phoenix Squadron. You got the ID confirmation we sent, or you wouldn’t be here. All buyers are muted for now,” she added while Coomlin silently said something about the Empire’s right to Kallus and Zeb, if Kallus was reading his lips correctly.

“You send us the bids, bids get displayed on the channel we specified. You want to make deals on the side, do it, but we’re only staying here fifty minutes. Whoever’s got the top bid by then gets whatever pieces of them they want.”

Zeb said something incredulous and two syllables long, probably repeating “pieces.”

The hunter ignored him. “Let’s start bidding at ten-thousand credits. That’s your buy-in to ask questions about them,” she added to the rebel Mon Calamari, who was also attempting to speak while muted.

A smaller and grainier holoprojector on the floor made a pinging noise. As the hunters refocused on it, Zeb rolled onto his back, grabbed one of the bounty hunters behind him with his feet, and flung him across the room.

Kallus went for the leader, but the stun bolt from her blaster caught him while he was still reaching for her. He landed hard but didn’t go all the way out. His nose bled onto the floor under his face as he fought to turn his head and watch the struggle behind him. The human hunter who Zeb had thrown across the room stayed on the floor a few steps away from Kallus, bleeding from the head.

The noise behind him quieted down. When the leader dragged Kallus back to his knees by his hair he managed to keep his balance. She grabbed one of his hands in both of hers and he expected her to put his hands back where she’d told him to keep them. Instead, she bent his trigger finger back, fast.

The wet-stick snap of it came with a vicious burst of pain. Kallus screamed into his gag. She drop his bound hands behind his head and stomped over where Zeb lay on his back on the floor. Instead of bending one of his fingers back, she stomped on his bound hands until something cracked. The muzzle didn’t do much to muffle his roar of pain.

As tempting as it was to lunge at her again, Kallus held himself on his knees. This wasn’t the chance he was waiting for. They could fix Zeb’s hands, if he survived long enough to get to a doctor.

“I’ll break something you care about more, next,” she told Zeb. She glanced between him and Kallus and grinned. “He doesn’t need all his teeth, does he? Think about that.” She turned back to the holotable, where the auction bidders watched mostly with amusement, although the rebel representative looked more nervous than ever.

“Right,” the lead bounty hunter said to the bidders. “Who’ll give us fifty thousand?”

#star wars #swr #yes him again shush #whump #No effort Whumptober #text #recording #no.6 #also some forced to watch!#broken fingers #on his knees #i forgot i don't actually have to get people OUT of the situations for whump #so nice #can't believe I'm keeping up with this challenge #not everything has to be good enough for ao3 #auctioned off

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dangalante · 5 months

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Trends in AI & Generative AI: Insights from The 2023 AI Summit New York

Last week, I covered the AI Summit in New York. I was excited to learn about the trends in AI and generative AI and to see some commercial applications of these new technological advancements.

Patrick Murphy of UAB led the AI Exhibitor hub. Patrick shared insights from his research on Entrepreneurship. He shared how start-ups use AI, and Generative AI to scale up and bring products to market.

Generative AI is being used in the following eight ways:

Content and Asset Generative

Automated Processes

Ideation

Financial Management

Project Design

Optimized Structures

Acceleration and incubation

Ethics and Risk Management.

There was a pitching completion where start-ups did pitches in multiple rounds. At the beginning of the competition, they received advice from judges on best practices.

One of the start-ups that was of interest was Botwise. Jan Nowak shared how his team shared a use case on how they leveraged Language Learning models (LLM)using statistics and GPT solutions for rapid automation in customer service for Mylead.global is a platform that allows influencers to earn money. As a result, MyLead.global was able to screen influencers faster and better for their big brand clients.

AI-Powered Use Cases from across the board panel discussion

Leaders Saira Kazmi Ph. D. (CVS Health), Matthew Blakemore (Creative Industries Council) Taha Mokfi (HelloFresh), Kriti Kohli (Shopify), and Kris Perez (Data Force) share how they use chatbots, improving both the buyer and seller experience using AI. How AI can be used in video games to identify levels of violence and how AI can improve in healthcare and Radiology reducing the amount of time images are read while improving accuracy and detail.

Another interesting Panel was by Tim Delesio CTO of techolution

Tim asked What’s driving the explosive rise of AI all of a Sudden?

The answer is the economics of the labor market.

On the demand side, he cited labor shortages and persistent high inflation.

On the supply side, he cites the rise of ChatGPT and, major scientific and Technological breakthroughs in the past five to seven years.

He shared trends in AI for 2024 that include:

Physical Labor with AI to help deliver small batch sizes with high-precision quality control

Improved customer engagement by providing a new generation of customer service agents using Generative AI

Tim demonstrated some of these trends when he ordered a soda using an AI-powered robotic arm.

youtube

The booth had another machine showing how AI can enhance inventory management when items are ordered.

I was amazed to see some AI Tech that techolution brought to the marketplace.

On that note, I saw an AI-powered Kiosk by Graphen where a man ordered his food and paid. This company is using AI to revolutionize all industries.

Man orders food AI Kiosk

Man pays for food at AI Kiosk

There were so many great talks and exhibits.

youtube

Additional pictures can be found on Instagram.

I want to thank the AI Summit for having me as their guest. If you want to use AI and Generative to improve business outcomes, sign up for the AI summit in your city.

What do you think is next for AI and Generative AI?

Comment and share below.

Additional pictures can be found on Instagram.

#marketing #sales #ai #generative ai #technology #tech #customer experience #innovation #Youtube

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webuyhousesedmonton15 · 6 months

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We Buy Houses Edmonton

Sell Your Home In Edmonton

Simple Solution • Painless Transaction • Peace of Mind

We Buy Houses Edmonton “As-Is”

No repairs. No cleanup. No upgrades needed. We’ll buy your property as it is.

We Pay All Cash

Need access to your funds quick? We’ll pay you in cash for your home on close.

We Close Fast

Need to close fast? We’ll close in 7 days or whenever is BEST for you.

Selling a home can be an overwhelming process, especially when you need to do it quickly. If you’re in the Edmonton area and looking to sell your house as soon as possible, there are certain steps you can take that will help make the process smoother.

In this article, we’ll take a look at what needs to be done to quickly sell your home in Edmonton.

The first step is understanding the local market and setting realistic expectations for what your home is worth. Knowing the current trends in the area will help you set an appropriate price range for your house that will attract buyers and get it sold fast.

Additionally, it’s important to consider factors like location, condition of the property, and any upgrades or repairs that need to be done before listing.

Finally, don’t forget about staging – making sure your home looks its best before potential buyers come through can go a long way in getting it off the market quickly!

Why Are You Thinking Of Selling?

I’m thinking of selling my home in Edmonton because I need to move for work.

This job opportunity is too good to pass up, and it’s not something that I can do from Edmonton.

I understand that selling a house is a difficult process, but I have to take this chance and make the move.

I want to be able to sell my current property quickly so that I can focus on making the transition as smooth as possible.

It’s important that I find an experienced real estate agent who understands the market and can help me get the best price for my home in a timely manner.

Edmonton’s Current Housing Market

Edmonton’s current housing market is a hot topic right now. Homebuyers are eager to purchase while sellers are looking for the best time to list their properties.

In this article, we’ll explore what’s happening in Edmonton’s current housing market and how it might affect buyers and sellers.

The numbers tell us that right now, there is an increase in sales activity in the city of Edmonton. In fact, since the beginning of 2021, year-over-year sales have increased significantly.

This has been welcomed news for Edmonton real estate agents and homebuyers alike as they take advantage of the favorable conditions.

Choosing The Right Sales Method For Your Home

When it comes to selling your home, there are many different options available.

You can choose to list your home with a real estate agent and have them handle the entire process, or you can take a more hands-on approach and sell it yourself.

No matter which route you take, it’s important to understand the current market in Edmonton so that you can make an informed decision on how to best proceed.

Knowing what buyers are looking for is also key when deciding how to go about selling your home.

Is the neighborhood popular?

Are there amenities nearby?

How much competition will you be facing?

All of these factors should be taken into account when determining if listing with an agent is the right option for you or if taking a DIY approach would be more beneficial.

Ultimately, understanding what works best for your situation is key to achieving a successful sale of your home.

Selling Through A Realtor

Making the choice between selling your home yourself or enlisting a real estate agent can be difficult. It requires careful consideration of the market, and of your own individual circumstances.

Selling through a realtor may be the best option for those looking to maximize their returns and minimize the work involved in selling their home. Realtors have extensive experience in the real estate market and understand how to price and market a property to ensure it sells quickly. They are also able to use their network of contacts to find buyers who may not have been reached through traditional methods.

Additionally, they handle all of the paperwork associated with a sale, allowing you to focus on other aspects of moving. Realtors will also help you negotiate with prospective buyers to get the best deal possible for your property.

However, this comes at a cost as realtors will charge a commission based on the total sale price of your home. Considering these pros and cons is essential for making an informed decision about how best to sell your home in Edmonton’s current housing market.

For Sale By Owner

The For Sale By Owner (FSBO) market in Edmonton is an attractive option for many buyers. Not only does it provide the opportunity to negotiate on price, but buyers can often find unique properties that are not available through traditional real estate channels. Furthermore, FSBO transactions help to reduce fees associated with a real estate transaction such as commissions and closing costs.

However, there are some important considerations to make before entering into a FSBO transaction. Buyers should be aware of their legal obligations and rights under Alberta law, ensuring they have the proper paperwork in place to protect their interests.

It is also recommended that buyers use a lawyer or other qualified professional to review any documents or agreements related to the purchase. Doing so can help ensure that all parties involved are adequately protected and that no one is taken advantage of during the transaction process.

Selling To An Investor

Selling to an investor can be an attractive option for homeowners in Edmonton’s current housing market. Investors often have more money available and can make a purchase quickly without having to go through the lengthy process of obtaining financing. They also tend to be willing to take on properties that need some repairs, which can be beneficial if you’re not able to make those fixes yourself.

With investors, you likely won’t receive the same price as if you were selling on the open market but it could still provide a good return depending on the condition of your home and your specific situation. Another advantage of selling to an investor is that they are usually able to offer flexible terms, such as allowing the seller to stay in their home during closing or providing additional time before having to move out.

This can be especially helpful for people who need more time to find another place or are unable to move right away due to financial constraints. In addition, investors typically don’t require appraisals or inspections so it could help expedite the sale process. All these factors make selling to an investor a viable option for many homeowners in Edmonton’s current housing market

Finding Honest Investors

When it comes to selling your property in Edmonton’s current housing market, finding an investor can be a great option. However, it is important to ensure that you are working with an honest investor.

To do this, there are several steps you can take to make sure the investor is reliable and trustworthy.

First, research the investor’s track record. Check online reviews and ratings from past customers and ask questions about their experience. This will help you get a better understanding of the investor’s background and expertise.

Additionally, if possible, arrange for a meeting with the investor so that you can ask questions face-to-face. This will also give you the opportunity to get a sense of their personality and ensure they have your best interests at heart.

Lastly, make sure to have a written agreement in place outlining all terms and conditions of the deal before signing anything. Doing this will help protect both parties involved in the transaction.

Edmonton Investors Specialize In Helping Homeowners In Difficult Situations

Edmonton’s current housing market can be challenging for homeowners to navigate. With rising prices, it can be difficult for homeowners in tough financial spots to keep their homes.

Fortunately, there are investors in Edmonton that specialize in helping these individuals out of difficult situations. These investors purchase homes from those who need to move quickly and also provide assistance with mortgages that have gotten out of hand.

They understand the value of a home and are willing to work with people facing hardship so they can get the most out of their properties. These investors are reliable and trustworthy, offering honest advice when it comes to selling one’s home.

They have extensive experience in the real estate market and know how to handle any situation with professionalism and care. Their services make it easier for homeowners to get out of tricky financial positions while still making a profit on their property.

This is an invaluable resource for those in Edmonton struggling with the current housing climate, giving them hope for a better future.

FORECLOSURE

The Edmonton housing market has seen a rise in foreclosure rates in recent years, making it more difficult for people to be able to purchase a home. Foreclosures can occur when an individual or family is unable to keep up with their mortgage payments, as the bank will then repossess the property. This has been especially concerning for those who are lower-income and cannot afford to make the necessary payments. In order to combat this issue, there have been various initiatives put into place, such as providing financial assistance and creating more affordable housing options. These measures can help individuals stay in their homes while having the added benefit of improving overall housing conditions in the area. Additionally, there are also various resources available for those facing foreclosure, such as legal aid and advice from lenders on how best to proceed. Ultimately, these efforts may help reduce the amount of foreclosures occurring in Edmonton’s housing market.

BURNED OUT LANDLORD

The foreclosure market can be a difficult one to navigate, but for some Edmonton landlords it could be much worse. When landlords are burned out, they face an even tougher situation. Burned out landlords are those who have become overwhelmed by the financial and emotional strain of managing rental properties. Often they’ve been worn down by years of dealing with bad tenants, maintenance issues, and other challenges that come along with being a landlord. These landlords may feel like they’re stuck in a never-ending cycle of stress and frustration, leading them to make desperate decisions about their investments. In many cases, these decisions don’t end well. A burned out landlord may decide to take extreme measures such as selling off all their rental units at once or going into foreclosure without exploring other options first. This can result in them losing their entire real estate portfolio and being unable to recoup any of their losses. In addition, they may have difficulty finding new tenants due to the reputational damage caused by the foreclosure process. It’s important for Edmonton landlords to recognize when they are becoming overwhelmed or burned out so that they can find ways to protect themselves from making poor decisions in this difficult housing market.

PROBATE

Edmonton’s housing market has been an interesting one to watch lately. With the pandemic in full swing, many homeowners are feeling uncertain about their future and what it holds for them. Probate is one of the many topics that comes up when discussing the current state of the housing market. Probate is a legal process where a person’s estate is distributed after they have passed away, and it can be a long and confusing process to undertake. It’s important to understand the basics of probate before entering into any real estate transactions, as it can help guide you through the process. Real estate agents are knowledgeable about these proceedings and can provide advice on how to navigate them correctly. Additionally, there are a few steps that homeowners should consider taking when dealing with probate-related issues, such as consulting with a lawyer or financial advisor for expert insight into your situation. Taking these steps can ensure that everything runs smoothly and all parties involved are informed of their rights and responsibilities throughout the process. Understanding these procedures is key if you’re looking to purchase or sell property in Edmonton’s current housing market

NEED REPAIRS / UPGRADES

The Edmonton housing market is a bustling hub of activity, with many different buyers and sellers involved in the process. As such, there are bound to be properties that need repairs or renovations before they can be sold or rented out. From minor touch-ups to major overhauls, it’s important to understand what needs to be done so that a house can reach its full potential. Repairs can range from replacing broken windows and repainting walls to fixing plumbing issues or dealing with mold growth. Homeowners should also consider the cost of any repairs when setting their asking price. Even if the necessary repairs aren’t too extensive, it could make sense for them to lower their asking price in order to compensate for the additional costs they may incur while repairing the property. By understanding the scope of necessary repairs and taking cost into consideration when setting an asking price, homeowners will be able to maximize their return on investment and make sure that their property is ready for sale or rent as soon as possible.

You’re One Step Away From Selling That House & Moving On With Life

Selling your house can be an exciting prospect but it can also come with its own set of stresses. The Edmonton housing market is always changing, so it’s important to understand how the current market conditions might affect your sale price.

Knowing what buyers in the area are looking for and understanding the competition you face from other sellers can help you get the most out of your home sale.

Along with researching the local housing market, you’ll need to make sure that your house is ready to show and attractive to those who come to view it. Taking steps like making small repairs, staging furniture, and ensuring that it’s clean and inviting will go a long way in helping potential buyers see the value in what you have to offer.

With these simple steps taken care of, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t be able to close on a sale soon.

Take action now and start preparing your house for sale; if everything goes according to plan, you’ll be packing up and moving on with life before you know it!

Things To Do In Edmonton

If you’re looking for something to do in Edmonton, you won’t be disappointed. With its abundance of activities and attractions, Edmonton has something for everyone!

From outdoor adventures to the bustling downtown core, there’s no shortage of things to explore. Take a stroll through one of the city’s many parks or trails, take a tour of the world-famous Royal Alberta Museum, or catch a show at the Citadel Theatre.

If you’re feeling adventurous, why not take an ATV tour along one of Alberta’s many scenic back roads? No matter what kind of activity you’re into, Edmonton has it all.

Whether you’re looking for a quiet day out with friends or an action-packed weekend getaway, Edmonton is sure to have something that will make your stay enjoyable and memorable.

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