#I think perhaps I will get myself donuts now

[musical-chick-13]

"I hate this complicated female antagonist because she's EVIL and she SUCKS and is TERRIBLE." Well, she wasn't written for you. She was written for me, and I think I deserve that sometimes <3

[gwqine]

‘ADDITIONS AND DONUTS’

pairing: anthony lockwood x fem! reader

SYNOPSIS: lockwood proves to George and Lucy just how well he knows you.

THEME: just two highly oblivious individuals at each other’s throats

WARNINGS: none

NOTES: not proofread. requests open, leave a comment or a message. comment to join my taglist. click here to see my masterlist.

My work is not to be reposted, copied, translated or used in any form without explicit permission from myself.

"And this is the kitchen!"

You turned your head at the sound of the kitchen door opening with a rather loud thud, followed by a pair of footsteps. One of these was light, hesitant, but the other was deafening. The sound rattled the messy table, littered with countless papers and files, and Lockwood’s eyes widened at the state. You saw him glance at the red-haired girl beside him sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. His hair, you noticed, was gelled to one side today, and at the sight, you could barely suppress a little snort. Lockwood’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, they narrowed as if he knew exactly what you were thinking. His gaze trailed over to your gloved hands, and the seemingly endless pile of dishes. His features contorted into a smirk at a painfully slow pace. He didn’t envy you one bit.

“That’s our dishwasher,” he said, grinning at the girl to his right. She must have believed him, because her lips parted a fraction as she looked over at the mess before you. “Shut up, Lockwood.” You smiled at her pointedly, and she returned the gesture, but it seemed difficult, perhaps nervous. Her shoulders were slightly hunched with the weight of her bag—no, bags. She fumbled with the straps of the one on her right, glancing at Lockwood anxiously as if she expected some sort of introduction. He noticed it, and cleared his throat loudly.

“Y/n, this is Lucy Carlyle, our newest addition. Miss Carlyle, Y/n.” He turned his back to you, yet remained purposefully loud. “She’s a handful,” he told her, and you could feel the boy smirking. “I’d steer clear.”

“I assure you i’m not,” you swore to her, turning away and turning on the tap. “And you could have at least taken her bags, Lockwood.”

Behind you, Lucy had frozen. Lockwood looked down at the bags as though they’d appeared from thin air.

“Ah— would you like me to…”

Lucy shook her head, pulling the straps of her bag tighter over her shoulder. “It’s fine.”

Lockwood nodded awkwardly. “Well, er– you’ll both be sharing the room upstairs, like I said.”

He looked over at you as you rinsed off a marble mug and placed it to dry. “Y/n, if you could show her upstairs?”

You turned off the tap thankfully, practically throwing off the rubber gloves beside the sink. “Gladly,” you replied with a grin, moving around the table towards the door where they both stood. Lockwood moved suddenly. His arms were now crossed, and he stood in the middle of the little room you had to get to the door. His gaze travelled around the kitchen, silent and still as though he expected you to ask him to move. When you didn’t, he let out a huff and moved of his own accord.

Lucy followed you into the hallway, her eyebrows furrowed. You tucked your hair back behind your ears and held up an arm. “Here,” you offered, nodding towards her bags. “I’ll grab one.”

She smiled properly this time, a glimmer of gratitude in her eyes and she swung a bag into your hands. She let out a sigh you recognised to be relief. You could already tell you were going to like her very much.

“I’m sorry for this,” she began, pursuing you up the stairs. “I know you were busy.”

You dismissed this with a wave of your free hand. “Not at all. I hate doing dishes.”

She blinked. “Do you have to do them often?”

God, did she really think you were a cleaner around here?

“No, thankfully not. We have a whole rota.” You grinned at her over your shoulder. “I think i’d run away if that was the case.”

She didn’t laugh. Her steps faltered ever so slightly, her face falling. Your own smile faded. You turned awkwardly and proceeded up onto the landing.

“Lockwood’s room,” you told her, pointing to a door with notable distaste. Opposite it was another. “That’s George’s.” His door was open a fraction, and inside you could see books thrown across his desk. Lucy had noticed it too, and the pair of you looked at each other, both of your lips tugging upwards slightly. “I’m so glad there’s finally another girl in the house.”

This got a laugh out of her. “Are they that bad?”

You paused thoughtfully. “George can be…passionate, at times. Eager. Likes things orderly, but once he starts working, he’s a machine.”

She hummed, looking at the crack in his door again. “I got that feeling in the interview.”

You grinned. “You’re the only person today who hasn’t left screaming, be that because of George or that stupid skull.”

She looked unfazed, as though she expected such.“And Lockwood?”

You motioned for her to follow you up the next set of stairs. “Unbearable, to put it simply. He can talk for the whole of England though, I’ll give him that.”

She frowned at this, dragging along her bag and dropping it outside the attic. “Is that a good thing?”

She noted how your lips widened an inch. “Good for business. Bad for bickering around the house. This is our room.”

You pushed open the door, and headed in. Lucy followed, pausing to look around. Your room wasn’t huge, not at all, but you liked to think it was as homely as could be. You’d hung up lights wherever you could reach, plastered little polaroids in a line beside your bed. She smiled at the sight.

“I’ll shuffle by bed up,” you told her, looking over at it to assess how much impact that would have. “That should widen this side of the room slightly, and then we can get rid of that desk. It barely gets used.”

Lucy nodded, smiling gently at the thought as you set down her bag. “Thank you.”

You smiled gently. “No problem. I’d better go and finish in the kitchen before George riots. If you need me, just let me know, yeah?”

She nodded, and you took it as your cue to leave, shutting the door behind you to give her some privacy. It was a lot to take in, you knew that. You’d been just as hesitant at first, but it had passed. All she needed was a bit of room to get used to the chaos that followed Lockwood and Co. wherever they went.

Humming gently to yourself, you headed down the stairs to get to the kitchen. But on the landing below, you came across the devil himself. His hand rested on the handle of his door, but he paused, glancing over his shoulder at the sound of your footsteps. He grinned toothily.

“Haven’t scared her off, have you?”

You raised a brow challengingly. “If that face of yours didn’t scare her off, believe me, mine won’t.”

He pouted dramatically, but stepped closer, voice falling slightly as he leaned on the frame of the staircase. “She's a good listener, from what we saw in the interview. I think this is finally our breakthrough.” The excitement in his voice was unmistakable.

“Really?” Your own voice had lowered. “That good?”

He nodded, glancing up as though he thought Lucy might hear it. He leaned closer, his voice falling to a whisper. You’d have hit him, in any other circumstance, but this was clearly something intriguing. “She told me she’d passed Level Four,” he whispered, and you frowned, wondering where this was headed. “I’ve just checked with DEPRAC and they’ve denied.”

Your brows knit together. “What? Why on Earth would she lie?”

Lockwood shrugged. “I haven’t the faintest. But she’s good.”

You bit your lip. “I need to go finish downstairs.”

Lockwood didn’t seem to care; he fell into step beside you as you made your way down the steps, a stupid lopsided smile on his face. “This could be it,” he informed you excitedly, but you knew him well enough to know that he was heading somewhere with this. “Just imagine it! George as our researcher, Miss Carlyle as our listener. Me, as the handsome face of this agency!”

He smirked at you sideways, waiting for you to wonder where on earth your name came into the mix. You sighed. “I’m not even going to ask.”

“No, go on!” urged Lockwood. “Ask!”

You exhaled loudly. “Fine. What about me?”

His smile widened unbelievably, almost ear to ear. “The finest dish scrubber in London!”

He barely had time to slam and lock shut the library door as you chased him.

A few hours later, Lucy found herself sitting at the kitchen table with George, deepy immersed in a book. He barely spared her a glance, so much so that she didn’t think he even kneel she was here at all. Instead, she sat assessing the notes scribbled across the tablecloth before her.

The most recent one, it seemed, was a rather exaggerated drawing of Lockwood, his head at least three times bigger than the rest of him. She couldn't help but smile a little.

A sudden crash upstairs practically brought her heart up into her throat. Her eyes were wide, and she looked hurriedly at the boy across her. He seemed unfazed.

“Is everything okay?” She asked, looking up apprehensively. She seemed to think the roof would collapse down on her any second now.

“You get used to it,” replied George, taking a sip from his steaming cup of tea without looking away from his book.

She fumbled with the edge of the tablecloth, as if assessing whether she had the place to say what was on her mind. A cry of “Lockwood!” echoed down the hallway, making her eyes widen again. She’d expected chaos, of course, based on what you had told her, but not like this. “Are they erm— is there something going on between them?”

George turned a page. “Define something.”

Lucy hesitated. “You know… romantically?”

George’s book lowered instantly, his eyes fixed on her as though she’d cursed his entire bloodline without a care in the world. “I should hope not. They’d set the world alight.”

Lucy bit back a grin. That sounded close enough to her.

She heard footsteps in the hallway, and soon the door opened, and in stalked a jolly looking Anthony Lockwood. “Oh, hello!” He exclaimed at the sight of Lucy, as though he’d forgotten she had even been here. He headed over to the kettle, fumbling with its switch as he looked out of the window. “I thought you’d already gone to bed,” he paused thoughtfully, mid-way through grabbing his mug. “It’s probably good you didn’t. That racket she’s making upstairs would have kept you up.”

George tutted loudly from behind his book, and Lockwood’s head snapped back as if he was offended. “What?”

“Do you need to wind her up at every chance you get?” He exclaimed, placing down his book. “You know it never ends well! I go to bed with a headache every night! Not to even mention what the neighbours must think!”

Lockwood chuckled, pulling the chair beside Lucy out from under the table. “Come on, George. Lighten up, it's funny.”

“Does she find it funny?” Interrupted Lucy, and Lockwood glanced at her sideways. She froze, as though she had accidentally spoke out of turn, but he didn't seem too bothered. A smile spread over his face again, and he leaned back in the chair.

“She does. Wouldn’t dare admit it.” He stood up at the ping of the kettle and went over to it, his back to the pair once again.

“Doesn't seem it.” grumbled George.

“You wouldn't be able to tell, George.” said Lockwood, a hint of annoyance laced in his tone.

“It's not hard to tell that she's mad, Lockwood.”

“She’s not mad, George.” It was now Lockwood's turn to tut. He turned to face them, his back to the counter top as he mixed the mug in his hand with a little spoon. “She only scrunches her nose like that when she's holding back a smile. And she’s not a kid. She doesn’t chase people she’s angry at, nor does she push them the way she does me all the time, with her hands flat forward like that.” He took a sip. “It's too soft to do any damage.”

Lucy stared at him, lips parted, and then over at George, who had stopped mid sip, his mug in the air, and his thick, dark brows knitted together. Lockwood, on the other hand, continued with a little smile, paying no heed to the pair at the table.

“And if she was mad, you know she'd raise her eyebrows while shouting at us all," he stated matter-of-factly, “and she would be sat here right now here tugging on her sleeves and eyeing us in hope that we say something.”

George looked almost distressed as he met Lucy's gaze at these words, remembering the conversation they had only minutes ago. Lockwood took a seat in his chair again, mug on the table.

“And she isn't giving me the silent treatment. And most importantly,” he paused to reach for a chocolate biscuit, before leaning back with a grin as he took a bite. “She isn't calling me Anthony. That would be a dead giveaway to anyo— why are you two looking at me like that?”

He looked between them, brows furrowed at their relentless gaze. “Is there something on my face?”

George shook his head in disbelief. “You fool!”

Lockwood's forehead crinkled. He looked to Lucy, who shrugged, pushing her chair back with a piercing screech and getting up.

“I should get to bed,” she told the pair awkwardly. “Goodnight.”

Lockwood nodded, still frowning and bid her farewell. George, meanwhile, remained astounded, his book forgotten. “I can't believe it!”

“You can’t believe that she doesn’t get mad?” Lockwood scoffed, smiling as though he found George ridiculous.

George’s face was scrunched up incredulously. “You’re oblivious!”

Taking his book beneath an arm, he left without another word, muttering incoherently. Lockwood stared after him, wondering what on earth had gotten into the boy.

“Lunatic,” he said finally, giving up and looking down at his tea with a shake of his head.

“You’re no better.” Lockwood feigned a dramatic sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. He watched you head over to the fridge with a grin. “Talking to yourself is a sign of insanity, did you know?”

“Sounds about right,” he replied, resting his elbows on the table before him. “Seeing as you do it all the time.”

“That’s what being around you does to people.” You shut the fridge, and Lockwood caught side of a white box in your hands. He grinned.

“Give me a donut.”

It was more of a request than a demand. He saw how your own face morphed into a devilish smile as you plopped down in George’s empty chair. “No.”

His beam had disappeared, now replaced with a look of irritation. “Just one, come on.”

You stared at him, knowing damn well that it was pestering the boy. “And why would I do that?”

“Because I'm your favourite?” He said hopefully, but the laugh that left you told him it was pointless.

“Try again, Lockwood.”

He crossed his arms. “Because I’m your Boss? Is that good enough of a reason?”

Your grin said it was not.

Lockwood groaned. “Oh, for goodness sake! Just one!”

Your face softened slightly, and Lockwood noted it. He sat slightly more hunched, plastering the most helpless look he could on his face. It must have worked, because you’d opened the box and looked over at him.

“The white one, right? Coloured sprinkles?”

Lockwood nodded eagerly, hand held out. You reached into the box, and he saw a look of fake guilt pass over your features.

“Oh no, would you look at that! I've already took a bite!”

Lockwood let out an incredulous gasp of offence. “What?”

“Sorry, Boss.” The title felt so foreign on your tongue, but you carried on nonetheless. “You wouldn't want one I've already bitten, right?” You sighed dramatically. “Looks like you'll have to go buy your own.”

With a smirk irritating enough to counter his usual one, you held up the white donut in your hand so it was clearly on display. Lockwood's eyes remained on it, studying the bite in it closely, and then onto you. His gaze remained steady, threatening even, and you held yours too, but you could feel a smile threatening to bloom. But suddenly, his eyes had lit up, like an idea had crossed his mind. In the time you had frowned, Lockwood had already reached across the table and pulled your hand over to him by the wrist. He took a bite out of the donut and sat back to swallow it. Jaw hanging open, you looked from him to the donut, then to his fingers around your wrist tightly. Lockwood seemed to notice it too, for he let go instantly.

“You won't want one I've already bitten, Y/n.” He quoted with a smirk, holding his hand out again, looking pointedly to the donut you still grasped. With a scowl, you handed it over. “Thought so.”

He took an exaggerated bite from it, and his eyes travelled onto the rest of the box, which you grabbed and hugged to your chest. “Don't even try it. The rest are mine and Lucy's.”

“I'm sure Lucy won't want all of them, Y/n.”

“Well I do,” you shot back defensively. “So back off.”

He laughed as you stormed out of the kitchen, steps echoing off the floorboards.

“Good night to you too!” He called, and you could practically hear him grinning.

"Unbearable," you muttered, but the smile on your face as you took the stairs two at a time wasn't one that would disappear any time soon.

[paniniichan]

Ballade of the Lost Child - Prologue

Characters: Niki, Yuzuru Proofreaders: Aru, Oli

Niki: Nomnom…♪

Kuu~u. This “hashimaki¹” is super yummy! Guess I was lucky there was a food stand here.   

It’s so delicious, why don’t more people know about this?

This world truly is weird~. Society should acknowledge “hashimaki” so much more.

It’s a flour-based food and it’s super easy to eat. You can even choose its flavour.

(In falsetto) Welcome ♪ Which flavour sauce would you like? Soy sauce flavour? Or how about cheese? –Hm~m, I just can’t choose!  

…Whoops. Woah, that was close. I almost passed that place by accident…!

Nahaha. I suddenly forgot why I’d come out here since I came across such delicious food~. 

Ooh, this line is huge!? Is this for those doughy churros that are trending at the moment!?

I thought I could avoid the crowds by coming earlier, but there are already so many people here.

I guess people gather at places with delicious food after all~.

In other words, it’s not an exaggeration to say that “delicious food creates world peace”...!

Right, this is no time to be messing around. I need to get in line before it gets too long.

<At the same time>

Yuzuru: Let’s see. I believe all the necessary purchases should be complete by now.

One, two, three… I bought this too, and that one just a moment ago. This one was sold out, so I shall have to come back at a later date.

… Hm, it appears all is in order. I don’t seem to have left any oversights.

Niki: I’m really looking forward to it~. Coming across new food is always so exciting. ♪

Yuzuru: Oh my, do I hear a familiar voice?

Ah, so it belongs to Shiina-sama. He seems to be at the end of a queue.

Season Avenue is always bustling. Hence it’s odd to see so many people lined up in a single queue.

They all seem to be queueing outside that stand. I wonder what exactly is being sold?

If Shiina-sama is lining up, it’s likely to be some type of food or drink.

… (Looking around)

… The people who’ve moved away from the stand all seem to have brightly-coloured sweets in their hands.

From their shape, I would guess they were donuts… No, perhaps churros?

Churros…? Come to think of it, I believe the Young Master mentioned those the other day…

Something about a speciality store selling cute churros on Season Avenue.

I see. He must’ve been referring to this stand.

……

Hm… He truly seemed to want to eat them, so perhaps I’ll buy them as a gift for the Young Master.

I wouldn’t usually let him eat this kind of thing, but…

Recently, he seems to be putting more and more effort into both his studies and work. Why not spoil him once in a while…♪

Shiina-sama.

Niki: Huh? Fushimi-kun?

How strange seeing you here~? Did you also come to try the churros? 

Yuzuru: I believe they would be a good gift for the Young Master. Would you mind if I accompanied you?

Niki: That’s fine by me~, let’s get these trending churros together! A journey is most fun with a companion after all²…♪

Yuzuru: It’s not a journey, we’re merely waiting together in line.

Niki: Nope nope. This line is the “Food Road”! In other words, it’s kind of like the Silk Road³, isn’t it?

Yuzuru: Well, um. Are you trying to compare this long queue to a road?

Niki: Yup! 

Yuzuru: sighs. Since the “Silk Road” isn’t about food, but rather silk, I feel like it’s a bit of a strange analogy in the first place. 

Niki: It’s instinct, Fushimi-kun. I thought I should express it to you in some way or another. Anyway, I don’t really care as long as we can get these churros. 

Yuzuru: Please stop talking based solely on reflex⁴. 

I don’t often find myself surrounded by your type, Shiina-sama. If I had to say, Hibiki-sama comes the closest.

Niki: Really?　

I don’t keep any company that’s like Fushimi-kun~. I only have irresponsible and weird people around me.

Oh well, thanks to that I can usually take it pretty easy, so that’s a plus.

Yuzuru: By the way, Shiina-sama. It seems that most people here are eating their churros as they leave, so do you know if I could order them to go? 

Since they’re not for me to eat and are instead a gift for the Young Master, I’d like to get them for takeout if possible. 

Niki: Hmm~? Is that so? I was also planning on eating while walking around here.

Truthfully, this kind of food is usually eaten on the spot or while walking, so I’m not sure if they’d be alright to take home.

Ah, Fushimi-kun. Take a look at that guy over there!

Yuzuru: Sure.

Niki: It looks like he only just bought some churros.

They’re wrapped in a paper bag from the stand too! I bet that means you can get them to go–

Man: Uwahh!?

Niki: Eh, what happened!? A fight!?

That guy was shoved over and knocked down by another man in black!?

Man: My bag! Wait, get back here! Bag thief!

Niki and Yuzuru: A bag thief!?

-----

¹ Hashimaki is Okonomiyaki wrapped around chopsticks

² Japanese proverb which means something alone the lines of “no road is long with good company”

³ The Silk Road was a series of trade routes connecting Europe and Asia spanning over 6,400km (4,000 mi) named for its primary use of trading silk. Niki is trying to liken the queue that they’re standing in to a long road where food will be traded at the end.

⁴The literal translation of what Yuzuru says is for Niki to stop talking based on “spinal reflexes”. These reflexes being involuntary and based on instinct without input from the brain. It’s effectively the same phrase as “knee-jerk reaction” in English.

[aperrywilliams]

Pandora's Box II (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

(Not my gif. Credits to the creator!)

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Author Masterlist / Author Taglist / Part I

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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader doesn't know what to think after the kiss between Spencer and Cat. Insecurities about their marriage surface in both Reader and Spencer. How severe will the consequences of what Cat did be?

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: Most of Spencer's traumas are only mentioned (Hankel, Dilaudid, Diana's illness, etc.). Angst and a lot of inner thoughts (I mean it: a lot). But not despair, my friends, happy ending.

A/N: Hello! Here is part two of Pandora's Box. Thanks a lot for all your comments, likes, and reblogs on part I.

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Spencer's POV

Cat did it again. No. Scratch that. I did it again.

I'm still seeing her eyes full of betrayal. God, how did I let this happen? How I was not able to think of something else to do. I'm so stupid!

I thought about running after her to stop her and convince her to go home with me. But I know (Y/N), and it would have been worse to insist when it was clear that she was shocked and hurt.

That leads me to now be in our shared bed, staring at the ceiling as I sink into my own mortification. Emily and JJ called me several times during the night, but I didn't feel like talking to anyone. I just texted them that (Y/N) was fine, but I screwed it up, and she hated me now. I don't know why I thought that would stop the calls. It was the opposite, but I decided to ignore my phone from there. I knew that (Y/N) would not call or text me either. Besides her getting rid of her cell phone, I was the last person she wanted to talk to.

How do I fix this?

The more I thought about it, the more complicated it became. We were not only talking about me kissing Cat Adams. It was more than that. And even if (Y/N) didn't go further saying how bad she was feeling, she slipped a hint. And it hurt. It hurt to know I was hurting her. Maybe Cat was right. I was not made to have a normal life and be loved like that. Perhaps I didn't deserve her.

Spencer, stop it! Don't fall into Cat's game. She wanted this to happen. She wanted to ruin your marriage, I repeated myself.

The funny thing is maybe I ruined it first.

Tossing and turning, I couldn't find a way to fall asleep. That brought me to the months I spent in jail when I barely slept an hour in a row. Endless nights were I missed (Y/N) 's body next to me. Nights where I swore to myself that if I made it out of there, I wouldn't waste another minute without making her my wife. So I did it. The very day I was released from Milburn, I got down on one knee and proposed to her. No ring involved, just a promise to spend the rest of my life with her, loving her and raising a family.

Two years since that, and now I think about the things I promised and what I have fulfilled. I feel terrible realizing that I have failed her.

Tiredness got me at some point, but my brain didn't stop working. I dream about (Y/N). It was a sweet dream that turned into a nightmare when she told me it was over. That ours was over.

I woke up sweating and screaming. 

I couldn't let that happen. I wouldn't let my incompetence makes me lose the best thing that had happened to me in life.

After showering and getting dressed early in the morning, I went to our habitual coffee shop and bought her favorite coffee and donut. I stopped by her dad's and left a bag with the treats and a note. A tiny gesture compared to the mess I had made, but I needed to tell her I was there even if she didn't want to see me.

-

Reader's POV

I couldn't sleep. I just couldn't.

After explaining the previous day's chaos to my dad - partially though, because I didn't want to give in to the embarrassing details - he let me stay in my old bedroom.

Every time I closed my eyes, I could see Spencer kissing that psycho over and over again.

I could see how his hands held her head, his eyes closed, lost in the sensation. Their lips moving in unison. His body pressed against hers.

Has he ever kissed me like that? Yes. He has. That is precisely the way I liked to be kissed.

When we started dating, Spencer was so shy at first, but he freed all the passion within him over time. I always wished to be the only one to see and feel him like that. And I really thought I would be the only one with that privilege. It seems I was wrong.

Why does it hurt so much? I mean, Spencer wouldn't do that to me, much less with that crazy bitch, right? I could bet he did not even want to do it.

Maybe it's the fact that there's a fucking Jiminy Cricket in my ear telling me things between Spencer and I aren't going well, and this shit is another proof that there will always be something interfering between us.

It terrifies me to think this could lead to the end of us, but I can't deny the idea has been on my mind for a while. It's true that we have never talked about it. It's true I have tried to deny that Spencer's absence affects me more than I let on. Has he noticed anyway? I'm afraid to know.

The next morning when I got to the kitchen, I saw my dad making coffee. Over the counter was a paper bag with my name written on it. It's Spencer's. I would recognize that handwriting anywhere.

"You don't have to open it," my dad told me, sensing the internal debate in my head. "I just brought it inside so you can decide if you want to do it or not."

It wasn't the only decision I needed to make, though.

Curiosity got the best of me. Inside the bag was my favorite coffee and donut. Of course Spencer knew it. Tucked in the coffee cup holder was a note.

'My love. Don't think this is me hoping that with just a coffee and a donut, you would forgive me. It is just a way to tell you I'm thinking of you. We have so much to talk about, but I won't push you to do it until you're ready. Please, only remember that I'm here, and I love you. Always yours, SR.'

Tears clouded my vision. I love him. That's not in discussion. But to be with someone is more than to feel love. It's about giving and receiving. It's about comprehending and being comprehended. It's partnership and complicity, things that have been away from us for a while. I will not blame Spencer for that because I have much to do with it. I should have said something. Is it too late now?

I took the lid off and sipped the coffee. I was thinking of him too.

-

Spencer's POV

Three days. The longest days of my life. Am I overstating? I don't think so. Because even if we had been apart for longer than three days, these circumstances made it worse.

The anxiety was killing me. Those days I went to work by inertia, unable to concentrate or be useful in any way. It was hard not to go over the last few months in my head. The signs, the unsaid things. The looks of disappointment when at any moment, the phone rang, and I had to leave.

Prentiss caught me deep in thought that afternoon.

"You okay?"

"Uh - yeah. I just got distracted. Sorry," I apologized. Emily shook her head and sat beside me.

"We both know it is more than that. Do you want to talk about it?"

I sighed, leaning back in the chair. I had the question on the tip of my tongue.

"Do you think fifteen years is a long time?"

Emily raised an eyebrow, trying to decipher the question's implication, but I knew she understood why I was asking.

"Well, I guess it depends on what you compare to," she ventured with a reassuring smile.

"I mean, doing this job. I had spent my whole adult life in the BAU. And don't get me wrong, I love my job-" I trailed off.

"But?"

"I love (Y/N) too, and I'm not good enough conciliating this job with my marriage. I can't make it work as JJ does," I confessed.

"If it is the case, having some time off should work to return some balance, but something tells me it's not the biggest problem," Emily asserted. Of course she did. She knew me better: it was more than the lack of time.

I chuckled bitterly.

"We have been only married for two years, and I feel I have failed her too much already. I mean, I was the one who said I needed to slow down after everything that had happened in Milburn. (Y/N) has been by my side in so many hard times. She was the first one I told about my addiction. She was there after the Anthrax episode. She took care of me when I got shot in Texas. I ran to her when they told me about my mom's Alzheimer's. Then jail happened. What else would she have to put up with? JJ's confession and being kidnapped by a cult. And now Cat again? Fuck, she saw me kissing her! The same woman who framed me for murder. How twisted is it?"

"She loves you too much," Emily pointed, trying to get me out of my rabbit hole.

"And I love her, but I always find a way to show otherwise, uh?" I mocked myself. I really felt like I was screwing up over and over.

"Spencer, none of those things have been your fault."

And maybe Prentiss was right. That didn't exempt me from my blindness, though.

"But it's been enough to have done something about it. Emily, I couldn't bear to lose her."

I could feel the lump forming in my throat.

"Spencer, she knows you love her. She married you for who you are. You just told me she has been with you in the toughest moments. You won't lose her."

How can she be so sure? I knew things never last long. I have seen people leaving me before.

"You know? It breaks my heart when I have to leave every time. (Y/N) always says she understands my job and never has demanded something from me. Still, I know she worries as hell every time I'm in the field, and I know there have been moments when she needed me, and I couldn't be there for her. I'm her husband! I promised to be there for her! Having more time could help, yeah, but I'm tired of this rhythm. I'm tired of being on the tightrope. I'm tired of the Tobias Hankels, the Cat Adams, the Mr. Scratchs-"

I had to stop my rant because I got out of breath.

"Well, if this is the matter, I think fifteen years is a long time then," Emily told me with a knowing look, patting my shoulder.

As a cue, my phone got a text: 'Are you in town? Can we talk?'

-

Reader's POV

Not two minutes had passed since I sent the text, and Spencer had answered, asking me when and where we would meet.

I figured it would be a complicated conversation, so I suggested it be in our apartment after work that day.

It's not like I wanted to torture Spencer for three days before to talk to him, but the events with Cat triggered a series of thoughts I didn't want to admit before. And the truth is, I wasn't sure how to deal with this. In fact, standing in front of the door and about to open it, I'm still not entirely sure what to say, just sure we can't keep putting this conversation off.

"Hi," Spencer said when he saw me. He was still in his work attire; only the tie was missing.

I returned a tight-lipped smile, stepping into the apartment.

I turned after closing the door, and Spencer just stood there, fidgeting with his hands. He was nervous, and so did I.

"Coffee?" He offered. I shook my head.

"No, thank you."

"O-okay," he mumbled, moving to the living room and gesturing to the couch for us to sit on.

Now we were both seated, maintaining a safer distance between us. Someone needed to break the silence. Spencer cleared his throat before speaking.

"About the kiss, (Y/N), I'm so sorry-" I cut him off.

"Spencer, not that yet. You need to start telling me what happened. It still confuses me how we ended in your old apartment with Cat Adams there."

Spencer nodded and recalled the events of that day: since the moment Penelope called him when we were at the coffee shop to him and Cat at the threshold, kissing.

After hearing the whole story, I couldn't understand how someone could set up something so elaborate to annoy someone else. Well, I don't know why I should be surprised; we were talking about Cat Adams, after all.

"Okay. So you thought a family and I were in danger. And she demanded a kiss. And you thought that would help," I filled. Spencer sighed, looking at his hands on his lap.

"Honestly? I didn't think anything. I felt trapped and knew I had no leverage on her. The opposite, actually. She was in control. I let her have me at her mercy," he confessed.

Spencer at Cat's mercy. Well, it wasn't the first time.

"You didn't seem troubled kissing her," I said bitterly. "I know it sounds childish, but you haven't kissed me like that in what? Months? It felt like I was nothing in your life, Spencer. It was like I didn't even exist and was watching a movie."

My voice cracked a bit while saying those words. Even imagining that I might not exist to Spencer made my stomach churn. It was worse to think I had already been losing him for a while or that perhaps he was never mine.

"(Y/N), that's not true. I -" Spencer tried to rebut quickly. I could feel the guilt in him.

"Spencer, it's okay. I can understand you were under pressure. But it was the way I felt. What would you think if your wife made out with the person who made her life a living hell for a long time?" It was a rhetorical question, though, because I would never do that to him.

"I know. And you might not believe me, but I was thinking of you. You were in my mind at that moment. Cat told me to do it as if she were you," he acknowledged. That didn't make me feel better. I let him know that.

"And you complied. That's the thing, Spencer. It's not the kiss itself; it's the fact you did what she told you. Again."

Spencer averted his gaze from me. He was embarrassed, and I hated being responsible for doing that, but he needed to know. I was done keeping things to myself.

"That makes me realize you're still caught up in her twisted game. Cat will never stop tormenting you, and I don't know what else I can do to help you. And it hurts me because I feel I'm not enough, Spencer. I'm not enough to really be by your side and be who you need."

Treacherous tears began to run down my cheeks. That was the admission I didn't want to reveal. After all these years, I thought, at some point, I could be in tune with Spencer's life. That's why I never said anything. I yet harbored the hope of living up to his expectations all this time.

"Don't say that! It's not true!" He argued, scooting closer to me on the couch, no longer afraid of proximity. "You are everything and more that I have ever needed and wanted. God. I love you, (Y/N). If anything, it's me who feels not worthy of your love. And I'm sorry, you are the most important person in my life, and I haven't shown you that."

"Then why do I feel then we are falling apart, Spencer? It's me imagining things?"

Spencer shook his head, a tentative hand reaching mine. I doubted for a second, but I welcomed his touch.

"It's my fault you're feeling this way. Believe me; you didn't do anything wrong."

His fingers stroking my hand resembled the way his touch always comforted me. In other circumstances, I would have believed nothing had changed between us.

"Are you sure? It's like we're becoming a couple of strangers. And I cannot understand if something about me bothers you or if I am simply indifferent to you. You don't trust me the way you used to."

I retracted my hand to protect myself from the pain it would surely follow when Spencer acknowledged I wasn't the person he wanted anymore.

"I know I have been pushing you away, but it's not because I didn't trust you. It's just I have been putting so many of my problems over your shoulders that I didn't want to overwhelm you. I'm sorry for not being honest with you," Spencer said, maintaining eye contact as if he wanted to imprint his apology on me. My lips quivered, and I was doing everything to not cry.

"Spencer, I'm your wife. It is supposed we lean into each other!" I complained. How was it possible he still did not understand he is not a damaged good and deserves understanding and support.

"And you always have been there for me. But what has happened the times that you have needed me? I am away most of the time, which is unfair to you. I'm your husband, and I should have been here."

His voice broke at the end. And it hurt me because that has happened more than once, but I decided not to say anything before.

"Spencer, I knew your job when we married," I reminded him. It was the truth. I knew what I had signed for. Spencer shook his head nevertheless, blinking back tears.

"That doesn't mean I don't do anything about it. I just let it pass. And it was wrong. You were uncomfortable enough to tell me you were worried or disappointed because of my job." 

I looked away as I listened to Spencer describe my behavior over the past few months. It was hard to admit that I feared what it would mean to us if we discussed it. It seemed childish, perhaps, but like a scared child, I didn't want to feel vulnerable, saying it affected me.

"But it's what you do. It's your life. You chose to be a profiler, and you save people every day."

That was far more important, wasn't it?

"But I chose you too. And you are part of my life too." Now he had hunched before me, gently placing his hands on my knees. "Do you remember what I told you when I proposed?" He asked, smiling fondly.

Of course I remembered. After living apart for three months because Spencer was in jail, the moment of our reunion was one of the most emotional things I have experienced.

"Besides telling me you loved and wanted to marry me?" I replied - a blush creeping my face at the memory.

"Yeah, that too. I told you I wanted everything with you. I told you I didn't want to spend another minute without you. You make me whole and feel alive (Y/N). That's far more important than catching monsters and consuming my life for them."

Grabbing one of my hands, he brought it to his lips, planting a loving kiss. His gaze never left mine, and I could feel like my heart skipped a bit.

"What do you mean?" I asked in a whisper. He returned a smile, tucking a hair strand behind my ear.

"That I'm done. Fifteen years is more than enough, and if this job continues cracking the good things in my life, I don't want it."

I wondered if I was listening wrong or if my mind was playing tricks on me. I needed clarification.

"What? Are you saying-" Spencer cut me off, nodding his head.

"There are so many things we dreamed of doing together. Do you recall our plan to stay a whole winter in a cabin in the woods? Or the trip to Greece? The idea of moving to the suburbs?"

"Do you still remember all that?" I asked in disbelief. That seemed a lifetime ago. We had so many plans and ideas, but I thought this would only form part of an unfulfilled desire, of our youthful and innocent desire to achieve something different from what we were used to. I often felt those plans were a way of escaping from our daily life full of pain, ghosts, and fears.

"Of course I do! And it's not because I have an eidetic memory. If I didn't, I would remember it anyway because I still want those things. With you."

Stroking my cheek with his palm, Spencer looked at me intensely as he didn't want to miss any of my microexpressions. I felt bare before him, but it didn't feel odd or wrong. If anything, it felt like he was seeing into my heart and soul. I have missed that.

"Spencer, you don't have to. You are a profiler, and you save lives. Your life has been the BAU," I reminded him. I didn't want him to be doing this just because we were in a rough patch and for it to be something he would regret for the rest of his life.

"It has been, but I don't want it to continue to be. It's a job (Y/N). One that has given me a lot of satisfaction but also a lot of pain and has consumed me. I want that to change. I want us to be able to make plans and stick to them. I want that family we talk about so much. Sure, if it's something you still want," he pointed out carefully. My eyes widened.

"You say, kids?" Spencer nodded eagerly.

"Yes. Kids. Little you's and me's running around in our new house. Whom I want to rock to make them sleep, who I want to teach them things, take them to the park, and play with them," Spencer enthusiastically described. It had been a long time since I had seen him that way. I couldn't stop my lips from forming a smile. "Do you still want that?" His excitement changed to the expectation to know my answer.

"Yes, I do," I acknowledged, my eyes filling with tears at the thought that this could be a reality one day. Spencer beamed.

"Then let's have the rest of our lives like we want them to be," he offered. It was like we were saying our vows, like the day we married.

"Are you sure? Spencer, I don't want you to feel like you have-" Before I could say anything else, Spencer gently placed a finger over my lips.

"Hey. It's been a long time since I was so sure about anything. Baby, I love you. I want us, always. Will you accept this fool man, who is madly in love with you, as your husband again?"

His eyes were full of hope, illuminated by the glow of the lighted lamp in the living room. The man hunched before me was the love of my life. The man I chose to spend the rest of my days with. I could feel the sincerity in his gaze, the transparency of the shared longing that made me fall for him years ago.

"I do," I whispered, leaning down and tenderly cupping his cheeks. "May I kiss the husband?" Spencer chuckled, nodding and leaning forward until our lips met in a passionate kiss. Spencer's hands moved up to hold the back of my head as my arms flew to the back of his neck - our lips molding like they were meant to be. The time stopped, and nothing else mattered. I was there with him, and he was there with me.

That kiss sealed our complicity and love's declaration. A kiss that Cat Adams would never have the privilege of experiencing despite the many Pandora's boxes she tried to open.

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

Spencer Reid’s Taglist (some of them don't work): @dreatine​ @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @tvandfanfic​ @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19  @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @thebloomingeagle @pauline5525mgg @maltamurdock @disaster-in-waiting @pebble-has-a-mirgraine @anamiad00msday @chlochlosworld @milivanili99 @laylasbunbunny @miaxx03 @leahblackk @missabsey

Pandora's Box Taglist (some of them don't work): @isisjen @marimorena06 @starlightskiss @wittlewowa @ladyofhellhounds @blogs-imagines-fanctionstories @logibearhockey1 @flowersownme @callsignwidow @regulus-black-223048 @l0v3e1i @lovejules888

[cuddletime-blog]

Valentine's Day Letters from MC to LBC Male Leads

Dear Ayn,

“Donut” you want to be my Valentine? It doesn’t matter who brings the donuts today, let’s enjoy them together. Perhaps you would like to play some Mario Kart with me or play a demo for me at the secret base? I’d like to hear one of your new songs. Thanks for keeping me company so I never get bored when I’m with you and for bringing out my competitive side when it comes to video games.

            Sincerely,

MC

Dear Clarence,

Happy Valentine’s Day! Thank you for being so thoughtful and helpful with my everyday school life, Mr. Student Council President. You’re a good student, a student leader, and an athlete…an all-arounder. It’s Valentine’s Day so let’s meet. Maybe we can practice Dojang on the training mat and we’ll see if you can throw me down like one of your Dojang moves. Or I’m sure we’ll find something else to do.

            Sincerely,

            MC

Dear Lars,

Happy Valentine’s Day! Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to make time for me. Well today should be one of the days you could take some time to have a break after work and unwind. You always have the greatest ideas for how to have fun. Thanks for opening my eyes to new sights and experiences. You inspire me to grow up to be like someone just as ambitious, hard-working, and well-traveled. Last but not least, thank you for being a fan of my artworks and supporting me.

                        Sincerely,

                        MC

Dear Alkaid,

Happy Valentine’s Day! I hope you like chocolates. Thank you for remembering to bring me muffins or cakes so today, I’d like to show my appreciation for you in return. We can enjoy a quiet evening indoors or spend it wherever you like tonight. It can even be somewhere away from the city and the crowds. Life seems so much more relaxing or peaceful when I’m with you. I hope we can continue to enjoy many more times together just like that. Each day doesn’t have to be special, but it’s special to me because we can enjoy it together.

            Sincerely,

            MC

Dear Cael,

I’m not sure what you think of Valentine’s Day, but maybe you would like to celebrate it with me anyway. Take me to Greece, take me to Florence, take me to France, take me to Rome or take me home, (take me to see your underpants. Just kidding. I couldn’t help myself from rhyming France with underpants, but if there’s anyone that would tolerate my childishness or silliness sometimes, I hope that someone is you.) Just take me to…wherever you are. Even though we’re apart for now, I hope you are doing well and I hope you remember that I’m thinking of you too.

            Sincerely,

            MC

[lazypanartist]

Transformers favs comforting a distraught reader

Because eim crying over a donut!

Includes Knockout, Breakdown, Ratchet, Smokescreen

Can be seen as romantic or platonic

-----

Knockout

He seems like he has some semblance of empathy

Will be rlly confused abt why you're crying

Pats your back lightly and asks what's wrong

You look up, face streaked with tears, lips wobbling

"One of my parents stole my donut!"

Poor bot almost reboots w/ confusion

"All this crying over a piece of food?"

When you nod, he just chuckles.

"Calm down now, beautiful. We can get you another one when we go ground side, 'mkay? Just.. don't eat it until we get back."

---

Breakdown

Has NO idea how to react when he sees you crying

Himbo

"Little one? What's wrong?"

Hopes it's a problem he can beat into the ground."

When you give him that look though, he almost starts crying too

Why his baby so distraught??

"Someone in my family ate my donut before I could!"

He paused, thinking for a minute

If they are it.. it's sustinence. Like the sweets they like..

"I uh.. think we can get more? Do you need me to get you another one? Or do you just need to.. please don't cry, little one!"

---

Ratchet

Sees you crying and mentally steels himself

He's used to hearing about, say, hard days at work, Vince trying to bully the Trouble Trio, Decepticons, and various other disasters

He's all hyped up to give a nice lil peep talk

"Are you all right, (Y/n)? What's wrong?"

You give him a teary look

"My little brother stole my donut!"

He shutters his optics once, twice

"I'm sorry?"

Wiping tears you sniffle

"I'm not *that* mad about the donut, but there's been some other stuff.. it's just the last straw."

Finally, something he can start working with

"Would you like to talk about the underlying issues? Perhaps over a donut? Fowler's coming in just a little bit."

---

Smokescreen

Sees you crying and immediately comes to your side

"Hey, sweetspark! What's wrong? Do you need anything?"

You shake your head, grabbing his servo in your hand

"Just.. upset. My mom stole my donut this morning.. I bought it for myself."

He shakes his head

"That's terrible!"

You nod, dabbing at tears with your sleeve

"Yeah.. can't believe that woman.."

"I have to know, though.. what's a donut?"

Offers to let you vent to him while you two go out for breakfast

[writingwhimsey]

Married to The Enemy- Shingen Ch. 31

Chapter 31

I woke up the next morning to the sound of my alarm on my phone. I let out a groan as I turned it off. I don’t think I had gotten much sleep at all. But now that I had a new day, that meant I could see my love soon.

I climbed out of bed and went into the bathroom. I splashed some water on my face to help wake up before heading into the kitchen. I dug through the cabinets, happy to find some coffee. I brewed the coffee and poured myself a cup. Just the smell was already starting to perk me up a bit.

“Oooh, coffee, how I have missed you.” I spoke to my cup before taking a drink, feeling that first sip in my soul. “When we get back to the Sengoku, I’m going to have to talk to Sasuke and see if we can find a way to get the importing process of coffee started earlier.”

I drank my coffee, finishing off the entire pot before finishing getting ready. I didn’t have the choice but to get back into my kimono. I grabbed the purse Sasuke and his professor had prepared for me and pulled out the prepaid bank card. There was a number on the back to call and check the balance.

I called the number and went through the automated prompts. My eyes were practically bulging out of my head when I heard the number. That was WAY too much. There was NO WAY I was spending all of that. I made the plan to just buy a few basic pieces for myself and Shingen. Who knew how long we would be here? Depending on how things went, perhaps I would find a small office job like I once had before. That way I wouldn’t have to rely on this money.

“Alright, time to go shopping.” I told myself once I had finished getting ready. I headed out on the town, hitting a few clothing stores and just buying myself the basics. Simple pieces that could be used to make multiple outfits so long as you mixed and matched. Also with it being summer I did pick up a couple of sundresses. I went ahead and picked up a few things for Shingen as well. Though I didn’t know how long we would have in the modern day…I had to admit I was looking forward to when he got out of the hospital and getting to dress him up in various modern styles.

Once I had finished my shopping I returned to the apartment to put away the clothes and change. I decided to put on one of the sundresses. It was a simple and cute dress with spaghetti straps and came down to just above my knee. White flowers patterned the dress and the skirt was so flowy and breezy.

I couldn’t help but to smile as I thought about Shingen seeing me in modern clothes for the first time. Since we’d arrived he’d only seen the doctors and nurses, so he hadn’t really seen the full array of clothing that was worn now. 

I grabbed my phone and looked up the nearest breakfast places and what they had to offer. “Hmm…donuts should be a good first sweet treat breakfast for Shingen to try.” I muttered to myself.

I left the apartment and headed to the restaurant and ordered the donuts to go. By the time I had finished, it was finally visiting hours at the hospital once again. I couldn’t wait to see Shingen again. I hope he was able to sleep well last night. I thought as I walked the sidewalks to the hospital. I was so happy Sasuke and his professor had been able to set me up in an apartment so close. I’ll have to do something really nice for them.

Once at the hospital, I made my way to the floor Shingen was on and to his room. The door was slightly ajar so I pushed it open further to peak my head in. Shingen was sitting up in his bed looking a bit groggy as a nurse was checking his vitals and making sure his IV was all set.

Shingen’s sleepy eyes turned to me as I came in and a smile spread across his face, making my heart melt. “There’s my angel.” He said.

The nurse looked up. “Ah, you must be Mrs. Takahashi.” She greeted me.

Takahashi…oh right Shingen’s alias here! I thought to myself. I smiled. “Yes, I am the lucky woman.” I replied.

The nurse smiled. “You must be very special. Even in his sleep after I gave him some medicine he wouldn’t stop talking about you.” She said. “I’ll leave you two alone for a bit. You’ll be having more tests done today.”

The nurse then left and I was making my way over to Shingen’s bedside. “How are you feeling?” I asked him.

“Better now that you’re here.” He answered, his arms reaching for me and pulling me into the bed with him before I even had a chance to sit down in the chair.

I giggled. “Careful or you’ll make me squish our breakfast treats.” I said, holding up the box of donuts, though I was happy to be in his arms.

“I thought you were my treat.” Shingen replied, kissing my forehead. “Especially when you’re looking so cute.”

I felt my cheeks heating up, but I couldn’t deny that I was happy right where I was…or how much I enjoyed Shingen’s flirting. “Well this is a bonus then, I guess.” 

“So, what is it?” Shingen asked.

I smiled as I flipped open the box. “They’re called donuts. A deep-fried sweet dough covered in other various and delectable sweets.”

Shingen’s eyes widened as he looked at the donuts…I honestly thought I might see some sparkles in those gray eyes. “They all look so good…”

I had picked up a variety of donuts so that Shingen would have some options to try. “You really can’t go wrong with any of these. However THIS is my personal favorite.” I said, reaching into the box and pulling out a chocolate eclair donut. “This icing on top is chocolate…my absolute favorite sweet and the inside has a delicious sweet filling.”

“I don’t want to take it if it’s your favorite.” Shingen replied.

“That is why I got two of every flavor in this box.” I informed him with a proud smile.

Shingen grinned. “My goddess is brilliant and beautiful.” 

I held the donut to his lips. “Come on now, try it. I know you’re gonna love it.”

Shingen parted his lips and then bit into the donut. His face…he was like a little kid who had just been introduced to sweets for the first time. “That is delicious.” He said after swallowing the bite before going in for another. He was then reaching into the box and grabbing out the other eclair donut for me and holding it to my lips.

I smiled before taking a bite. I must have had stars in my eyes too…it had been SOOO LONG since I’d had a donut. I forgot just how much I loved them. “Mmm…” I hummed as I closed my eyes, smiling in contentment.

“Should I be jealous of this donut?” Shingen asked, a teasing smile on his face.

My eyes popped open and instantly my cheeks reddened. “No…it’s just been so long since I’ve had a donut.”

Shingen smiled and hugged me closer. “It is a rather tasty treat.”

I smiled as I nestled into his embrace. “While we’re here I’ll have to bring you all kinds of sweet treats to try. We have waffles and pancakes…those are also breakfast foods. Then there’s ice cream, slushies, cookies, all kinds of cakes, and a HUGE array of candy.”

“And when we go back we don’t say a word to Yuki.” Shingen replied.

I giggled and nodded. “Agreed. We’d never hear the end of it.”

We continued to enjoy the donuts together. “How did you sleep last night, my love?” Shingen asked me as we continued to cuddle up even after finishing the donuts. 

“Okay…once I got to sleep.” I replied. “I missed you.” There was no point in trying to lie or hide it.

Shingen couldn’t hide his smile. “I’m glad to know the feeling is mutual.”

“I set my alarm early so I could get up in time to get here as soon as visiting hours started.” I confessed.

“You’re so cute.” Shingen told me.

I felt my cheeks redden. “I just wanted to see you as soon as possible.”

“That makes me happy to hear.” He said. “I’m also happy to see this…new kimono you are wearing.” His fingers were trailing over my bare arms and exposed legs.

I felt myself warming under his touch. “It’s called a sundress.” I replied. “And I had hoped you would like it.”

“Very much.” Shingen replied. “Is this…normal attire for this time?”

I nodded. “Very much so. Especially for the hot summers.”

“I like it.” Shingen replied, his hands still roaming over me.

“You know, being like this is going to be when the doctor or a nurse walks in.” I told him. “We should behave ourselves.”

“I am behaving.” Shingen replied. “If I weren’t my hands would have already wandered under this… dress.”

I laughed and shook my head. I reached for his hands, bidding them to stay still. “You are here to get better.” I reminded him. “I don’t want them kicking you out before they cure you.”

Shingen chuckled. “Alright, I’ll behave myself.” He said, settling his hands in more appropriate places. “But once I am cured and out of here, I don’t have to, right?”

“You’re shameless…but it’s one of the many things I love about you.”

“That wasn’t a no.”

I giggled again. “As long as the doctor releases you and says you have made a complete recovery, then no, you won’t have to.”

“Well, now I have even more motivation to listen to what the doctor says.”

It was then as if on cue, there was a knock on the door and the doctor was coming in. “Good morning, Mr. Takahashi….Mrs. Takahashi, I see you arrived as soon as visiting hours started.”

I felt my cheeks flushing. “Yes…”

The doctor gave us a smile. “It’s good to see Mr. Takahashi has such a loving and supportive wife. Patients always do better when they have a strong support.” He said.

“My angel is truly my greatest blessing.” Shingen said, causing me to turn redder.

“Well, today we will be running some more tests on you. I want to get a chest X-ray, a CT scan, and an MRI.” The doctor said. He then rattled off a few more tests that he would be conducting as well. “Mrs. Takahashi, if there are any errands you need to run, you might want to do that while we are conducting these tests.”

“I…I can’t just wait here?” I asked.

“You can, but it is going to be an all day thing.” The doctor said. “We have your contact information should we need to get a hold of you. Though we should be finished by dinner time.”

“I’ll be alright, Ava.” Shingen assured me. 

“I’ll be sending someone in to start the tests in about fifteen minutes.” The doctor said.

Shingen and I nodded as the doctor walked out the door. “Are you sure you’ll be okay?” I asked.

Shingen smiled. “Isn’t this the best place for me to be?” He asked.

“Okay, that’s fair.” I replied.

“Is there something you need to do?” Shingen asked.

I nodded. “Yeah. My Oba-san…I need to see her.”

“Then you should go.” Shingen told me. “I will be fine here.”

I nodded. “Alright, but I am staying here till they come get you for the tests.”

Shingen chuckled as he hugged me tighter. “I can accept that.” He said, pecking me lightly on the lips. “You were close with your grandmother?”

I nodded. “For a time after my father left, my mother and I lived with her.” I explained. “She can be a bit…eccentric, but she is a lovely woman.”

“What makes you say eccentric?” He asked.

I pursed my lips in thought. “It can be a bit hard to explain. But…for example when my mom disappeared, she said she knew she was okay and that she’d found some place she was happy.”

“How did she know this?” Shingen asked.

I shrugged. “Not sure. She claimed she could just feel it that my mom was fine.”

“And you didn’t agree?” Shingen asked.

“No.” I answered. “But I’ve come to realize that maybe it was just her way of coping with the loss of her daughter, especially in such an odd way.”

“I can understand that.” Shingen replied.

It was a few minutes later, a couple of orderlies were coming into take Shingen for his tests. We shared another hug and kiss before I was climbing out of the bed and they were wheeling him out the door. Hopefully soon we would find out what was going on with Shingen…and hopefully I would be able to have a good talk with my grandmother.

Taglist: @limonzu @zulablaise @oda-princess @kisara-16 @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @lucyw260 @selenacosmic

[dragonfries12]

Y’all ate up my last Regretevator posts, so here’s some more!

Party Beetle Fanfic (Title Pending) - Part 1

Blue text is italics, red text is Folly being creepy (bold), pink text is dreams/flashbacks.

Pest leaned against the wall of the regretevator with his arms folded. Across from him, a white-plated robot was fiddling with some piece of technology foreign to him. Music was playing quietly, backed by the hum of the elevator as it traversed the infinite expanse of floors. Pest wasn’t headed anywhere in particular. On days when he had nothing to do he’d see where the regretevator took him and go from there. Today was one of those days.

Ding! Pest turned his head as the elevator doors slid open to reveal the very subway he’d come from only a half an hour before. Tunes from the nearby jukebox wafted into the elevator for a moment before being interrupted by the distinct sound of a party horn. God damn it. As expected, the noise was soon followed by the appearance of a fluffy-haired robloxian in a party hat.

“Poob!” The robot exclaimed as they entered the elevator.

“Hi Prototype!” They replied, walking over the far corner next to Pest’s, “Happy National Cheese Day!”

“National Cheese Day? That’s today?”

“Mhm!” Poob nodded their head eagerly, “I’d offer you some to celebrate, but I guess you can’t eat, can you? You can though!” Pest winced as Poob turned to him and offered up a tupperware full of various cheeses. “Want some?”

“I’ll pass,” Pest hissed.

“Alright!” Poob placed the cheese back in their sticker-covered bag, unfazed.

“I didn’t even know there was a national cheese day,” Prototype said, “and I have a database for basically everything!”

“There’s national days for pretty much everything,” Poob replied, “Tomorrow is national donut day. I need to go buy some today, then I’m meeting Infected for his anniversary of getting his apartment!”

“Oh wow! How do you remember all these dates?”

“I try my best for my friends. Also I have three calendars.” Poob turned to face Pest once again, “Speaking of anniversaries, it’s our meetiversary tomorrow!”

Pest scowled, “Our what?”

“Our meetiversary!” They shouted, “The anniversary of when we first met, silly! Remember when you-”

They were cut off as the elevator slammed to a halt with a loud crash. Red light bled in as the doors slid open and Pest cursed under his breath.

“Hello.” The voice slithered into the elevator as the entrance was blotted out by an enormous shadow. The dream parasite, Pest thought with disgust. The figure — Folly — gripped the edges of the doorway as she pushed herself into the elevator, black fog trailing behind her. She took her place in the remaining corner of the elevator, claws folded neatly behind her back, and surveyed the now silent group with a glowing, red eye. Her gaze bore into Pest as it passed over him and he held it in defiance. You don’t scare me, parasite.

“U-um, happy National Cheese Day!” Poob stuttered, “Do you want some cheese?” Folly’s eye slid over to them, then down to the platter of cheese.

She chuckled, “A National Day for a simple food? How charming. I’m afraid I don’t consume things the same way you do, though.”

“Oh, okay then. . .” Poob replaced the cheese in their bag, avoiding Folly’s burning gaze. The elevator dinged once more as the doors opened to a mansion of cardboard. “I think this is my stop,” Poob said quickly as they started towards the doors.

“I thought you were going to the infected one’s apartment?” Folly asked with mock confusion.

Poob stopped and looked back with concern, “Um, how’d you know that?”

“You dreamt about it last night.”

“I don’t really like when you do that. . .” Poob mumbled as they shrank back into their corner.

“How else am I to get answers?” Folly inquired. “Of course,” she took a step forward, “you could always provide them verbally. Or perhaps,” she took another step, towering over Poob, “I could pry them out myself.”

Pest shifted a step to the right, placing himself in Folly’s peripheral. Instantly, her gaze sliced through the air and stabbed into him, sending a shiver down his spine. Though she had no visible mouth, he could see a grin in her eye.

“However, I’ll refrain,” she said as she stepped back into her corner. Pest slid back into his own corner, ignoring the glances Poob was casting at him. A suffocating silence settled over the elevator for a moment until Prototype finally broke it.

“If you like learning things,” they offered tentatively, “my friend sells floppy disks with all kinds of information.”

Folly turned towards the robot with an unnaturally casual demeanor, as though Poob wasn’t still shaking across from her, “Ah yes, the computer. I’ve perused her wares, but I much prefer books.”

“Oh really? Why’s that? I’ve heard some people like the smell. . .” Pest tuned out the rest of their conversation, instead turning his focus to Poob.

“Why’s she so obsessed with you?”

“Oh um,” they sputtered, “I dunno. . .maybe all my parties and stuff are really attention grabbing?”

“Hm,” he hummed and turned away. Pest knew there had to be more to it than that, but if Poob really was hiding something, they weren’t going to reveal it.

Folly and Prototype’s conversation continued for a few more floors until the doors opened to what appeared to be a volcanic island.

“Well,” Folly spoke, “this is my stop. So nice chatting with you all,” she paused, halfway out the door, and her slitted, yellow pupil landed on Pest, “See you soon.” The doors shut just as she poofed into a swirl of dark fog, though her laughter echoed in the elevator for a few moments after. Great, Pest thought sarcastically. Folly’s last statement had been more than a goodbye; it was a promise.

* * *

Pest opened his eyes to an inky abyss. He’s known since Folly left the elevator that he wouldn’t be getting a good sleep that night, though the void still unnerved him. Sure enough, he was greeted by a familiar voice, echoing from behind him.

“Hello, bug.”

“What do you want?” He spat.

“I think you already know,” Folly teased.

“I’ve already told you, I don’t know any more about them than you do, so leave me alone.”

“Oh, but you could know things, if you wanted to. They trust you.”

A low hiss escaped between Pest’s gritted teeth as he turned to face the giant, red eye he knew was floating behind him, “Yeah, well, I don’t want to, so piss off!”

Folly’s disembodied voice chuckled, “Is that so? You seemed so worried about them today. . .”

Pest’s anger rose, as did his voice, “I could care less if Poob keeled over tomorrow, but I’ll be damned if I let you be the one to do it. What were you even doing in the elevator? I know you can just appear wherever you want.”

“Don’t you like to people-watch sometimes?”

Pest’s anger gave way to exhaustion, “Fine. Whatever. Go make everyone uncomfortable. But I don’t have any information, so you can go invade someone else’s privacy.”

“Don’t be so sure, bug.”

Pest’s ears began to ring and he lunged towards the eye, “Don’t you-” the ground disappeared beneath him and he was suddenly falling deeper and deeper into the abyss.

Pest carefully gripped the windowsill as he slipped into the dark house. It wasn’t often he robbed a house — he much preferred pickpocketing — but he needed more regretevator tickets and this was the best way to find them in bulk. Gently sliding the window shut, he crept into the house’s living room and began rummaging through drawers.

Without warning, the room suddenly exploded with blaring music as Pest stumbled over a stereo.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, sh-”

“Hello?”

Pest slowly turned to see a bleary eyed person in starry, purple pajamas staring at him in confusion.

His heart sank as tried to stutter out an excuse, “Th-this isn’t what it looks like!”

“Really?” The person accused, “because to me, this looks exactly like you’re throwing me a surprise party!”

All of Pest’s panic was instantly replaced with confusion, “What?”

“Don’t play dumb!” They scolded, wagging a finger, “I know a party when I see one! Oh, I guess I just spoiled the surprise part though. That’s okay, now I can help set it up! I’m Party Noob by the way, but you can call me Poob! I guess you must already know that, actually, if you’re throwing me a party.”

Pest slowly shook Poob’s hand, still dumbfounded, “I’m. . .Pest. . .”

“Nice to meet you Pest! You want something to drink? What’s your favourite? I probably have it.”

“Uhhh, tree sap?”

“Oh, okay, gimme one minute!” Pest watched them rush away through the house as he stood in the middle of the room, still in shock. How did I get away with that? He thought incredulously. After a moment, he began to wander the room, taking in the unique decor. On one wall, an absurd amount of pictures were hanging, each depicting Poob with different people. Are they friends with literally everyone?

“I’m back!” Poob shouted, “Here you go!” They held out a glass of thick liquid, which was also coating their hands. They actually got me tree sap? Pest took the glass and stared down at his reflection. He squinted at the image, there was something off about it — something red glowed behind him. Something that looked like eyes and sounded like vicious laughter.

Pest’s eyes flew open. He lay still on his stolen mattress, processing his surroundings. Slowly, he collected his thoughts and his anger began to boil once more.

“God damn parasite,” he muttered. He pulled himself out of bed and stared at his clock: 5:48am. The subway would still be empty at this hour. Grabbing a cigarette and a lighter and throwing on his hoodie, Pest slunk out of his home in a forgotten room of the subway and made his way towards the platform where the regretevator was located.

When he arrived, he slumped down on a bench and lit his cigarette. He took a slow, deep inhale, then watched the smoke swirl as he breathed it out. As much as he pretended it didn’t bother him, he missed being able to sleep without a dream demon invading his mind. Maybe one day she’ll run out of memories to sift through and she’ll finally leave me alone.

Crunch!

Pest whipped his head around, looking for the source of the sound. No one should be at this stop this early; there weren’t any trains until 7am. Just as he began to get up, an arm wrapped around his neck and pinned him against the bench. Panic ignited his nerves and he bit down on the arm as hard as he could. He heard a shout from behind him and turned to see his attacker, only to be met with a fist. Air rushed past his face as he flew back. His head slammed against the ground and pain exploded in his skull. The edges of his vision blurred as he watched a shadowy figure sprint away, Pest’s wallet in hand. The last thing he heard was the ding of the regretevator before slipping into darkness.

* * *

Pest awoke to a throbbing headache. He slowly peeled open his eyes and let them adjust to the dim light. Where the hell am I? He carefully rolled over and took in his surroundings. He was on a couch with a foldout table in front of it, surrounded by striped wallpaper. Poob’s house?! Pest pushed himself up too quickly and had to lean back for a moment to let the pounding in his head subside to a tolerable level. He put his hand to his head and felt a bandage on his forehead.

“Oh! You’re awake!”

Pest leaned forward — slowly, this time — to look at the person who had just entered the room, “Poob?”

“Oh good, no amnesia then.”

“Why- how did I get here?”

“Oh, um,” Poob set down the cup and plate he was carrying on the table, “I kind of. . . carried you.”

“What? Why didn’t you call Dr. Retro or something?”

“Oh. I didn’t really think of that. I saw you bleeding on the ground and panicked a bit. What happened?”

“Got mugged,” Pest hissed, turning his empty pockets inside-out.

“Oh. . .” There was a moment of heavy silence until Pest finally looked at what was on the table. There was a plate of buttered toast and a glass of water.

“That’s for you.”

“I gathered that,” Pest sneered. He picked up the glass and downed half of it, then took a bite of the toast. “What time is it?”

“3pm.”

Pest nearly choked, “3pm?!”

“You were unconscious for a really long time,” Poob laughed timidly, “I was starting to get a little worried.”

Pest swallowed the last of his toast and began to push himself up off the sofa, “Whatever, I’m going home.”

“Wait! Careful!” Poob’s warning came too late. Pest instantly became light-headed and stumbled on the Twister mat on the ground. Poob hooked their arms under his elbows as he fell back, guiding him back to the couch. “You should maybe rest for a bit.”

“Yeah,” Pest grunted through gritted teeth, waiting for his headache to become manageable.

“Maybe I should call Dr. Retro. . .”

“No, I’m fine,” Pest protested as Poob reached for a phone, “I just need a minute.” The last thing he needed was someone else knowing he had been found knocked out in the subway by Poob of all people.

“Okay. . . if you’re sure,” Poob said hesitantly, “but I’m still gonna get you some medicine.”

Pest listened to them rummage through cupboards while he leaned back with his eyes closed. Poob handed him two pills, which he swallowed with the rest of his water.

“Do you wanna watch a show or something?” Poob offered.

“Sure.”

“Okay. . .” Poob picked up the remote for the TV sitting across from them and slowly sat down on the opposite end of the couch, “What do you wanna watch?”

“I don’t care,” he said with exasperation. He hated that he was here, forced to sit on a couch with the most annoying person in the world. Even so, if Poob hadn’t been there, there was a good chance Pest would be dead. Whatever, I only have to be here until my headache goes away. I can tolerate them for that long.

The time began to slip away from him, however, as they sat watching episode after episode of a surprisingly good show. Pest only realised that the medication had long since kicked in when Poob pulled a pizza out of the oven for dinner. He thought about getting up to leave, but the smell of the pizza held him in place. No point in passing up free food.

“Here you go!” Poob said cheerfully, setting a plate of cheese pizza in front of him.

“Mmph,” Pest grunted through a mouthful of mozzarella. They watched another episode while they ate, then had sugar cookies for dessert. When he was finished, Pest was about to leave when something occurred to him. Poob had found him in the subway at 5am. What the hell were they doing at the subway that early? Pest turned to Poob and asked.

“Oh, um. . .” Poob twiddled their thumbs, “looking for you. . .”

“What? Why?”

“Today’s our meetiversary, remember?”

“No,” Pest grumbled, getting up from the couch, “Anyway, my head feels better. I’m leaving.”

“Wait!” Poob stood up, “Are you sure?”

Pest turned back in confusion, “Yes? I’m not collapsing, am I?”

“Maybe we should call Dr. Retro. You might have a concussion or something.”

“I’m sure I can make it home and call her just fine from there.”

“But wait, what if-”

“But what?” Pest snarled, “Why do you keep making excuses?”

Poob fidgeted with their hands for a moment, then said in a voice that was barely audible, “Because I don’t want you to leave. . .”

Pest stood there for a moment, taken aback. Then, he stomped toward Poob until he was close enough to grab them by the collar.

“Did you drag me all the way to your house for some playdate?” He spat.

“What? N-no!” Poob sputtered, “No! I really did wanna help! It’s just, now that you’re here. . .I really like spending time with you.”

Pest stared down at them with disgust, “Really? Every time I see you, all I do is ignore you and you want to hang out with me? What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I- I just-”

“You what?” Pest yanked Poob up until they were standing on their tiptoes, “Spit it out!”

“I like you!”

Pest loosened his grip, staring in shock, “What?”

Tears had begun to form at the corners of Poob’s eyes as they looked away nervously, “I like you. A lot.”

All ability to speak abandoned Pest. Poob chanced a glance back at him and he could do nothing but meet their gaze. Though much looser now, he was still clutching Poob’s hoodie, holding their face less than a foot away from his. The paused TV flooded the room with purple light. Pest tightened his grip on Poob’s collar once more and pulled him in so their faces were only inches apart.

Then, he kissed them.

Next

[zombeesknees]

currently in the life of the angie bee:

my sense of time is strangely broken, because it's almost 6pm but my brain is all, "gosh, it's not even noon yet!" and i have no fuckin idea why.

i've been deodorizing and washing and cleaning the house all day because i feel like there's a particularly sour smell throughout it, but now i'm wondering if it's me, and i don't know why i'm suddenly smelling so sour??? like, it's not a sweat smell, it's a sour, musty smell, and i'm still using the same shampoo and body washes i always do, and it's not as if my diet's changed significantly, so wth is going on??? IS IT A SIGN THAT I'M DYING OF SOME WEIRD DISEASE??? i know folks with diabetes sometimes smell strangely sweet, but i've never heard of something that makes you smell sour. OR IS IT ALL IN MY HEAD AND PSYCHOSOMATIC??? i'm not just gonna go up to someone and be like, "do you think i smell weird?"

quint remains one of the Characters of All-Time (and a Happy Jaws Day to all who celebrate it).

(yeah, i don't celebrate the 4th, what a bullshit holiday, we have nothing to be proud of as a country, especially these days.)

dropped $288 this morning on two and a half weeks-worth of groceries for one person. and that was buying basic, off-brand shit. how the fuck did we get to this.

slight silver lining: i have today, tomorrow, and the full weekend off, and i get to spend time with joel tomorrow AND see shara and nichole on sunday.

i set my reading goal for the year at 50 books (something i didn't come close to achieving last year, thanks to a reading block that set in in march and didn't let up for the rest of the year). and in the last two weeks i hit 54 books (almost all of them new-to-me, which is ALSO amazing). my unmedicated ADHD bullshit may still be preventing me from watching new shows and movies, but at least it's eased off on the reading front.

a new dude joined our book club this week and he's CUTE and likes fantasy and is a high school social studies/history teacher, and we discussed character archetypes for like ten minutes. maybe next club meeting i'll actually give him my number and ask him out.

wimsey has spent a full week in the flower donut collar thanks to scratching his chin raw and bloody. vet recced treating him with revolution in case it's because of mites, washing the wound with a special antibiotic flush, and keeping him in the collar until everything's fully healed/his fur grows back in. makes for a hella grompy flower:

god, leverage really is just the best show. doesn't matter how many times i watch it; i'm forever delighted and impressed with just how well written/constructed/everything it is. that's my emotional support family of thieves, your honor.

i'm getting SO CLOSE to filling out the final gaps in the current sections of my hazeldine WIP, and i really do think i'm gonna have to split it into two volumes instead of making it all vol. 6 as i had originally planned. but IF i do that, that means vol. 6 is gonna HAVE to end on a significant cliffhanger, which i typically try to avoid. (yes, technically all of the previous vols have ended on cliffhangers, since this is a continuing story spread over several volumes. but they haven't been LITERAL cliffhangers, with someone on the verge of death or something.) i don't like when books in a series i'm reading do that, so i try not to inflict that on my own readers. but perhaps i can mitigate it slightly by making sure both vols 6 AND 7 are fully polished/ready for printing, and release them like a month apart or something, so there isn't a huge wait in between...

FINALLY finished the replacement cross-stitch sampler of lighthouses for a gal from work (the first one got lost in the mail beginning of last month). now i can continue working on the Yee Dudes series for my bud jordan <3

but also i'm gonna try to design a pattern for myself re: a dracula joke that keeps popping into my head: descending the castle, lizard-fashion. i'm probably the only person who is THIS delighted/amused by that joke, but i'll enjoy stitching something for myself for a change, lol.

[monsoon-of-art]

Donut Hole

Achilles Come Down

Achilles, Achilles, Achilles Jump now, You are absent of cause Or excuse.

So self-indulgent, And self-referential No audience could ever want you.

[An uncharacteristically warm night in the Pearl Settlement. Big shoutout to anonymous bestie for beta reading!] [ao3 link here!]

Ingo explaining his encounter with the wayward child currently in Calaba’s tent only gave Irida more questions.

It truly seemed as if Berry had just…appeared. He had no ties to any of the groups currently living in Hisui; and even though he used Pokeballs like the Galaxy Team in Jubilife, they hadn’t made any mention of a missing boy (putting aside his vehement hatred for them).

His clothes were clearly foreign. Ingo had mentioned his dialect was strange, and this was coming from Ingo of all people, the man who had to be taught the local language. ‘Berry’ was either a terrible fake name or just a terrible name, period. No one had any idea who this ‘Palmer’ fellow was, and if he really was Berry’s father, why hadn’t he stepped forward? And how did Ingo of all people know him?

Irida chewed on her bottom lip as all of these thoughts swirled in her head. Glaceon nudged at her, fruitlessly trying to grab her attention out from the whirlpool of her mind.

Ingo, awkwardly sitting opposite her, cleared his throat. “I told Gaeric as well. I admitted that the boy seems familiar to me…and he told me that the boy looks like you.”

“Oh, don’t tell me that.” she groaned. “I didn’t see it, anyways. Just because we both have lighter hair doesn’t mean we’re related.”

“I am simply relaying what he told me.” he said softly. He knew her well enough to tell she was stressed about this. He felt partially responsible, he was the one who dragged the boy here in the first place. 

Ingo wanted to place a hand on her shoulder, to comfort her, but he didn’t want to overstep. Instead, he began petting her glaceon. “I am certain once the boy has his wounds looked over, and has a decent meal, he may be more open to listening to us.”

“...Yes. Yes, you are correct.” Irida agreed, glancing at him. “He…he looked terrible, Ingo. Did you see him? Of course you did, you carried him here-”

“Which is why he’s with Calaba now.” Ingo risked placing a hand on her shoulder, sensing that she was starting to spiral. “He’s in the best place he could be right now. Besides, even if he does set off, he certainly won’t get far. His cab isn’t optimized for this weather.”

Irida took a breath, placing her hand on his. “You’re right. We just need to wait, I suppose. I still don’t know how I can talk to him without my obi, or my headdress-”

“We will cross those tracks when we get there.” Ingo reassured her. “Perhaps Calaba can explain. She first greeted me, and she was…” he hesitated. “...Maybe we should have someone else.”

She snorted at that, pushing his hand off playfully. “Oh, don’t let her hear you!”

“She is an excellent medic. Her bedside manners, though…”

“She is old.” Irida waved off his concerns. “You know how she is. Do you know when the boy will wake up?”

Ingo shook his head. “Sabi said not for some time…but that conversation itself was some time ago. It could be anyone’s guess.”

“And what will you do in the meantime?” she asked. “You seemed…shaken up by the encounter.”

“I will…retire, for now. To my station. But I will be here if you need me.” Ingo’s answers were short. Concise. His voice sounded like he was so, so far away. “...I need to think.”

“I understand.”

---

Calaba looked over the boy laying on her floor. “This is bad.” she pointed at the bandages around his leg, practically a solid mass of dried blood at this point. ��Especially that. That is bad.”

“I put those on myself.” Palina muttered, mostly to herself. “They should have been changed several times over by now.”

“Bah, classic teenage foolhardiness.” Calaba grumbled, setting down her pack of herbs and beginning to rummage through it. Besides her, her bibarel chittered in agreement. “They believe themselves to be invincible. Start unwrapping it, so I can assess the damage.”

Palina squirmed at the thought. The wound was bad when she first wrapped it, there was no doubt it had gotten worse. And as she peeled the matted mass of blood-soaked wrappings away, Palina was right. His leg was a sickly canvas of reds, purples, and yellows. Swollen slightly, and warm to the touch.

“Sweet Almighty Sinnoh-” Palina covered her mouth with her hands, turning away. “It’s bad. It’s bad.”

“Not surprised.” Calaba said with stoicism only a well-practiced medical professional could muster. “I have some leeks, this should ease the swelling at least.”

She knelt beside him, grimacing slightly at the infected wound before cracking the leek in half. “Won’t fix everything, but it can only help.”

The boy shuddered as the leek juices touched his skin, the only sign of life since he had arrived. “That’s a good sign.” Calaba mentioned offhandedly, taking a fresh towel in order to rub the juices in more thoroughly.

“I’ll start wrapping his leg, you look over the rest of him. Check for bleeding, check for bruisings. Anything that looks off.”

Palina desperately wanted to say that she knew what she was doing, that she knew when someone looked injured, but she was much too wrapped in concern to be snarky. From the tears in his outfit she could see exposed skin, skin littered with cuts and scrapes and bruises.

“I’ll take off his coat-” she said, carefully looking for latches or buttons-

Berry moved. Subtly, enough for Palina to spot it from the corner of her eye. At first, she feared that he was waking up. What would he do when he saw her? Last they met, he ran off the moment she took her eyes off him.

But she saw the movement again, and she realized something.

Berry wasn’t moving. Something inside his coat was moving.

She jumped back as if he was concealing a live voltorb in his coat, scrambling on her hands to a safe distance. “T-There’s, there’s-”

“What? What?” Calaba quickly joined her, equally as startled, even if she hadn’t seen the same thing. “Spit it out!”

A muffled chirping filled the room as the thing inside Berry’s coat continued to squirm, looking for an exit. Bursting from his jacket like a parasite from a carcass, out popped a mothim’s face.

It blinked, blue antennae twitching as it took in the new surroundings.

Palina stammered, “I-Ingo said it was in its pokeball! H-He counted! All of them were accounted for!”

“Ingo must have counted wrong.” Calaba said, reaching for her broomstick. “It’s only a mothim, Palina. Get something to help me shoo it away.”

The mothim glared at the two, seemingly remembering Palina from before. It hissed at them, crawling out further from Berry's coat. Its wings were still soft and limp, folded at its sides.

Calaba raised the broom. “Alright, you need to leave. You’re not welcome in my tent.”

“P-Pest. Its name is Pest.” Palina said quietly.

Calaba turned, staring at her with a strange look. “He named them?”

Pest the Mothim continued to hiss, puffing up as it readied an attack. “Alright, it’s going to spit some string.” Calaba grumbled, raising the broom to block it. “I’ll start swatting, you grab it.”

The mothim huffed and puffed, a ring of light swirling around its thorax, before absorbing the light entirely. 

And it proceeded to start spitting fire.

“AH!” Calaba dropped the broom as the flames caught the dry wood. “What in Sinnoh’s Name?!-”

Pest unfurled its bright blue and yellow wings, furiously flapping in a clear threat display. With each furious hiss, embers flickered from its mandibles. Then, the moth began puffing back up, preparing another fiery blast.

“OUT! OUT!” Calaba demanded, pushing Palina and her bibarel away from the fire and to the cold outside.

“What about Berry-” Palina started to ask, squeaking as the mothim spat fire at them as they fled.

“Worry about us first!”

As they fled the tent, fire did what fire did best. Spread. The wooden support beams, furniture, flooring, and the piles of actual firewood made for excellent kindling. The canvas walls did nothing to stop the fire from spreading, if anything they only made it spread faster.

Pest stopped spitting fire, then, watching as the tent caught ablaze. It then turned to its unconscious trainer, frantically nudging at him and flapping its wings to keep the flames at bay.

---

Barry could see it. The light at the end of the tunnel. Each step closer lifted a weight from his shoulders. “We’re almost there…We’re almost there!”

He could feel himself start to walk just a bit faster. “Come on! Keep up with me! If you’re late, I’m fining you a million!”

He was running now, his feet echoing on the tiled floors. “Come on! Come on! Too slow! Too slow!” he laughed, feeling lighter than air. This felt…right. This felt right! They’d go back home, and they’d play tag. And he’d be faster, always be faster, but maybe he’d slow down for her to catch up.

The moment his shoe touched the tufts of grass growing just beyond the cave's influence, Barry spun around-

[____]'s foot hovered just above the grass. Frozen completely in place. 

The warm light of the outside hadn't reached her yet, shadowing by darkness. She slowly lowered her foot back down, back inside the confines of the cave.

She hadn't left yet.

She was still inside.

"...I'm sorry." Came her soft whisper.

Barry's smile died. "No."

From the darkness shot black claws. They wrapped around Her, stifling her screams before they could even leave her throat.

“NO!” he screamed, darting back, hand outstretched to grab her own.

But the Cofagrigus lid snapped shut, sealing her away. “I am so sorry, but the station is now closed.” the Cofagrigus said, voice echoing like an intercom. “Please make your way to the exits in an orderly manner-”

Pounding on the metallic body, he shouted, “NO! NO GIVE HER BACK! WE WERE SO CLOSE!”

“Please stand behind the yellow line! Please stand behind the yellow line!”

“WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?!”

The cave walls flickered like a glitching gif, rapidly switching back and forth between the dark cave walls and the broken spires of Spear Pillar. A swirling vortex rumbled above, crackling with lightning and specks of light.

“I-I don’t want to be here.” Barry whimpered. “I-I don’t-” He turned back to the Cofagrigus. But the Cofagrigus was no longer there.

Replacing the Cofagrigus was an enormous, looming shadow. Beady red eyes, hot as coals, bore into him.

As the monster screamed, it felt as if nails were being driven into his ears and fire licked at his limbs.

Fire! Fire!

…fire?

Barry coughed as the smoke filled his nose. As he blinked away the red-eyed monster, his vision filled with the concerned face of a bug pokemon instead.

It felt as if he had stepped from one nightmare to another. His mind was foggy, his ears were ringing, and he couldn’t feel his extremities just yet.

The bug pokemon sitting on him was chirping - he could see its mandibles moving, but he couldn’t quite hear its frightened cries. It was as if Barry's head was full of cotton.

“Woag.” Barry slurred.

Finally, he acknowledged the bug currently tugging on his ears, trying to get his attention. It had a dark face and huge, blue eyes. “...Pest?” he asked.

Pest nodded frantically. But Barry’s confusion only grew. “Ah…aren’t mothims orange?” he asked. “Are you…sick?”

The fogginess of the mind was beginning to clear. “Wh. Where am I?” 

Glancing around, Barry realized two things; he did not recognize the house-thing he was in, and everything was currently on fire.

“Oh. Oh shit.”

Unbridled panic mingled with the dense fog in his mind, creating a toxic cocktail of confusion and terror. They needed to go. Now.

“My legs. I can’t feel my legs.” Barry wheezed, shooting to a sitting position, Pest crawling up to rest on his head. “Oh god they cut off my legs-” he looked down at his perfectly attached legs. “...OK they didn’t cut off my legs. That’s good. That’s good.”

As he stood, he haphazardly covered his mouth with his scarf and tucked Pest under his arm and out of the smoke cloud.

As he struggled to find the exit within the clouds of smoke and crackling flames, Barry tried to push past the mind fog to answer a simple question; how did he get here, exactly?

Last thing he could remember was being in the mountains with Fern, and then-

Subway Master Ingo. Of all the people, Subway Master Ingo appeared in his path. Looking like a captain that had died at sea, challenging him to a battle. The rest of the battle was a rage-filled blur…but Ingo had knocked the boy out and kidnapped him.

So, Subway Master Ingo was working with Team Galactic now. That was cool. Awesome. And he had kidnapped Barry and left him in a burning building to die. Double cool. Amazing, even.

Finally, Barry had managed to stumble into the door. He was surprised to be hit with a blast of cold wind, seeing a frozen-over town just outside the fiery home.

Mostly frozen.

From wherever the fire started (oblivious to how he was the root cause of it) it had spread to most of the homes by now. With the wind spreading the embers, the homes and buildings made of wood and canvas had absolutely no chance.

People and pokemon alike screamed as they fled the fires, some of them trying to extinguish the roaring blaze. All of them sported the pink circular symbol, but none of them seemed to care about Barry.

Was it egotistical to expect to be sprung upon the moment he opened the door? Or was it paranoia?

Barry wasn’t sure. But after looking around and determining that he wasn’t about to be jumped, he began to stumble into the snow.

Either the sleeping powder hadn’t completely worn off, or he had inhaled too much smoke, or maybe even a secret third thing, but Barry felt bad. His mind was fuzzy, his vision was blurry, he still couldn’t quite feel his fingers and toes, and his legs currently felt like bendy straws.

“Le…let’s get outta here.” he muttered. Despite being unconscious for…Arceus only knew, all Barry wanted to do was lay down and sleep.

He sure as Hell wasn’t going to sleep here, though. Picking a direction, Barry began to shamble like a corpse, not caring for the blazing fires nor the frightened people. All he knew was that he needed to leave before someone did notice him.

---

When Irida heard the terrified cries of “Fire”, she had hoped it had been a cruel joke.

But when she opened her doors, instead of being met with bored teenagers, she was greeted with half of the settlement ablaze.

Irida felt a little bit of herself wither away right then and there, as if she was a piece of paper in an oven.

Their settlement wasn’t built for fires. No, quite the opposite, they were built to protect from the cold and rains; insulated with thick canvas, cloth, fibers, wood. All of those a veritable buffet for a wayward blaze.

Off in the distance, she heard one of the older wood-burning stoves explode from the pressure.

But once the moment of sheer horror had passed, Irida set to work. 

She commanded her glaceon to try and dampen the blaze with its icy breath - carefully, of course - and demanded that Warden Ingo be roused from…wherever he had gone.

But she found  Ingo shortly after, having brought his kadabra and gliscor to aid in evacuation and douse the fires, if possible.

“I was in my tent, when I heard the screams!” he said, and Irida found herself thanking for his naturally loud voice, able to hear him clear as a bell over the crackles and hisses of nearby flames. “How did this happen?”

“Your guess is as good as mine-” she began to say, glancing around, her eyes noticing movement between the burning homes. Staggering through the snow, tripping over every snow bank, seemingly uncaring for the destruction surrounding it…

Without a word, Irida made her way over. Stepping over smoldering rubble, wincing from the residual heat stinging her exposed skin.

“Wait! Wait!” she called after the stumbling figure. It too traversed the destroyed settlement, a moth-pokemon tucked under its arm.

Irida knew who it was. But she still hoped that she was wrong.

She grabbed the boy’s wrist, stopping him in his tracks. His skin was near burning hot and slick with sweat, and Irida wasn’t sure if it was from the fires or fever.

Now, Irida had to admit, she had a certain visage of the strange child in her mind, the way Palina and Ingo described him. A crazed blonde-haired boy, wielding a knife and controlling equally rabid pokemon by his side-

But Irida was met with a boy barely older than Lian; thin, injured, sick, and covered in ash. Face lit by the fires, all she saw in his eyes was confusion and terror. Barry slowly looked down at the hand on his wrist, baffled as to why he stopped moving.

Then, he looked back to her. “Why…are you me?” he asked, voice hoarse and quiet.

Irida honestly didn't expect him to say that. She wasn’t sure what she expected, but certainly not…that. Ingo had mentioned it before, and Gaeric before him, the blonde boy bearing some minor resemblance to her.

It was nothing more than coincidental. Irida had no blood family. Not anymore.

The grip on his wrist tightened ever so slightly, fearful of him slipping away like sand between her fingers. “You can’t go.” Irida said. “Please. You can’t.”

“I have to.” 

With three words, Irida felt her blood run cold. Despite the clear confusion, he spoke with such conviction. That neither Time or Space would stop him. That this wouldn’t stop him.

Irida finally tore her gaze away upon hearing Ingo shout in surprise. Looming above him was a gardevoir? Or maybe a gallade? 

Ingo did not fear pokemon. He did not fear the Alpha Garchomp in the south, nor the powerful Alpha Mamoswine that lived in the wastes, nor did he even fear the Alpha Zoroark that stalked the night.

But the panic in the man’s face as the not-gardevoir-not-gallade was palpable. It had him by the collar, his pokemon equally terrified but waiting along the sidelines. With shaking hands, he reached into his coat to pull out Berry’s bag, offering it to the pokemon.

"FERN!" Berry began waving his free arm to get the Pokemon's attention. "I'm over here, buddy!" 

Slowly, the pokemon turned to face them. Irida could almost physically feel its rage, radiating off the creature in waves. It dropped Ingo to the floor like a bag of sootroots, his pokemon quickly snatching him away before ‘Fern’ changed its mind. Irida found herself frozen in place, even as the pokemon stalked closer and closer, crunching through the snow.

Berry finally pulled away from her, yanking his wrist from her grasp and mumbling, “Alright, gotta go now. I gotta find my friend.”

“Friend? Who?” Irida asked, finally tearing her gaze away from the mystery pokemon back to the child. 

“...I don’t even know anymore.”

With whatever ‘Fern’ was by his side, Berry half-heartedly waved goodbye to her. Irida responded with the same amount of puzzled enthusiasm.

And she watched the two leave the settlement, vanishing into the dark and snowy night. Part of her knew that she wouldn’t stop them.

No. She couldn’t stop them.

She blinked, the spell over her seemingly broken. Thrust back into the moment, she spun around to face the burning settlement behind her. Somewhere, another wood stove exploded. The distant screams and shouts of her people rang in her ears.

Pushing aside any previous thoughts she had about the boy, she began focusing on the task at hand. At the current moment, this was far more important than a wayward child.

Although the haunted look in his eyes refused to leave her mind.

---

[NO ONE EXPECTS PEST- and he's shiny! Surprise! I never mentioned it aloud but everytime I showed him off in a team update in the notes I would use a shiny Burmy sprite! At least one person guessed it, though!] [Also god, Barry. Barry :(] New Team Update:

[akehoshimystar]

Chapter 6

Ito: (Yua-chan…)

There was no sign of sadness or pain on her face as she muttered that. This little girl had probably already accepted her fate a long time ago. Perhaps Kamiya-kun had sensed this, so he remained silent for a while before proceeding to choose his words carefully.

Kamiya: .….Did your mom say it should be kept a secret? Yua: No. Some time ago. One night, after saying goodnight, I went to get some water. I heard her saying that she’s glad that we didn’t resemble each other. Yua couldn't be found no matter what, my existence should be a secret. And that’s the conversation between mom and dad. Kamiya: ! Yua: …………But. When we sang together, she said that Yua's voice is the same as hers. That’s why….. Yua's voice should be a secret as well. As long as this secret can protect Mommy, I don’t mind. Kamiya: ……Yua. Ito: (………I see.)

I was instructed not to ask for the reason why she speaks this way. Not that she "can't" speak in front of people… She believes she "shouldn't". The mystery of her pale complexion at the donut shop has finally been solved.

Children's world is constructed by what the adults close to them say. They pick up bits and pieces of things that "children don't understand”, interpret them in their own way, and are sometimes mistaken. Especially when things are not spoken out loud, there is no opportunity for them to be corrected. What they believes slowly seep into their bodies and eventually become "rules”. Once that happens, it’s not something that can easily be interfere anymore. "For Mommy’s sake.” Even if no one forced her to do so, she followed her own rules and kept her mouth shut this whole time.

Ito: (Will she stay like this forever?) Kamiya: .…..I see. That can only mean one thing… …….Yua's voice is a treasure. Ito: (…..Hmm?)

Even without seeing him, I could tell that his face has kindness written all over. I couldn't immediately understand what Kamiya-kun said. It seems that Yua-chan felt the same way, so she stared blankly at Kamiya-kun.

Yua: Treasure…? Kamiya: Yua's voice is beautiful. And it would be even more beautiful if you sang, at least, that’s what I believe. Something beautiful that remains hidden and no one else can find. It's the secret treasure that Yua’s mom gave to her. Yua: …..Something mommy gave me…. Kamiya: Yes. Do you want to treasure it? Yua: ……Yes…. Kamiya: Yeah…. Then there's no doubt about it It is Yua's treasure. Ito: (…Yua's voice… Treasure…) Kamiya: If you want to keep it concealed, you can hide it, but if there’s someone you want to show it, just show it. Just be sure to cherish it, okay? Yua: ……Yeah.

Kamiya-kun's warm affirmations piled up one by one…. and Yua-chan slowly nodded back to each of them. Guided by his gentle smile, she finally did the same thing. It wasn't an awkward, troubled smile, far from it…. It was such a soft, natural smile. I was legit stunned by the whole exchange between them.

Kamiya: …..Deputy? Why are you standing like a rock? Ito: ………Kamiya-kun, you’re simply incredible. Kamiya: Where did that come from all of a sudden? Ito: It’s just my honest opinion. Sorry, I can't put it into words well.

Parents who chose to hide, and a child who thought she’s chosen to do something. A big secret that will bring about a great deal of confusion and misfortune if it is revealed. Her voice is the key to uncovering that secret, hence why she hid it. I would probably think the same if I were in her position. Thinking that my own voice is a burden.

Ito: (…Yua-chan wouldn't have been able to laugh like this with just a mere understanding and sympathy.)

I'm glad she's now met someone who can tell her that what she possesses is treasure.

Ito: I'm glad Kamiya-kun is here with us. I really mean it. Kamiya: .…..Did I make you feel bad again? Ito: Hmm? No, not at all… and what do you mean "again"? Kamiya: Oh, my bad. There's nothing deep about it! If you’re okay, then you’re okay. Everything is alright. Ito: …..Really? Kamiya: Really.

I stopped myself from cross-examining him. He casually looked away with a smile…. I felt like I might end up being too forceful if I kept going. Plus, I didn’t want to tear away this expression from him.

Kamiya: ..…..All clear! There's no one here. In return for Yua telling me the secret, I'll show you something. Ito: …..? What is it?

Kamiya clapped his hands, and took off his jacket before he started doing some light stretching.

Kamiya: It's kind of unfair that we're the only ones who know Yua's secret, right? Then, I'll show some parts of mine as well. Yua: Kamiya-kun’s secret treasure…? Kamiya: Hmmm. I don't know if it's a treasure or not. Since I haven’t shown it to "everyone" yet, so I guess you can say it’s something important…. Probably. Ito: “Probably”? Kamiya: I said what I said.

Kamiya: Hmm…… This should be enough. Yua, hold on to these for me. You can have the candy if you want.

He took the house key and the candy out of his pocket and handed it to Yua. As for me, I was given a smartphone.

Kamiya: You two stay here. When I raise my hand, can you play this? Ito: Ah…. Sure.

The music app was opened on the smartphone screen, the long song title was running horizontally across the title bar.

Ito: (……Don Quixote…. Basilio's Variation……) Yua: Kamiya-kun, what are you doing? Ito: …..I wonder the same thing.

Kamiya-kun stopped a little distance away, and after a moment of stillness…. He turned his back to us, took a stance and slowly raised one of his hands.

Ito: (Ah, this title is ballet track. I've heard the name before, but I've never seen it with my own eyes…)

As I wondered if ballet could be danced in a place like this, I pressed the play button…

Kamiya: ……… Ito: (…..Eh.)

Kamiya-kun turned around to the music. Before I could even be confused by how he looked like a completely different person…. He jumped surprisingly high, almost as light as a feather.

Yua: Wow! Ito: …….

His long limbs moved with such grace that it's hard to believe those organs are the same ones as mine. Moving and stopping. Running and jumping. I was so captivated by every single movement that I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

Kamiya: ……Thank you for your attention! Ito: (Oh…….) Yua: Amazing! That was awesome…! Ito: .…..It really was wonderful…… I mean, wasn’t that beyond amazing!? Kamiya: Ahaha.

I stopped the next song that had started playing without my notice, and joined the applause session with Yua-chan. Kamiya-kun walked up to us with a smile. This is the guy I know, the one I've spent the last few days with.

Kamiya: I wasn't sure how it would turn out, but it went surprisingly well even with these shoes. I couldn't spin properly, though. Ito: I don’t think so. Your spin was perfect in my eyes. Kamiya: Really? To me, that was kind of an unauthentic spin. Yua: Does Kamiya-kun dance? Kamiya: This our secret, okay? Yua: ! Okay, I got it…!

Ito: (.……I still think that it was a little strange that he is in the ST Dept.) (But that raised another question…… Who is Kamiya-kun? The mystery somehow has deepened even more.)

Kamiya: Oh. Sorry, I need to take this. .….It’s from Tomose-san. Ito: ! Kamiya: Hello. Tomose: [I got a call from Kise. All the procedures are now complete.] [Nonomura Yua has absolutely no connection to the client. It's a little earlier than planned, but you can go home now.] Kamiya: Okay, we’ll head there as soon as we get out of here. Yua: ……? Kamiya: Your mother will be able to leave the hospital a little earlier than planned. Yua: ! Ito: ……… Tomose: [This fact will be made known to the public sooner or later, but there is still a chance that someone who receives late information will make a move afterwards.] [Remain vigilant until the handover is complete. We will take care of the rest.] Kamiya: Roger that.

Yua: …..Is she all better now? Kamiya: Completely healed and ready to go.

I feel a little relieved when Yua-chan smiled happily at Kamiya-kun’s response.

Ito: (.…..I'm glad to see Yua-chan being happy to see her “mother” doing well.) Kamiya: But there’s no need to rush. Would you like to watch her a little longer? Yua: …….. It’s okay. Let’s head back soon. Ito: You sure? Yua: Yes. I already have precious treasure in my hand. Ito: ……I see. Kamiya: Alright. Off we go! This was supposed to be a secret, but you’ll know soon anyway… Your mother really wants to see you as soon as possible! She’s waiting for you. Yua: .…..Really? Kamiya: Really.

Yua-chan took the hand Kamiya-kun had offered, and extended her other hand towards me. Shortly after we started walking out of the square hands in hands. Yua-chan turned back to face the advertisement once again. Kamiya-kun stopped without saying anything, the same goes for me. We waited for a few seconds. In response to her tighten grip, I squeezed back her small hand slightly. Her hair may have a different color and length than her “mom”, but the way it flowed softly was almost a copy of the photo in the advertisement. Truly beautiful.

Chapter 7

[topazadine]

Personal vibes (body positivity)

I thought of my body as the enemy for so many years. I starved myself, binged and purged, self-harmed, gave myself third-degree burns, developed so many vitamin deficiencies because I just hated. my. body.

And it wasn't just the way it looked either: I hated its needs, its demands, its cravings, its aches and pains, its perpetual maintenance.

It hated me too. I could feel it. The pain in my joints, which were holding so much trauma, reminded me that my body betrayed me whenever it could. Migraines didn't tell me to slow down: it told me to beat my body into submission, pop as many NSAIDs as I could to tell it to shut up.

If my body were someone else's, I'd be the abuser, whipping it mercilessly until it surrendered.

But rock climbing is completely rewiring my experience of my body. It's only been like a month, but I am delighting in my body now! It's my helper, my friend, my ally.

My mind and body are working together to solve the problem. I delight in the way that I crouch down in preparation to spring up onto a hold; it makes me feel like an apex predator leaping on my prey. When I'm up there, I'm as delicate as a ballerina, each movement chosen with care.

I love how strong my arms are, the way they can hold me on this tiny ledge. When my ankles pivot to extend my reach, or when my hips snap up to push myself further, I feel so proud. Each push of my thighs reminds me that I am a powerful animal born to move.

I'm learning to give my body what it needs. I don't feel guilty for eating more, because my body is working hard and needs the nutrition. I'm taking my vitamins religiously. If I want tacos or cake, my body deserves it. I earned my reward.

But I also recognize that avoiding junk food is a form of self-care, not restriction or abuse. It's ensuring my body gets what it needs, that the food I provide is serving me rather than taking away from my goals. And frankly, I don't crave it much anymore anyway. My body knows what it needs.

When my hands are chapped after a session, I nourish them with nice salves; I moisturize them at night. I drink as much water as my body wants, and I stretch in the morning and evenings to help lubricate my joints.

My tailbone has been hurting, so I bought a nice donut pillow to sit on, and when it stings after I sit up, I go "oh, you poor thing! It's alright. Let me be gentler."

When I am sore after a session, I go, "You wonderful darling! You worked so hard and I'm proud of you. Now it's time to rest. Let's get some sleep, and eat good food, and drink plenty of water, and stretch out so you're ready for next time."

And it's responding so well. My joints don't hurt as much anymore, and my skin is clearing up, and I almost never get migraines now.

I've never cared much about what I look like; I don't care that I have a stomach rolls, stretch marks, scars. But I love what my body can do for me, and what I can do for it. I love developing this friendship with my body, comforting it, nourishing it.

Forgiving its weaknesses, accepting its flaws, treating it with care, respecting its limitations. It all feels so good. I love to love my body.

If you've had an antagonistic relationship with your body, I encourage you to try to find a physical activity that feels good and that is within your limits.

Not to lose weight or gain muscle, but just to build that partnership and delight in what you can do. Something that is just for you and your body, without expectations, without societal pressures.

Maybe you've never thought of yourself as sporty (I never have) or you have a bad relationship with exercise because you feel shame when you mess up. Perhaps people fat-shamed you for not being able to do something or insisted that exercise is only to lose weight, not to have fun.

That's not true! Moving your body should be a delight. I know that doing mandatory physical exercise during school made me think of sports as punishment and misery, but now that I'm choosing it for myself, I crave it!

I go because I want to, not because anyone is telling me to. I go because it's calming and it's a challenge. I don't think about whether I'm gaining muscle or losing fat or whatever. I think about how exciting it is to finally wreck that route that's been tormenting me, and how much I want to solve the problem I haven't been able to yet.

And I think about how much my body loves to serve me and how we are a team.

Just show yourself affection; have fun. Move because your body wants to. I think you'll find you come to love yourself more when you let your body do what it's designed to do: support you through all your activities.

[msmargaretmurry]

Oh! I did think of something lol, since I’m getting back into hockey after a bit and I’ve moved back home-ish I feel obligated to be a Bruins fan, but the only irl people I know who are Bruins fans I just /know/ will have the worst takes, but on the other hand, angry boston accents are amazing. Thoughts?

OK SO. i assume you're in the boston area, which is awesome, i love boston. i haven't been in a few years but i'm going next month and i'm so excited!! what a great city. (unless you're somewhere else entirely and just happen to be surrounded by bruins fans with bad takes, in which case: i'm sorry.)

now, being a girlie of the east coast persuasion who is NOT from the dunkin donuts region of new england i have to say that i am morally opposed to boston sports. i can't help that, it's in the water. however, if you ARE in the boston area, i will say that being a hometown team fan can be VERY fun in a way that's just kind of impossible to get otherwise. so i won't judge you if you want to be a bruins fan. i have some boston-area friends who are huge bruins fans who have great takes, so fun bruins fans definitely exist and maybe you can find some! or, perhaps, you can infect the people you already know with your good takes.

if you decide you want to try being a bruins fan, here are my tips: commit to being a homer, but base it love for your team, not disdain for other teams. (this doesn't mean you can't be a hater when it's called for. in this house we love nursing a grudge.) just, take advantage of being local to other fans. being a hometown fan myself, i love just being able to go out and be in my community of people who love my team with me. pick yourself some little dudes to root for. may i suggest matt grzelcyk? just allow yourself to delight in the antics and mostly, decide to be a fan for YOUR reasons, and don't let the bad take brigade ruin it for you. also, angry boston accents ARE amazing. i support you.

if you decide you don't want to be a bruins fan, or to be a very casual bruins fan who also roots for other teams (not sure if this is legal in boston but breaking the law is sexy so don't worry about it) i would highly recommend, if you are a person who goes to bars, googling "[city/team] bars in [your area]". if there's one near you, you might be able to make some friends!

regardless of what fan path you choose, i hope you have fun diving back in!! 💙💙

[auburniivenus]

RP MUSE VALENTINE’S APPLICATION.

your name: kurosaki ichigo

Romantic or platonic?: romantic, obviously

A night in or dinner out or an activity?: an activity! let's go get donuts, we can try one of each flavor

Ice cream or chocolate covered strawberries?: chocolate covered strawberries!! ... and no, that doesn't mean I'm gonna cover myself in chocolate, i-- nevermind.

What's your perfect date?: anywhere and anything is fine as long as I'm with you. *careless whisper starts playing* err, anyways, in all seriousness now, I like getting to know new places, especially ones where we can get yummy food. but just staying home is also okay, movie nights are great.

Would you cook for me?: yes 🧡

Would you let me cook for you?: ... you already do so much for me, let me handle the cooking, yeah?

Can we make-out?: i mean, if you wanna, I'm definitely not gonna say no.

Make out in private or in public?: in private, I'm not an exhibitionist

Do you like to cuddle?: I sure do

Blankets or no blankets for cuddling?: blankets

Couch or bed?: bed ;)

What are at least 3 hobbies of yours?: reading, playing games and worshipping you 😘

Tell me something about you no else knows: i can be very affectionate when i want to

Why do you want to be my valentine?: because you're hot, I'm hot, and together we can be the hottest couple around 😎

What makes you a good Valentine?: I will respect and support you in your choices always. and i will also take care of you and protect you at all times. 🧡🧡🧡

Upon   the   silken   fabric   of   her   countenance,   a   smile   erupts   with   the   succulent   grace   of   a   cherry   blossom   embracing   the   first   kiss   of   spring's   caress.   It   is   a   smile   that   seems   to   have   been   manufactured   from   the   very   essence   of   joy,   delicate   yet   unyielding   in   its   splendor.   Her   laughter,   a   chorus   of   mirth,   is   the   unwarranted   gift   presented   upon   her,   as   unplanned   and   enchanting   as   a   summer   rain   serenading   the   parched   earth.   Those   twin   pools   of   molten   caramel   shimmer   with   the   richness   and   warmth   of   a   thousand   autumnal   sunsets   as   they   dance   across   his   words   with   the   diligence   of   a   devoted   scholar   poring   over   ancient,   forbidden   texts.

Each   syllable   he   pens   is   a   precious   stone   in   the   assemblage   of   their   shared   moments,   and   the   activity   he   proposes—a   whimsical   dalliance   with   doughnuts—ignites   the   embers   of   her   smile,   transforming   it   into   a   blazing   beacon   of   pure,   unadulterated   delight.   Orihime's   heart   harbors   an   adoration   for   these   ringed   confections,   a   love   as   round   and   endless   as   the   treats   themselves.

"I   think   it's   a   lovely   idea   to   have   you   enrobed   in   chocolate—a   tempting   dessert   indeed."   She   muses,   her   voice   conveying   a   cascade   of   notes,   light   and   teasing.   A   coy   giggle,   like   the   tinkling   of   crystal   in   a   gentle   breeze,   escapes   her   lips.   "Perhaps   one   day   we   might   venture   beyond   the   borders   of   our   beloved   Japan?"   Ventures,   her   suggestion   hanging   in   the   air,   her   hues   ablaze   with   the   fire   of   wanderlust,   mirroring   his   own   thirst   for   discovery   as   if   it   were   a   reflection   of   her   very   soul.

"One   less   point   for   not   allowing   me   the   honor   of   cooking   for   you." Jests,   her   words   wrapped   in   a   playful   chide,   a   dance   of   light   and   shadow   playing   across   the   canvas   of   her   features.   For   Inoue,   cooking   is   not   merely   an   act   but   a   ritual,   a   sacred   ballet   of   flavors   and   aromas.   Yet,   this   minor   discord   does   little   to   mar   the   symphony   of   their   connection.   "You   are   very   kind,   but   there   is   no   need   for   adoration.   I   am   no   goddess."   Declares   with   a   humility   that   only   serves   to   heighten   her   innate   grace.   Delicately,   with   the   care   of   an   artist   adding   the   final   touch   to   a   masterpiece,   she   affixes   a   stamp   to   his   paper,   a   seal   imbued   with   the   essence   of   her   affection.

[donuts4evry1]

First off Jellyfish mural outside

AHHH THIS IS GREAT!! ESPECIALLY THE MURAL!!!! It's so prettyyyy

Alright it's now the first edition of: Donut reviews aquariums! I'm not sure what aquarium this is but my over all impression is... it's very nice :) and well kept. The jellies look healthy and happy ^-^

Now for the bullets:

I'm still pretty hit-or-miss with my jellyfish identification but it looks like there's Atlantic and Pacific Sea nettles, and maaaybe Amakusa Jellyfish (or perhaps another morph of Atlantic sea nettle/Bay Nettle, I still have trouble differentiating between the species). Anyways this has to be the most diversity I've ever seen in sea nettles- most only carry one or two species :>

A little confused as to why the "Moon jellyfish" card is above a tank that's clearly for jellyfish that are... not moon jellyfish. What? ??? I was hoping to get some clarification ;~;;;

Also, the difference in stripes for what I'm guessing is an atlantic nettle is AMAZING. Some are thicker than others and this is a real treat for the eyes. Can't wait to see them for myself in real life, one day

AUGHH I LOVE UPSIDE DOWN JELLYFISH. When I saw them for the first time at the Ripley's Aquarium, I pretty much acted the same as I did when I first found an Emmet Cosplayer at a Con (which was uhm. trip over myself and fall onto the ground haha). Looks like this tank is getting plenty of light, though Ripley's Aquarium had an open space on the top (probably to control the temperature or something? Idk). The tank looks flat too, instead of round. Like a hole in the wall ^-^. I think its quite nice though, we should really get an upside down jelly cam one of these days, I'm tired of moon jellies and sea nettles

It might just be the lighting but there are not that many zooxanthellae tags on the jellies... I wonder why? Are these Cassiopea ornata? I typically don't see them with as many tags as I do with C. xamachana

(for reference, here is the C. xamachana featured at the Ripley's aquarium :>!)

You might notice there's a slight variation in tags too- some more "stringy" and the one on the front that actually look like "tags," haha.

For once the moon jelly exhibit isn't so flashy, haha :). I think it's quite refreshing (! Kind of weird how all the other jellies are put into circle kreisel tanks while the moon jellies are in a discrete rectangle kreisel tank. Haha.

Anyways yeah!! I give these jellyfish exhibits an 8/10. They're pretty solid and have fairly good diversity. They also did a good job of choosing pretty looking jellyfish. And most importantly, it looks like the jellies are in pretty good health ^-^!! Always a bonus :>

[vacantgodling]

🖋️,❤️, and😭 !! Don't have a specific wip in mind, so you get to decide !!

thank youuuuu 🥺💛 i can talk about the liminal space series for these lol :3

🖋️"what inspired you to write your WIPs?"

donut wip was inspired by my frustration at not being able to finish a story, and i thought if i just plotted out an easy, straight to the point, horror novel (cuz whoops donut wip is straight horror p much) that i’d be able to finish it. i wrote like 15 chapters in 2 weeks and then burned myself out when i started a new job in 2021 BUT as i was thinking about it, more and more could i see it fitting into the universe that already existed in jenna the reaper. but… there was no bridge from point a (college horror) to point b (high school supernatural horror literally across the country)

this is where the inspo for noi, alone came in. i’d had noi as a character in some form, for about as many years as i’ve had jenna but i never knew what to DO with them. but it seemed so perfect to make them the bridge between juls and jenna’s stories, even if they must also go through the horrors 😔 them having a demon entity thing in their eye was always a thing so that makes the transition even better (well, worse for them but better for plot)

and then jenna… tbh i never “had” inspiration for jenna. i was literally chilling at my ex’s house in hs when all of a sudden jenna just knocked on the door of my brain like “hey yeah i’m here now.” with all her plot already figured out LMAO. 💀💀 so in case you were wondering she’s always been like this. all i’ve really done is just tweak it and fit it better into the world with the other two wips, and add stuff on etc etc.

mason at the airport sort of came about from me wanting to take a slightly different direction with liminal spaces, like explore different kinds?? so mason’s story, while it’s in the universe it is Slightly different than the rest of them just cuz i wanted to try something new and LESS horrific lmao

❤️"what are your favorite scenes from your WIPs?"

donut wip (gasp that i’m actually willing to talk about Some spoilers lol):

the donut sharing scene is the most important scene To Me

the elevator flashback that talks about juls’s past & trauma around elevators

when juls and joaquin kiss (even tho the poly is alive and well in my head, this relationship is kind of the only one that gets enough time but it’s something i wanna change when i try to write draft 2)

also a particular scene involving news anchors that i don’t wanna spoil but i LOVE it

noi, alone:

tbh i haven’t plotted this one out that well but when noi meets seph is gonna be soooooo funny bc they’re lowkey attracted to him Immediately and lilly loves making fun of them about it. secondly, when the three of them break into the dorm i want it to be kind of messy

jenna the reaper / jenna the witch king:

the scene where noi reveals their demon

the scene with vega that is sad……. ough……

the scene where jenna tells carlos about frankenstein, i actually have that written out lol

the scene where jenna and yehna merge is gonna be OOF

mason at the airport:

i also don’t have much planned yet but i’m excited to write the beginning when mason realizes that there’s something Wrong with the airport and that he’s Alone (or is he)

😭"what are the biggest challenges writing your WIPs?"

honestly for all of these wips it’s just attention span. i enjoy all these stories but sitting down and writing them since 2021 and i burned myself out on donut wip has been a challenge. i’m hoping i can come back around to wanting to write them, but it’s probably gonna be a Long while (cuz i’m projecting in terms of original projects, i’ll write paramour then vampires don’t take road trips and then perhaps after i’ll come back to these)