#I think my rolling cutter needs a new blade

[scary-grace]

all set to start my next quilting project

[wokeupinmars]

The End of Beginning

Pairing: Sierra Six / Court Gentry x Reader

Summary: Six is forced to face his feelings as he struggles to make amends with you after lashing out.

Warnings: Angst with fluff. Flashbacks/memories are italicized. The backstory of what originally made Six and Reader fall out. Claire trying to be Six's wingwoman (she just wants her parental figures to be together). A bad date(?) and Six groveling.

Word Count: 3.6K

Author's Note: Thank you to @elusivewildflower for allowing me to essentially lose my mind in her inbox over planning this. I really appreciate it <33

I also might change the same of this part. My heart is fully set on this title but we’ll see if I come up with something better! (Edit: Title has been updated from Laying Down Roots to The End of Beginning).

This is the third part of the Playing House series.

Part One: The Pretty Nurse Who Lives Down the Hall

Part Two: “I’ll go wherever you go”

Please comment and/or reblog if you enjoyed this!!

RG Masterlist

A thin layer of sweat coats Six’s forehead as he sets down the last of the boxes and grumbles, “Your apartment was so small, how the hell did you manage to cram so much shit in there?” You roll your eyes at him, “I’m hearing a lot of complaining from a man who insisted that we didn’t need to hire movers because “I could do it myself.”  

The sound of Claire’s laugh echoes through the kitchen, earning a frown from Six. “You’re supposed to be on my side kid,” he huffs out. “You’ll live.”  

You handed him a cold bottle of water. “What do you guys want to order tonight?” It’s like you can see the gears turning in Claire’s head, “Can we get pizza?”  

“Sure thing, Sweetheart. Six?” You watch as he nods his head in agreement and uncaps the water bottle. The plastic crinkles and crunches in his hold as he downs about half of it in big gulps. You nod in response and turn your attention to the set of boxes he had brought in. You pick the top one off and drag the blade of your box cutter across the taped seams.  

The remaining afternoon consisted of the three of you unpacking as many boxes as possible and reassembling furniture from your previous apartments. It was until the grumble of Claire’s stomach made its presence known that you all called it a night.  

You didn’t think the first night in the new place would be spent in a misshapen circle with two pizza boxes in the center, but you couldn’t say you were mad at it. “This is really nice,” Claire voices as she reaches for another slice.  

Six lets out a little hum while you just smile and allow the room to fall silent. He found himself just looking at you, noting how your smile didn’t reach your eyes. This was the kind of quiet that Six usually reveled in, but tonight he felt uneasy. You were doing such a good job at pretending everything between the two of you. Several days had passed since your fight and the guilt of the situation was still eating away at him.  

It kept replaying in his head, the panic he felt waking up and realizing Claire was gone, only to have the two of you walk in through the apartment door with a box featuring the logo of a local bakery. He remembers the smile on your face and how quickly it faded once he opened his mouth.

— 

“Why would you take her without telling me?” His voice was booming as he snapped at you. At that moment he hadn’t registered what you were saying to him. He remembers seeing your mouth moving, but the ringing in his ears prevented him from listening. “I’m not doing this playing house bullshit with you! I didn’t want it then and I don't want it now! You aren’t our family and Claire isn’t your kid. You had no right to take her anywhere without asking me!”  

The sound of Claire yelling his name was what finally got him to stop laying into you. The sight of your face was burnt into his memory. You just looked so…sad. Your eyes had glossed over and the second you made eye contact you averted your gaze. It was eerily quiet until your phone buzzed. You glanced at the screen and then mumbled a quiet, “Got to go.” You left, giving Claire a kiss on the head on your way out.  

Six felt awful as the realization of what he did finally sank in and the pit in his stomach only deepened when Claire anger seeped through. “Why would you say that!?” He’d never heard her raise her voice until now. “How could you do that? You know I’m safe with her.” 

His voice softens as he speaks to her, “You left without telling me. She’s the adult in this situation; she shouldn’t have taken you anywhere without my permission.”

“It was a surprise!” Claire exclaims.  

“A surprise for what?”  

There’s a visible slump in her shoulders as she opens the bakery box to show him the frosted cake with the words ‘Home Sweet Home’ written in icing. “The closing date got moved up by a few days. She closed yesterday afternoon.”  

He just stares at the dessert. “And I guess it doesn’t matter to you, but I see her as family. Closest thing to a mom I’ve had in a long time. You didn’t need to make her feel like an outsider,” Claire added.  

Six knew he needed to apologize and with the help of Claire, they came up with a way to do so.  

It was close to midnight when you got back to the apartment. Claire had spent the evening with her eye pressed against the peep hole waiting to see you pass by. They were both expecting you to knock on the door just to pop in and wish Claire a goodnight like you usually did on nights you worked late. He could hear the conversation unfold, being the two of you, as he made sure everything was set perfectly at the table. He could hear your comment about Claire's get up as she was sporting one of Six’s blazers with a mustache drawn on her face, “Please tell me that’s not permanent marker.”  

“It’s dry erase,” she assured before slipping into an awful French accent, “Please follow me this way mademoiselle.” She steps aside and opens the door wider to let you in. “Claire, it’s late. I just want to go to bed. Speaking of which, why aren’t you in bed.” 

“Six let me stay up and if you come inside, you’ll be able to see why,” she attempts to use your curiosity as a way to get you into the apartment.  

“Sweet–” You stopped, in the moment he wasn’t sure why, but he later learned from Claire that she had given you her best puppy dog eyes. He listened to the heavy sigh you let out “What happened to the accent?”  

“It just wasn’t me.”  

Six stood tall by the kitchen table as you entered with his hand clasped together in front. He watched Claire nudge you and you take the hint to go and sit down. He could feel your eyes on his hand, you had noticed the subtle way he fidgeted with his watch which prompted him to stop. He waited for you to set your bag down and sit before taking his seat across from you.  

Claire approached the table handing the both of you a sheet of paper. “Welcome to Claire’s.” 

Your eyes scan the paper. At the very top the word ‘menu’ was written in big bold lettering. The paper was divided into three sections; entrees, dessert, and drinks. The only thing listed under entree was ‘lasagna,’ under dessert was ‘cake’ and ‘cookies (burnt)’ with a frowny face beside it. Drinks were simple with the only option being water. It was obvious to him that you knew Claire had a hand in this and didn’t want her efforts to be wasted, so you played along. “So many options, I don't know how we’ll be able to choose.” 

A smile starts to stretch across her face, but she composes herself, “Take your time.”  

The unmistakable sound of foil wrap crumpling fills the apartment. Claire passes the kitchen table with two plates in hand both containing a slice of lasagna, “Don’t mind me,” she chirps as she puts one of the plates in the microwave.  

Your knee bounced as you avoided Six’s gaze. Claire breaks the silence, “How come your home so late? Did you work overtime?”  

“Oh uh, no. Dropped by the house to clean a little before we start moving our stuff in.”  

“Should’ve called us. We would’ve helped,” He speaks up. It was the first thing he’s said since you got here. You shake your head and dismiss him, “Wasn’t necessary.”  

The microwave beeps and Claire sets the first plate in front of you before returning to her spot by the counter to heat the second plate. You pick up your fork and poke at the food. It doesn’t take long for Claire to repeat her steps, this time placing the plate in front of him. She walks away once more but returns less than a minute later with two glasses of water. You thank her and she nods, turning her attention to him and not so quietly whispers “Do not mess this up for us.”  

You watch as she makes her exit into the living room. “So…” you begin, “What was that about?”  

“She’s worried that I fucked everything up and you’ll leave without taking us with you.” 

“I wouldn’t do that.”  

“I know.”  

He notices your focus shift and he follows your gaze to the poster board taped to the fridge with a drawing of the Eiffel tower on it. “I assume this was all her idea?” 

“Making you dinner was my idea but after you didn’t get back at your usual time and we burnt the cookies Claire took some…creative liberties.”  

“I can see that…you told her about Paris or was this just a Paris is the city of love kind of situation?”  

“The latter. I think disclosing anything that happened between us in Paris would scar her for life.” It was his attempt at lightening the mood and in any other instance he was certain you would’ve cracked a smile. Tonight, however, you just nod.  

“I’m sorry.”  

You only hum in acknowledgement, “You don’t have to save face. I won’t stop you from moving in with me or anything like that.”  

He felt sick. Did you honestly not believe he was being sincere? “I’m serious. I should have never lashed out at you like that. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” your voice quiet as you speak, “You were right. You and Claire aren’t my family–” 

He cuts you off, “We are a family.” His words hang in the air for a moment before he continues talking, “At least I want us to be. I panicked when I woke up and Claire wasn’t here. I got frustrated and it…” He was trying to find the right words. He had never been one for feelings, and it seems that this painful lesson that he’d been teaching you again and again. “I didn’t mean it,” are the words he settles on. “I didn’t mean what I said.” 

You shook your head, “I overstepped. I’m sorry.”  

“You don’t have to apologize. I was being an asshole to you.” 

“Six–”  

“Court,’ he corrects. “I only ever want to be Court with you.”  

“I should get going. Thank you for going through the trouble of cooking for me. We can tackle the logistics of moving in the morning.” He doesn’t stop you when you get up and sling your bag back over your shoulder. You were visibly tired, and he knew pressing the issue had only exhausted you more.  

Claire’s head popped up from behind the couch when she heard the chair scrape against the floor. “You’re leaving?” 

“Yeah, sweetheart. Have a good night. I’ll be over in the morning.”  

She bids you a goodnight as you open their door to go. He follows close behind you, but you stop him, “You don’t have to walk me back.” You don’t give him the chance to object as we're already walking down the hall. He stands at the door with the tiniest bit of hope you’d look back at him.  

You don’t.  

“So…I’m guessing you guys still aren’t okay.” 

He brushes off her question. It was more than clear where his relationship with you stood. “It’s late, kid. Go get some sleep.”

Claire ignores him and starts to take down the poster, “I really thought Paris would work. I mean she has a mini-Eiffel tower keychain.”

— 

He didn’t know how to make it better.  

The few days that had passed with you keeping your distance and only speaking to him when you felt necessary left a lot of time for him to do the one thing he was dreading; processing his feelings.  

It was clear to him that he was starting to slip; to relax. It was a feeling he’d been anticipating since the night you spoke at the table. He had been trying his best to ignore the familiar feeling that arose in his chest every time you were near. He knew there was no use, you always had this effect on him. He just thought he had a little more time before the fuzzy feeling started to consume him.  

But now…now he was living with you. Sure, you were spending the majority of your time with each other before, but this was different. You’d be evading his senses completely now. Everything he was feeling was shifting into hyper speed and the worst part was, there was no way for him to stop it.  

A part of him believes that's why he snapped at you the way he did. A form of self-sabotage to ruin the bridge that you’d both be working to mend. It wouldn’t be the first time he did something like that to you.  

Claire picks up on his gaze and puts down the slice, “You know…I’m actually really tired. I think I’m going to call it a night.” You squint your eyes at her sudden declaration, “You sure? You never really go to bed this early.” She lets out a yawn and stretches her arms over her head, “Yeah, all this unpacking has been...” Another yawn prevents her from finishing her sentence.  

You nod despite being able to tell she was lying. If her exaggerated movement didn’t give it away, it was the skeptical look on Six’s face. You stand up and reach for the pizza boxes, “Are you also done eating?”  

“Yeah,” he murmurs.  

You take the boxes and head into the kitchen. Claire waits till you're out of sight before she starts whispering, “Talk to her. I’ll go to bed, and you guys and talk and make up.” 

“Claire, she doesn’t want to talk to me.”  

She crosses her arms, “That’s why you'll talk, and we hope she listens. It sucks that you guys are being so weird. I miss when you’d stare at her when she’s not looking, and it wasn’t sad.”  

“I don’t stare–” 

“Yes, you do. All the time. Everyday.” Claire leans back and tries to get a glimpse of you through the doorway wrapping the leftover slices in foil wrap. “Just try. Please. I miss how we were before and it’s obvious you do too.” She doesn’t wait for him to address what she said, instead she gets up and heads into her new room. 

It takes a few minutes for him to work up the nerve to talk to speak to you but once he does, he enters the kitchen in search of you. Except you're not there. He makes his way down the hall to the main bedroom; the door was open a bit, but he still knocks. “Come in.”  

You were kneeling on the floor looking through some of the smaller boxes. You spare him a glance before returning your attention to the box in front of you. He sits down beside you, his shoulder knocking into yours. He opens his mouth to talk but his voice gets caught in his throat once his eyes land on the box's contents. Keychains, a few knickknacks, and a photobooth strip.  

He recognized everything in the box. Keychains and trinkets from every place the two of you had met up in over the years. He used to poke fun at you for insisting that you had to pick up something each time but now he’s glad you did. He picks up the photo strip. He knew exactly where it was from. A mission had gone sideways, and he had been laying low in London. He ended up calling you on his second day there from a burner phone. You were between jobs and being the lover you were, joined him. The pictures were taken two weeks into his stay there; you had convinced him to venture out into the city with you after the food supply in the safe house began running low. On your outing, the two of you passed a photo booth at the entrance of a cafe. You dragged him into it. He remembers arguing with you, emphasizing how reckless it was for him to be seen let alone have his photo taken. You simply told him to suck it up and that it would be safe in your possession. 

The first photo was simply, you perched on his lap, your lips curved into a smile and his chin resting on your shoulder. There was the smallest trace of a smile on his face, one that grew bigger in the next photo. The second picture was a little blurry, you both had the idea to kiss the other on the cheek and it ended with you bumping noses. The countdown ended and captured you giggling and him grinning at you. The third photo was of you cupping his face and kissing him. The fourth and final photo was nearly identical, with the expectation of him leaning into you. This photo was the only tangible evidence of your previous relationship, another version of him and you, a happier version.

“The day we moved in wasn’t the first time I saw you after we stopped talking.” It was a confession you weren’t expecting. You weren’t facing him, but he could see your eyebrows knit together. “I saw you in London a year after we stopped talking. Fitz managed to set me up at a decent hotel for a night and I saw you. Barely caught a glimpse of you going into your room. I smelt you first. Your perfume was lingering in the elevator. Thought it was some sort of punishment for letting you slip through my fingers. But…but then I saw you.”  

He shifts his gaze back to the photo, “I ended up standing in front of your door for a few minutes before leaving. I wanted to talk but I just froze. You were right there. All I had to do was knock.” A dry laugh escapes his lips, “I couldn’t justify talking to you. You thought I didn’t love you; I made you think I didn’t love you. I hurt you so much. I didn’t deserve to talk to you then, I don’t deserve for you to be so welcoming to me now, not after I made a mess of us.”  

His voice is hushed, you can hear the small crack as he bears his heart. “I’m so sorry,” he comes out in huff. “For everything. I’m sorry for what I said and how things ended. I would take it all back if I could…I’d give anything to go back to that night in Havana.” 

That night in Havana was the last time you saw him before he moved in down the hall. It was a night that remained hazy in your memory. Now years removed from it, you almost found it humorous how an absentminded inquiry had crushed the delicate little fantasy you conjured up in your head.  

“Have you ever thought about leaving the CIA?” It was pillow talk. You didn’t think it would snowball the way it did. “Why would I do that?” That response alone should’ve been enough for you to move on to a different topic, but you didn’t. “You’ve never thought what it would be like? The thought of leaving this all behind and living in some coastal town somewhere never crossed your mind?”  

“Has it crossed yours?” Answering a question with a question, you expected nothing less from him.  

“It has.”  

Your memory gets fuzzy from there, you remember him asking about, “Yeah? Tell me about it?” But you failed to remember the tone in which he said it. It was more than likely he was being sarcastic, but you were too sleepy to notice, so you answered. “I think since we both have money stashed; we could easily pool it and get a little house somewhere. Just us…maybe a cat…maybe more. It would be a boring and peaceful life but it’s a life I’d like to live with you.”  

“We?”  

“Yeah.” 

“I would never want that.” 

You know your drowsy state has warped your memory of the night, but his response felt instantaneous. “Oh”  

“That’s the kind of life you live with someone you love. That’s not us”  

“Oh.”  

You’ve suppressed everything that unfolded after that, but you knew that you two fought and it ended with you waving your white flag and leaving early the next morning.  

“I wish I didn’t let you leave,” his voice draws you out of your head. “I wanted that life; I just didn’t think that it was a life I could have or deserved.” He puts the photo back in the box, “I think I’m always going to wonder about what would’ve happened if I was honest.”  

The room falls silent. The weight of his admission weighs heavy on both your head and heart. You close the box and push it under the bed. Your knee knocks against his as you change into a crisscrossed position.  

“I’d like to think we would have been happy,” you whisper. 

“I think we would’ve been.”  

You started picking at the skin of your nails, unsure of what to say. His hand reaches over and stops you digging into your cuticles any further. “I think we’re living a version of that life now,” he divulges. His thumb rubs circles against the back of your hand. “Might not have a cat but if you were willing to...I’d like another chance to do things right; to make you happy.” 

You lay your head on his shoulder and quietly say, “I’d like that, Court.” 

[beecauseevan]

Thank you @oldfashionedmorphine for the cute prompt <3 <3 <3

~~~

Eddie stares at the thing he just pulled out of the cardboard box in front of him, concisely labeled "Kitchen". That makes him think it must be food-related (then again, Buck kept a ring cutter in his cutlery drawer, so who knows), but try as he might, he can't work it out. It's a bright green plastic knife, but the handle is weird—it's a grid instead of a solid surface, too wide and too flat to be comfortable to hold.

"What is this?" 

He holds it up. Buck, who's sitting across from him, glances up, shrugs, and looks back down at Christopher's textbook.

"It's an avocado cutter."

"Why do you need an avocado cutter?" Eddie asks.

Buck looks up again. "Why do you think, Eddie? Not to cut apples, that's for sure."

Eddie reaches into the box again and takes out a (much more recognizable) plastic gadget—a red plastic frame and eight blades, arranged in the middle like spokes on a wheel. "And what's this?"

"That's an apple cutter." 

Wordlessly, Eddie drops that back in the box and pulls out something long and yellow—

"Banana cutter."

—followed by something that looks exactly the same, except orange.

"Hot dog cutter," Buck says, with a smile.

"Uh huh." Eddie pulls out something purple.

"That's an onion," Buck cuts himself off, "dicer."

"An onion cutter," Eddie repeats.

"No, an onion dicer," Buck insists. "It said so on the package."

Eddie looks at the thing in his hands. It looks exactly like the apple cutter, but the blades are arranged in a grid, forming little squares instead of wedges. "What's the difference?"

Chris, sat between them and brooding over his English homework, stops chewing on his pencil just long enough to say, "It's obvious, dad. Cutters cut, dicers dice."

"It's obvious, Eddie," Buck echoes, smirking.

Eddie drops the onion cutter on the no pile, ignoring Buck's pout. 

"I don't think you should be throwing out all of my shi—" Buck cuts himself off with a glance in Chris' direction. "All of my stuff. That's not the point of moving in together. Your stuff is supposed to mingle, Eddie."

"You can say shit, you know," Chris tells them boredly. "I'm not a baby."

"Our stuff is mingling," Eddie replies, pointing his finger at Chris, a silent admonishment Chris completely ignores. "But not this stuff. I already have a banana cutter. And an onion dicer. And all the other stuff in between."

Buck looks at him skeptically. "You do?"

Eddie nods and gets up. He walks to his cutlery drawer and pulls out a single kitchen knife. "See? It cuts, it dices, and it's universal."

"It's not shaped like a banana though."

Chris chuckles and quickly dips his head when Eddie looks at him, as if he's been focused on his homework the whole time. Eddie shakes his head.

"That sounds like a good thing, if you ask me."

"I guess I won't ask you, then," Buck replies.

Eddie sits back down. He would give in (he would fill every single drawer in this house with useless gadgets if it made Buck happy) but Buck's frown is clearly not genuine—the spark in his eyes is far too obvious.

"So what you're saying is," Buck continues, "as long as it's not a cutter, it's fine."

Eddie hesitates. "Why does that feel like a dangerous thing to say yes to?"

"Live on the edge, Eddie," Buck tells him sagely, and Eddie has never been one to back down from a challenge.

"Okay."

Buck pulls the box closer to him and starts rummaging through it. He produces some things Eddie doesn't mind saying yes to—spacer rings for his rolling pin, a collapsible silicone bowl for microwave popcorn, a pizza cutter shaped like a bicycle and cupcake tins shaped like firetrucks, which are just ridiculous enough that Eddie wants to see them in action.

"See," he says, "we're mingling."

"We are," Buck confirms, and there's something in his smirk that might be bad news. Eddie has seen that smirk before. It usually precedes a rope rescue or something equally dangerous. "So if you don't have something yet, I get to keep it, yeah?"

Eddie frowns. "That was the deal."

"Okay." Buck reaches into the box between them one last time and pulls out the weirdest thing Eddie has seen all day. It's chocolate-colored and square, with a round cylinder at the back. Two arms protrude from it, made from flexible white plastic. He shakes it lightly and those arms rattle, slapping against the flat base. 

Eddie stares at it. "What on earth does that do?"

"It's a s'more maker," Buck says, tugging at one of the arms. "You put your crackers here, and your chocolate and your marshmallow, and then you put it in the microwave. And this little thing holds everything in place."

"We used it every time I stayed over at Buck's," Chris says fondly. "The s'mores taste really, really bad."

"Microwaved s'mores taste bad?" Eddie reaches out to tug at the other arm, then lets it fall back down. "Shocking."

Buck is smirking, and the thing is—Eddie knows fully well that this is a dare. He knows that Buck expects to be told to get rid of this thing, and that he would do it, gladly. And maybe that last part is why Eddie just shrugs instead.

"Okay."

"Okay?" Buck repeats, incredulously.

"Okay," Eddie confirms. "Bet we can clear some space for it."

Buck stares at him, stunned. "For real?"

Eddie reaches for Buck's hand, still holding the chocolate-colored monstrosity, and smooths his thumb across Buck's knuckles.

"It's your house too," he says simply. 

It's Buck's house too. Buck isn't renting a room from Eddie, isn't staying here as a guest. Buck is a part of this household now, of this family. If he wants to make s'mores in their microwave, he doesn't need Eddie's permission.

Buck's eyes speak volumes. Later, when they're alone, Buck will kiss Eddie for this, hard enough that Eddie forgets about everything else. For now, he just flips his hand so he can lace their fingers together, Buck's a little longer than Eddie's but calloused in all the same places. 

Chris catches one glimpse of them and rolls his eyes, burying his face in his homework, but he's smiling too.

"Okay," Buck says quietly. "Okay. But I am getting rid of it. Chris is right. The s'mores are really bad."

"Could take it to work," Eddie says after a moment, when his brain is no longer too flooded with love to work properly. "Show it to Bobby."

"He'll disown me."

"Yeah, maybe. But his face would be worth it."

Buck's smile grows into a smirk, bright and devastating. He mouths the next words, for Chris' sake, but Eddie has heard them so many times by now that his brain fills in the gaps, that he hears Buck's voice as he reads Buck's lips: I love you.

"I know you do," Eddie replies. It takes one pout, and then he breaks. He mouths back, trusting Buck to be able to read him just as easily: I love you more.

"You two are embarrassing," Chris tells them. "And we're keeping the s'mores maker. I like it."

Just like that, it's settled.

[sheliesshattered]

RRD cosplay update! I got the first 5 pieces of the underdress (and sleeve linings) cut out today! 7 more to go, all from the body of the underdress, and while it is a bit of a tedious process that can only be done in tiny steps due to the small space I have to work with, I think I’m getting faster and more confident at it, so that’s something at least.

Step one is laying the black silk organza out on top of white cotton muslin, which makes it a lot easier to see the grainlines and smooth them out until they’re all square with each other. Then I’m marking out the 3cm from the selvage edge that I want to save to use for seam bindings later on. And only then can I trace one, maybe two pieces of the body onto the black fabric, working from one selvage edge inward, before I need to flip the whole piece of fabric over, do all the smoothing and the selvage edge treatment again, and trace another one or two pieces. Because each of the dress panels are ~10.5″ at their widest and this fabric is ~45″ wide, I can fit four across pretty easily, especially since I don’t need to worry about nap or right side/wrong side with this fabric..

But then once those four pieces are done, I have to cut them out before moving onto the next round -- my table is only barely long enough to accommodate the length of one panel at a time, and I don’t want to hang the bits that have already been traced on off the edge of the table (leads to warping fabric) or roll it up with the markings on it (the fabric pencil markings start to fade with very little encouragement). So once I’ve got a single width of the fabric taken up with traced pieces, I have to cut those out before I can go back to tracing again. Which means taking the cotton muslin off my table and putting the silk back on the cutting mat, etc etc. The only reason I have 5 pieces done instead of 4 is because I did the two sleeve linings, which together are about the same length as one of the body panels.

Before cutting the first pieces today, I also took my Martelli rotary cutter apart, cleaned out all the gunk (which I didn’t even know you could do before I looked up a video on blade replacement -- highly recommend this rotary cutter, it’s excellent), then put in a brand new blade. It cuts marvelously well, and this silk organza doesn’t really fray at all. It wiggles off grain if you even look at it, but as long as I’m confident that it was on-grain when I traced the pattern pieces onto it, it doesn’t really matter what it’s doing while I’m slicing along those traced lines. So far it’s been a dream to work with. I know the red silk jacquard for the overdress is going to fray a lot worse and I’ll probably end up needing to stay-stitch it before I cut it out (and further complicate this process) but eh that’s a problem for next month, lol.

I also figured I should store all the cut pieces completely flat until I’m able to start sewing them together, and I am completely out of flat surfaces in my house. Except the floor. So those 5 finished pieces are now carefully laid out on top of a towel on the floor at the foot of my bed. Jack knows it’s there and we don’t have any pets or kids who might step on it, so hopefully it’ll make it through the next few days while I cut the other 7 pieces.

Tonight I got the 3cm from the selvage edge marked out and the organza smoothed out on top of the muslin again right before I called it quits for the night. I’m going to double-check the grainlines in the light of day tomorrow before I trace out the next piece -- and hopefully fit a second piece on there without having to move the fabric, but we’ll see if there’s enough room. Fingers crossed.

The pieces for the earrings shipped today and should be here within the week, I think. My wig arrived on Thursday and looks good, but is in need of styling and such before I can really call it done. So for the whole cosplay, the last pieces to order are the rings, and some sort of decoration for the sleeve cuffs. I think on the show it may have been embroidered? But from some angles it also looks raised and more metallic than thread-based, so I’m not sure. I have found some flat metal beads that look pretty similar to the shape seen on screen, buuut I’m also contemplating doing something a little less screen-accurate and more Targaryen-focused. I’ll do a full photo comparison post about that at some point in the future.

185 days until I need to be all packed and ready to go for Dragon Con. I know that time is going to fly by, so it’s nice to have real concrete progress each day, even if it’s only little tiny steps forward. I want to wear this cosplay so bad, but I’m also trying to be in the moment and enjoy the simple pleasure of a sharp new blade slicing through silk, or the weirdly gratifying process of squaring up the grid of grainlines. It’s not all about the destination, after all.

[creations-by-chaosfay]

Here are some quilting articles I received from Bernina today! This is a long post, so I’m putting it under a cut. Seriously, this is really lengthy.

Best Pressing Methods - Pressing seams properly and well is vital for a sharp and professional looking finish to any and every quilt. I’ve seen a lot of folks new to quilting become frustrated because their quilts are so uneven and messy looking. Turns out too many of them are forgetting a vital step: pressing their seams! When I first started, I was terrible at pressing seams. It’s almost embarrassing looking at those pictures now, but it’s good to see how much I’ve improved.

Accurate Piecing Basics: Quarter Inch Seam - The quarter inch seam is vital for accurate quilting, but it’s also a scant quarter inch. That means it’s just a thread shy of being a try quarter inch. Why? Because the thread you’re using is taking into account. Now a single thread may not seam like much...until you take into account all the threads and seams you make for that quilt top. It adds up and will result in corners not quite meeting. This is where the foot you use on the machine makes a difference. I use a quarter inch seam foot. I line up the edge of the fabric with the foot and it sews a scant quarter inch, no issue. There are several different types of sewing feet to choose from, so check out the article to figure out what will work best for you.

Accurate Piecing Basics: Cutting - The tools you use can make a world of difference in the results. For cutting done to make quilts, a rotary cutter is the single greatest tool you will ever use. They come in a variety sizes and types. I use a 60mm rotary cutter for cutting the fabric, but a 45mm rotary cutter for more detailed or smaller pieces. 60mm is overkill for my magnets because the pieces are so small, and it can actually cause pulling and tugging. That’s where a 45mm works best.

A proper and good cutting mat is also vital, especially with a rotary cutter. I have two mats, a large one for my cutting table and all basic cutting, and a smaller rotating one that I use for trimming blocks, cutting smaller pieces, and cutting several pieces from a single precut (like cutting six pieces from a 10x10 inch square). I’ve had to replace my large one because it was getting grooves, lines had vanished due to cutting, and it had warped during our move across the state due to the movers not storing it flat.

Acrylic rulers are a delight to have. They come in a variety of size and shapes, including templates. The larger variety you have, the happier you’ll be. Trust me on this. I have several templates, rulers with slits in them for a blade to fit, rectangles and squares in different sizes...oh, it’s made cutting fabric so much easier for me. Just make sure they’re non-slip. I have little sticky things I attached to my first ones because they otherwise slip around, but many come with non-slip stuff on them to keep things steady.

That’s my personal experience, so check out the article to see what you will most benefit from.

How to Pin Baste a Quilt - I pin baste all my quilts. Thread basting is too time consuming for me, glue is unsafe for my asthma, has to be done outside (in my case), and will need to be reapplied often if quilting by hand. Pin basting saves me a lot of time, can be adjusted, is very secure, and I’m not risking my lungs or sanity. But it must be done PROPERLY or you’re going to have a lot of problems, like pinching seams, wrinkling, warping, and a variety of other issues large and small.

Basting is easiest on carpet, but I now have to deal with bare floors. If I ever own a house, the largest room will either have carpeting or a plush rug I can use for basting. Currently I’m thinking about getting a roll of carpet that I can store away when not using it for this task. With bare floors, taping the edges to the floor with painters tape makes a big difference. It hold the backing flat, prevents sliding, and serves the same purpose as pinning it to carpet.

The batting is usually where I have issues because I keep it stored in the bag it came in, which means folds and wrinkles galore. I’ve tried pressing these out but to no avail. Tossing it in the dryer with a damp towel, however, works magic. It also has a felting effect on cotton and cotton-poly blend batting. Wool batting doesn’t have this issue of wrinkles and folds, which is why it’s a lovely batting for wallhangings and display quilts, like those in quilt shows. It doesn’t have fold memory, and therefore no issues with funky lines from folding the quilt. It also means the quilt can’t be put in the dryer unless you want some seriously funky shrinkage that can ruin a quilt.

Binding Three Ways - I make my own binding and I don’t use any of the techniques show in the tutorial. The technique I use can be seen here for $1 (You will only need to buy it once!). It’s not suitable for curved or round edges, but it’s great for straight-edge quilts. It’s the technique my mother taught me and has been used by all four generations of quilters in my family. I’ve received criticism from older quilters because they consider it very unprofessional, but I’ve also received praise due to the simplicity and ease, and some older quilters have taken to using this because it’s less work than some of the other techniques. Seriously, you can talk to ten different quilters and get ten different binding techniques. Use what works best for you and don’t be shy about trying something different.

Easy Quilt Facing - I’ve never used this method because I’ve never heard of it, but this is rather intriguing. I often choose binding fabric that flatters the overall quilt, but this is something I may give a try just to see how it works. If you use it, please provide any tips and tricks you may have!

[my-emotional-self]

Toxic Love Chapter 10

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Summary: Finding out your soulmates were Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes was one thing.  But when someone from your past comes back to haunt you, you have to figure out if a relationship with two super soldiers is something you really want to pursue or if you’d rather go back to your comfortable single life.

Series Warnings:  18+, Swearing, Angst, Fluff, past mentions of rape, self-harm, attempted rape, domestic violence, stalking, death threats, possible Dark!Steve?, Steve will be an asshole a LOT in this series but I don’t know how dark it will get, explicit sexual content, mental health issues, kind of A/B/O dynamics but not really (no they are not actual wolves, more like the hierarchy), mentions of suicide, flashbacks of suicide, nightmares

A/N: There will be no taglist for this story!  I apologize in advance!

Steve ripped his hand away from your throat and he took a large step backwards, far away from you. To say you were disappointment was an understatement.  What did you do wrong?  Why was he acting like your skin had burned him?  You would give anything to feel his hands back on you.  

As Bucky approached, you could feel his eyes on you, but you couldn’t stop looking at Steve.  Your eyes bore into him, pleading, begging for him to touch you again.  But it was no use.  Fear flooding throughout you.  He was going to leave you wasn’t he?

“F.R.I.D.A.Y,” Steve commanded, “Open her door.”

The door to your room opened and Steve, much gentler this time, pulled you into your room.  “You are to stay in here until I figure out what to do with you.”

As Steve left, he slammed the door shut.  Your jaw clenched as you leaped forward and to your dismay, found the door locked.  

“ARGH!” you screamed, fists pounding on the door.  “FUCK YOU STEVE!  I FUCKING HATE YOU!  OPEN THE DOOR!! OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR AND LET ME OUT!”

~~~

“What the hell is happening?” Bucky asked as he and Steve made their way into the living room.  The sounds of your screaming getting quieter the farther they moved away.  

Steve sat down on the couch, head in hands and elbows resting on his knees.  He didn’t even know what to think of the last ten minutes that transpired.  He felt the couch dip next to him, Bucky sitting down, worry etched in his eyes.  

Steve let out a deep sigh, shaking his head as he turned to face Bucky.  “We got into a fight upstairs in the kitchen.  She had been awake all night working and didn’t even go to bed.  I scolded her.  Told her she needed to get to bed and get rest.  She flipped her shit Buck,” Steve spoke.  The anger he had was gone now, replaced with his own worry.  “She threw a glass plate at my head.”

“What?” Bucky couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  

“Yeah,” Steve replied, not even believing it himself.  

The two of them sat there in silence for a few minutes.  “What was with your hand on her neck then?”

Again, Steve shook his head. “She did that Buck.  She put my hand on her neck.  It’s like she wasn’t herself.  There was something dark behind her eyes.  It didn’t feel right.”

“I mean, she has seemed like she’s been a bit more agitated lately.  Have you noticed that too?”

Steve nodded, agreeing with Bucky.  You had seemed more irritably and agitated over the last few days when they called you to check in with you.  But they didn’t think anything of it.  

“Maybe there is something she’s not telling us,” Bucky spoke up, breaking the silence over the two men. “We can always have Stark try to look into things.”

Steve thought about it for a moment.  He wanted to trust you and preferred not to check into your background.  But at the same time, if this is something serious, he wanted to be able to help you.  He wanted you, him and Bucky to be a solid trio together.  He didn’t want any problems to come between you three.  

“Yeah.  I’ll talk to Tony about it.”

~~~

The carpet was beginning to wear down as you paced back and forth in your room.  The door was still locked.  You felt like a caged lion, ready to attack.  Every few minutes you checked the door only to find it still locked. They couldn’t keep you locked in here forever, could they?  No, you wouldn’t let that happen.

You were unsure of how long you had been locked up when there came a knock at your door.

“Y/N, can we come in?” Steve asked, voice firm but no hint of anger and that only pissed you off even more.  

“Fuck you Steve!” you yelled as you kicked the door, hoping he heard it.

“Y/N,” Bucky began to say but you cut him off.

“Fuck you too Bucky!”

“Hey!  What did I do?” Bucky asked, hurt in his voice.

You felt like you were spinning completely out of control.  The last time it got this bad, you were with John and it was because he took your medications from you.  He told you that you didn’t need to be on them.  Sure enough, you began to act out and John didn’t like it one bit.  When you were punished for acting out in front of him, the punishments were always physical in some way.  Is that why you were pent up more than ever?  Because John always beat the anger out of you when you acted this way?

“Just leave me alone!” you roared as tears streamed down your cheeks.  So much anger and sadness and hate was swirling inside of you and you didn’t know how to cope or deal with it.  

You needed to drown your sorrows, you needed to get out of your head, you needed to feel pain.  It was in that moment, you knew what you had to do.

Marching into the bathroom, you pulled out your makeup bag from under the counter and dug through until you found silver box cutter.  

Taking the blade out, you rolled your sleeve up.  It had been years since you had cut.  Because John always helped with the pain.  He was the one that gave you the pain and that always helped ease the outburst.

Placing the silver metal to your skin, you pushed down.  Blood seeped out of the cut as you dragged the blade across your skin, back and forth. Instantly you began to feel relief. Your mind was fixated on the burning pain of your wrist rather than being stuck in your head.  Blood smeared across your delicate wrist by the time you were done.  There wasn’t enough blood to be concerned about, no mass amount of blood loss or anything like that.  But it was enough.  Enough to get out of your head, even if it was briefly.

After washing off the blood, only deep red gashes were left on your skin and you pulled your sleeve back down; the razor blade going right back into your makeup bag and under the counter.

Now you were exhausted. Your bed was calling your name and you curled up into your silk sheets.  You cried yourself to sleep.

~~~

It was dark when you woke up.  You winced when you brushed your arm against your thigh; the pain a welcome feeling.  

Looking at the clock, it was just after midnight.  And you weren’t feeling much better.  Sure, the pain helped with the anger, but now you just wanted to drown your feelings. And you wanted a cigarette.   Lucky for you there was a 24/7 hour liquor store a few blocks away from the tower.  

Changing into a pair of dark washed skinny jeans, you put a long black and gray flannel over your long sleeved shirt and slipped on a pair of shoes.  

Grabbing your credit card and I.D., you headed to the door.  Where you stopped dead in your tracks.  They had locked you in here.  Holding your breath, you turned the door knob and nearly jumped for joy at the fact that the door was now unlocked.  

Walking down the hallway, you flipped off Steve’s door with your middle finger, pushed open the door to the stairs and ran like a bat out of hell.

~~~

That evening, Steve lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling.  Bucky had been called on a last minute short mission with Natasha.  

Steve couldn’t comprehend what had happened to you.  Why were you acting out all of a sudden?  Was he and Bucky not giving you enough attention?  Was there something that you were hiding from them that they could possibly help you with?  He had seen the anger in your eyes.  Heard the anger in your voice.  He didn’t know you could even have that kind of anger inside of you.  From the short amount of time that he had known you, he just didn’t think it possible.  You seemed perfect.  Sure, everyone had flaws, but when he was being a total jerk to you that first night you met, you still forgave him.  Not everyone would have done that.  

As he lay in bed, his mind replayed memories of him and Bucky in the past during the war.  He could understand the anger that you had, even though he didn’t know the reasoning behind it.  When him and Bucky were in the war, they had so much anger in them too.  It was because of the war.  The war did things to them.  They had been rough with women during the war because of it.  At the time, they only had each other’s marks.  They liked to share women together.  Hell, Steve had to admit it was nice getting that anger out. They never once hit the women; that wasn’t in their nature.   But god were they rough with them in bed.  He found out that some women even liked it, which honestly surprised him for the 40’s.  

But that was back then. When he woke up from the ice, he had noticed he had another new mark right below Bucky’s and he was delighted. He had another soulmate out there and he’d have a chance to be happy again since Bucky was gone.  Or so he thought.  When he found out Bucky was alive and well, he was even more ecstatic. To have his best friend, his brother back and to share a woman together was a dream for them.  

He hadn’t had any of that anger recently, not like he had in the war.  Until now.  Now, he and the team kept going in circles trying to find the new leader of Hydra.   But nothing was working.  And now he had you to deal with.  You acting out the way you were was making him furious.

Just then, Steve was alerted to an email.  It was from Tony.  Steve asked him if he could look into your past and Tony had come through.  

He sat up and turned the lamp on, scrolling through the email Tony had sent you.  It was police files about your ex John Smith.  He kept scrolling through, reading the words at a quick glance until he came upon a video.  He clicked play.

“And how often did he hit and rape you,” the police officer who sat across from you asked.

Steve noticed how small you looked, curled in on yourself.  He could see bruises on your face, your lip split open.  

“As often as he wanted to,” you replied with a soft shrug. “Mainly when I acted out though. If I did or said something he didn’t like, that’s when I would get it the worst.”

The cop spoke up.  “So he thought that beating and raping you would turn your attitude around?”

“It did.  It always did,” you whispered.

Steve jumped out of bed and marched to your door.  He wanted nothing more than to talk to you about all of this.  Right now.  

“Open Y/N’s door F.R.I.D.A.Y,” Steve commanded as he waited in the hallway.  

“I’m sorry Captain Rogers but I must say it is no use,” came the A.I’s voice.  

Steve put his hands on his hips, looking at your door.  He didn’t want to, but he would use force to open it.  He and Bucky agreed to give you all the privacy you needed, but he really needed to talk to you.  

“What do you mean F.R.I.D.A.Y?”

“Miss Y/N left her room and the building a half hour ago.”

Steve’s head snapped towards the elevator.  “With who?” he barked out as he rushed into his room and grabbed a black hoodie, pulling it over his head.  

“Nobody.  She left alone.”

Steve stilled his movements. Not only had you been acting out, like a brat, a damn child and throwing a glass object at his head.  Now you had left the tower, alone, in the middle of the night.  His hands were balled into fists, his jaw clenched tight like a clamp.  In this exact moment, Steve had enough.  He punched the door to his room.  The punch went clear through the door making a gaping hole.  Steve had snapped.

[peaches-writes]

felix’s arts and crafts!

skz of christmas day 2: handmade presents with felix

member: felix wc: 1.6k genre: fluff, roommates au, preparing for christmas w no plot lmao

the brownies

“Y/N, does two cups of flour make more brownies?”

“Ah, I really do think we should’ve bought more of these chocolate chips!”

“Y/N, can you look at my mix? Does it need more flour? I just think it kinda does.”

“Aah, I still haven’t finished everyone’s amigurumi—“

“Felix? Felix!” Having had enough of your roommate’s incessant worried monologue over your Christmas playlist, you finally rush over to your roommate on the other end of the kitchen island and grab him by his shoulders with a chuckle. Held down in place now, the doe-eyed boy is quick to comply and stares back at you curiously. “Can you slow down a bit? Relax!”

“B-But—“ He fumbles over his words at your sudden comment, raising an eyebrow before rubbing the nape of his neck. “Sorry, I—I’m just—just a bit worried!”

“A bit worried.” You roll your eyes playfully, moving your hands down to his and taking his first batch of brownies. “You should’ve thought more about that when you started promising everyone stuffed toys and food, hm?” You then return the brownie mix back on top of the island. When your gaze naturally glances down on the recipe he’s been trying to adjust, you then continue, “Okay, how about we start with this recipe first? How many did you put in already?”

Felix follows your eyes with a pout, taking a seat on a nearby high stool. “Just the flour and sugar.” He sighs when you take a longer peek at his bowl. “I only managed to put in two cups of flour and half a cup of sugar when it started overflowing.”

“The wet ingredients over there?” You pointed to another bowl on his side, extending your hands out to which he immediately replied by handing you the bowl. “It looks a bit lacking compared to the dry bowl.”

“It’s just one and a half stick of butter and three eggs then I gave up measuring.”

“And how much yield do you want? Compared to the original recipe?”

Felix’s eyes widened at the unfamiliar term before his brows naturally furrowed down in thought. “Huh?” He asks, a gesture that definitely makes you giggle.

“It means your recipe makes 16 brownies in one go so how much are you trying to achieve with more of the ingredients?” You elaborate more in answer, laughing even more as realization dawns on him. “Help me out here, I suck at Math too.”

The boy runs a hand through his blonde hair once with a hum. “A-Ah, well around 60? Or more? Something like that?”

“So four?” You ask next, more to challenge him now with his new knowledge.

“Yeah?” Your roommate slowly nods, still a bit unsure. When you nod back almost teasingly, he then repeats his gesture with more conviction. “Yup.”

With this, you then turn around to the overhead cabinets by your stove, taking out your extra supplies of the same ingredients. “Then we’ll have to add just a bit more in your mixes. Thank God we don’t have to reduce anything or it’ll be a waste.”

Felix is quick to follow you, trailing right behind you like a lost puppy while taking the heavier ingredients from your arms. “And the same goes for the cookies later, right?”

You nod again with a hum. “We’re going to bake for a whole army, Lix!” You joke, returning to the kitchen island once you’ve got everything on hand and placing them next to their respective wet and dry ingredient groups. “Now, we should multiply everything by four in the ingredients list—and maybe take out extra trays for later.”

“Even the fractions?” He frowns, picking up his recipe again.

“Yeah, I guess even the fractions.” You sigh back before giggling at his distressed face. “We might have to call in Changbin from next door later.”

-

the cookies

“You want to what?” 

Felix looks up at you with his best puppy eyes, his plastic gloved hands clasped together to his chest as he juts his lower lip down in a seemingly quivering pout. “Trust me on this one, please?” He asks while blinking rapidly. 

You swear if he was anyone else, you would’ve smacked him in the arm for trying to look cute. Instead, you rub your temples and tear your gaze away from him to the big lump of cookie dough melting on one of your last kitchen bowls. “I mean, adjusting the brownie and cookie recipes was one thing. Now you want to freestyle the cookies?” 

“Yeah, well, it’s just the shapes! I’m sure it’ll still cook the same!” He repeats, pouting even harder and even clinging to your arm this time when you try and turn away. “Please, please, please? Pretty please with all the cherries you want on top?!”

“But Changbin and Hyunjin have cookie cutters next door.” You point out, letting him cling onto you and even rest his chin on top of your shoulder anyway. “I can go and borrow some if you w—” 

“But Binnie and Jinnie only have those weird heart-shaped ones! I want to do cookies that look like the Gingerbread man!” 

You quirk an amused eyebrow at this. “Then shouldn’t we just stuck to an actual Gingerbread recipe?”

“But I want it to taste like cookies.” He argues back.

“It’s from our Shrek movie night last week, isn’t it?” You stifle a laugh, placing a hand over your mouth when he starts sulking while nodding slowly. “Fine, because you’re cute and Chan will can sense when you’re sad from the next building, we can try one first. Just one!”

Your roommate’s face lighten up once more, clapping his hands in delight. “Yay, thank you!”

“But I’m telling you, it’s gonna be a weird-looking cookie when it comes out.”

“It’s fine, we can just eat it for later!” Felix assures with a dismissive wave, finally letting go of your hand to pick up enough cookie dough for his little experiment. “I’ll make a big one that we can share for crocheting later, okay?”

“Sure, I’ll just go and check the brownies.”

-

the amigurumis

Your little cookie Gingerbread man, comically named Yongbok II when you sent a photo of it to all of your friends, lays on the coffee table with all of his limbs and a chocolate chip button on his button up ‘shirt’ eaten. As you’ve predicted, the big misshapen cookie came out looking weird and feeling crusty but it made Felix smile and laugh anyway.

That’ll have to do with letting your roommate experiment for today.

“Wait, pause!” You exclaim when your work-in-progress stuffed fox starts looking weird on a particular row, holding it in the same hand as your crochet hook before pressing pause on your phone with your freed hand. “Did I miss something?”

Felix tilts his head over to your direction, squinting his eyes playfully as he surveys your work up and down before resting his cheek on your shoulder blade and shrugging nonchalantly. “Looks fine to me.” He huffs, scooting closer to you to press play on your phone. “Why?” 

You hold your palm up in between the two of you and place your work on top of it, demonstrating the miniscule defect on the pattern. “It won’t flatten.” You point out, letting him poke the orange and white yarn a few times. “It’s not supposed to close in on itself until the tenth row.” 

“Have you tried counting the stitches?” He then asks and when you shake your head with a pout, you hear him chuckle and take your work from your hand gently. “Here, let me.” 

“It’s at least a hundred stitches now, I don’t want to start all over again.” You sigh in defeat, leaning back on the couch once Felix starts counting the stitches carefully under his breath. “Not to mention, we still have to do five more stuffed toys for the guys.” 

You see Felix wave a dismissive hand to you as he counts, holding the crochet circle so close to his face while his current work, an amigurumi stuffed toy puppy for Seungmin, rests on his lap with its tongue poking out. “I’ll do it for you if you want but just this row!” He assures you. “Only if you do a row of my puppy toy, though.” 

“But you’re almost done!” 

“And it’s only fair!” 

Your roommate then looks up at you with a teasing glare, holding our stare until you scoff and give in. “Fine.” 

“Justice.” He sticks his tongue out before his eyes suddenly widen, realizing that he didn’t take note of the last number he was counting on. “Wait, I lost count!”

- 

the gift wrappings 

“I just think it’s more economical to put them all in the same bags instead of having them separate for each guy.” Felix repeats his argument, eyes darting everywhere on the busy coffee table. 

“I’m telling you, Lix, literally putting them in one bag with no divider or anything will spoil the food and get yarn shedding all over it.” You scold him as you continue packing the brownies and cookies in small goodie bags. “Besides, we’ll pair the goodie bags with the stuffed toys in bigger paper bags for each of the guys later. You didn’t have a problem with this a while back so why are you complaining now?” 

“Well...” He trails off with a pout, reluctantly going back to wrapping the stuffed toys in red and green Christmas wrapper. “I don’t want to wrap these anymore.” 

“You’ve only wrapped Chan’s wolf toy so far.” You roll your eyes. rummaging through the mess of haphazardly cut gift wrappings and old ribbons for the only present he’s wrapped so far. As you find it next to the Tupperware of brownies, only then does a realization dawns upon you and you immediately ask, “Hold on, did you buy the greeting cards?” 

“Ah, well, Y/N, you see...” 

-

december 18 (yang jeongin)

skz of christmas (masterlist)

m.list

@skzwriternet

[statticscribbles]

Cut

Summary: Sweet Pea/Plus sized! Reader Request: Where he finds out she a cutter/really depressed TW: Self harm, descriptions of self harm and self harming behaviour

Nobody had actually been bullying you. Nobody even cared that you had been a chubbier than average kid, and nobody cared when you didn’t lose the weight during puberty. It wasn’t as if everyone ignored you; you had friends; acquaintances as well. You were well liked; most of Riverdale high knew you to some degree.

Which is maybe why you think no one asks. When your stretch marks seem a little too pink, or you have one too many scratch marks from the ‘skin being itchy’ as you claimed over and over; no one asks, just like always. You add to the lies, your dog, the stray cat down the street; being clumsy, during gym. You had others lined up and back up plans as well as back up plans for your back up plans.

When Sweet Pea asks you out you’re surprised; waiting for him to confess it was a joke like Chuck did; or say what Darren had said; about how he had a thing for big girls. He did no such thing and as the weeks and an entire two months go by you accept he does actually love you. Of course this brings a new fear; the fear of him finding out.

It wasn’t a relapse you assured yourself; you had to stop for it to be a relapse you ammend, fingers brushing over the already forming scabs. You chew your lip returning the blades you keep into the cheap pencil sharpeners; no one bothers question how often you replace them; they’re so cheap its no wonder they break. Another excuse, another lie for you to keep track of. You know it’s going to catch up to you, but it doesn’t matter now. “Y/N?” “Yeah?” “You up for Pop’s later?” “Yeah of course let me just shower and I’ll be ready!” “I can join you.” Sweet Pea mumbles through the door and you laugh. “Then we’d never leave.” You grin and can hear him laughing back. “One of these days you’ll take me up on it!” You roll your eyes fondly, fingers tracing over your scars and scabs before you finish getting dressed, turning the shower on and wetting your hair in the sink before turning the shower off and shaking your head to let the water splatter slightly.

“Babe you’re a mess.” Sweet Pea laughs as you peak out from the bathroom grinning. “Which is why we can never shower together, can you imagine where we’d get the water.”You  lean forward to kiss him and he grin pulling you from the bathroom and towards the door still kissing you.

You’ve only been in Pop’s for a hour but you can feel the itch dragging up and down your skin; you can feel it crawling underneath and you’re practically sitting on your hands leaning forward desperately trying to pay attention to whatever Cheryl is saying. “Aw sweet food’s here! Now you can finally shut up about that stupid Vixen thing.” Fangs laughs pulling his burger over and Sweet Pea nudges yours, you smile nodding hoping you don’t look pained. “Y/N you okay? You look kinda pale.” “Just hungry, didn’t eat breakfast cause someone took too long in the shower.” You turn grinning despite the sharp look in your eyes. “Says the one who took almost a half hour!” “I was shaving.” Toni nods when Sweet Pea shakes his head. “You ever try to just shave your legs? That takes like fifteen minutes you know that; adding in whatever else she wants to shave.” “What else is there.” Sweet Pea laughs when you shake your head.

“Nothing you’re going to see with that attitude.” You pull the burger closer the ache returning and you squirm trying not to grimace at the spikes in pain you get when the new cuts rub against your clothes. You know it’s not enough right now but it’s going to have to be. “Well now we have to go back early so I can see exactly what you shaved right Y/N?” You nod pretending to focus on your burger not the panic at coming up with another excuse.

“You okay babe, you know I don’t want to push you; if you don’t want to show me it’s okay.” Sweet Pea starts to apologize as you make it back to his trailer. “No it’s not; I just. I’m nervous but not about being with you.” He looks relieved but confused. “Give me a second.” You sigh pulling him into the trailer and locking the door. “Okay don’t- what are you doing?” “Making tea, my mom used to say it’d help with stress and you seem really freaked out plus I need something to do so I don’t just grab you and hide with you under the blankets.”

“I; you know I’m depressed; like clinically right?” He nods sitting on the couch eyes occasionally flicking to the kettle he’d put on. “And you know how I talk about coping mechanisms; how there are ones I use.” “Yeah like how sometimes you just need an hour alone in the bedroom with me out of the house.” He nods eagerly when you smile. “Yeah; there are also bad ones. That I use.” You watch his hands flutter by his side. “I hurt myself. A lot. All the time. Which is why I don’t let you seem me naked. I want to I just; I look so horrible.” Sweet Pea nods slowly. “You don’t look horrible to me; no matter what your skin looks like; I love you, because of who you are, not how you look.” “ You don’t mean that.” “I do, even if I see what your skin looks like; if I never see it; that doesn’t matter I want you to be comfortable with me; just like I am with you. Do you want to show me?” You hesitate chewing your lip but nodding.

“Would it help if I stripped as well?” “Why?” “Well less awkward if we’re both naked yeah?” You shrug a little and he tugs his shirt off. “See I started; you can if you want. If not I’m jut going to chill like this and-“ Sweet Pea watches you as you pull your shirt off. You can see the way his eyebrows furrow as he follows the lines wrapping your hips and sides. “When I put my arm around you; does that hurt?” He steps forward and you nod; you watch his hand pull back. “It’s okay; it’s sort of…” You trail off hesitating.

“Do you mean to leave scars?” His voice is soft and you nod. “It’s comforting to see it.” You can’t help how your fingers run over the older ones, white and thin; barely there lines that could be creases of odd skin if looked at too fast. “You like it because it hurts just as much as the creation right?” You frown looking up to him swallowing. “I never thought of it that way.” “It makes sense, as much as there is relief in hurting; the scars are just as bad; you have to hide them; you can’t let anyone see or it’ll be worse; that’s a way to hurt yourself. Just like cutting.” He steps closer arm circling your shoulder and down your back. He kisses your forehead. “Just like getting into fights and having a short temper.” He mumbles and you tense.

“People don’t think twice about when I get hurt anymore; it’s not that nobody cares; they do, but it’s normal; why would they worry about what’s normal.” He half grins resting his forehead against yours. “Sweet Pea.” “I’m here; sorry I was trying to relate, trying to help I just thought it would be nice to hear. Well not nice but; you know..” He trails off and you nod. “Can you kiss me?” “Can you; are you okay with this?”

“You kissing me? That’s why I asked.” “No, uh being shirtless.” “I mean do you want me to put my shirt back on?” You try your best not to be disappointed. “No babe, I mean the view is incredible you have an amazing body; just, I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.” “Oh, um no I’m not.” He grins leaning forward. “Aww babe are you blushing?” “No.” You turn away from him; and he takes advantage kissing your neck.

“No matter what’s going on in your life I’m here. Talk to me if you need. I love you; every part of you; every inch, no matter how you feel about yourself I love you, nothing you do will change that about me; I’m always going to love you.” You nod turning back to kiss him on the lips, you can feel his hands hovering over you sides and you lean forward pressing your chests together.

Support My Writing?

[reallyreallyreallytrying]

The Ferret

I was reading about ferrets, and I read about how they go scurrying through the rabbit tunnels in the dark and they get the rabbits. And I thought, Hey, that's great! You could make a superhero about ferrets. The Ferret. Brave, fierce, slinky, kinda sexy. Right? Kinda sexy! "Ferreting out crime". Sounds like a thing. So I got out the ol' credit card and I had three interest free months, which felt like a sign. Right? What are the odds? Are you kidding me? So I went down to the fabric store and got a bunch of fabric and went to the hardware store for some wire and tools and whatnot and then went to a tailor with a pic of a ferret I printed out at the library and pointed at it and said "Make ME... into THIS." And I gave the guy three hundred bucks. The guy was like, whoa. I could see he was into it. Making a superhero costume, are you kidding me right now. Bucket list. Um, yes. And I handed him the bag of box cutters and LED lights for the outfit and he nodded and slid it under the table. I knew right then and there we had a collaboration going on. Like this guy was gonna be my Alfred, if Alfred made outfits for Batman. So the next day I came back and honestly the guy, the tailor, his name was Rod, nailed it. I basically gave Rod the job on the spot, although it's not a job so I didn't. There was a cute little furry cap with sharp teeth that hung over my forehead and red LED light eyes that glared fiercely. It was connected to a cape that went down my back but also had sleeves which had razor sharp claws at the end. Literally razor sharp because they were blades from the box cutters I bought. It was so cool. I put it on and twirled and snarled. I pounced on Rod and pretended to nibble on his neck a little. He was cheering. He loved it. I went out looking for crime that night but I couldn't find anything. Not to worry. It just meant that the streets were safe. I kept going out but I still couldn't find any crime. That's a good thing, right? You don't WANT to see crime. There must have been no crime, I figured. But then I checked the news and there'd been loads of crime. I just hadn't been in the right place at the right time. Rod suggested it was because I was too visible with my light brown fur. Crooks were seeing me and leaving the area. So we rebuilt the costume from the ground up with black fur. Now I was gonna blend in at night and the black fur would hide stains better too. I went out again but I still couldn't find any crime. I was starting to get bummed out. I was ready to stop crime but none of it was happening in the right place. I had to get back to basics. I thought about what a ferret would do. Well, for one, it wouldn't be a fucking HOBBY. Get the rabbit or die. That's the ferret's code. I needed to think like a ferret or it was just a costume. I stopped eating and vowed not to start again until I'd stopped a crime. The first night I felt pretty good but didn't find any crime. The second night I was light-headed and I found a guy breaking into a car. He said it was his car but I didn't believe that shit. I punched him and he came back at me so I slashed him with my ferret claws. Fair's fair I probably slashed a bit too hard because he started bleeding real bad and just died. Anyway I ran home and I got to eat dinner because I'd done Ferret justice. I ate two whole boxes of Easy Mac and went to sleep. The next day I felt so good. I went out again and found a guy stealing mail and a guy who looked suspicious. I gave them Ferret justice and ate some fried chicken and Mountain Dew. The next night there were cops everywhere so I stayed in. The night after that too. I was getting hungry. After four nights I put on my Ferret costume anyway and went out anyway. I'd barely started looking for crime when the cops stopped me. Hey, what's the deal? I asked. Nothing here but a ferret fan who loves justice. As if there's any other kind. But they had other questions for me. Of course, I wasn't interested in working within the confines of the law. What, does Batman turn up for his shift? Does Spiderman take anyone’s shit? More importantly do ferrets? You ever seen a ferret with a boss? No fuckin' way. A ferret is long and wriggly. A ferret is beholden to no one but the tunnels. Anyway, I wriggled on out of there but it kinda meant things were hotter than ever. And I still hadn't eaten. I couldn't go home on account of the situation with the police so I went down to the canal and found a nice dry stormwater pipe. It was cosy and had great acoustics. I hissed and snarled a bunch until I was happy with how my hissing and snarling was sounding. It was embarrassing that I'd even tried to fight crime before I'd really nailed down my hissing and snarling. A superhero needs an audible calling card, like Batman's gravelly voice or the "shink" sound Wolverine's claws make when they come out. The other great thing about the pipe was that it was like a tunnel. Like a tunnel but made of concrete, which is essentially exactly what The Ferret's secret base would be like. Right? Aesthetic references to the source animal but reinforced with cutting edge human tech? Are you kidding? Am I wrong here? So it was basically perfect. I couldn't run the risk of being stopped by the lumbering institutions of the law before I'd had the chance to tangle with a bona fide supervillain so I laid low in the pipe for a few more days, maybe a week. I was getting real hungry so I practised by catching and eating some seagulls since I figured it was basically allowed under a more relaxed definition of my character. I had no idea what supervillains were out there or how to find them. I needed to do some serious research. I was open to relocating, if necessary, if another city had a supervillain who needed dealing with. Switching cities was generally frowned upon in superhero lore but who'd be the asshole if I had no supervillain to fight and another city had a supervillain with no hero to stop them and I did nothing? Me. Yeah. And I wasn't OK with that. I rolled my costume up and stuffed it into a backpack and headed downtown for observation/research but disappointingly the first cop I saw yelled and started chasing me. I ducked down a back alley and hid behind a bin and he ran right past. Just then I noticed that he hadn't radioed for backup. And he didn't have a partner. I was pretty sure all cops had to have a partner, which made this guy pretty suspicious. At best he was impersonating a police officer but at worst he was a supervillain's goon. I felt proud that the supervillain, whoever they were, had already caught wind of me and considered me enough of a threat to send their goons after me. I sprinted up behind the fake cop and tackled him. He hit the ground hard and I wrapped my thighs around his neck and snarled. "Tell me who you work for!" I squeaked. He couldn't talk super well on account of my thighs but I could've sworn that he gurgled "The Bunny", although it could have been "get off me". Either way it was exactly what one of The Bunny's henchmen would have said. I realised I'd never actually had the time to deliver a catchphrase to a criminal before, since all my previous punishments had been delivered in an active combat scenario. I flicked on my LED light eyes and hissed "Nighty night," which I didn't feel great about, to be truthful, since it didn't really have a strong thematic link to the character, but it wasn't like the goon was in any position to critique it. I slashed his face. In fairness it was only supposed to be a Zorro-style superficial wound that would scar in the shape of a permanent reminder that he'd tangled with The Ferret, but at the last second I lost my balance and leaned in a bit too much. I didn't want another one to die so I was actually leaning forward trying to stem the bleeding when the other cops ran around the corner, not gnawing on the guy as they claimed. Turned out he had called for backup. Doesn't mean he wasn't crooked. In any case, if the rumour got around that The Ferret was found gnawing on a crooked cop it'd pretty much increase my reputation on the streets. Once I busted out of prison. Which I will.

[funnylori]

Baking alchemy: if the recipe says use a pan, use metal; if the recipe calls for a dish, use ceramic or glass. Otherwise you may need to adjust baking times and temperatures to get an even bake.

For example, my bread pans are glass, and that's why the inside of my banana bread is crazy moist (ie almost underbaked) and the outside is so browned. Though, using glass for pies instead of the recommended metal pans is handy if you're new to pastry. It will help you see when the bottom of your pie is truly baked. It can be dangerous to check the bottom of hot pies, so use the buddy system. Don't be spilling hot pie filling all over yourselves.

Also, know your oven. Get an analog oven thermometer and leave it in there. I used to have one I'd hang from the center rack so I had a good idea of how it was doing. My oven is hella slow on a good day. I think the element needs maintenance.

I like to use chocolate chip cookies as my gauge of how an oven is heating. The time it takes them to be perfectly baked is what I keep in mind for everything else. Normally the recipe I use says it should take 9 minutes to bake but they are still raw then. It takes my oven 12 minutes to get them browned on the edges and still have just baked but still gooey soft centers. If you're not confident about your mixing skills using store bought dough is totally okay! It's honestly easier to check temperature with dough you know is consistently made.

☆☆☆WRITE NOTES DIRECTLY IN YOUR COOKBOOK☆☆☆

You'll learn new things every time you make something. Adjustments you like. Things that work or don't work. You'll 100% forget what those are at some point and then be frustrated. Also, use bookmarks like little sticky note tabs to help you find your favorites.

Anyway, I'm making a rhubarb pie for my dad because tomorrow is his birthday. I'm not sure how I'm gonna deliver the pie to my dad safely, but that's another story. But I make pretty good pie crusts because I use my dad's recipe. It's flakey, tender, and tastes good. I hate chewy or though crusts. My dad mixes his dough so gently it's often not strong enough to actually get a slice of pie out of the pan in one piece. It tastes so good we don't care. I like to mix mine just a touch longer so it holds up better, but it's really easy to over mix it and make a tough crust.

Tonight my husband was chatting about how one of his friends was getting help making pastry for crusts via zoom meetings. He said I should make a video of mine and share it. Maybe I will if people are intrested. I can do the fancy way and the bare bones no special tools way. I like to bake and I like to make things accessible to everybody. I still wrote it out for him, you can have it too.

If you have read this far my perfect pie crust recipe is 3 parts flour to 1 part fat and a pinch of salt.

For me that's usually 2 cups all purpose flour and 2/3rds cup shortening for a single crust in my pyrex 9.5 inch glass pie pan with a little extra left over for decorating. Fruit pies need a top crust or lattice so in that case I'd use 3 cups flour and 1 cup shortening.

Blend the fat with the flour in a bowl. I use a pastry blender cutter thing (not the kind that are a bunch of round wires with a handle, but the kind that's more metal with flat blades like this one). You can also use a couple of butterknives for this. Use a twisting motion with the pastry blender to cut the fat into the flour until it's combined into about pea sized chunks. I like to scrape the blender with a knife or fork every few turns. Don't over work it or it will get tough! You want the chunks, it'll become flakey bits. There will still be some finer bits that are more flour.

Stir in ice cold water a couple tablespoons at a time until things just start coming together. Like, be cautious with the water and use a fork to combine it with the dough with kind of a whisking motion to moisten the dry flour bits and get them sticking to the floury fat bits. How much water you need varies with the weather and humidity. Definitely don't get the dough too wet. If it gets sticky you've gone too far. You only need enough water to get it all to just come together into a ball. Once it starts coming together you'll see it's kinda shaggy, that's your flakes! Gently push it together into a ball and flatten into a puck or disk. Push the edges together so it rolls out evenly later. Don't knead the dough! If it's not staying together maybe give it one or two light kneading turns in the bowl but no more or you'll get a tough crust. If it's warm or a hot day, wrap the dough in plastic and put it in the fridge for a bit. Keeping the fat cold keeps the flakes.

When you're ready, generously flour a flat surface and roll it out. If you're worried about picking it up to put it in a pan, roll the crust out in between two floured sheets of waxed paper. Beware that it'll totally still stick to the waxed paper if you aren't careful to keep checking that it's floured enough while rolling it out. I have a fancy silicone mat I got to put on my table when I roll out crusts, but it's honestly a pain in the ass and stuff still sticks if there isn't enough flour.

For sizing, hold your pie pan upside down over the crust and roll at least two inches wider than that. Drape the crust into the pie pan, don't stretch it. Lift the sides and ease it into the bottom. Wrap it a little bit over the edge of the pan and trim the excess. This recipe has a habit of shrinking in the pan, so having a bit extra around the edges helps keep it in place. Prick all over with a fork if blind baking / baking it empty, and bake at 425°F until golden brown, which is probably around 15 minutes.

For my fat I always always use butter flavored vegetable shortening such as crisco*. It tastes good and works consistently well. Butter is sometimes used, so is lard. They have different water contents and work differently so experiment with them before expecting them to work with my recipe. Shortening is solid and works good at room temperature. Butter should be worked colder and has water in it which changes how bakes turn out. I've never tried making a butter or lard for crust myself though.

My mom always made us a treat with the extra crust bits cut off from the pie pan. She'd put the funky strips on a cookie sheet and dust them with cinnamon and sugar and bake it them for us. Usually she'd forget to pull them out until we could smell them burning around the edges.

*when trans fats were banned because they're truly awful for the body, the formulation of vegetable shortening changed to include palm oil, which is so so bad for the environment and deforestation destroying orangutan habitat. It might be option for crusts, but it can have ethical issues as well. Check your ingredients and where they come from. Bob's Red Mill has an article on shortening, what it is, why you want to use it for crusts, and what it can be made of.

Anyway, I love pies and have strong feelings about crusts that goes quite deep. I can keep going, if y'all wanna know more about anything. Lemme know if you want directions to good videos or if I should make one myself. I'll post a picture of the pie tomorrow once it's set and we cut into it.

[yourdeepestfathoms]

Piggy’s Had Too Much Wine

This fic is highkey a vent because my younger brother is an asshole who never stops calling me fat

DISCLAIMER: By writing this fic I am not saying that Katy Richardson is fat. She is not. And even if she was, she would still be drop dead gorgeous. This is a fictional story about the character she plays, not her.

Word count: 3159

TW: Body shaming, body image issues, self harm

--------------------

  “Damn, girl, you got enough in your face?”

Joan looked up from the forkful of food she had just put in her mouth and blinked at Anne smirking across the table at her. She chewed slowly, like a sheep deep in thought, then said after swallowing, “Huh?”

Anne nodded at her meal. “You got a lot to eat there.”

  “I know,” Joan said, shifting in her seat. “I’m hungry.”

  “That’s new,” Cathy observed. “Usually you don’t like eating during lunch breaks at work.”

  “Well, we’re not at work,” Joan said. “This is a restaurant.”

  “We know that,” Cleves said. 

  “And the food is good here.” Joan went on hastily. “I like it.”

  “Maybe a little too much,” Kitty said from behind her glass, earning her a sharp, but wounded look from Joan, which she countered with a petty sip of her drink.

  “I’m paying, anyway,” Joan continued. “Why does it matter what I get?”   “It doesn’t, honey,” Aragon settled her. “Don’t worry about it.”

Joan nodded and then took another bite of her meal. She couldn’t help but feel a little awkward as she did so, as if she were eating like a pig out of a slop trough, but tried to ignore it. It was fine. Everybody had to eat. There was nothing embarrassing about it.

  “So…” Anne started again. Aragon gave her a warning look, but she either ignored it or didn’t see it. “What made you want to come out with us? Usually you never go out.”

Joan shrugged. “I got lonely. And there isn’t anything good to eat at my apartment, so…” She shrugged again.

  “Ah, so that explains why you’re stuffing your face like there’s no tomorrow,” Kitty nodded wisely.

Joan ruffled, face inflaming with red. “I said I was hungry!” She yelped, her voice pitching slightly.

  “Don’t get mad,” Kitty held her hand sup. “I thought you were just trying to starve yourself or something.”

  “You do never eat,” Jane put in her two cents.

  “Well, I am now,” Joan grumbled.

  “Do you have a date?” Cleves asked. “Maybe you’re looking for someplace good to take them?”

Anne snorted. “If Joan had a date, then I hope they have a belly kink because she’s going to be packing after this.” She took a sip of her drink, then breezily added, “More so than she usually is.”

A few giggles swept through the tables, while others snapped their heads around to gauge Joan’s reaction. And she did not look happy about what had been said.

Joan’s fork was raised up for her to take another bite, but frozen in midair. Bright red consumed her face like the blooming of a rose in spring. She unconsciously wrapped her free arm around her stomach while slowly setting her fork down with the other. She sat hunched against the table for a moment, then was grabbing her purse and dumping money out on the table.

  “You can pay with this,” She mumbled.

  “Come on, Joan,” Anne said, rolling her eyes. “Don’t be such a baby. It was just a joke.”

But Joan doesn’t listen to her. She stood up and shoved her chair in roughly. Tears of humiliation could be seen shining in her eyes.

  “Oh my god,” Anne groaned. “Are you going to cry? Are you serious? You’re literally thinner than half of us here! What do you have to cry about? Or even be embarrassed about?”

Still, Joan doesn’t listen. She slung her purse of her shoulder and stormed out of the building, her arms wrapped firmly around her stomach the entire time.

------

When Joan got home, she shoved her fingers down her throat and cried. So much for a good meal. At least she got to pay for it.

------

That night, Joan stood in the shower with a box cutter poised over her exposed belly. She wondered what it would be like to find clarity in its blade. Cutting off pieces of herself would make her feel more whole. A heavy decision with a light outcome. It would just be like how they cut meat at slaughterhouses.

Make yourself an animal. Make yourself less human. It’ll make the process easier.

But the pain was bright and sharp and unbearable, even with the smallest of slices, and she threw the box cutter at the wall.

Joan sunk to the floor, sobbing, thin trails of blood running from her stomach. The water dissolved the red into unfolding petals of flowers across her pale skin before sliding into the drain.

What did she have to be embarrassed about?

She looked at herself in the mirror after getting out of the shower and asked herself this. What does she have that makes her so embarrassing? What does she have to hate?

She wasn’t overweight. She wasn’t obese. In most people’s terms, she was the normal example of thin. It was just her stomach, it wasn’t that bad, or that’s what they say.

  “You’re not even that big,” That’s because you haven’t seen her with her shirt off.

  “It’s just your stomach, it’s not even that bad,” But that’s what people see the most.

  “You aren’t fat so stop saying you are,” And she wished she could, but tell that to the insecurities rebounding inside of her head.

When she wears jeans, she has to pull the waistband up over her stomach or else she would be doing an impression of an English muffin for the entire day.

When she wears certain shirts, she has to suck in her stomach or else everyone will see the not-actual baby bump she’s sporting.

When people jokingly (or sometimes seriously) ask if she’s pregnant, she has to force herself to laugh along because if she shows that she’s offended they’ll pull out the “you’re not fat, you don’t know what it’s like, you have no right to be so whiny.”

When someone says they wished she had her body type, she has to act like it’s some worshiping compliment when really it just makes her feel guilty.

And she gets it, she does, she knows how hard it must be for actual overweight people, but goddamnit, when she heard someone point her body out so rudely, it was enough to destroy any confidence she had in herself.

She wanted to cut it all off. All of it. Until there’s nothing left but a gaping hole left in her abdomen from where her ugliness used to be.

If only.

------

Joan hadn’t expected not eating to be so goddamn hard. She only ate a few things a day, but having nothing at all was absolute torture. The fact that she couldn’t go twenty-four hours without food did not help her confidence in her weight or body, but it was also too much for her to handle. She /had/ to eat. She could find a different way to lose weight.

------

Exercise was a bust. Turns out she has really bad stamina. She threw up when she attempted to jog an entire trail. She walked the same trail the second time and still felt excruciating stitches in her side during the entire hike. And then she waterlogged herself and felt even sicker. AND THEN her legs were sore for days. She hated it.

------

When starving herself and jogging failed, Joan turned to the local gym. She bought herself a membership and went in with the most confidence she could muster. The first day, her foot slipped and she got her leg caught in the turning pedals of the bike machine. In her attempt to escape, she sprawled right out of the seat, screaming. She hasn’t gone back since.

------

Two weeks have passed since the incident at the restaurant. Joan was still thinking about it, no matter how hard she tried to distract herself. Anne’s words and the laughter that followed just kept rebounding through her skull.

Hunching over her work desk, Joan carefully felt her stomach. She hated how soft and pudgy it was, as if she were actually pregnant like how people liked to joke, but with a deflated baby. She poked the roll of fat and wrinkled her nose in disgust. Her nails curled into the skin as her anger mounted.

Why did she have to look like this? 

She had rewatched the recordings of the Sunday Sessions and noticed how much her stomach stuck out. Had she always looked that fat? Why didn’t anyone say something? Were they laughing at her while the Live went on? Were they looking? God, she even looks awful in her overalls. If she can’t wear her overalls anymore, then what’s the point of anything?

Joan whimpered. She scratched harder at her belly.

Cut it off. Cut it all off. Make herself good, whole, pretty. People will like her more. She’ll finally have friends. Yes. Yes. Good.

Tears streamed down her cheeks. Stinging pain streaked all across her poor tummy. Her fingernails were claws and she was marring herself.

Give them a reason to like her. Just don’t let them see what lies underneath. Just smile and be pretty and stay thin. Cut it off.

Joan wondered what would happen if she scratched too deep. What if her skin split open? She’s heard of evisceration that has happened like that, granted it usually wasn’t caused by excessive clawing because of body hatred. Would pulling out some of her organs make her thinner? Surely she didn’t need her large intestines /that/ much. It had it in its name- “large.” It’s too big. It takes up too much space in her. It’s definitely making her look so swollen and gross.

Pull it out

  “Joan?”

Joan’s hands froze. Her entire body froze. She swallowed thickly, shutting her eyes and cursing herself in her mind. Then, she’s wiping the tears from her face and turning to the queen in her doorway.

  “Yeah?” 

Jane peered at Joan curiously. Strangely, the usual annoyance in her gaze was missing. She even looked a little worried.

No, no-- Jane doesn’t care about her. Jane thought she was fat, just like everyone else.

  “Are you alright?” Jane asked.

  “What? Oh, yeah. I’m okay.” Joan said. She forced a light laugh. “I was watching some animal videos. You know The Dodo? God, those always make me cry! Don’t tell the director, please? I don’t want him to think I’m slacking.”

Jane looked at her computer screen, which definitely did not have an animal video on it, then nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

  “So, what did you need?” 

  “Oh, uh. Tim needs you. Something about lighting malfunction.” Jane said.

  “A music director’s work is never done,” Joan chuckled dryly. She got up and walked out into the hallway, Jane stepping back with her. When she closed the door, faint bloody smears were left on the knob.

She and Jane both noticed it, along with the blood on her fingertips, but neither said anything.

------

You lose weight when you’re stressed. You also gain weight when you’re stressed. The fact that Joan was worried that her costume was tighter than usual does not help the latter.

------

The costume was definitely tighter. Or maybe it was always this tight? NO, there’s no way… Well, whatever it is, it’s making the waistband cut uncomfortably into her belly when she sits down. But maybe it rupturing her organs from the tightness may not be so bad. The loss of mass inside of herself could help her lose weight.

------

Joan tried to not eat again. It’s working a little. She’s restraining herself well enough. But it’s awful, so awful. The hunger pains are the worst.

------

  “Joan?”

Joan turned to the doorway of her dressing room to see Aragon standing there. 

  “Yes?”

  “Are you almost done?” Aragon asked.

Joan furrowed her eyebrows at her paperwork. “No.”

  “Wonderful,” Aragon said. “Come on.”

Joan blinked. “What?”

  “Come on,” Aragon said again. “We’re going to my house for dinner.”

  “Wha-- But I said I had work?”

  “It doesn’t matter right now. Let’s go.”

Joan hesitated, then gathered her belongings and walked out with Aragon. If it weren’t for her undying loyalty to the queens and that she was kinda afraid of Aragon, she might have refused. Too late now, though.

  “What are we having?” Joan asked meekly on the drive to the queen’s house.

  “Lasagna,” Aragon answered. “And, no, before you ask, I’m not going to add every single existing spice into it.” She rolled her eyes. “Can you believe that Anne really thought that?”

That got a tiny giggle out of Joan. Aragon flashed her a quick smile, then focused on the road ahead of her.

  “I hope you’re hungry.”

  “I am a little,” Joan said, and that’s the moment her stomach decided to growl obviously loud. Her face flushed bright red and she wrapped her arms around her midsection as Aragon laughed.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” Aragon chuckled.

Joan remained flustered for the rest of the short car ride. And then she was just embarrassed when they pulled up to the queen’s house and realized she was going to have to eat in front of them again. She was already preparing herself for the humiliation.

Weirdly, though, the house was empty when they walked in.

  “Everyone is out eating,” Aragon said, catching Joan’s confused expression. “So it’ll just be us.”

  “Oh… I’m sorry you had to miss that.”

Aragon waved a dismissive hand. “Nonsense. It’s quite alright. Now come help me reheat this lasagna.”

Half an hour later, they were eating. Except Joan just stared at her plate, wringing her hands anxiously in her shirt. Her stomach was dying for the freshly made lasagna, but she really didn’t want to add the calories to her already thick body.

  “Joan? Aren’t you going to eat?” Aragon asked.

  “Oh, uhh-- I’m not that hungry, actually.” Joan said.

  “But I thought you were earlier?”

  “That was earlier.” 

And then Joan’s stomach growled. Redness enveloped her face as she hunched her shoulders in and looked at the floor. Aragon gave her a sympathetic smile.

  “Eat, honey. Please.”

So Joan does eat. She eats more than she actually wanted and after four plates she feels stuffed and sick- both physically and mentally.

  “You really were hungry, huh?” Aragon mused, picking up Joan’s plate. Joan whimpered below her. Instantly, her maternal instincts flared to life. “Joan?” She knelt beside the chair and set a hand on Joan’s back. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

Joan sobbed. She looked up at Aragon and tears were rapidly streaming down her cheeks.

  “Oh, sweetheart… Come here.” Aragon pulled Joan into her arms and the girl slid off the chair to be enveloped in them. She noted that Joan didn’t hug back, rather kept her hands firmly gripping her stomach. Things were starting to fall into place. “Shh, shh… It’s alright, baby. It’s alright.”

  “No, no,” Joan shook her head. “No, it’s not. It’s not, Catalina, I--” She practically screamed. “I hate myself so much.”

  “Joan…” Aragon helped Joan up so she could sit on the couch. The girl instantly curled into her upon sitting down. “Joan, honey, why? What’s wrong?”

  “I-I--” Joan cut herself off with a tight whine.

  “Is this about what Anne said?” Aragon asked.

Joan nodded with a feeble whimper.

Aragon looked absolutely enraged. “Goddamnit, that bitch--” She hissed. She pulled Joan against her firmly. “I’m so sorry, baby girl. This has been eating you up, hasn’t it?”

Joan nodded again. “It’s--it’s all I’ve been thinking about. It’s been killing me, Catalina, it’s been killing me…” She sobbed into Aragon’s chest. “A-and I know it’s stupid because I’m not overweight, not really, so I don’t have the right to complain, b-but--”

  “Oh no. Don’t you dare.” Aragon pushed Joan back and cupped her tear-stained face, making the girl look her in the eye. “Don’t you dare say that, Joan. You have every right to feel the way you do. You can be upset if you want to, regardless of your body type. You can be tall or short, black or white, skinny or fat- it isn’t just overweight people who have body image issues. So don’t be guilty over that, honey.” She brushed some hair out of Joan’s face. “But just know that the things you are thinking are not true.”

Joan pulled away and shook her head. “They are.” She wrapped her arms around her stomach again.

  “They are not.” Aragon said. “Joan, you are not fat.”

  “Yes I am!” Joan cried. “Have you SEEN my stomach? I’m fat, Catalina! I’m fat and gross and--” She dissolved into tears again.

  “I have seen your stomach, Joan.” Aragon said gently. “Am I supposed to be disgusted by it?”

Joan nodded, not looking at Aragon.

  “Why?”

  “B-because,” Joan stammered. “It’s ugly…”

  “Honey, you are not ugly.” Aragon said. “You are anything but ugly. You are very, very beautiful.”

Joan answered with only a tiny, “mmmm.”

Aragon pulled Joan back into her arms. Joan curled into them, her head finding its spot on her chest.

  “I don’t care about what you look like, baby. You’ll always be beautiful in my eyes. Not ugly or fat.” Aragon said.

  “P-please don’t say I’m not fat,” Joan begged quietly. “I-I can’t-- I can’t believe you. Not right now. It’s too-- I--”

  “Shh,” Aragon pressed her head underneath her chin. “I understand, honey. But just know my opinion will never change about you. You will always be my perfect girl.”

Joan sniffled. “R-really?”

  “Really.” Aragon confirmed.

Joan was quiet for a moment, then nodded. She finally hugged Aragon back, practically burying herself against the queen.

  “I-I don’t know how long it’ll take,” Joan whispered. “For me to not see myself the way I do…”

  “That’s alright,” Aragon said. “I’ll be here helping you every step of the way.”

  “Thank you.” Joan nuzzled into Aragon’s warmth. She winced when her stomach cramped. “I think I ate too much…”

  “Oh, my poor baby,” Aragon cooed. She lowered one hand and rubbed comforting circles against Joan’s belly. “I used to do this with Elizabeth, you know. She was such a fussy girl.” She chuckled. “Don’t tell her I told you that.”

Joan giggled. “Your secret is safe with me.” She leaned her head against Aragon’s chest and relaxed into the feeling gliding across her full stomach. “I can see why she liked this, though.”

  “Oh yeah?” Aragon smiled at her. “I’ll have to see if she still does, then. Ha, she would be so red!”

Another giggle. “She’d kill you.”

  “I’d like to see her try.”

Joan smiled slightly. Her hatred for her own body was still clouding her mind, and she knew she was going to continue to have problems over it in the near future, but it suddenly felt like they would be easier to deal with. She had someone who loved her, who thought she was perfect and beautiful, regardless of what she or her stomach looked like. 

Well. At least there was one good thing about having a soft, chubby tummy. More room to get belly rubs.

[dreamcatcherfication]

Sting Me Once, Shame On You

Finally! Another one-shot! A request! I’ve written something new! And in the span of an hour and a half? I’m on a roll here.

Hello everyone, and welcome back to your daily programming. Today we have a fic based of off this request, and I was very interested in this one. Some people in my family are actually allergic to bees, but the descriptions I used for this story actually come from my brother, who’s allergic to nuts. I’ll probably explain it more in the tags, but it’s not important to the story. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this very specific fic! Sorry for any spelling/grammatical errors, I had literally no time to edit this, and I’m praying it’s the least bit coherent.

Writing Masterpost

If you want to send a request or a prompt, my inbox is always open! I publish a story at 8:00 AM PST everyday, so I’m always in need of new ideas. If you want to be tagged in my works, just let me know and I’ll be sure to tag you!

Prompts | More Prompts | The Trifecta of Prompts | Original Prompts

Trigger Warnings: Anxiety, fear, allergic reactions, bee stings, descriptions of swelling, difficulty breathing, hosptials

Summer days with the queens were spent out in the park, or walking to lunch together as they enjoyed each other's company. It was their main reprieve from the stress of the modern world and its constant moving. These few summer days were their moments to calm down and simply enjoy the company of each other and the beauty of the world. 

Today, the queens had decided for a relaxing picnic in their small garden. There wasn’t anything special, but the quality time they spent together was enough to make it a wonderful day. It was sunny for once, a blessing for the women who sat sprawled on the grass and blankets. It was more for aesthetic than anything, but a small woven basket sat in the center of the blankets, its top open to show the many foods Jane had managed to pack in there. 

Kat and Anne were off to the side, throwing a frisbee back and forth as they ran around the garden. Jane was unloading the basket, spreading the foods out for everyone to see. Cathy was on a lawn chair, reading a book while Anna stood behind her, in a perfect position to block the Sun from Cathy’s eyes. Aragon was sitting with Jane on the blankets, her eyes on the beheaded cousins, making sure they wouldn’t run into a wall when trying to catch the frisbee.

Anne threw the frisbee high, forcing Kat to jump to get it. Just barely, the girl grabbed the frisbee in her grip, keeping it from getting lodged in the bushes. “Nice catch, Kat!” Anne cheered for her cousin. Without responding, Kat threw the frisbee like a blade, the disk slicing through the air and impaling Anne in the stomach. Anne made an oof sound as she collapsed on the floor. “I’m good!” She wheezed, standing up. “All good.”

Over with Cathy, Anna had a hat on that blocked the sun from her eyes. “How long do you think that disk’ll entertain them?” Anna questioned, turning her head to face Cathy.

Putting a bookmark over her page, Cathy shut the book. “I would say not much longer, but you never know with those two.”

Chuckling, Anna helped Cathy out of the chair and they made their way over to Aragon and Jane. By now, Jane had managed to spread out all the food items on the blankets, plastic containers keeping them safe from ants. “We can start eating whenever the cousins are ready,” Jane told them. “But that might be a while,” she mentioned, raising an eyebrow at Kat and Anne who were still running around the garden, shouting with glee. 

“Anne, Kat -” Aragon called. Again, Anne had thrown the frisbee high, so when Kat turned her attention to Aragon, the disk went flying over her head. At the last moment, Kat attempted to jump and grab it, but this time she missed.

“Come on!” She groaned. The frisbee became lodged in the bushes, thick with thorns.

Anne crossed her arms and walked over to the other queens. “How are we gonna get it now? The bush is filled with thorns, there’s no way any of us can get that.”

Anna and Cathy exchanged looks and shrugged. Jane frowned at the thorns and shook her head. Kat seemed just as hesitant as Anne, already itching her skin subconsciously. “Sorry Anne,” the German queen offered, “You can always try later.”

“Yeah, we’ll probably do that,” Kat plopped down on the blankets next to Anna. Anna nudged her friend’s shoulder playfully as the two got comfortable.

Watching everyone’s nervousness, Aragon didn’t get it. “You can avoid the thorns, the frisbee isn’t that far inside,” Aragon pointed out.

Still, the others weren’t on board. “Maybe it’ll be better to come back with some weed cutters,” Jane said.

Aragon stood up and made her way over to the bush. “It’s my fault it got stuck, I’ll risk getting a scratch.” The others were silent, watching Aragon as she leaned down in front of the bushes. They were thick, and it was hard to see very far into them. But the bright red of the frisbee would’ve been visible for miles, so it wasn’t hard for Aragon to reach her hand in and find it.

Jerking her hand around, Aragon realized the frisbee was stuck on something. She yanked on it, harder and harder, trying to get the thing to come loose. “Ah!” she gasped, falling backwards, frisbee coming free. There was a small stinging in her arm, nothing too bad, but noticeable. Glancing down, Aragon realized it was a bee sting. The stinger was still stuck in her arm, but the little bee had fallen somewhere on the grass.

“Are you alright Catherine?” Jane called from the blankets.

Picking up the frisbee, Aragon made her way back to the others. “I’m fine. See? No problem.” She handed the frisbee back to Kat and nodded at Anne, who shot her a grateful smile. 

Sitting down next to Cathy, Aragon extended her arm. “I got stung by a bee in there. Do you know how to get it out?”

Cathy nodded and pulled out her bookmark, folding it in half so that it was thicker. “Hold still,” she instructed, putting the bookmark next to the stinger. “It’s not too deep, so this shouldn’t hurt.” Before Aragon could protest, Cathy quickly flicked the stinger with her bookmark, causing it to go flying out of Aragon’s arm.

Letting out a small hiss, Aragon shook her arm. It felt a little numb, but she chalked it up to being stung for the first time. “Thanks Cathy,” she rubbed her goddaughter’s shoulder.

For the next minute or so, everyone let their guards drop. There was nothing to be worried about, and the day was going by smoothly. That was until Aragon found that she was having trouble breathing. Her throat seemed a lot tighter than usual, and her eyes felt heavy. Her arm was starting to expand, a great pain enveloping it. She didn’t know what was happening, she didn’t know and because she didn’t know, she just didn’t know and -

Her thoughts ran wild, a panic starting to overtake them. “Aragon?” Kat noticed something was off first. “Is something wrong?”

Heaving a breath, Aragon reached her hand out. The others gasped at the sight of her swelling skin, covered in hives. “Oh my God,” Anna breathed out, leaning away from Aragon.

Right away, Cathy was on top of it. She pulled out her phone and dialled 999, knowing exactly what was going on. She was the only one who had seen the bee sting, and hopefully she would be able to get the right help in time. “Hello?” She said when the line picked up. “Hi yes, my friend is having an allergic reaction and we don’t have any way to help her.”

“What?” Anne had no idea what Cathy was talking about. She couldn’t bring herself to look at Aragon, terrified for the woman. Some innate fear had rooted itself in her chest, the crushing worry that Aragon wouldn’t be alright. That she had been powerless to help her friend. Anne knew fear, she would say she was more accustomed to it than most people she knew. But she had never felt the type of fear she felt now. The fear of not being able to help, and being the reason that someone she loved died. 

Following Cathy’s lead, Anna started to prop Aragon up. “Hey, talk to me.” She shook Aragon lightly. “We have to keep her talking,” Anna told the other three queens, making sure they were informed on what would help.

Jane put Aragon’s head in her lap, keeping it from falling on the hard ground. “Catherine,” she started, “what do you see in the sky?”

“Hmm?” Aragon mumbled. “Clouds. Lots of clouds.”

“Any shapes?” Kat questioned, moving to sit next to the spanish woman.

There was a moment of silence, suspended further with fear, but Aragon responded, “There’s a boat.”

“Good, what else?” Anna pushed.

“A sailor. Two sailors.”

Kat glanced over at Cathy who was still on the phone with emergency help. Hopefully, they wouldn’t be too long. The teenager turned her eyes to Anne, who was still sitting at the edge of the blankets. Her eyes were staring at the ground, unable to check on Aragon. “They’re waving goodbye. Goodbye to France and hello to England.” Anne’s ears perked up, but she didn’t move her head. “And, and, and.” Aragon choked on her words. “And there’s a maiden.” At that, Anne’s head shot up, her eyes wide with surprise. “Beautiful and carefree. But she carries a shadow around her. The other clouds block out the sun before it can reach her. Now there’s a man.”

All the queens, save Cathy and Aragon, shared concerned looks as they realized what story Aragon was telling in her haziness. “This man is big and large. Towering. He blocks out all the sun. The maiden is trying to run, but she can’t. She tries to fly away, but he catches her. And now she prefers the gilded cage to freedom.”

Before the story could continue, Cathy came up to them. “An ambulance is almost here. I need to go out front to let them in, you four stay here and keep her talking.”

Standing up faster than the speed of light, Anne was suddenly at Cathy’s side. “I’ll come with you.” Cathy ignored Anne’s strange behavior and jogged through the house to the front door. Kat watched her go, noticing how Anne refused to look anywhere but straight ahead, her muscles tight and unmoving. 

The three queens left sat in silence, staring at Aragon as she breathed heavily. The queen was muttering different words, her sentences incoherent. At least she was still talking, which was good. It felt like a million years before Anne and Cathy returned, followed by a handful of EMTs. They scooped Aragon up, one of them administering an epipen that would stabilize Aragon. After making sure she was stable enough to transport, she was picked up and carried to an ambulance.

Anne released the tension in her chest ever so slightly and fell to her knees. It wasn’t over yet, and her chest still felt like a million hands were squeezing it as tightly as possible. But Aragon would survive, and that was enough. She wouldn’t be killed by a stupid bee sting. Not today. 

The hospital was as typical as those seen in television shows, the halls white and the doctors in plain scrubs. Aragon was hooked up to an IV, her heart rate steady and her skin back to normal. No more hives, no more swelling, just her. Just Aragon. There was still a small puncture in her arm, a reminder of the original sting that caused all this panic.

A knock at her door alerted Aragon that someone was waiting for her. “Come in!” She called, adjusting in her bed so she could better see everything. 

After a moment, the door creaked open and Anna poked her head in. “Hey Catherine,” she greeted. “Are you okay to see all of us? The doctor said yes, but I wanted to warn you before everyone comes crashing in.”

“Yeah, send them in,” Aragon gave her consent, preparing for the appearance of her fellow queens.

The first person through the door after Anna was Kat. Her eyes twinkled with relief when she saw Aragon’s smile, and she came to stand at the foot of the bed. Next was Cathy, who rushed to her godmother’s side, gasping thankfully when she saw her happy and healthy. Then Jane, who came up beside Cathy and wiped a tear from her eye when she made eye contact with Aragon.

Finally, Anne sulked her way into the room. She came up beside Kat, her head down in shame. “I’m sorry,” she admitted immediately, addressing Aragon.

“What for?”

“I got the frisbee stuck in the bushes,” Anne confessed. “And you were the one who had to get it. I know it was your choice but… it’s my fault this happened.

Frowning, Aragon shook her head. “No, no it’s not. I got that frisbee under my free will, like you said. Therefore it can’t be your fault. It was my choice. Besides, I don’t blame any besides that bee.”

Hopefully, Anne glanced up and watched Aragon’s face for any sign that she was lying. “You mean it?”

“Yes, of course I do Anne.” Aragon opened her arms, and Anne came around the bed to hug her friend. “I’m fine, and I will be fine.”

“It’s probably a good thing Catherine was stung when she was,” Cathy commented.

It was Jane’s turn to be confused. “Why?”

“Because otherwise we never would have known she’s allergic to bees. And if something were to happen when we weren’t all together, things could’ve been a lot worse.”

A collective shiver travelled through the whole room. “I’m glad that didn’t happen,” Kat commented from in front of Aragon.

“Me too,” the older queen chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

“Of all things to be allergic to, why bees? Why not something cool, like poison ivy?” Anna tried to joke.

Kat laughed. “I don’t think it matters if you’re allergic to poison ivy. It’s poison ivy. It’s gonna suck anyway.”

Anna rolled her eyes and shoved Kat’s shoulder lightly. Cathy watched the interaction and raised an eyebrow at Anna who cheekily smirked back. “Once Aragon’s better, we can resume that frisbee match. Once we buy a beekeeper suit. Gotta be safe, right?”

“Really Anna?” Aragon laughed.

“Really.”

(They all laughed at the joke, but it was only a week later when Anne brought home an actual beekeeper suit that the experience became ingrained in their memories forever.)

-----------------------------------------

@radcowboyalmondtree @boleynhowards @annabanana2401 @babeebobo@dont-lose-your-queerhead @everything-insanity @mindless-pidgeon @i-wanna-dance-and-sing-six @thenicestnonbinary @its-totes-gods-will @thatbolxyngirl @thenameisnoone @sixqueendom @frogs-in-clogs @timetoriseabove

[rubyspearsmegamanproject]

36. Rumble In The Jungle

The episode begins with a view of the rainforest. We see exotic birds flying through the trees. The camera pans down onto the forest floor. Something, or someone, is cutting through the foliage. Cut Man manages to cut through the plants. He clears a path for a vehicle to drive through. A yellow vehicle drives through and past Cut Man. Another yellow vehicle drives up and parks next to Cut Man. The door opens up. Metal Man is driving the vehicle. He tells Cut Man "Get in, we've got a hundred more acres to fell!" Cut Man gets in and the vehicle drives away. A large cloud of dust is kicked up, choking the animals that have survived the destruction of their habitat.

Elsewhere in the world, Dr. Light and his robots are visiting some of Dr. Light's family. They are all chatting with one another. The aunt tells Mega Man "It's been a long while since we've seen each other!" Dr. Light is talking to his mother. Dr. Light gets a call on his phone. He excuses himself to go answer the call. He excuses himself to go answer the call. He answers the call. It's someone from Interpol. He tells Dr. Light that rainforest is being cleared down and no one they know is responsible for it. Dr. Light tells him "Sound like it must be Dr. Wily then..." The caller replies "It could very well be him." He wants Mega Man to investigate it. Dr. Light says to him "Me and my robots will be there as soon as possible!" He tells his family members "I'm so sorry, but we have to go." They all bid farewell and get into the hoverjet.

They all fly in the hoverjet to the rainforest. Dr. Light tells Mega Man, Roll, and Rush that someone is clearing vast areas of rainforest in a short time and he suspects that Dr. Wily has something to do with it. Mega Man tells him "I would not be so surprised as it is now against international law to cut down the rainforest." Dr. Light says to Mega Man "It may just be some local criminals, but we still need to investigate it!" Mega Man is okay with investigating the unlawful deforestation. He is happy to protect fragile habitats from destruction.

The hoverjet nears the rainforest. It flies over a clearing. Dr. Wily's robots are in the clearing getting rid of the remaining rocks and plants. They hear the hoverjet flying above them. They fire their weapons at it. Mega Man is piloting the hoverjet and sees on the radar that they hoverjet is coming under fire. He fires the hoverjet's laser at the robot masters below. Guts Man is hit by a laser and is knocked out. Proto Man charges up his cannon and fires a fully powered plasma blast at the hoverjet. It damages one of the hoverjet's wings. Mega Man sees that the hoverjet has been damaged. He tells Dr. Light "Get your parachute ready Doc! There's a very good chance that the hoverjet's gonna crash!" Dr. Light gets ready for the impending crash. Proto Man sees that the hoverjet is having trouble. He smiles evilly and tells Cut Man "Let's finish them off!" Cut Man laughs his usual disturbing laugh and throws the cutters  on his head at one of the hoverjet's wings. The cutter cuts off a good portion of the wing. Mega Man sees that the hoverjet is going to go down. He tells Roll "Help Dr. Light get out of the jet!" Mega Man has Rush be nearby him in case they need to get out of the Hoverjet themselves. Dr. Light and Roll escape the jet on Roll's jetski. Mega Man tells Rush "Rush! Jet mode! We gotta jet outta this jet!" Rush does so. Mega Man gets on Rush and they quickly fly out of the hoverjet. The hoverjet crashes into some trees and breaks up.

Mega Man and Rush catch up with Dr. Light and Roll. They see that Dr. Wily's robots have left. Rush shows them some tread marks on the ground. Mega Man and Roll see that the tread marks lead into the jungle. They follow the tread marks. They see that Dr. Wily's robots are making another clearing. They see that Cut Man and Metal Man are cutting down trees with total abandon. Roll turns to Mega Man and says "Mega Man, stop them!" Mega Man says to Roll "With pleasure!" and runs over to them. He fires at them. They use their weapons against him. Mega Man avoids the sharp weapons. Metal Man throws a Metal Blade at a large tree that is behind Mega Man. Mega Man sees a shadow being cast upon him and turns around to see a large tree falling towards him. Mega Man fires a hole into the tree. The tree falls on the blue robot. Metal Man thinks that Mega Man got crushed by the large tree. He is shocked to see Mega Man come out of the hole that he shot in the tree. Mega Man then fires at Metal Man. The buzzsaw on Metal Man's head is shot off. This angers Metal Man. He throws three Metal Blades at Mega Man. Mega Man jumps down off of the fallen large tree and fires a fully charged shot at Metal Man. Metal Man is instantly knocked out. Cut Man sees that Metal Man has been knocked out. He throws the cutters on his head at Mega Man. Mega Man jumps up to avoid the cutters. He grabs onto a hanging vine and swings towards Cut Man and kicks him down with both of his feet. Cut Man is knocked out and falls down. Mega Man jumps off of the vine and lands onto the ground. He then exclaims "Tarzan, eat your heart out!"

The good guys return to their wrecked Hoverjet. They see that the hoverjet is rather damaged. Dr. Light says "I don't think we can repair the Hoverjet here..." He tells his robots "After we take care of Dr. Wily, we will have to contact someone to transport us out of the rainforest and back home to the lab." Mega Man sees if he can repair some of the Hoverjet. He doesn't though, as he is afraid of wasting his energy on it. Dr. Light tells him "Stopping Dr. Wily and his robots is much more important than the Hoverjet!" Plant Man is hiding in the foliage, gathering intelligence from the good guys. He quietly goes over to Wood Man. He tells him "Mega Man and his friends are still alive...and in one piece!" Wood Man tells him "We need to tell Dr. Wily then!" They go over to where Dr. Wily has settled. Elsewhere in the cleared area, the rest of Dr. Wily's robots are building something rather large. Dr. Wily is surveying the area. Wood Man and Plant Man come out of the dense growth. They walk over to Dr. Wily. Wood Man asks Dr. Wily "What do you want of us?" Dr. Wily tells them "Ambush Mega Man if he tries to play tree hugger by stopping the cutting down of the forest!" They obey his command and head back into the jungle.

Meanwhile, the good guys have set up camp around the damaged Hoverjet. Roll is stitching some leaves together. Mega Man and Dr. Light are slaving over a laptop-like portable computer. Dr. Light tells Mega Man to go back into the hoverjet and adjust the satellite. Mega Man does so. On the computer, Dr. Light is seeing which areas of the rainforest have been cleared. He sees that there is a large square structure in one of the patches of cleared forest. Mega Man exits the hoverjet. He asks his creator "How's that?" Dr. Light responds "Much, much better!" Dr. Light suspects that the large area is a settlement that Dr. Wily has established. Mega Man says to Dr. Light "Maybe it's a new fortress." Dr. Light responds "It very well could be..." As Mega Man and Dr. Light are talking, Plant Man is observing them from high up in a tree. He sees that they are talking about the damage Dr. Wily has done to the rainforest. He uses his vines to slowly climb down from the tree. As Plant Man comes down from the tree, Wood Man asks him if he has seen what they are doing. Plant Man tells Wood Man "They have found where the Jungle Fortress is being built. We must relay the intelligence back to Dr. Wily!" Wood Man and Plant Man run back to Dr. Wily.

As they run through the plants, they cause them to rustle. The rustling attracts Mega Man and Dr. Light's attention. Dr. Light cries out "What was that?!" Mega Man readies his cannon and replies "I think we're being monitored!" Roll calls out "It's probably just a tapir! The rainforest has lots of animals in it!" Roll is finished with her leaf "dress" and hangs it up on a branch. Dr. Light says "Mega Man could be right!" He turns to Mega Man and says "Mega Man! Investigate whatever was there!" Mega Man cries out "Yes, sir!" and runs off into the jungle. Mega Man walks through the rainforest. As he walks through the rainforest, he hears a loud snap which alerts him. He looks around and sees that it was just him crush a twig that was on the forest floor. He takes his foot off of the twig and says to himself "Oh good, it was just a twig." Mega Man hears familiar voices coming out of the rustling bushes. He readies his plasma cannon in case it's trouble. Mega Man asks "Who's in thoses bushes!?" Whoever is in there doesn't come out. Mega Man yells at them "Come out or else I'm going to fire at you!" In the bushes, Wood Man tells Plant Man "We better come out and reveal ourselves to him!" Plant Man and Wood Man come out of the bushes with their hands up. Mega Man puts down is arm cannon as he sees that they have surrendered to him. But he still has his arm cannon ready, just in case.

He asks them "Why in the world did Dr. Wily bring you two along for the ride?" The plant robot masters look at each other. Wood Man tells Mega Man that "We're here to guide them through the rainforest!" Mega Man knows that they are centered around plants and decides to use that to his advantage. He asks them "Do you bots really know what your master is doing!?" Plant Man tells him "That's none of your business!" Mega Man responds "It is my business because you guys are helping Dr. Wily illegaly clear rainforests!" Plant Man asks Mega Man "Is what we are doing hurting the plants and wildlife?" Mega Man tells them "Yes! What you guys are assisting with is harming the plants and the local environment!" Wood Man asks him "How bad is the damage, Mega Man?" Mega Man has them follow him into the wrecked Hoverjet. "Come along, I'll show you!" he says to the robot masters. They go inside the hoverjet. Mega Man jumpstarts the hoverjet's control panel and some screens turn on. Mega Man brings up the carnage on the screen and shows them the extent of the damage. Wood Man and Plant Man are shocked at the disturbing sights. They turn to Mega Man. Wood Man asks Mega Man "What can we do to stop the destruction?" Mega Man tells them "That's exactly what we are trying to figure out, guys!"

Back at the new clearing, we see a large building made of natural materials. The evil robots have made a fortress for Dr. Wily out of wood and stone. We are then shown the inside of the fortress. Dr. Wily is in a medium-sized room at a wooden desk. He presses a button on the desk's control panel. He calls up his robots and has them come into the room. "Get in here now!" he commands. His evil robots are outside adding the final touches to the wooden fortress. They get the command on their arm cannons. Proto Man comments "Ooh! That does not sound good!" Guts Man drops the large logs that he was carrying. All three of them go into the jungle fortress. Guts Man enters the wooden fortress, nearly taking the doorframe off. Dr. Wily yells at Guts Man "Guts Man! Be careful with that door! It is brand new!" The robot masters enter the main room of the organic fortress. Dr. Wily asks them "Where is Wood Man and Plant Man!?" Guts Man shrugs. Proto Man tells Dr. Wily "We don't know where they went, Doc!" Dr. Wily sighs angrily. He presses a button on the control panel in front of him. Security cameras emerge from the corners of the jungle fortress. The security cameras barely detect anything, just the local wildlife. Dr. Wily pounds the control panel. Proto Man tells Dr. Wily "They'll show up...eventually..." Dr. Wily knows that Plant Man and Wood Man were not too fond of helping him raze the rainforest to the ground. He suspects that they may have crossed over to the other side. He tells his robots "Get out and surround the fortress!" His robots do so. Outside of the fortress, Dr. Wily's remaining robots are standing guard around the fortress. Cut Man asks Proto Man "Proto Man, what should we do if they really went over to Mega Man's side?" Proto Man is about to say something, but Guts Man cuts him off and says "I'll tell ya what we're goin' to do to 'em if they do go over to da good side, we're goin' to crush 'em! Real good!" He pounds his fists together as he exclaims this. Proto Man smiles evilly and says to Cut Man "What he said!"

Meanwhile, Wood Man and Plant Man are leading Mega Man and Rush to the wooden fortress. "It's this way!" Wood Man and Plant Man say in unison. Mega Man is surprised that Dr. Wily built a fortress in the area in so little time. "So that's what they've been doing with all those trees!" Mega Man exclaims. "Yes," Wood Man sadly says "Dr. Wily is using them to build a fortress right here in the rainforest!" Plant Man comments "It's terrible, isn't it?"

Guts Man and Cut Man spot them. They see that Wood Man and Plant Man are now with Mega Man. Cut Man yells out to them "You traitors! You're going to pay for rebelling against Dr. Wily!" Plant Man yells at them, much to Mega Man's shame, "At least we will fall defending plants!" Wood Man and Plant Man are preparing to use their weapons. Mega Man tells them "Don't! Stop!" Fortunately, they restrain themselves. Cut Man yells at them "I'm cutting your treachery short!" He throws the cutters on his head at them. Mega Man shoots at the cutter and destroys it. Cut Man cries out "My cutters!" Mega Man fires at Cut Man again. Cut Man gets behind a tree to dodge the attack. "Hiding, are we?" Mega Man yells out to Cut Man. Behind the tree, Cut Man uses the cutter that comes out of his arm cannon to cut the tree down. He karate kicks the tree down. Mega Man thinks that Cut Man is preparing his arm cannon. He yells out "Come out, come out, wherever you are!" He notices that the tree is falling down in his direction. Cut Man looks from behind the tree stump and laughs. Mega Man slides out of the way. "No!" Plant Man cries out. He extends his robotic vines to push back the tree. He yells out "You're killing the trees!" Wood Man uses his Leaf Shield to assist Plant Man with putting the tree back on its stump. Mega Man sees Cut Man and fires at him yet again. Guts Man and Proto Man join in on the conflict. Proto Man fires at the plant robot masters. Wood Man and Plant Man use their weapons to shield themselves against Proto Man's fire. Guts Man sneaks up behind them with a large and long log in his hands. He bashes Wood Man with it. Wood Man's energy is greatly depleted. Plant Man sees that Wood Man is down. Proto Man sees that Plant Man has literally let his guard down. He snickers evilly with a half grin on his face and says to Plant Man "Here's hoping that Wily doesn't chop your traitorous hide up in his scrap-chopping machine!" Proto Man then blasts Plant Man with a fully charged shot. Plant Man falls down onto the ground next to Wood Man. Mega Man sees out of the corner of his eye that his new allies have been downed. He quickly shoots cut man in the face and runs over to them. Guts Man picks both Wood Man and Plant Man up. Mega Man frogleaps over Proto Man and flying kicks Guts Man in the face. Wood Man and Plant Man falls out of Guts Man's grasp. Proto Man is angry that Mega Man used him as a way to attack Guts Man. Mega man calls up Eddie on his arm cannon and tells him that he needs some energy cans. He dares not say who they are actually for as Eddie would refuse to relinquish them to him should he discover the real recipients of the energy cans. Eddie is inside of the Hoverjet. Mega Man's call for help wakes him up. Eddie quickly realizes that Mega Man needs him. He jumps off of the panel and runs out of the Hoverjet. "I'm coming, Mega Man!" Eddie cries out. Eddie finally makes it to where Mega Man is. He sees that Mega Man has already knocked out Guts Man and Proto Man. Mega Man wipes the dirt off of his hand in triumph. Eddie asks Mega Man "The usual?" "You bet!" Mega Man replies. Eddie shoots out two energy cans for Mega Man. Mega Man then tells Eddie "You can go now." Eddie says "Okay!" and runs back to the Hoverjet. Mega Man gives Wood Man and Plant Man each an energy can. The plant robot masters drink the energy cans. Their energy is restored. They thank Mega Man for the energy cans.

Unbeknownst to them, Guts Man manages to get back up. He yells out to the three robots "I'm gonna squash you metal weeds!" Guts Man gets into the bulldozer. He tries to run into them. Mega Man tries to stop the bulldozer. Guts Man yells out "Hey! Yer gonna have ta pay fer damages!" Mega Man shouts back "So should you!" Mega Man manages to push the bulldozer back. Mega Man shouts back "So should you!" Mega Man manages to push the bulldozer back. Guts Man increases the speed of the bulldozer. Mega Man cannot hold the bulldozer back any longer. He jumps out of the way. The bulldozer heads towards Wood Man. Plant Man sees that Wood Man is in danger. He extends his vines into the driver's control panel. He shuts off the bulldozer with his vines. Guts Man tries to rip the vines off of the levers. Plant Man's vines hurl Guts Man off of the bulldozer. The bulldozer finally stops before it hits Wood Man. Guts Man is now very furious. He pounds viciously on the control panel, smashing it to pieces. He jumps out of the bulldozer and lands very hard on the ground. The ground shakes from the impact. Mega Man and the plant robots masters fall down. Guts Man picks up the bulldozer and raises it above his head. "Any last words!?" Guts Man bellows. Wood Man replies "Yeah, let's leaf it!" Wood Man fires some leaves into Guts Man's face. Plant Man pushes Guts Man with his vines. The bulldozer falls onto Guts Man's feet. Guts Man yells out in pain. Mega Man yells out "Run!" Mega Man and the plant robot masters run away. They all run back to the Hoverjet.

As they return to the hoverjet, Dr. Light, Roll, and Rush return to the hoverjet as well. They are shocked to see Mega Man side by side with Plant Man and Wood Man. Rush runs up to Wood Man and attempts to bite his legs, like he usually does with Guts Man. Wood Man uses his larger, metallic Leaf Shield to keep Rush away. "Stay! Stay!" Wood Man says to Rush. Dr. Light asks Mega Man "What is the meaning of this!?" Mega Man tells his allies "Relax, they're just here to protect the plants." Dr. Light asks Mega Man "Are you sure about that?" Wood Man replies "Very sure, Dr. Light!" Plant Man tells Dr. Light that Mega Man showed them what Dr. Wily was really doing to the rainforest and that it made them feel bad. Dr. Light is still unsure of them. Mega Man tells Dr. Light that they've scouted the area and have confirmed that Dr. Wily has built a fortress where he cleared the forest. Wood Man puts his head down and says that Dr. Wily has established an operation to cut down jungle trees and to sell the tropical wood to criminal organizations in order to obtain lots of money. Mega Man says "But we're all going to stop his criminal lumber business!" Plant Man gets an idea. He suggests that he and Wood Man pretend to return to the bad side so that they can infiltrate the jungle fortress and once they are inside they will tear it apart from within. Mega Man says to Plant Man "That's a great idea, Plant Man!" Dr. Light then says "Go right ahead!" Plant Man and Wood Man head back to the jungle fortress.

On their way there, Plant Man calls up Dr. Wily on his arm cannon. Plant Man tells Dr. Wily that the reason why they acted the way they did was because Mega Man captured them and had Dr. Light reprogram them. "That explains it." Dr. Wily says. Plant Man tells Dr. Wily that they are returning to the wooden fortress. Plant Man then hangs up the call. Dr. Wily tells his robots that it is clearly a ruse. He tells Cut Man and Metal Man to get the giant tree-felling vehicle ready. Dr. Wily then says "They must be taught a lesson that they will never forget!" Meanwhile, Plant Man and Wood Man reach the jungle fortress. Proto Man walks up to the plant robot masters. Plant Man tells Proto Man "So you guys got the message, huh?" Proto Man smirks and says "Yeah! The message that you guys are really going to get it now!" Proto Man fires a plasma shot at Wood Man. Wood Man gets knocked out. Plant Man turns around to see Proto man firing a shot at him. He too is knocked out. Proto Man tells Guts Man "Tie these treehuggers to those two trees over there!" Cut Man tells Guts Man "If they want to be like plants, then they will go down like plants! Ahe ahe ahe ahe!"

Wood Man and Plant Man are bound to the trees with chains. Proto Man tells Guts Man "Make sure they're tied up to their precious trees nice and tight!" Guts Man and Proto Man then get out of the way. A large tree felling vehicle is coming towards them. Cut Man and Metal Man are operating the large vehicle. Cut Man yells out to the plant robot masters "So much for saving the rainforest! Ahe ahe ahe!"

Back at the hoverjet, Mega Man sees yellow vehicles going through. He sees that they are headed to where the jungle fortress is. He jumps onto one of the vehicles. Rush sees the vehicles and chases after them. Mega Man looks down from the vehicle when he sees Rush chasing after the vehicle. He tells Rush "You can come along as well." The vehicle heads towards the jungle fortress. But to Mega Man's surprise, it goes to a ledge above the wooden evil fortress. But fortunately, it gives Mega Man a good view of the whole claimed area. Back at the clearing, the large tree felling machine inches closer and closer to Wood Man and Plant Man. They hope that Mega Man will save them in time. Plant Man looks at Wood Man and says to him "Well, at least we tried..."

Meanwhile, Mega Man is pursuing the yellow vehicle. He fires at its tires and stops it. He jumps up onto the roof of the vehicle. As he is on the vehicle's roof, he hears the large tree felling vehicle. Mega Man jumps up onto the branch of a tree above the vehicle to get a better look around the area. Mega Man sees Wood Man and Plant Man. He wonders "Why are they tied up to those trees?" Mega Man sees that they are about to get cut up. "Sizzling circuits!" Mega Man exclaims "They're gonna be titanium timber!" He jumps down from the tree and runs over to them. Cut Man and Metal Man see that Mega Man is going to save the traitorous plant robot masters. He tries to make the vehicle go faster. Metal Man warns Cut Man not to get too excited. "We need this vehicle to cut down the timber that Wily's gonna sell to the big wigs!" Metal Man tells Cut Man. Mega Man goes over to Wood Man and Plant Man. Wood Man says to Mega Man "Thank our lucky circuits!" Mega Man tells Wood Man and Plant Man "I'll get you two unbound lickety split!" He tries to pull the chains off of them. "Looks like metal elbow grease isn't going to cut it!" Mega Man exclaims. Mega Man shoots the chains off of them. They both thank him and quickly get out of the way of the tree felling vehicle. The giant vehicle cuts through the trees. The chains end up getting caught in the machine. The machine gets damaged as a result. The machine shuts down. Cut Man tries to power the machine back on, but to no avail. Cut Man angrily pounds on the control panel. Metal Man tells Cut Man "The machine is no longer working, so let's get out and destroy them ourselves!" They both exit the tree felling vehicle. They see that Mega Man and the plant robot masters have left. They decide to run back to Dr. Wily and tell him.

Elsewhere around the clearing, Mega Man and the plant robot masters are hiding in the foliage. "How do we bring down the fortress now, Mega Man?" Wood Man asks the Blue Bomber. "Live bait!" Mega Man answers. "Live bait!?" Wood Man replies. Mega Man says to Wood Man "Yes, I'll try to get into the fortress myself, and while Wily and his robots are distracted thanks to me, you two infiltrate the wooden fortress!" Plant Man says "Sounds like an effective plan!" Mega Man tells them "I'll go ahead of you two!" Mega Man and the plant robot masters make their way out of the foliage. This time, they go behind the jungle fortress. Mega Man slowly walks towards the fortress. He feels something move beneath his blue feet. The ground crumbles under Mega Man's feet. The ground was covering a spike pit trap. Mega Man almost falls onto the spikes, but Plant Man uses one of his vines to save him. The vine wraps around Mega Man's lower arm. Plant Man pulls him up with all of his might. Wood Man asks "Need some help there?" Plant Man tells Wood Man "Thanks, but no thanks. I can get him out myself!" He manages to get him our of the trap. Mega Man thanks him as he wipes the dirt off of his own body. Mega Man tells them "Now let's continue." Mega Man runs right up to the back of the wooden fortress.

Guts Man, Cut Man, and Proto Man approach Wood Man and Plant Man from behind. Guts Man grabs Plant Man and tries to crush him in a bear hug. "Let's hug and make up! Ha ha ha ha!" Guts Man says to Plant Man as Plant Man struggles to get free. Wood Man sees that Plant Man is in distress. He is surprised that they attacked them instead of Mega Man. He asks the evil robots "Aren't you guys supposed to be defending the fortress from Mega Man?" Cut Man tells Wood Man "No! Wily told us we're supposed to protect the fortress from you silicon hippies!" Proto Man shoots at Wood Man. Cut Man puts Wood Man in a headlock and holds some cutters to his neck. Cut Man tells Wood Man "You two are going to lead us to Mega Man!" Wood Man remembers the plan and decides to play along. He says to Cut Man "Wait! Now I remember where that blue activist is!" He looks up at Cut Man and tells him "He's breaking into the fortress right now as we speak, but obviously you bots are too busy trying to destroy us for treason!" Proto Man smiles evilly and tells Cut Man "Put him down." Cut Man does so, letting Wood Man drop onto the forest floor. Proto Man looks at Guts Man and nods at him. Guts Man throws Plant Man onto the ground. Proto Man crosses his arms and walks up to the nature robot masters. "Now then," Proto Man says to Wood Man and Plant Man "Where is Mega Man?" Plant Man points over to the wooden fortress and cries out "He's over there! I think he's already broken into the fortress! You must stop him!" Proto Man says to both Plant Man and Wood Man "Looks like you two redeemed yourselves! But don't pull another one like that again! Got it?" Wood Man says to Proto Man "Got it!" Plant Man says "Yes, yes, we've learned our lesson!" Proto Man, Guts Man, and Cut Man run to the entrance of the fortress to stop Mega Man. They wait until the evil robots are out of earshot, then Plant Man says to Wood Man "Now let's infiltrate the fortress!" Wood Man and Plant Man run over to the back of the wooden fortress. Plant Man uses his vines to scale the wooden walls. He turns over to Wood Man and tells him "Now get on my back!" Wood Man jumps onto Plant Man's back and hangs on. Plant Man and Wood Man make it to the top of the jungle fortress. Wood Man gets off of Plant Man. They both see that there are security cameras on the fortress' roof. They use their weapons to destroy them. But unfortunately form them, the security cameras had still captured their presence.

Inside the fortress, Dr. Wily sees that Plant Man and Wood Man have gotten onto the roof of the fortress. He presses a button on the control panel in front of him. On the screen, it switches to showing Proto Man, Guts Man, and Cut Man fighting Mega Man. Dr. Wily is angry that they are not paying attention to the plant robot masters infiltrating the jungle fortress, but then he realizes that Mega Man distracting the evil robots was part of their plan all along. He instead decides to let his robots fight Mega Man. He wants to make Mega Man's fight harder, so he presses another button on the control panel.

Back outside of the wooden fortress, Mega Man is still fending off Guts Man, Cut Man, and Proto Man. He hears something coming out of the fortress. A troop of Monkings jumps off of the top of the jungle fortress. Some of them attack Mega Man, but the other ones attack the evil robots as well. Mega Man fires at the attacking Monkings. Some of the Monkings dodge the shots, though. The evil robots see that Mega Man is being overrun by the Monkings. Proto Man tells Guts Man and Cut Man "Now let's finish him off!" Proto Man and Cut Man fire at Mega Man. Mega Man moves around to get the Monkings to end up getting shot instead. Guts Man grabs two Monkings and throws them at Mega Man. The Monkings end up hitting the other Monkings. This angers the Monkings. They end up attacking each other. Mega Man escapes from them and heads towards the wooden fortress' entrance. Proto Man sighs and says out loud "So much for the Monking ambush..." Mega Man sees that the doors are made of hard wood. He kicks them down with a rather strong kick. The doors smash into pieces. "Ding dong!" Mega Man shouts out. On the security cameras, Dr. Wily sees that Mega Man is now in the wooden fortress. Dr. Wily calls up his robot masters. He shouts out "Mega Man's breached the fortress! Get him out!" As he makes his way to the center, Mega Man destroys the security cameras. Through the wall of monitors, Dr. Wily is shocked that Mega Man is destroying the security cameras one by one. His robots still have not gone back into the fortress. He calls them up again. "Where are you!?" he cries out. Back outside the fortress, Proto Man and the other bad robots are still fending off the Monkings. The buttons on Proto Man's arm cannon are glowing. Through his cannon, Dr. Wily cries out "Get in here now! I command you!" Proto Man presses one of the buttons on his arm cannon and says "Alright! Alright! We'll get there as fast as we can!" Dr. Wily responds "Mega Man is nearing my room! He's getting closer and closer!" Proto Man groans and runs towards the fortress' entrance. Cut Man and Guts Man soon follow Proto Man after destroying the last of the Monkings.

Back inside the wooden fortress, Mega Man comes across the entrance to Dr. Wily's "office". His office is behind a wide wooden door with a large letter W on it. He blasts the doors open. Mega Man approaches Dr. Wily at his desk and says to him "You're outta here, Wily!" Dr. Wily is about to press another button. Mega Man aims his cannon at the mad robot scientists and yells out "Don't even think about it!"

Just then, Mega Man hears a sawing noise from the ceiling. He sees that a circle is being cut into it. He has an idea who it might be. He backs away. Metal Man jumps down from the ceiling and slashes at Mega Man with his Metal Blades. One of the blades cuts into Mega Man's upper arm. It leaves a gash in his arm. Mega Man fires at Metal Man, hitting him in the chest. Metal Man is knocked back and hits the desk. Dr. Wily gets off of the chair and steps away from the desk. Metal Man gets up and throws a Metal Blade at Mega Man. Mega Man dodges the blade. Proto Man, Guts Man, and Cut Man finally make it to the office. The Metal Blade almost hits Proto Man. Proto Man yells out "Hey! Watch it, Metal Head!" The evil robots then surround Mega Man. They aim their cannons at the blue bomber. Mega Man is afraid that he won't be able to make it out of this situation.

Suddenly, some leaves blow in from the hole in the ceiling. The leaves blow around the office. They get in everyone's faces except for Mega Man. Some familiar vines come down from the hole and wrap around Mega Man's waist. They pull him up into the hole in the ceiling. Dr. Wily and his robots are too distracted by the blowing leaves to see that Mega Man is escaping. Mega Man sees that Plant Man and Wood Man have come to his rescue. Plant Man shushes him so that he his quiet. Mega Man nods. They crawl away to another place in the wooden fortress. The leaves eventually fall down onto the floor. The bad guys look around the room and see that Mega Man has escaped. "Those tree-hugging plant bots probably helped him!" Proto Man cries out. Dr. Wily looks up at the hole in the ceiling and yells to his robots "Get up there and weed them out!" Proto Man jumps onto the desk and up into the hole. Guts Man grabs Cut Man and helps him climb up into the hole. Metal Man is the last one to get up into the hole. Guts Man cannot get into the hole, unfortunately, because of his size. The plant robot masters show Mega Man where the power generator is. "Down here!" Plant Man says to Mega Man. Mega Man looks down and sees the generator. "This is great!" he says happily. He jumps down into the generator room. Wood Man tells Plant Man "We better stay here in case he needs us." Down in the generator room, Mega Man charges up his plasma cannon. He fires a fully charged plasma shot at the generator. The generator is blown apart. Up in the ceiling, Wood Man and Plant Man hear Proto Man and the evil robots coming towards them. Proto Man sees them and yells out "There you are!" Wood Man and Plant Man quickly go down onto the generator room. Mega Man is surprised to see that Wood Man and Plant Man have decided to go down into the room to join him. "Proto Man and the others are on the way here!" Wood Man tells Mega Man. Mega Man tells the plant robot masters "Don't wory, Wood Man, we're on our way out!" All three of them see that the power generator is about to explode. Mega Man shouts out to them "Come on! Let's blow this toothpick stand!" Mega Man blasts a hole in one of the wooden walls, and they all run out of the fortress. Proto Man, Cut Man, and Metal Man jump down into the generator room. Unfortunately for them, they are too late. The power generator is about to explode. Proto Man sees the hole Mega Man has made in the wall. He yells out to Metal Man and Cut Man "Get out of here! She's gonna blow!" All three of them quickly run out of the wooden fortress. Back at the office, all of the alarms go off. Dr. Wily quickly pulls a lever on the control panel. The Wily Capsule comes up out of the floor. Dr. Wily gets in and flies out of the fortress. Guts Man smashes his way out of the organic fortress. Before Guts Man can smash through the last wooden wall, the whole fortress explodes.

The explosion launches Guts Man into a thick tree. The tree is broken in half by Guts Man's impact. The other evil robots have made it out of the wooden fortress. Dr. Wily looms over the whole scene in his Wily Capsule. He sees that the wooden fortress has been blown to smithereens. "My operation! My new fortress! My business! Ruined!" Dr. Wily yells out in anguish. He sees that Mega Man and the two plant robot masters are quietly sneaking away from the destruction. Dr. Wily calls up his robots and tells them "Punish them for their crimes! Give them a capital punishment!"

Meanwhile, Mega Man and the nature robot masters are sneaking their way to the hoverjet. Mega Man tells Wood Man and Plant Man "We're almost there, guys, just keep quiet and follow me..." Mega Man sees the hoverjet past some foliage. He lifts his hand up to clear the vegetation. Suddenly, a Metal Blade zips past in between two of his fingers and gets embedded into a tree. Mega Man is shocked by this and turns around to the evil robots firing their weapons at him and the nature robot masters. Mega Man doesn't want them to target the hoverjet, so he goes to the right and into an area with a bunch of trees. Wood Man and Plant Man follow the blue bomber. They are in the middle of the trees. "What now?" Wood Man asks Mega Man. Mega Man sees Guts Man pushing down some of the trees to reach Mega Man and his plant-based allies. Mega Man yells out "Fight back!" Guts Man pulls a tree out of the ground, roots and all, and tries to hit Wood Man with it. Wood Man manages to jump over the tree. Meanwhile, Metal Man is slashing wildly at Plant Man. Plant Man wraps one of his vines around Metal Man's arm. Plant Man tries to pull his arm off. Cut Man sees that Metal Man is in need of some help. He throws the cutters on his head at the metal vine. The cutters slash through the vine and free Metal Man's arm. Cut Man then fires at Plant Man. Plant Man narrowly avoids the cutters.

Back at the hoverjet, Dr. Light, Roll, and Rush hear the commotion. Dr. Light has Roll and Rush run over to the source of the fight to assist Mega Man. Roll and Rush quickly run to where the current battle is. Roll sees some rocks and uses her vacuum attachment to suck them up. She then fires them at Metal Man. One of the decent-sized rocks hits one of Metal Man's "earlobes" and bends it. Metal Man throws a Metal Blade at her, but Roll quickly switches to her frying pan attachment and hits it back at Metal Man. Metal Man dodges his own Metal Blade, which cuts through some vines above the bad robots. The severed vines fall down onto the evil robots. Roll cries out "That's a home run for me!"

Mega Man, the plant robot masters, and Mega Man's allies surround Dr. Wily's robots. They are at a standoff now. Guts Man yells out "Attack!" The evil robots attack their respective targets. Plant Man goes after Cut Man as revenge for cutting off one of his robotic vines. Cut Man taunts Plant Man by saying to him "Want me to lop off the rest of your vines?" Plant Man replies "Not this time, Bunny Man!" Cut Man is angry that Plant Man had called him that. He slashes wildly at Plant Man. Plant Man uses his Plant Barrier weapon to deflect his slashes. He then uses his remaining vines to grab Cut Man. He then pulls him apart. Meanwhile, Mega Man is fighting Metal Man. Metal Man slashes at Mega Man with his Metal Blades. Mega Man kicks him in the face. He then shoots at him. Metal Man gets quickly knocked out. Mega Man copies his Metal Blade weapon. Wood Man yells out "Mega Man! Help!" Mega Man sees that Guts Man is holding Wood Man up in his arms and is proceeding to rip him in half. Mega Man throws some Metal Blades at Guts Man's arms. The Metal Blades cut off Guts Man's arms. Guts Man tries to kick at Mega Man. Plant Man trips Guts Man with one of his vines.

Proto Man yells out to Mega Man "Alright, Captain Planet, it's just you and me now!" Mega Man replies "You bet, Proto maniac!" Proto Man fires at him, but Mega Man strafes behind a tree to avoid the shot. Mega Man fires back at him, but Proto Man goes behind a tree of his own. Mega Man waits for him to try to fire at him again and shoots at him. Proto Man runs over to another tree, yet again dodging his shots. Mega Man gets frustrated. Proto Man is about to fire at him, but Mega Man fires a shot into his plasma cannon. This causes Proto Man's cannon to overheat and explode. Proto Man falls down onto the ground. Mega Man walks up to him and says "How's that for a surprise?" Wood Man and Plant Man are happy that they all have saved the rainforest. Mega Man gives them a thumbs up and says "I couldn't have done it without you guys!" The plant robot masters give him a thumbs up in return.

Dr. Wily sees that Mega Man is congratulating the plant robot masters for helping him save the rainforest. He feels that they must be punished for their transgressions. He runs over to them and aims his purple reprogrammer at Wood Man and Plant Man. Mega Man thinks that Dr. Wily is aiming it at him and quickly jumps up into a tree to avoid the device. Dr. Wily yells at Wood Man and Plant Man "You'll forget this!" He fires the device at them, shutting them down. He says to them "I told you two would forget this! Mwa ha ha ha!" Dr. Wily sees that Mega Man is up in a tree. He says to him "Since the three of you make such a great team, why don't you join them back at Skull Fortress!" Mega Man yells out "Never!" He shoots the device out of Dr. Wily's hand. The device lands onto the ground and gets broken in the process. Dr. Wily sees that he has been vanquished yet again. He gets into his apache helicopter. The Skull Apache Helicopter tries to ram in Mega Man and his allies as it picks up the robot masters' scattered parts. The Skull Apache helicopter almost crashes into Roll, but Mega Man pushes her out of the way, and then fires at the Apache helicopter in retaliation. The Skull Apache Helicopter flies out of the rainforest and away into the endless sky.

Mega Man hopes that Dr. Wily will not destroy Wood Man and Plant Man. Dr. Light believes that the evil robot doctor will simply reprogram them and make them forget that this whole incident ever happened. Dr. Light then tells his robots that they need to help repair the damage that Dr. Wily had inflicted. He leads them to a truck that is filled with trees to plant. Mega Man and Roll grab some tree saplings and head to the nearby clearing. Rush goes ahead of them to dig holes for them to plant the trees in. When they arrive at the clearing, Rush runs up to them and points with his snout to where the holes are. Mega Man and Roll look up and are shocked to see thousands of holes have been dug into the ground. Mega Man looks at Roll and says "Looks like we'll be busy all week!" The episode ends with them proceeding to begin planting trees.

[chibistarlyte]

So Blooms the Soul (As Flowers on the Skin)

“Uh…Haru?” Rin said hesitantly from behind him.

“Hm?” Haruka hummed, turning around to regard his best friend, who was looking at him with an incredulous look on his face.

“Your soul mark…” Rin said, slowly raising his hand and pointing at the blade of Haruka’s right shoulder. “Did you know it’s bloomed?”

Blue eyes widened and the shock of the question was almost enough to knock Haruka into the pool.

“Wh-what?”

AHHHH HERE IT ISSSS my fic for the @nanaseharukabirthdayexchange !!! I was able to write this fic for @lonesome-writer !!!

Milo, thank you so much for including so many fun prompts in your likes list. It was an absolute joy writing this for you and I really hope you like it! ;u;

The fic in its entirety is below the cut, but you can also read it here on AO3!

It was a quiet morning in Tokyo, still early enough to where not a single soul traversed down the street where the Swim Free Flower Shop resided. The sun slowly crept into the clear glass windows of the storefront, greeting the plants inside with its friendly, caring light. The plants, in turn, welcomed the sun in like an old friend, turning to face the windows and soaking up the rays.

 Nanase Haruka loved mornings like this, when he could ready his shop for the day and bask in the peace before the city properly awoke. He breathed in the sweet, fragrant air of the shop as he watered the plants with his mackerel-shaped watering can—a joke gift he’d gotten from Nagisa that Haruka had, unfortunately, grown too fond of to get rid of.

 His effervescent employee sure wormed his way into his heart, Haruka thought with a smile. He poured the last drops of water out of the mackerel’s mouth before setting it aside and going to set up his hose with the spray nozzle to water the larger plants he had on the sales floor.

 It was still early in the summer, and as such, a lot of his perennials were beginning to bloom. The wide array of flowers he had on hand added such a rainbow of colors to his shop, brightening everything up with no effort whatsoever. But he still had some plants that hadn’t bloomed yet, that were still trying to grow their buds,like his imported phlox flowers from the United States.

 Blue eyes stared at the buds, still mostly green but with small bursts of purple and violet poking through at the top. According to his research, they wouldn’t bloom for at least another month, but that was okay. He’d take the time to nurture them and help them grow; he had no doubt they’d be a huge hit when they did bloom, especially considering their natural habitat was overseas.

 But, to be honest, the reason he’d sought them out in the first place was because they were the exact same flower as the soul mark he sported on his back.

 More specifically, his soul mark was on the blade of his right shoulder. He’d only ever seen it in the mirror or in the occasional photo, and there was no color to it whatsoever—just the solid black outlines of a flower that begged to be colored in—so it took him a long time to figure out what kind of flower bud it was.

 And the fact that it was still a bud, not a fully bloomed flower, meant that he still hadn’t met his soulmate. Which was fine by him, really. He wasn’t really concerned with finding that one person destined to be his other half; he had people in his life that he loved and trusted, and he had his shop. He didn’t really need more than that.

 A firm knock on the front door yanked Haruka out of his peaceful musings, immediately filling him with confusion. It was too early for Nagisa to show up for his shift, and several hours until the shop would be open for business. So who…?

 Haruka turned around to see a small delivery truck outside, with a tall man in a recognizable uniform waving to him with a smile from outside.

 Ah, it made sense now. Though he usually didn’t get his deliveries this early…

 Haruka turned off the hose and set it atop the water tank, drying his hands on his apron as he approached the door and turned his master key in the lock.

 “Good morning!” the delivery man greeted as Haruka opened the door, his smile warm and bright.

 Haruka was almost blinded by the genuinely kind and friendly aura he exuded. The florist felt tingles all the way from the top of his head to the tips of his toes, though he had no idea why. He just kept staring at the—much taller—man before him, going slightly lightheaded and losing himself in crystal clear peridot eyes.

 The man’s smile grew a bit uneasy at Haruka’s blatant staring and lack of response, and he tilted his head a bit. Olive brown fringe fell to cover his eyes somewhat, which Haruka found to be an absolute travesty. “Um…is there something wrong?”

 Haruka felt like his face was on fire…or, more like he felt extremely flushed. Swallowing, he choked out the only thing he could think to say: “You’re not Sousuke.”

 The man looked adorably confused for about two seconds before his smile returned in full, accompanied by a laugh that may as well have been music to Haruka’s ears. “Ah, Yamazaki-kun is driving the truck. I’m Tachibana Makoto. I’m new, you see, so he’s driving the route today and I’m taking care of the customer contact.”

 “Oh,” Haruka said intelligently. “That…makes sense.”

 Tachibana’s smile didn’t dissipate in the slightest as he held up his metal clipboard that contained a bunch of invoices in its grasp. “It says here I only have four boxes for you today…where would you like me to put them?”

 Haruka held the door open wider, kicking the rubber door stopper with his foot until it wedged between the bottom of the door and the floor. “You can just set them here,” he said, motioning to an open spot between the front window and his bouquet coolers, “and I’ll break them down as I go.”

 “Sure thing!” the newbie said, nodding his head before disappearing to his truck. Haruka heard the metallic clangs of the trailer lock, the thump of the ramp coming in contact with the asphalt. All the while he just stood in his shop like a stick in the dirt, trying to regain feeling in his limbs that still felt slightly numb and buzzing with some weird energy. He idly rubbed at his right shoulder, feeling it burn slightly under his touch.

 Tachibana came in with two boxes piled on top of each other, balanced by a dolly. He was humming quietly as he worked, carefully sliding the boxes off the dolly before heading back to the truck for the remainder of the delivery.

 Haruka fished a box cutter out of his apron, slicing the tape on the first box in one swift motion. It contained some different soils he’d ordered, and he set to unpacking the bags and carted them over to the large storage cupboard at the back of the store. When he returned to cut into the second box, Tachibana had also returned with a carton of live plants—orchids, the shipping label on the side read. The fact that he was carrying such a heavy parcel with relative ease made Haruka unconsciously sneak a glance at the man’s arms. The sleeves of his collared uniform shirt were rolled up to the elbows, and besides the rock hard muscles in his forearms, Haruka also caught a glimpse of a flower bud peeking out from under Tachibana’s left sleeve. But it was quickly hidden again by the fabric, much too quickly for Haruka to discern what kind of flower bud it was.

 So, Tachibana hadn’t met his soulmate yet either.

 “Here, I’ll take that,” Haruka said, reaching his arms out for the box of orchids.

 “Oh, no, I’ve got it!” Tachibana insisted with that ever-present smile. “Would you like me to set it elsewhere?”

 Haruka gave up the fight much quicker than he expected of himself, and pointed to the counter lining the back of the store where he typically put together arrangements. “Over there is fine.”

 Tachibana did as he was told, still humming a soft little tune as he made his way to the back of the store.

 As much as Haruka wanted to watch the delivery man, feeling some kind of strange magnetic pull to him that he had a hard time fighting down, he instead wrenched his attention away and headed to the delivery truck outside. He saw his usual delivery guy, Sousuke, sitting in the driver’s seat tapping away on his phone. Sighing, Haruka impatiently rapped on the window with his knuckle to get Sousuke’s attention.

 The dark-haired man rolled down the window and gave Haruka a friendly smirk. “Morning, Haru. What’s up?”

 “Training the new guy by making him do all the work?” Haruka questioned, raising a brow.

 Sousuke snickered and leaned back against the seat. “Relax, he’s doing fine on his own,” he assured his long-time customer and friend. “Besides, my shoulder’s been acting up today. Figured it’d be better if he did the heavy lifting, y’know?”

 Haruka nodded in understanding, fixing Sousuke with a slightly more serious look. He knew Sousuke’s old swimming injury flared up on occasion, and those days were usually when Haruka would grab his own delivery boxes from the back of the truck. But now that Sousuke had someone helping him on his route, Haruka hoped that the man would give his shoulder a break.

 “Um…Nanase-san, could you please sign this invoice?” Tachibana said from behind, and Haruka spun around to find him smiling sheepishly at him.

 “That was fast,” Haruka remarked as he grabbed for the clipboard and pen being offered to him, causing Tachibana’s handsome face to flush an attractive pink.

 “Thanks?”

 A small, unbidden smile made its way onto Haruka’s face as he scratched out a signature of sorts using only the kanji of his surname. He clicked the pen closed and set it atop the clipboard, handing it back to the still blushing Tachibana. “You can call me Haru, by the way.”

 Tachibana blinked a couple times before seeming to realize he needed to take the clipboard back. “R-really? But we’ve only just met…”

 Haruka shrugged. “If you’re going to be a regular on this route, we’re gonna get to know each other eventually. I’d rather just skip the formalities.”

 If possible, Tachibana lit up with an even brighter smile than before. “Okay. Then you can call me Makoto.”

 “Alright, you two, enough chit-chat. We have to get to our next stop,” Sousuke scolded from inside the truck, turning the key in the ignition until the vehicle whirred to life. “Rin says hi, by the way,” Sousuke said to Haruka, waving his phone which presumably had a text message conversation open with Rin—Sousuke’s boyfriend and Haruka’s best friend.

 “Ah, sorry!” Makoto apologized, hurriedly tearing off Haruka’s copy of the invoice and handing it to him. “It was very nice to meet you, Haru. See you next time?”

 Haruka nodded and hummed in the affirmative. “Yeah, see you again, Makoto.”

 Makoto gave him a little wave as he dashed around the back of the truck, hurriedly locking up the trailer before hopping in the cab next to Sousuke. With a lazy salute from Sousuke and another brilliant smile from Makoto, the two drove off towards their next destination and left Haruka standing in front of his shop. His body still tingled.

.

 Haruka was quietly changing out of his clothes into his swimsuit when Rin decided to show up, claiming the locker next to him.

 “Impatient as always, I see,” the redhead commented teasingly, shrugging off his bag and jacket.

 Haruka, on the other hand, had just pulled on his knee-length jammers and was now digging around his bag for his swim cap and goggles. He merely gave a hum in response, hearing what Rin said but not entirely processing the words, his mind elsewhere.

 “Sousuke told me you met the new guy on his route,” Rin said, his voice muffled as he pulled his t-shirt over his head.

 “Yeah,” Haruka affirmed distantly, folding up his work clothes and setting them neatly in his locker. He gently shut the door and stood idly by, waiting for Rin to change into his legskins. He didn’t offer up any more information, though just thinking about Makoto made butterflies flutter in Haruka’s stomach. He felt goosebumps all over his exposed skin, though it wasn’t cold in the locker room.

 Rin threw his own clothes into his locker and grabbed his swim cap and goggles, wearing his goggles around his neck like a necklace. He flashed a sharp-toothed smile at Haruka and stood with his hand on his hip. Haruka could just barely make out Rin’s soul mark, peeking out of his legskins at his hip—the tips of a fully colored blue delphinium stalk.

 Haruka remembered seeing Rin’s soul mark for the first time, before he’d really found his affinity for caring for flowers. It was something his late grandmother had instilled in him from a young age, but it took a while for Haruka to truly appreciate what she had taught him. He eventually followed that path, and now had a successful flower shop of his own.

 Part of that awakening of sorts had been thanks to Rin showing him his beautiful soul mark.

 Rin nodded his head to the door leading to the pool hall. “Looks like you’ve got some feelings to swim out,” he said to his best friend and they walked side-by-side out of the locker room.

 Haruka kept his gaze resolutely straight ahead. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he deflected, pursing his lips somewhat.

 Rin barked out a laugh. “Haru…we’ve known each other since elementary school. I know you’re not as emotionally constipated as you used to be, but shit, you look like you’ve been in a daze since you got here.”

 Haruka couldn’t contest that. However, he did narrow his eyes and give Rin a sidelong glance to his left. “Emotionally constipated?”

 Though Rin rolled his eyes, he was still smiling. “You know what I mean.”

 Haruka just hummed again, staring forward once more. He was usually pretty aware of his own emotions, able to accurately piece together what he was feeling about most anything after a little time to mull it over. Whatever weirdness he was feeling—whatever weirdness he had been feeling since early that morning—he was sure the water would help him think it through.

 Luckily, there were only a few other people in the pool hall at this time of the evening. Haruka allowed a small smile to grace his features. At least he and Rin would be mostly undisturbed in their swimming.

 “You wanna race, or are you just gonna do laps?” Rin asked as they approached the edge of the pool, already doing some stretches to prepare for their exercise. Haruka followed suit, focusing on working out his arm muscles since his signature stroke was the front crawl.

 “I think some laps,” Haruka said, shaking out his shoulders and stepping up onto the starting block.

 “Uh…Haru?” Rin said hesitantly from behind him.

 “Hm?” Haruka hummed, turning around to regard his best friend, who was looking at him with an incredulous look on his face.

 “Your soul mark…” Rin said, slowly raising his hand and pointing at the blade of Haruka’s right shoulder. “Did you know it’s bloomed?”

 Blue eyes widened and the shock of the question was almost enough to knock Haruka into the pool.

 “Wh—what?”  

.

 Haruka stood in front of the sink, back turned, head angled to try and get a glimpse of his soul mark. He felt those familiar tingles, the numbness from earlier spreading from his chest to every bit of his body. His limbs felt light and weightless like floating in water but heavier than a ship’s anchor at the same time. He could barely feel his fingertips poking and prodding at his shoulder as he twisted every which way to see it clearly in the mirror.

 “Hey, Haru, here…” Rin said, stepping into the bathroom with his phone in hand—he’d gone to retrieve it from his locker before chasing directly after Haruka. “Lemme take a picture so you can see it better.”

 Sucking in a deep breath, Haruka complied and turned his back to Rin. He vaguely registered the shutter snap as Rin captured the photo on his phone. The slightly taller man then handed his phone to Haruka, who took it in shaking hands and stared at his soul mark on the screen.

 It was a fully bloomed phlox, but not even just one flower, which surprised Haruka enough to make his breath hitch. While the bud had only been singular, now emblazoned on his pale skin was a cluster of eight—maybe ten?—blossoms with five petals each, all rounded at the tips and flared out like an umbrella. None of them had any color whatsoever, only the black, almost inky outlines that gave the flowers their shape.

 The fact that it didn’t have any color yet meant that it was brand new…that it had only bloomed within the last day or so.

 Haruka felt the room spin around him, shadows seeping into the edges of his vision.

 “Whoa, hey! Haru!” Rin cried out as Haruka swayed on his feet. He stabilized his friend with his strong arms, guiding the raven-haired man back out to the locker room and lowering him to sit on the bench in front of their lockers. “You okay?”

 Haruka hung his head between his knees, sucking in deep breaths and holding them for a few seconds before expelling them shakily. Rin’s phone hung limply in his hand, and he couldn’t muster the strength to even lift it up to hand back to him. It didn’t make sense…it didn’t make sense. How could he have met his soulmate and not realize it? How could he have even met his soulmate if he was at work all day until now?

 Unless…it was a customer? But no, all of the customers that visited his shop today were regulars…so it couldn’t have been any of them. What if it was just some random stranger on the train he took to get to the rec center? How would he be able to track them down, then?

 “Haru, I think you should go home for tonight…you’re in no condition to swim, like this…” Rin said carefully, squatting down in front of his best friend. “I can have Sousuke bring the car ‘round so we can drive you home.”

 Words caught in his throat, Haruka swallowed hard before nodding silently. He felt Rin take his phone from his loosened grip and watched as his friend’s bare feet slapped against the tiled floor as he stepped away to call Sousuke. Haruka blew out another shaky breath, his hands coming up to grab fistfuls of his hair. The pain of pulling on the strands helped keep him grounded a little, allowed him to focus and center himself until the lightheadedness abated somewhat.

 He had never cared about meeting his soulmate, had never given it more than a passing thought for his whole life. Even watching the people around him meet their own soulmates and form unbreakable bonds with their destined persons, he never felt odd or left out because he hadn’t met his own. But now, when the moment actually came…it slipped through his fingers before he realized it. And it was too late.

.

 “What’s got you so down, Haru-chan?”

 Haruka looked up from his inventory form, peering at his employee through his dark bangs. Nagisa was looking at him with wide, earnest magenta eyes that had no business looking as worried as they did. Nagisa was supposed to be endless smiles and boundless positivity, and it irked Haruka that he was the reason for the blond’s concerned countenance.

 “It’s nothing,” he said, tapping his pen against the inventory sheet until the ink bled a puddle through the paper. He scowled and tore the sheet from the pack, dabbing up the wet ink with the already soiled paper and hoping it didn’t bleed all the way through the stack.

 “Then why do you look so gloomy?” Nagisa pressed, nuzzling his head against his boss’s shoulder, and it was obvious he wasn’t going to leave Haruka alone until he got some kind of answer. That was just how Nagisa was.

 His shoulder…

 Haruka sighed and clicked his pen closed, leaning against the counter. “Here, look at this,” he said pulling the strap of his apron over his head and tugging at the collar of his oversized shirt. He exposed as much of his right shoulder as he could to Nagisa, turning slightly to give the shorter man a better look.

 Nagisa peeked past the dark blue fabric and gasped at what he saw. “Haru-chan…your soul mark bloomed! That’s wonderful!”

 Haruka tugged his shirt back up, but left the top half of his apron still hanging down. “It’s really not,” he said dejectedly, leaning further down on the counter until his forehead was touching the soil-dusted surface. “I don’t even know who my soulmate is…”

 Haruka could feel the air shift around them with Nagisa’s sadness at his statement. “Oh, Haru-chan…”

 The jingling of the bell above the door drew both of their attention, cutting their conversation short for the time being. Haruka looked up from the counter and couldn’t help but shudder at the unexpected relief he felt when he saw who had come into the shop.

 “Good morning, Haru!” Makoto said, smiling his gentle smile and holding his hand up in a small wave as he made his way over toward Haruka and Nagisa.

 “Makoto,” Haruka acknowledged with a short nod, stepping around the counter when the strap of his apron caught on the corner. Haruka tripped at the sudden halt, but a pair of strong arms caught him before he could properly fall.

 “Are you alright?” Makoto asked, surprise still etched onto his kind face.

 Haruka hummed in response, noting the way his body was beginning to tingle again like a powerful electric current charged his blood and flowed through his veins as if they were wires.

 What the hell…?

 Makoto held onto him for a couple more seconds before almost jolting away as if he’d been stung. His bright green eyes met Haruka’s and they held each others’ gazes for what could have been seconds, minutes, hours, before Nagisa coughed none-too-subtly and gathered their attention.

 “Haru-chan, who’s this?” the blond asked with excited curiosity, leaning up to get a good look at Makoto’s face. Makoto backed away just a tad, a sheepish grin on his face.

 “This is Makoto; he’s the new delivery guy on Sousuke’s route,” Haruka explained, ducking his head to hide the blush he could feel heating his cheeks. He busied himself with fixing his apron to avoid any more…er, mishaps. Plus, as the owner of the shop, he had to look professional and presentable. A half-folded apron was neither of those things.

 “Hello,” Makoto said, holding out his hand for Nagisa to shake. “Nice to meet you…er…?”

 “I’m Nagisa!” the shorter man said brightly, taking Makoto’s hand in both of his smaller ones and shaking vigorously. “Very good to meet you, Mako-chan!”

 Makoto’s smile eased into that same gentleness as before. “I’ve got a bigger delivery for you today, Haru,” he said, turning slightly to face Haruka again while Nagisa still had a grip on his hand. “Sorry we’re a little late. Another stop ran over time by a bit.”

 “Not a problem,” Haruka said with a shake of his head. “Sousuke was usually later than this when it was just him, so don’t worry.”

 “I heard that,” Sousuke said, his deep voice drowning out the sound of bell chime on the door. He was wheeling a dolly in backwards with several boxes stacked on top of the metal lip, all labeled “FRAGILE.”

 “Oh, those must be the vases I ordered,” Haruka remarked, running over to clear a space by the coolers for Sousuke to set the boxes down. “Nagisa, could you put the door stopper down and help get the other boxes from the truck?”

 “Sure thing!” Nagisa said, practically jumping up and down in that enthusiastic way of his. Once he shoved the rubber wedge beneath the door, he bounded outside to retrieve some more of their packages.

 “Sousuke, let me take that!” Makoto said, taking the dolly from his boss before there was a chance for Sousuke to protest. The brunette followed Nagisa’s example and hurried out to the truck.

 Sousuke chuckled, rolling his shoulder. “They have way too much energy for this early in the morning.” His teal eyes then slid over to Haruka, darkening just a little with seriousness. “How are you doing after last night? You seemed…pretty shaken up, which isn’t like you.”

 Haruka looked down at his shoes, curling his toes inside. He didn’t really want to have to explain himself, especially with a near-stranger in possible earshot. Besides, he knew Sousuke had at least heard the gist of it from Rin in the car ride to Haruka’s place last night—he’d heard them whispering about it in the front seat. But he also didn’t want to leave Sousuke hanging.

 Instead, he changed topics somewhat. “How long did it take for your soul mark to start…gaining color? After you and Rin met?”

 Sousuke paused to think, tucking his hands into his pockets. It was then that Haruka realized, he’d never actually seen Sousuke’s mark. He’d only seen Rin’s, mostly when they went swimming. But it’d been in full color for as long as he could remember.

 “Well, I mean, we met in elementary school,” Sousuke said with a shrug. “And I know at least mine was in full color before he left for middle school in Australia, so…?”

 “I…see…” Haruka muttered, scratching at the back of his neck. He could feel his shoulder tingling again.

 “You didn’t have any color to yours last night, right?” Sousuke then asked.

 Haruka shook his head. “No, it…it was still just the outline…”

 “Can I see it?”

 Haruka froze, his hand at his side clenching into a fist. “I…don’t see why not?” he choked out against his better judgment. “It’s here…on my right shoulder blade…” he said, tapping at his shoulder with the hand that was already at the back of his neck. He didn’t bother taking off his apron this time, just shrugging enough of his shirt off for Sousuke to see the phlox blossoms on his skin.

 Sousuke came up beside him, tugging the shirt fabric away from Haruka’s shoulder enough to see the mark. “Uh, Haru, it’s…”

 “What?” Haruka asked, alarmed at Sousuke’s hesitance. The other man was rarely like that.

 “There’s already some color.”

 "What?”  Haruka repeated, already feeling that strange numbing sensation that he’d felt last night.

 Nagisa and Makoto were chattering away as they came back into the shop, Makoto with some more boxes on the dolly and Nagisa carrying a really tall box with aeration holes which meant that live plants were inside. They both froze at seeing Haruka’s ashen face.

 “Haru-chan, what’s the matter?” Nagisa said, setting down his box right where he stood and ran over to his boss and friend. “Do you feel sick?”

 Sick was an understatement. Haruka felt dizzy, like he was floating at the bottom of the pool and running out of air in his lungs, but his body was too heavy for him to swim to the surface. His stomach was doing flip-flops on itself and there was a deafening pounding in his ears that drowned out the concerned voices around him. Before he realized it, he was being picked up off the ground and carried in someone’s arms—where to, he had no idea. All he could do was stare up at the ceiling through hazy blue eyes, holding his breath so he didn’t puke. The tingling sensation grew much more intense, to the point where he felt needles all over his skin and his shoulder outright burned as if someone had set it aflame.

 When he came back to himself, he was lying on the small sofa in the break room at the back of the shop. Nagisa was standing above him, placing a cool, dampened washcloth to his forehead. Haruka’s palms felt sweaty and clammy, and he had a hard time curling his fingers into fists. They felt swollen.

 “Haru-chan, do you want to close the shop for the day?” Nagisa asked. “You need to rest.”

 Haruka barely managed a shake of his head. “N-no, I’ll be fine, just…go manage everything for a while until I can get up again….”

 Nagisa nodded resolutely. “You got it, Haru-chan. Mako-chan, come help me with the rest of the boxes?”

 Makoto looked up from where he stood at the end of the sofa. “Okay, sure, I can do that!”

 But before he could move, Sousuke stepped in front of him with his hand out, blocking Makoto’s path. “I’ll help Nagisa, you stay here with Haru until we’re done.”

 Hearing that made Haruka’s heart jump into his throat for some reason. He couldn’t figure out why.

 “O-okay, if you’re sure, Sousuke…” Makoto said, to which Sousuke nodded.

 “Water is in the little fridge over there if you need it,” Nagisa said, pointing to a mini-refrigerator in the corner of the small room. “We’ll hurry, okay?”

 Makoto hummed with a nod, and the two of them left to go finish getting the delivery in order.

 It was silent in the room, save for the sounds of Haruka’s slightly labored breathing. He was sweating up a storm, and he reached up with a shaky hand to press the cold cloth firmer against his forehead.

 “Um…do you…want some water, Haru? You might be dehydrated…?” Makoto asked, and damn if Haruka didn’t somehow find that nervousness adorable.

 “Sure, that might help,” Haruka rasped out, even though the thought of ingesting anything at the moment made his stomach churn. He listened to the faint sounds of Makoto shuffling over to the fridge, the opening and closing of the insulated door, the crunching of the plastic bottle in Makoto’s hand. A shadow descended over him, Makoto’s tall and broad frame blocking out the sunlight coming in from the windows.

 “Do you want to sit up? I can help you,” Makoto offered quietly.

 Haruka nodded curtly, reaching his arms out towards the gentle giant above him. As soon as Makoto’s hand circled around his wrist, Haruka felt that electrified feeling as if he’d been shot with a taser. A pained noise came from the back of his throat, alarming Makoto enough for him to let go of Haru’s wrist immediately.

 “S-sorry, I just…I’ll do it myself,” Haruka said through a wince, using whatever strength he could muster to pull himself to a sit against the arm of the sofa. When he pulled the cloth away from his face, he blinked his eyes open to see Makoto staring at him with those sunny green eyes. He was slowly flexing the fingers of his hand, forming a fist and relaxing over and over. “Are      you    alright?” Haruka asked, nodding to Makoto’s hand.

 “Hm? Oh, yeah,” Makoto assured him with a sweet smile. “My hand just got all tingly for a minute…like it feels when it falls asleep?”

 It took a second or two for the words to register, but once they did, Haruka could do nothing but stare wide-eyed at Makoto.

 So…he…Haruka wasn’t the only one who…

 “Oh, here’s your water, Haru,” Makoto said belatedly, holding the bottle out to Haruka.

 “Thanks…” Haruka said, reaching for the bottle. Their fingers brushed for only a moment, but it was enough to make Haruka’s entire arm go numb. Makoto seemed to have a similar reaction if the squint of his eye and quiet hiss through his teeth were anything to go by.

 “We’re done!” Nagisa’s voice could be heard before the man himself was seen. He came barreling into the break room with Sousuke leisurely strolling in behind him. "Oh, you're sitting up! Are you feeling any better, Haru-chan?"

 "A little," Haruka said, fumbling with numbed fingers to open the cap of the water bottle. He started out with small, slow sips.

 "Are you sure you're okay to stay at work?" Sousuke asked, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

 Haruka nodded, which was a bad move because it just made him feel dizzy again. "I'm fine, just…don't mention this to Rin. He'll be all over me about it if he finds out."

 Sousuke barked out a laugh. "You're not wrong about that." He then flicked his arm out to right the face of his wristwatch to check the time. "Well, if you're sure you're okay, Makoto and I have to make it to our next stop. We'll leave you in Nagisa's expert care."

 Nagisa stuck his tongue out at Sousuke. "You're so mean, Sou-chan."

 Haruka almost smiled at his friends' antics. Almost. He looked at Makoto, who'd remained quiet since the intrusion and actually did smile softly at the man. "Thanks for keeping an eye on me."

 Makoto flushed and offered Haruka a shy smile, scratching his cheek with his forefinger. "Ah, you're welcome. I didn't really do anything, though?"

 "You made sure Haru-chan didn't fall off the couch and die," Nagisa amended, throwing his arm around Makoto's shoulder, which was a sight in itself considering their height difference. "That's more than enough, don't you think?"

 "I-I guess…" Makoto said sheepishly.

 "Nagisa, unhand my coworker before I throw you over my shoulder and toss you into the trailer with the rest of the packages," Sousuke said. Although his tone was deadpan, his threat was clear.

 "What if we wanna keep Mako-chan here?" Nagisa asked, hanging off Makoto in some weird semblance of a hug. The taller man laughed, letting himself be jerked around by Nagisa with no complaints whatsoever. "Haru-chan likes him, right, Haru-chan?"

 Haruka blinked, looking between Nagisa and Makoto a few times before settling his gaze on Makoto. He hummed in affirmation, taking another sip of water in hopes of hiding his blush behind the bottle.

 Before anything else could be said, Sousuke manhandled Nagisa off of Makoto and began ushering his employee out the door before the little blond mayhem maker could get his hands on him again. "See you dorks tomorrow morning!" he said overly loudly, making his point.

 "See you tomorrow Nagisa, Haru!" Makoto said with a laugh, raising his arm to wave. The rolled up sleeve of his uniform shirt fell down to his elbow, revealing a cluster of black outlined flowers with slight pastel pink coloring at the tips of the petals on his forearm.

 Flowers that looked strangely like…

 But by the time Haruka thought to say anything, Sousuke and Makoto were long gone.

.

 Haruka sighed as he sank into the warm water, hunkering down until the water came up to right below his nose. The steam rising off the surface clouded around him, almost creating a bubble for him to exist in that separated him from the outside world. His bathtub wasn’t quite long enough for him to stretch out his legs completely, but even with them bent at the knee and his kneecaps poking out of the water, he could already feel his muscles relax.

 He definitely needed to relax after the last day and a half.

 Much of that time was spent in utter confusion, trying to figure out how in the world his soul mark could have bloomed without him realizing that he’d made contact with his soulmate. Not only that, but he’d apparently spent enough time with his soulmate over the past day for his mark to start coloring already.

 Then, when he’d gotten a glimpse of Makoto’s arm…well, that threw everything into extremely unfamiliar waters. And Haruka wasn’t used to being unfamiliar in any kind of water.

 Haruka sank beneath the hot water, his eyes closed. He felt the small pushes and pulls of the water, every little movement he made created tides and ripples in the small, confined area of his element. It calmed him, helped him clear his thoughts.

 When Haruka resurfaced, a decision had been made.

 He needed to ask Makoto to show him his soul mark.

.

 The next morning, when Haruka arrived at his shop at the very break of dawn, he was pleasantly surprised to see that some of his budded plants had bloomed.

 Perhaps the most pleasant and surprising ones were the garden phlox flowers, their colors soft and muted but no less beautiful for it, and when the creeping rays of the sun refracted through the glass of the windows and onto the petals, the gentle pinks and pastel purples really came to life.

 Haruka hoped that it was a good sign.

 He went about his normal morning routine of watering all the plants, enjoying the peace and calmness of the dawn. The gentle sound of the streams of water flowing from the nozzle of his mackerel watering can brought him a sense of clarity. When he moved on to the hose for the larger plants, the gentle hum of the spray nozzle lulled him into a familiar calmness. He felt ready to face the moment that could possibly change the rest of his life. He was still nervous, butterflies fluttering around in his stomach and that familiar tingling feeling in his fingers, but he had to do this. He had to.

 When he heard the gentle knock on the glass door, Haruka turned to see Makoto and felt immediately at ease.

 He turned off the hose and set it atop the tank, walking over to the door and unlocking it to let Makoto in.

 “Good morning, Haru,” Makoto said with his usual gentle smile, his head tilted slightly. “How are you feeling?”

 “Much better,” Haruka said, offering Makoto a small smile of his own.

 “I’m so glad,” Makoto sighed happily. “You really had us worried yesterday.”

 “Sorry about that…” Haruka said, averting his gaze. He felt a hand on his shoulder, then, giving it a gentle squeeze. And while the tingling and weird kind of numbing was still present, Haruka felt…warm. The kind of comforting warmth that came with cuddling in a blanket in the wintertime, or sinking into a hot bath at the end of a long day.

 “Makoto…”

 “Hm?”

 “Can…” Haruka swallowed, looking up at Makoto’s face. Blue eyes met green and Haruka gained his courage. “Can I see your soul mark?”

 A mixture of surprise and confusion crossed Makoto’s face. “My soul mark? Why?”

 Haruka sucked in a breath. He removed the top of his apron and unbuttoned the top few buttons of his shirt. He shrugged the collared top off his right shoulder, enough to where his own soul mark was visible, and turned just enough for Makoto to see it.

 “Because I need to see if it matches mine.”

 He heard Makoto gasp, but what that sharp intake of breath meant, Haruka wasn’t sure.

 Until Makoto held his arm out for Haruka to see, and Haruka blew out a breath that had been stuck in his lungs for what felt like an eternity.

 Staring up at him from a tanned forearm was a fully bloomed bunch of phlox flowers, with soft pastels fading in from the centers of the blooms.

 “I had a feeling…” Makoto said through a small laugh, though his laugh sounded a little watery around the edges. “When I got back in the truck, that first day…I noticed my mark had bloomed…and every time I saw you, I just felt…I don’t know…warm? Tingly? I can’t really describe it…”

 Haruka turned back around to face Makoto, his shirt still hanging off his shoulder. There were a couple tears gathered in the corners of Makoto’s gorgeous green eyes, and Haruka was surprised to discover that he had a very similar affliction currently. He blinked his own tears away and hesitantly reached his hand up to cup Makoto’s cheek, his thumb just barely caressing the skin beneath Makoto’s eye.

 “I felt the same…” Haruka admitted, then let out a breath of a laugh. “Though, I guess it definitely took more of a physical toll on me than it did on you.”

 “It sure did,” Makoto laughed quietly, bringing his own hand up to hold Haruka’s hand against his face.

 And there it was again…the tingling feeling. Though instead of coming in as a shock to the system, instead of making him feel sick and numb, it made Haruka’s blood sing, made his spirit flutter, made his heart slow down to a tempo that was nothing but comfort and peace.

 Why hadn’t he cared before about meeting his soulmate? If he knew it’d feel like this…

 Well. That didn’t really matter now, did it?

 Makoto leaned forward, touching his forehead to Haruka’s. Against his will, Haruka’s eyes slid shut.

 "So...now what?" Haruka whispered.

 Makoto sighed a laugh, and Haruka felt his warm breath against his face. It smelled minty, like he had brushed his teeth recently. "I'm...not really sure…" Makoto said hesitantly. "But...I suppose we'll figure it out, right?"

 Haruka smiled, leaning his head on Makoto's shoulder. "Yeah...I suppose we will."

.

 Haruka had never learned much about hanakotoba, aside from what his grandmother had taught him before she passed away. As a florist, he didn't have much use for it. All that mattered to him was how certain flowers and fillers looked together in arrangements, not so much the meanings behind them.

 But since he'd met Makoto, his curiosity had been piqued. He hadn't thought about it before, but...what if soul marks had some kind of meaning? And that meaning was relevant to the two soulmates who shared their mark?

 When he discovered what phlox meant—harmony, united souls—he knew there was no way it was just coincidence.

 So Haruka started looking into other flowers and their meanings, learning more about this hidden language embedded in nature. Once he was versed enough in certain plants and blooms, he began creating a subset of products based around hanakotoba. Just little mason jar arrangements, boutonnieres, corsages, other smaller things of such nature that had just that little extra meaning to them for customers who were looking for that sort of thing.

 He'd also taken a liking to making flower crowns, which was what he was currently working on. He had blooms of both light pastels and deep, vibrant purples on the worktable in front of him. Various tools were scattered about, as well as wiring and floral tape to hold things together. He also had some filler flowers to go along with the main flower of the crown—things like baby's breath that would nicely accent the petunias he was working with for this particular crown. It was for Makoto.

 "Haru?" a voice said, following the jingles of the bells above the front door of the shop.

 Haruka looked up from his worktable, a small smile automatically in place on his lips as soon as he saw Makoto standing at the shop front. "You're early…" he commented, tilting his head slightly. "You're never early."

 Makoto laughed at that as he made his way toward his soulmate, dropping onto the stool next to Haruka. "What are you working on?"

 Haruka's gaze turned back to the mess of flowers and leaves and stems on the table, where a full circlet of petunias sat amongst the wreckage. "Flower crown," he said, picking up his craft and tweaking some of the blooms so they sat correctly.

 "It's beautiful," Makoto said, nudging Haruka's shoulder with his own. The shoulder with his soul mark, now in full color beneath his shirt.

 "It's for you," Haruka said, reaching up with both hands and gently settling the crown atop Makoto's olive brown hair. He was right, the purple did look good on him.

 A smile that was more precious than any other lit up Makoto's face and his cheeks flushed a pretty pink. Haruka had a hard time keeping his heart from thundering in his chest at the gorgeous sight. "Thank you, Haru, I love it." Makoto reached up and gently ran his forefinger over one of the vivid violet petals. "What kind of flowers are these?"

 "Petunias," Haruka answered, fixing the crown so that it sat just slightly angled on Makoto's head, making him look even more adorable than before. "They mean gentleness, or 'your presence soothes me.'"

 Makoto ducked his head and hid his bashful expression behind his large, gentle hands. Haruka wanted nothing more to pull Makoto's hands away from his face and nuzzle their noses together.

 "You'd better make one for yourself, then, to match," Makoto said, allowing Haruka to take his hands. "Because that's exactly how you make me feel."

 Haruka fought down his own blush and swallowed the lump in his throat. "...Maybe tomorrow," he acquiesced, touching his nose to Makoto's.

 Makoto nuzzled his nose against Haruka's. "You ready to close up shop?"

 "Yeah, it's just about time, isn't it?" Haruka said, reluctantly pulling away from Makoto and getting up from his stool. He still had quite the mess leftover from his little project, and normally he made sure everything was spic and span before he left the shop for the night. But he and Makoto had planned a date of sorts and he didn't want to hold that up.

 He and Nagisa would just have to do extra cleaning in the morning.

 Haruka took off his apron and hung it on the hook by his arrangement counter, then moved to wash his hands of all the dirt and pollen. In the meantime, he heard Makoto pulling the metal gates across the front windows closed.

 As soon as the lock on the front door was clicked shut, Haruka pocketed his keys and immediately slid his hand into Makoto's and intertwined their fingers. They walked down the sidewalk at a leisurely pace, nudging each other's shoulders now and then, squeezing each other's hands in reassurance of the other's presence.

 Makoto's crown of petunias stayed on his head for the rest of the night.

[cubeswhump]

Will Not be a Victim for my character, Blondie.

The neglected Blondie. I need to get back to my Powers Verse too. And the immortal bitches. I have a Sweetie and Michelle story drafted though.

Warnings for mentions of violence, referenced torture, bit of ableism. Pretty tame compared to what I usually write.

The phone rang from her nightstand, and again, and again. Then it started pinging with texts: Terry-Ellen has spoken to me but my own daughter won’t answer her phone.

I’ll be arriving at your house at 6PM.

Blondiw growled and dialled the number. The phone rang only twice before the deep voice came on the other line: “Oh, so you’ve decided to stop ignoring me?”

“Fucking hell, Dad. I’m twenty-three,” Blondie reminded him. “Chill.’

"Language, Melinda,” he scolded lightly. “I don’t care of you’re eighty-three. You’re still my daughter and we just got you back. I need to be sure that you’re okay.”

"I'm fine, Dad."

"Are you really?"

Blondie pinched the bridge of her nose. Don't call him a nosy twat, don't call your dad a nosy twat. She breathed out. "You hired a fucking bodyguard for me. "That's humiliating enough, and now you're prying into my life like I'm a child."

"Language. Good lord, you take after your mother," he sighed. "Who are you embarrassed in front of? You haven't left your house in more than two weeks." His voice was so even and annoyingly calm. Blondie swallowed back the snarl crawling up her throat. "Is it really prying to be concerned about my daughter? I just want to know that you're okay. I haven't seen you since-"

"Okay, okay, I'll stop by tomorrow. No need to stop by." She knew her father would have some words if she saw the state her house was in. Tej wasn't hired to clean after the slob, and no one had patched up the hole Blondie punched in the living room.

"Are you sure? If I come over you can stay home and rest," he offered.

"You just got on my ass for staying in my house!"

"You know that is not what happened, Melinda."

"I'll be there at eleven in the morning, okay?"

"I'll expect you by twelve."

Blondie huffed and hung up as he chuckled.

***

Tej was prodding her. "Get up. We've gotta go soon."

Blondie lifted her head abd ahot rhe other wonan a glare. "There's no we. You're staying home."

"You know that's not how it works," she said, unfazed. "I'll make you coffee."

"Don't." Blondie pyr one foot on the floor and grabbed one crutch. The other must have fallen over at some point in the night, and Blondie whacked Tej with the crutch in her hand when the thin woman tried to help her retrieve the fallen one. "Scram, bitch."

"Very nice, " Tej said sarcastically, handing her the crutch anyway. She caught the crutch Blondie swung at her. "Have you ever considered treating the help like people?"

"Go on, call me a bitch. There's nothing in your contract that says you can't insult me, yeah?"

"I'll leave you to get dreased," Tej said dryly. "Your hair looks nice. Did you wash it?"

She shut the door behind her just in time for the television remote to crash into the wood.

Blondie had only worn bath robes and undergarments for the last few weeks and she hadn't gotten to modifying any pants to her new body. Skirts? No, fighting in a skirt wasn't a great idea - if she needed to fight. Fights were always possible.

Shorts. A pair of shorts, one sock, one combat boot. The left bood sat all alone and sad. She kicked it over. Hair in a bun.

"Your coffee, Blondie." Tej shoved the steaming mug right in her face while Blondie was trying to sneak out the front door.

"I told you not to make me coffee," Blondie grumbled.

"Coconut creamer and one Sweet-N-Low," Tej tempted her, voice sing-song.

"I'm getting coffee on the way to my dad's, shithead." And she was out tje door, slamming it behind her - or trying to. Tej caught it just before it closed and slipped out after her.

"Want me to drive? You can relax," Tej offered, reaching for the keyring in Blondie's hand. Blondie jerked it away.

"I'll relax when you're dead. It's my fucking car."

"Cool, cool."

Tej was in the passenger's seat before Blondie had even opened her door so she couldn't even lock her out. Tej smiled at her knowingly. Blondie gripped the steering wheel sp hard her fingers turned white.

Tej tried to make conversation throughout the drive and Blondie turned the volume up a few notches every time she opened her mouth. After a million years, she pulled up in front of the coffee shop.

"I'll get you an iced mocha cappuccino," Blondie said as she got out of the car. Tej was stepping out too.

"Nah, I wanna look at the menu," she replied. Blondie squeezed her eyes shut and clenched her teeth, reciting the "calming phrases" from her counseling sessions as a teenager.

When was this place ever this busy? Blondie sighed as she joined the line, Tej at her side. "You know, you're paying for your own shit."

"That's fair," Tej shrugged. "Your daddy pays me weekly."

Blondie sneered at her.

The line inched forward. A woman and her child joined. Seriously, did the entire fucking town want coffee right now?

"Wow..." the woman said, her voice hushed. "What happened?"

Blondie didn't realize the woman was talking to her until she felt a tap on her shoulder.she turned around, finding the woman's wide eyes on her still-bandaged stump. The little girl stared too, reaching for Blondie's crutch. Blondie jerked it away from her sticky hand and scowled, but neither noticed.

"What happened?" the woman asled again. "Why don't you get a prosthetic leg?"

"I pesteres someone with intrusive questions and she pulled out a machete," Blondie snapped. The woman recoiled.

"Ma'am, you're being very insensitive, and you should teach your child not to touch anyone's mobility aids." Tej launched right into a lecture. "Please treat my friend as you would treat-"

Blondie's temper boiled over. She raised one crutch and bashed it into the woman's knee. Tej's hand clamped over her own mouth as the woman fell over with a screech, dragging her daughter down with her.

"Oops. My bad." Blondie turned her back on the pair.

"Did you see that?" the woman cried as she got back to her feet. The cashier looked over from the customer he was dealing with, frowning.

"I'll be out fast," Blondie promised the cashier. "No trouble."

They walked out with their coffees and gluten-filled breakfast, Blondie's coffee spouting steam that smelled of coconut... Something she could have gotten at home. Tej predictably got a mocha cappuccino.

"I mean," Tej finally said during their resumed drive, mouth full of bagel, "not that I blame you much, but public battery isn't a food luck."

Blondie turned the radio up higher.

The guard let them into the gated, cookie cutter community. Towering houses were identical, painted a cream not a shade lighter or darker than the house nextdoor. Perfect gardens, no blade of grass even a centimeter overgrown. One house had flowers a different shade of pink than the rest. Blondie might have struggled to differentiate the houses if Chase weren't waving frantically at the end of one driveway.

"Melinda, love, how are you?" The large man was coming at her with open arms as she stepped out of the car. She was too slow thinking of an excuse to get out of hugging her stepdad, and he squeezed her tight.

"Peachy," she told him.

He hugged Tej too before letting both women into the house. He was talking a mile a minute and Blondie let Tej handle the conversation.

"I see you brought beverages. No tea then?" he asked. Blondie shook her head. "Oliver's in his study."

"Tell him hi for me," Tej chirped, and Blondie decided she would not do that. She hurried away when the other two started discussing how much they lift at the gym.

115 pounds? Unimpressive, Tej.

She didn't bother knocking on the mahogany door, throwing it right open. "Yo."

Oliver swiveled around in his chair like a James Bond villain. He even looked the part with his coiffed grey hair and serious expression. "Good morning, Melinda. You were almost on time. Have a seat."

"Nice to see you too," Blondie said sarcastically, falling back ontp the plump sofa.

"Oh, no, you're covered in crumbs! Why didn't you brush yourself off outside?"

"Just vacuum later. I had a muffin."

Oliver sighed, turning back to his laptop. "Depending on your recovery time, we'll get you fitted for prosthesis." He flicked through images. Some were very realistic and even matching her skin color, others clunky and robotic, some abstract and hardly resembling a limb. "We should find a design that fits your activity level, preferably a more realistic one. No one has to know. At that point we'll get you to that physical therapist I've been talking to, and-"

"Whoa, hold on a minure. Don't I get a say?" Blondie snapped. "And who said I want a realiatic one? Maybe I don't want to pretend I'm fucking normal."

"Whatever you want, darling. But I'm not going to let you hold yourself back."

"You tell me to take it easy abd slow down and then you get on my ass for being behind the curve. The fuck is that?"

Oliver sighed. He turned back tp his daughter, choosing his next words carefully. "I know how much you enjoy your hobbies. I think it'll be better for your mental health if you get back into dance and martial arts soon."

Back into dance. She was already the largest girl in the studio, dwarfing the tiny instructor even when she was twelve. Skilled as she was, she never had a ballerina's body and her instructor's main complaints were her thundering footsteps and "unladylike gait". Well, at least pointe shoes wouldn't hurt a prosthetic leg.

"It's my body and my life," Blondie reminded him.

"And it's my money that pqid your medical bills," he shot back. She rolled her eyes. "Melinda, you know I just want what's best for you. I want to help you. I need to help you."

"Help yourself first," Blondie snarled. "How's your boytoy?"

"I've been married to Chase since you were eight. Stop calling him my boytoy," Oliver sighed. Any other time, Blondie might have laughed at how annoyed her dad got when she mocked his husband. "And fifteen years isn't such a significant age difference when you're out of your twenties."

"He's a gold-digger."

"He's well worth what he costs, and he loves you like his own daughter. Come on, stop changing the subject. You mean so much to me. You were the victim of such a-"

"I'm not a victim," she hissed, leaning forward in her seat. Her eyes narrowed. "If anyone's a victim, it's that bitch Camilla. You know, queen of the cabbage patch."

Oliver's eyebrows knit together. "Cabbage patch?"

"Because she's a vegetable," Blondie said, and her father sighed heavily.

"I'm not denying that she's a bad person, but you don't need to be discriminatory. Other, much nicer people live with brain damage."

"Dad, shut the fuck up and listen to me," Blondie demanded. "I fought my way out. I'm not a victim!"

"Yes, yes, you're a survivor," he said in a voice like he was placating a toddler.

"No, I'm Melinda fucking Van Doren."

He lifted his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Before anything, you're my daughter and I want what's best for you."

"I actually know what's best for me because I am me."

"I'm your father. I know you pretty damn well."

"Yeah, okay. I'll keep in tough." Blondie started to stand, but Oliver held a hand up.

"Stay for lunch. Samantha made two extra plates."

It still weirded her out that her father had a cook. Her mother missed having servants after the divorce, but Blondie tried her best to keep her home free of employees. And she got stuck with Tej, the most intrusive Van Doren employee.

Chase brought two plates of chicken parmesan to the damn study.

"Workaholic," he said and rolled his eyes, kissing Oliver on the cheek. Blondie rolled her eyes. "Well, I've been having a lovely chat with Miss Tej while you two have been bonding."

Bonding. Sure.

Blondie stabbed into her chicken. She imagined it was the Queen - no, Camilla - that she was stabbing over and over, making sure she never recovered. Because she wasn't the Queen's victim.

She was Melinda "Blondie" Van Doren. She was a fucking hero and people would know that soon.

[laurkamkitchen]

Up until making these yesterday, I hadn’t had a PopTart in probably at least a year or two. Just recently, Ryan bought some and got me thinking about them again, and then a girl I watch on YouTube made her own vegan ones, and so I decided that, hey, I could do that. I will say this recipe is not an easy one. It has a lot of steps and involves making your own pastry, which is never simple. I think this was actually my first time trying it in absence of yeast in making cinnamon rolls and buns, and even with that experience under my belt, I still had to do a little trial and error with it. My first issue was that I used the dough attachment on my food processor rather than the blade, thinking that made more sense for this situation. But in order to get the frozen butter cut into the flour, I really actually needed the blade, but by the time I realized that, it was mostly too late. Instead of pulsing, I ended up having to just go ahead and blend on high, probably working the pastry far more than I should have. I also doubt my butter was cold enough due to its transfer to our new freezer. I then ended up adding too much water after not paying enough attention to what I was doing, so the final dough was considerably stickier than it should have been. But in beeswax I wrapped it and into the fridge it went. I used the whisk attachment on my immersion blender to make the filling, which was probably the right call considering the dark brown sugar I have on hand has been quite clumpy. The rolling pin process was what really took me the most time, as I had a lot of difficulty finding the right way to roll out an even rectangle. (Although, in my defense, it probably doesn’t help that our rolling pin is an old wine bottle.) I used a tape measure and a pizza cutter to cut out my rectangles and admittedly did have to reroll my pastry several times before I had ten even ones, so if it didn’t get overworked in the food processor, it definitely did here. It might have been worth that though, because once I got to assembling, they turned out looking nice and prim. Rarely am I ever proud of my presentation, but these were honestly just adorable looking, and I had a little too much fun crimping their edges and forking holes in them. I honestly don’t know why this calls for so much milk for brushing; I barely made a dent in my 1/6 cup, as more than a couple quick brushes seemed to flood the holes with milk. Maybe if I had brushed more they would have needed the full time in the oven; I pulled these out right around 23 minutes as the edges were beginning to brown. In halving the glaze, I think I ended up using about a tablespoon and a half of milk; while that turned out my preferred consistency, it admittedly was a bit runnier than it probably should have been and some of my previously neat presentation got lost in the overflow. When it finally came time to trying them, the pastry was, unsurprisingly, overworked and not quite as flaky as I’d hoped. But are real PopTarts all that flaky? No! And so I think in the end these came out tasting pretty much exactly like the real thing. The filling, from what I remember, was almost identical in taste, and the overall texture was very similar too. These were a lot of work, but they tasted amazing, and I learned a lot in this process, so they were definitely worth it. These would make a great rainy afternoon or quarantine activity; they require a lot of patience, but, at the end of the day, where else are you ever gonna find vegan PopTarts?