#I’m frozen in my room I can’t go back out to the rice on the stove OMFG

[cartoon-skeleton]

I HATE MY ROOMMATES I HATE MY ROOMMATES

[gluion]

persist and resist (but still, fail) ➵ sung hanbin

sung hanbin x reader

all it takes is one phone call for you to realize what you could’ve had with hanbin

genre/warnings ➵ angst, almost lovers, long-distance but not-in-a-relationship, unspoken words/hidden signals, a lot of wondering of what could’ve been

word count ➵ 728 words

inspired by ➵ “the 1” by taylor swift, that one skype call in “past lives”

a/n ➵ this drabble is very reminiscent of an upcoming fic i have which will a hanbin version entitled “finger trapped (ripped to its seams)” but its taking a bit to pump out (and i’m very much in my feelings as we speak…) so bear with me and enjoy this drabble for now :33 IT’S OUT THOUGH IF YOU WANNA READ IT! do reblog and leave feedback!!

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! masterlist

it’s quiet uptown. as you smell the winter air, frozen kisses graze your cheeks. sounds of cars have been replaced with the buzzing of lamposts and flakes have taken raindrops’ role. on the snow-piled balcony, you hear the wood crackle behind you.

yet, warmth is stored in the voice on the other line.

“so, what’s it like there?” the rasp that accompanies hanbin’s words remind you of the time zone difference between you two. while it may be crack of dawn in korea, night has fallen at where you stand.

“you’ve asked that question how many times in this call.” a giggle leaves you. “you’re making me think that you never listen.”

a soft hum leaves him. “you know that’s not true.” your fingers grip on the blanket draped on your shoulders. “what are you up to?”

“damn, not even letting me answer the thousand questions you seem to have for me.”

“sorry,” he chuckles, “just never hear from you.”

for a moment, all you can do is sniffle.

“it’s quiet here. everyone’s off to see their families.” your hand reaches out to rail, writing the characters of his name on the snow, as you bask in the stillness of the town. “i like it like this.”

“like it like what?”

“when it’s not busy. it’s only during the winter time when you’ll barely hear a horn or chatter.” a smile makes its way to your lips. “kind of like when we’d sneak into school during the summer time.”

heat waves would do their best to tie you down then, draining you of any energy to enjoy the wonders of summer, but you and hanbin were drawn to adventures. while there would be trips to the mart to grab the familiar taste of chocolate popsicles or the playground you’ve bruised your knees at, the school seemed to call on your names. the empty hallways whispered the narratives of students who came before you two—you were certain that yours and hanbin’s story would be told, as well.

“god, i can’t believe we had so much time to waste then,” hanbin admits over the memory. only a hum leaves you. “i miss it.”

a beat passes.

“yeah, me too.” the whisper barely leaves you.

there’s a life in korea that you’ve lost—the quiet exchange of laughter during classes, the smell of fresh kkwabaegi fresh from the fryer, and the nights spent stargazing.

but in the life you have now—in the stillness of your room during midnights, the rush hours of your commute, the conservations you have with the locals—you can’t help but wonder, wonder, wonder. 

would you be in a 9-to-5 job at a corporate workplace or performing at sold-out venues? would you wake up early in the morning to bake or would you sleep in the comfort of your own bed? or would you go back to school and dive into the niche topics you’ve always wanted to explore?

but would you live alone in a different part of korea or travel around the world with him? would you wake up to the smell of freshly-cooked pancakes or microwaved fried rice from the night before? or would he latch to your body that’s reached the highest degrees, or make him soup during flu season? (he’s always had a weak immune system. did that change?) 

there’s a life in korea that you long for—and there’s a person that you’ve lost. if things were only different, maybe you’d have him for many orbits around the sun.

did he ever think of a life you two could’ve had?

“hey, i have to go,” you say.

“oh,” hanbin’s tone is laced with disappointment, “okay.”

for a moment, not a word is exchanged between you two.

“talk soon?” his question takes you by surprise.

you would’ve loved to agree—yes! i’ll make sure to come visit—but you only smile to yourself with held back tears.

“bye, hanbin.”

that was enough of an answer for him. “okay. bye.”

the call drops. the warmth that your phone held has disappeared. while it makes sense to retreat back into your flat, bask in the heat emitting from the fireplace and read the words of sylvia plath, you remain standing on the snow-piled balcony.

it didn’t matter what you two could’ve had. it didn’t matter if he wondered the same things.

but it could’ve been him—that’s all you know.

taglist ➵ @kflixnet @blankjournal

[its-alittleobsessed]

Orpheus and Eurydice but it's Dean and Castiel coming out of the empty. Jesus Christ. JESUS. is there a fic like that?

Like imagine Dean, smack dab in the middle of nothing. Pitch black for miles and miles and the empty speaks to him, says, "I'll give him back on one condition."

And Dean nodding, desperate to it, "Anything."

And the empty smiles, though it doesn't have a face or body or soul, Dean can hear it smile, can feel it in the molecules around him, when it says, "Do not look back."

There's a small light at the end of nothing, so miniscule it looks like a grain of rice. The empty points it out, commands, "Go."

And Dean doesn't move. The grain of rice is so small and it is so quiet around him. "Go?"

"Yes, go."

The empty is nothing. It is nothing in nothing. A black hole sucking up another black hole—that is what the empty is. Dean’s inside it, inside the hole inside another hole, looking for a guy who shines brighter than the sun on a cloudless day. 

It’s so fucking quiet. Dean shakes his head, “I don’t—”

“You don’t trust that I’ve placed him behind you?” The empty snarls, groans, and festers, “You don’t trust that he’ll follow you?”

The first step he takes is heavy. It weighs and echoes across the great expanse of hollowness. It is not followed by another immediate step. He is the only thing breathing, the only noise rising, and he asks, because he has to know, “Cas?”

There is no reply. 

“He’s behind you.” The empty assures. There’s a tilt to its voice like it might be lying. Or maybe it’s amused. Dean can’t tell, his heart’s beating too loudly in his ears to tell the difference. 

The second, third, and fourth steps are just as earth quaking as the first. He walks—drags his feet below him, closer to the blinding light leading them home, still so far away, still the size of a mere flame. 

“It was really fucked up. What you did.” Dean says, because he can’t look, and he can’t hear, but he can still talk. “What kind of an asshole does that? What kind of a—” He swallows, keeps a steady rhythm foot after foot, “You said. What you said. Why’d you say it?”

He’d practiced this in his room a few times. What he’d say if he ever saw Cas again. At least then, the walls would hum back. They'd stare back and hold him up if he couldn’t keep his knees from buckling. But here, in this vacuum, what is there to rely on? 

“Thought I was dyin’. ” Dean confesses, the light has turned into the size of a dime, and he keeps staring it down, determined, “Watchin’ you get taken, I mean. Felt like—felt like you took my heart with you down here, y’know?” 

There aren’t any footsteps behind him. There’s no flutter of wings or exhale or exasperated sigh. He’s—he feels alone. 

“Couldn’t go on without you, man. S’why I’m here.” Why is it so fucking quiet? Dean wasn’t this quiet when Cas said his piece. He’d been frozen, maybe, but not quiet. Never quiet. “I—I need you to be there. I can’t—don’t know how I’m supposed to go on if you aren't there.”

The empty’s stopped replying, too. The rice turned into dime and now it’s the size of a baseball and it’s still so fucking. Hollow. And the empty likes to play games doesn’t it? Likes to trick poor schmucks like Dean who are desperate hopeful bastards. 

With Cas in the room, there’d be electricity around them. A spark of something. But now, Jesus, now, there isn’t—the air’s so fucking stiff and horrible. 

Dean reaches an arm back, still walking, “Gimme your hand.” 

No one touches him.

“Empty didn’t say nothin’ about skin on skin, man. C’mon.” His steps stutter and his hand shakes, “C’mon.”

The light is the size of a window. He’s getting closer—no, no, no they’re getting closer. Both of them. ‘Cause Cas is there. He’s right there. He’s—

“I just wanna know you’re okay.” He looks at the ground, tries to cheat, tries to find another set of feet with his peripheral vision. “M’not leavin’ without you, you dick. So you better—you better gimme a fuckn’ sign or I’ll stay here. Forever if I gotta.”

His voice doesn’t even bounce off the fucking walls. There are no walls. Or feet or breaths or hands touching his own. There is no answer to any of his questions. And he stretches his arm as far as it can go behind him, as far as his broken muscles can, he begs, “Please, Cas.”

The light has grown to the size of a door and it’s too quiet. Too vacant and blank. So unlike Cas at the end of everything. And Dean can’t leave—he can’t just—he came here for someone and if he’s not—if this is a trick then, then—

“Please.” 

One more step. That’s all he needs. He’s one step away, just one, but Cas isn’t answering. He isn’t answering or touching Dean’s hand and the empty lies.

It’s too quiet, the empty lies, and Dean can’t leave without him. He can’t, he can’t, he can’t and the door is right there, it’s right there but Dean can’t leave, he can’t leave ‘cause Cas isn’t behind him, he was never behind him, and he turns, oh God, Dean turns around and—

Cas smiles, that soft deep smile of his that edges on a little sad, he tilts his head, so loving and forgiving, “I love you too.”

And then he’s gone. Ripped away one more time.

[sanjuwrites]

wip wednesday

thank you to @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut, @heartstringsduet, @sznofthesticks, and @bonheur-cafe for the tags!

enjoy this cute little snippet of my girldad first prince fic that won't leave me alone

“Baby, I’m home!” Alex comes flying through the garage door, holding a briefcase and a bag of Indian takeout, “And I brought dinner.” 

Alex’s smile grows wider on his face when he hears the pitter-patter of little feet running up the kitchen, and he sets his bags down on the counter, crouching down as his daughter collides into his shoulder, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

“Hola, mija,” he says into her hair, picking her up as he stands, swinging her around. “Papa missed you!”

Alex places her on his hip as he pulls his tie loose, “Where’s Daddy?” 

“Right here, love,” Henry turns into the kitchen, laughing. “Your daughter seems to have me beat in speed, though.” Henry leans in and presses a kiss to Alex’s lips, “Hi.”

“Hi, sweetheart,” Alex says, putting Elena down as she wriggles in his hold, “Alright, alright, I’ll set you down. Are you hungry?”

She ignores him, running back into the living room, where David is curled up on the couch. 

Henry wraps his arm around Alex’s waist, and Alex presses a kiss onto Henry’s temple, “Baby, is there a reason our daughter is running around the house in a bear onesie?”

Henry sighs, resting his forehead on Alex’s shoulder, “Your sister and her wife showed up with the onesie, and Elena decided that she needed to try it on immediately. Didn’t even make it to the bathroom to put it on.” 

Alex laughs softly, wrapping his arms around Henry’s waist, “Well, at least she’s cute. I have fried rice and raitha for Elena, and then vindaloo with garlic naan.”

“And here I was thinking we needed to dip into our frozen meals,” Henry pulls back, leaning his head back for a kiss. Alex gives it to him willingly, biting at his earlobe. 

“Go away, you cretin,” Henry laughs, “We need to feed your child before she throws a fit.” Henry steps away, pulling takeout containers out of the bag. “I can’t wait until Elena eats something that isn’t rice.”

Alex stands behind Henry, wrapping his arms around his waist, “So, she’s my kid when she’s a troublemaker, huh? Mom says that I didn’t eat anything but rice until I was eight, so I wouldn’t get too excited.”

Henry groans, resting his head back against Alex’s shoulder, “So I have four more years of this to look forward to?”

open tag + @theghostofashton, @chaotictarlos, @carlos-in-glasses, @reyesstrand, @birdclowns, @paperstorm, @orchidscript, @liminalmemories21, @fallout-mars, and @alrightbuckaroo!

[rianafying]

i’m sitting on the 51st floor of my friend’s apartment building, it’s a lounge area that looks over melbourne cbd and it is gorgeous, but the lights in this room are blinding. i’ve had a really long day and i’ll probably have an even longer one tomorrow but i don’t wanna leave this building. i feel safe here. i don’t wanna go back home. home is representative of my source of anxiety. home is messy and dirty. home is where the tasks await me. and i just can’t. so with my 48% battery on my phone, i will stay here for as long as i can. it’s already 10:31 pm. but it’s okay my house is a 5 minute walk away. i feel incredibly lonely tonight, like i’ve been craving some sort of romance. and ( very embarrassing ) physical touch. especially when i see or hear about other people in love, it makes me feel so alone. but this is not the time for me to date anyone. and i don’t really like the people i know. i have a therapy session booked for day after tomorrow, basically the day after this assignment is due. so hopefully my brain will be a little clearer by then.

i feel really sleepy and tired even though i overslept the last two days. it’s just that time of the month. pms and psoriasis. causing fatigue. i chopped off a lot of my hair today. didn’t really think it through but it’s fine. idrc. same when i dyed it black. i just do things and it doesn’t matter. it’s just hair.

my friend is really lucky she gets to live in this building. it’s quite a lot more expensive than my apartment. the one i live in is already too expensive for me but somehow i’m managing.

i sat super still for an hour so the motion detector wouldn’t catch me and the lights dimmed down and i stayed by the window for 2 more hours. i really didn’t wanna come back home but i was hungry so i did.

i had one of those chicken curry pies from woolies, i only bought them because they were on sale but damn they are so good, but normally they’re priced at 8$ for 2 pies which is out of my budget :((. but it’s okay i can make my own and freeze them.

2.75+4 + ingredients i already have i can make like a whole bunch of curry chicken pies. but it might not be as good as the store bought ones cause my little toaster that i use as a makeshift oven kind of sucks.

im still hungry, the little pie did not fill me up enough, which makes sense because i only had two tiny pieces of sushi in the last 30 hours. i’m craving another pie but i don’t have any. also something about having food with mayo makes me feel gross and oily. like it’s all over my face. i can’t stand it anymore. i’m so tired. i know ill be getting my periods soon because i have been getting cramps all day.

i finally found the time to open the bag of stuff my uncle dropped off because they’re moving and they no longer need em. there’s a whole bunch of sauces and spices in there. i wonder if my cousin bought these cause these are good ingredients. i’m kinda hungry but there’s nothing to cook at home. there’s pasta but it’s not gonna be substantial enough. i’ve been wanting to buy some parmesan for the longest time but it’s so expensive, and i go through it pretty fast because it’s too good not to. i also kind of like goat cheese, not really in pasta more with like fruit on toast. there’s a thing of frozen shrimp in my fridge afaik, but it’s stuck solid in with the ice layer in my fridge and i wrestled with it but i couldn’t get it out. i’ll just dump it out when i clean my fridge and let everything thaw. it will be okay. it was old anyway.

i’m just so hungry. but i’m just too lazy to make anything or get creative, or eat something i cooked. i wish there was like a sandwich or something i could eat rn. well there’s rice, surumi, wasabi, soy sauce, sriracha, mayo, chilli oil, carrots, and nori. but i just wish i had some cucumber. i’ll go buy some tomorrow along w some cooked shrimp. maybe the frozen cutlets. i kind of miss them.

[bluiex]

ANON IS SO BIG BRAIN W DEMON SCAR N GRIAN CORNERING MUMBO

Hejfiwkrnicosnrjcieirfnfickakqowoorotogkcnxnz sorry I made it angsty af

Mumbo being so very turned on but also very concerned. This isn’t like Grian at all, and the sudden change is alarming.

When it’s time for the rice he’s making to simmer, he twists around to face Grian. The man in question immediately pins him to the countertop.

Mumbo can tell something is off. Were Grians eyes always tinted red? Were his nails always so long? His teeth always so sharp? That’s not even mentioning the looming presence in the room. The hairs in his neck stand on end and honestly, he’s scared.

When Grian winds his hands around Mumbos waist, not so subtly pressing their bodies together, Mumbo clears his throat and tries to push him back. He’s doesn’t know what’s going on, but he can tell Grian isn’t in his right mind.

Grian doesn’t go far though, and just returns even closer a moment later. It takes another, stronger shove from Mumbo to push him back fully. Grian pouts and crosses his arms.

To say Mumbo is shaken is an understatement. He needs to get himself under control before he does something they’ll both regret come tomorrow. “What’s going on?” Mumbo asks finally.

“What do you mean?” Grian steps closer, a grin growing.

“You’re acting different, mate. And your eyes are a bit red. Are you high or something?” Mumbo stays stiff as a board, as jittery as a rabbit.

“No,” Grian laughs. Still moving closer, the shadows seemed to warp around him, “No, I’ve never felt more sober, Mumbo, never felt more like myself.” He extends a hand towards him, palm up.

Mumbo flinches back, stumbling in the process. He just barely manages to stay upright, except he’s now much farther from Grian. Which is good. However, the intense shiver of dread that drips down his spine is decidedly not. His instincts scream at him to run.

Grian’s face flickers to annoyed for a moment, and he grumbles something. The oppressive feeling vanishes as quick as it came. Mumbo takes a shaky breath. He feels like he’s been made prey, and Grian is about to hunt him.

Grian sighs. “I love you, Mumbo.”

Mumbos heart is in his throat, but he reminds himself that they’re friends. That Grians his friend. It’s platonic. “I love you too, mate, but you’re scaring me a bit.”

“No,” Grian pinches his forehead before turning to face him fully. “I’m in love with you, Mumbo.” He moves towards him, and Mumbo backs up. “I’ve been in love with you for years! You’re the other half of my soul, the one I could never live without.”

Tears push at Mumbos eyes as the sense of wrong gets worse. Grian continues to ramble about how much Mumbo means to him, but he’s not listening. His head is ringing as Grian stalks closer. Eventually Mumbos back hits the wall and there’s no where to run.

“Why?” Mumbo manages to ask.

Grian’s face twists into confusion. “Why do I love you? Mumbo, where do I even-“

“Why are you doing this to me?” Mumbo croaks out, making Grian stop.

“What?” Grian takes another step closer. Mumbo presses himself against the wall.

Mumbo tried to swallow back tears. “I- you stop wanting to have movie night, months ago. And then you stop wanting to hang out in person. And then you stop picking up calls, and all your texts are one word. And now, Grian I haven’t heard from you in weeks, and you burst in here and start groping me and declaring your love for me. What am I supposed to think?! Am I just some toy to you? I can’t trust what you’re saying to me; this isn’t you!”

Grian had frozen, inches away from touching Mumbo, who was shaking as tears had begun to fall down his cheeks.

“I’m… It’s me, Mumbo,” Grian said finally, sounding desperate, “I promise, I’m not messing with you, I don’t- I didn’t mean to- I didn’t realize I’d been gone for so long. I promise I’m totally sober too. But, I’ll make it up to you! Because I love you!” He hesitantly reached forward to take Mumbos hand.

Mumbo jerked back with a pained noise. “Stop,” he closed his eyes, “Please stop touching me.”

Grian’s face crumpled, not that Mumbo saw. “I-“

“Please just go,” Mumbo begged, adding much quieter: “You’re scaring me.”

“Okay,” Grian whispered. He shuffled back. As soon as he was out of Mumbos personal bubble, the man dropped to his knees with a sob. Burying his hands in his hair and his face in his forearms, curled up and shaking.

As much as Grian longed to lean forward and comfort him, he forced himself to walk to the door. As he closed it behind himself, he felt Scar join him. He locked the door for good measure.

“Ungrateful,” Scar growled immediately after they got home, “He doesn’t-“

Grian didn’t hesitate to smack Scar. Hard. The demon stumbled in surprise.

“Don’t even start,” Grian snarled, “He’s right; I treated him like a piece of meat just now, and you weren’t helping! In fact, he liked it up until you decided to be all dramatic and try to help!”

“I thought you people liked the fear part,” Scar frowned.

“No, dumbass, I like the fear part. Obviously Mumbo did not! And I told you to let me handle it until I signaled you!” Grian groaned. “And now he probably hates me! God fucking damnit! I’m so stupid.” He covered his face with his hands as he collapsed onto the couch.

Scar stood there awkwardly, trying to think of something to say. Humans are always so complex… and then he noticed the soft sniffling coming from his mate. He kneels next to him at once, making an inquisitive noise.

Grian sniffles and lets a small keening noise bubble out as he cries into his hands. His body shakes as he lets the guilt churn within him.

— abridged anon, who couldn’t help themselves sorry

WAAAAH MUMBO NOOO

GRIAN NOOOO

*rattles Scar around like a maraca*

I love it. I love it so much. now make them kiss and make up. This is a threat /j /nf

[justicerikai]

Charisma House - Superhuman Sharehouse Story “Charisma” - #28 Chaotic House

Please read alongside listening to the drama track on Youtube.

TL note:

Iori is referring to a way of “ikejime” at some point. Ikejime is, as Wikipedia describes it, “one of the more humane methods of killing fish which also maintains the quality of its meat“. The one he talks about is the ice technique one specifically, where a fish is frozen to death.

(Iori walks up and knocks on the door)

Iori: Rikai-kun?

Iori: …I’m coming in.

(Iori enters Rikai’s room)

Iori: Rikai-kun are you holding up? Are you still feeling unwell?

Rikai: Uuum uuum

Iori: I made some rice porridge…

Rikai: Uuum uuum

Iori: Still not snapping out of it?

Rikai: Uuum uuum

Iori: What kind of condition could this be, someone has to explain this

(The others walk in)

Fumiya: Is he okay?

Iori: Ah, it’s everyone

Amahiko: Rikai-san, keep it together.

Ohse: You are needed in this world. I’ll become the sacrifice instead.

Terra: Rikai-kun has died!? No way!

Amahiko: No, I don’t think he’s dying, Terra-san

Sarukawa: I totally don’t give a shit here

Fumiya: Has he been bedridden this entire time?

Iori: Yes. All we can do is let him rest now. C’mon, let’s get out of the room everyone

Iori: Rikai-kun, give a shout if there’s anything

Ohse: You have to come back to us.

Rikai: Uuum uuum. Order is uuuum, green. Uuum, order….

Terra: It’s concerning

Ohse: Yes

Amahiko: Nevertheless, what in the world had happened to him the other night?

Sarukawa: No damn clue. My memory’s kinda fuzzy on that part

Iori: I can’t remember it well

Amahiko: Still, we had seen something during that time

Everyone: We all saw it

Terra: If I remember it right, Rikai-kun kind of became really stylish

Fumiya: He was out of this world

Iori: He was amazing

Ohse: He was terrific

Amahiko: He was sexy

Sarukawa: What was it

Terra: Maybe it’s that, like because of that he became cool and he’s like this right now from the backlash

Amahiko: I see. In other words, that made him like this and then that.

Iori: Like this he became like that way

Ohse: So you mean from that he was that then that

Terra: Something like BAAANG right? And then something like WUAAAH right? Like that?

Sarukawa: So that’s what it was then. I see now

Iori: Well nothing to be gained from worrying about things that you don’t understand.

Fumiya: You’re making a grave mistake if you think that you understand everything by contemplating about society after all.

Everyone: Yep

Fumiya: Everyone in the same boat?

Everyone: We’re in the same boat.

Fumiya: Then we’ll be putting an end to this subject right here.

Everyone: All done.

Fumiya: Dismissed.

Everyone: Dismisseeeeed.

Sarukawa: Maaan~ I’m glad ‘bout it though!

Everyone: Eh?

Sarukawa: That noisy as hell moron ain’t here right? Whatta relief!

Iori: Hey- Saru-chan

Sarukawa: Ain’t all of you guys happy about it too, how you won’t be hearing that cringy whistle either, and now we can live however we’d like to

Sarukawa: We got freedom!

Amahiko: Sarukawa-kun. Tsk!

Ohse: How could you…

Sarukawa: Yeaah~ this feels great. I’m gonna pick a fight. See ya

Terra: What an ape.

Ohse: Atrocious

Iori: Then everyone, the capable Rikai-kun will be absent for a moment but keep it in moderation. We’ll pull off living properly on our own!

Everyone: Yeees~!

(Everything goes wrong)

Sarukawa: Haaah, I’m starving. I’ll get something whipped up quickly.

Sarukawa: Oi, Io! I’m sta-

(Sarukawa walks into pure chaos)

Sarukawa: EEEEH!!!!???

Sarukawa: The hell’s this!?

Sarukawa: This whole place is a dump! What happened!

Iori: Saru-chan…. Fuck me up…

Sarukawa: Io!? What’s wrong!

Iori: Put me in ice…

Iori: I yearn to be put in ice…

Iori: Drain me of my life….

Iori: As if I’m a freshwater fish!

Sarukawa: The hell are you going on about! Get your shit together!

Ohse: Slave-kuuuun~! I’ll do it for you~! Let’s die together! Ahahaha!

Sarukawa: Oi cut that shit out, stop it! He’s gonna die!

Amahiko: Good evening everyone. World ■■■■ Man, Tendou Amahiko here. Now then all living things great and small, let’s have ■■■■.

Terra: Hey look at me! So cool. So beautiful. I’m going to-! I’m on the verge of ■■■■ from myself!

Sarukawa: STOP!!

Fumiya: Kei. You got ■■■■? You’re interested right, in dr■■■■.

Sarukawa: OOOOOIIIII!!!

Sarukawa: WHAT THE FUCK! This shit became Chaotic House instead!

(Everyone going haywire)

Sarukawa: RIKAAAAIIIIII

Sarukawa: COME BACK ALREADYYYYYYYYYY

TL note:

Fumiya specifically mentions kimeseku, meaning sex and drugs. However due to the limitations of the censoring & it being quick, I had to keep it to drugs being abbreviated without the sex part.

[miikaji]

uggh…

struggling with focus today, there’s so much i want to get done but my mind is moving so fast to the point where all i can do is just sit still trying to figure out what’s the best way to go about things…

i need to clean my depression mess in my room, first thing i told myself was to get rid of the big trash first (pizza boxes and amazon boxes) since they take up so much space and i want to start making better habits of stretching (thank you tomo for the yoga stuff bc i really needed it)

i also need to make calls and see if family or friends can spot me some coins until i get paid so i can get some groceries. the groceries i have left that are mine is a frozen pizza (that’s gonna be my lunch and dinner tonight), rice, half a bag of frozen veggies and then 18 count of eggs i never touched yet. the only meals i could think to make with the rest is fried rice, but that’s only gonna last so long (maybe three meals max).

i also need to start stretching more and working on my overall health. i am the most unhealthiest i’ve been because i can feel it and i hate it. i can’t walk for long without feeling pain and i blame myself for sitting all damn day. my feet have been swelling a lot lately despite not eating lots of sugar? so i’m concerned about that. my back feels so crazy lol like i feel like it’s gonna take months of stretching before i can bend over without it hurting or standing up straight without it hurting. i don’t necessarily want to lose weight, but just get healthier.

my brain causes so many road blocks for me, like for example, i want to walk more but i can’t because my brain is just “well we need better shoes for that”. which is true, but then i never find shoes i feel would be comfortable enough or i just forget because of the constant cycle of needing to work to survive (i live in los angeles making minimum wage and none of my family lives here to help me. i am on my own.)

and that’s just the wellness stuff on my mind lol like i didn’t even get to content creation yet… i need to stream more, make more videos, make more content.. it’s what i enjoy yet i’m not doing it. i need to stay creative or i’ll just succumb to my depression :(

anyway, i’ll leave this with a pic of tommie, my cat i rescued. he learned that if he headbutts my face or chest when i’m sleeping, i’ll wake up and pet him lol this was the first thing i saw today

[survey--s]

442.

Do you ever just feel like you need to be alone for some reason? Absolutely. I need a good couple of hours of alone time everyday in order to keep my sanity - it’s one of the reasons I’d never have children.

When was the last time you wore something totally inappropriate for the weather? Does this happen often? I can’t remember. It doesn’t happen all that often as my job is outdoors so I check the weather religiously and always have spare stuff in my car.

The last time you went out of the house, where were you going and what did you do? That was for work yesterday. I left at 8.30, worked until 2pm, then went to the Post Office and to collect Archie then it was back home for lunch.

When was the last time someone cancelled plans on you? Were you annoyed? Emma had to cancel a riding lesson before Christmas. I couldn’t really be annoyed as the arena was frozen so we couldn’t ride anyway lol.

Do you have a friend that has a tendency to “dump” you whenever they get a new partner? No. I wouldn’t be friends with someone like that.

Would you ever want to go on vacation with just one of your parents? Sure, I did that all the time growing up. We often did 2-3 holidays a year as a family, then I’d do one with my mum and another with my dad. Dad and I normally went walking or skiing, and mum and I would go to Australia to see her family over there.

In summer, do you prefer to wear dresses or shorts and tops? Or maybe something else? I prefer dresses but they’re not really practical with my job, so I tend to wear shorts and t-shirts.

Has someone ever tried to start an argument with you over Facebook? What happened? Sure - mostly I just ignore them.

Have you ever had an unusual type of milk (eg. oat, rice, almond)? Yeah, my dad only drinks oat milk, and I went through a phase of drinking a loy of soy milk for some reason.

If you could experience life as a Disney princess for a week, which princess would you pick and why? Ariel because I could be a mermaid, duh. How many cans of soda would you say you drink in a week, if any at all? Probably one a day on average.

When you’re at home, do you spend most of your time in your room? No, I spend most of my waking moments downstairs in the living room. I only really use our room for sleeping or occasionally watching TV when I’m tired.

If you like to sleep in late, have your parents ever told you off for doing so? I don’t live with my parents but it’s not something they ever had an issue with. How much stuff do you take with you when you go on vacation for a week? Way too much lol. I never wear half of it.

How old is your oldest living relative? I think she’s in her late eighties now. The oldest any relative made it to was 97 and that was my grandma.

Do you know anyone who is an alcoholic? How has that affected you? Yes, both my grandparents on my dad’s side, and also a client of mine. It killed them all in the end. My dad went tee-total because of his parents’ behaviour and as an adult I don’t really drink much. I have a few drinks at Christmas but most of the year I don’t touch the stuff.

Could you willingly live on a vegan diet? No.

If you’re a fan of Harry Potter, are you sad that there’ll never be another book or movie? No. They ruined it by doing the Fantastic Beasts films IMO - Secrets of Dumbledore was just flat-out awful.

If you’re an only child, do you wish you had siblings? I used to want siblings, but as I’m adult I’m quite happy not to have any.

How long have you had the shirt you’re wearing? Uh, I’m not sure. Maybe 3 years or so.

What happened last time you got drunk? It was our wedding night - we had champagne in the hot tub, went out for fish and chips and then had loads of cocktails, hahah.

When’s the last time you straightened your hair? About a month ago.

Do you bite your toe nails? No. I couldn’t even if I wanted to.

Last thing you said out loud? Come on then, come have a cuddle.

Last time you laughed your head off? Earlier on today.

What do you want right this second? I kinda need a wee lol. But I’m comfy and the dog has just settled so I probably won’t be getting up just yet.

How are you sitting? On the sofa with my legs out in front of me and my ankles crossed.

Your mood? Relaxed.

Did you sleep alone last night?  Nope.

Do you plan on sleeping in tomorrow? Yeah, for sure.

Do you find piercings attractive? I don’t really pay much attention either way. Some attractive guys have piercings, so do some unattractive guys.

What were you doing last night at midnight? Sleeping.

Will you have sexual intercourse within the next two weeks? Maybe.

How many cigarettes have you smoked today? Zero.

Do you have a hard time admitting you’re wrong? Hmm, sometimes - I’m more stubborn than anything else.

Do you like potato chips? Yes. A bit too much lol.

Do you give out second chances way too easily? Nope.

[c-is-for-circinate]

For a long, large part of my life, being queer in a media landscape--finding queerness in a media landscape--has meant theft.

I'm a Fandom Old, somehow, these days, older than most and younger than some, in that way that's grown associated with grumpy crotchetyness and shotguns on porches and back in my day, we had to wade through our Yahoo Groups mailing lists uphill both ways, boring and irrelevant anecdotes from Back In Those Days when homophobia clearly worked differently than it does now, probably because we weren't trying hard enough. I've seen a lot of stories through the years. I've read a lot of fanfic. (More days than not, for the past twenty years. I've read a lot of fanfic.)

When people my age start groaning and sighing at conversations about representation and queerbaiting, when we roll our eyes and drag all the old war stories out again in the face of AO3 is terrible and Not Good Enough, so often what we say is: you Young Folks Today have no idea how hard, how scary, how limiting it was to be queer anywhere Back In Those Days. Including online, maybe especially online, including in a media landscape that hated us so much more than any one you've ever known. And that is true. Always and everywhere, again and again, it's true, we remember, it's true.

We don't talk so much about the joy of it.

Online fan spaces were my very first queer communities, ever. I was thirteen, I was fourteen, I was fifteen--I was a lonely, over-precocious "gifted kid" two years too young for my grade level in an all-girls' Catholic school in the suburbs--I lived in a world where gay people were a rumor and an insult and a news story about murder. I was straight, of course, obviously, because real people were straight and anyway I was weird enough already--I couldn't be two things strange, couldn't be gay too, but--well, I could read the stories. I could feel things about that. I would have those stories to help me, a few years later, when I knew I couldn't call myself straight any more.

And those stories were theft. There was never any doubt about that. We wrote disclaimers at the top of every fic, with the specter of Anne Rice's lawyers around every corner. We hid in back-corners of the internet, places you could only find through a link from a link from a link on somebody else's recs page, being grateful for the tiny single-fandom archives when you found them, grateful for the webrings where they existed. It was theft, all of it, the stories about characters we did not own, the videotaped episodes on your best friend's VHS player, one single episode pulled off of Limewire over the course of three days.

It was theft, we knew, to even try and find ourselves in these stories to begin with. How many fics did I read in those days about two men who'd always been straight, except for each other, in this one case, when love was stronger than sexual orientation? We stole our characters away from the heterosexual lives they were destined to have. We stole them away from writers and producers and TV networks who work overtime to shower them in Babes of the Week, to pretend that queerness was never even an option. This wasn't given to us. This wasn't meant for us. This wasn't ours to have, ever, ever in the first place. But we took it anyway.

And oh, my friends, it was glorious.

We took it. We stole. And again and again, for years and years and years, we turned that theft into an art. We looked for every opening, every crack in every sidewalk where a little sprout of queerness might grow, and we claimed it for our own and we grew whole gardens. We grew so sly and so skilled with it, learning to spot the hints of oh, this could be slashy in every new show and movie to come our way. Do you see how they left these character dynamics here, unattended on the table? How ripe they are for the pocketing. Here, I'll help you carry them. We'll make off with these so-called straight boys, and we only have to look back if somebody sets out another scene we want for our own.

We were thieves, all of us, and that was fine and that was fair, because to exist as queer in the world was theft to begin with. Stolen time, stolen moments--grand larceny of the institution of marriage, breaking and entering to rob my mother's hopes for grandchildren. Every shoplifted glance at the wrong person in the locker room (and it didn't matter if we never peeked, never dared, they called us out on it anyway). Every character in every fic whose queerness became a crime against this ex-wife, that new love interest. Every time we dared steal ourselves away from the good straight partners we didn't want to date.

And: we built ourselves a den, we thieves, wallpapered in stolen images and filled to the brim with all the words we'd written ourselves. We built ourselves a home, and we filled it with joy. Every vid and art and fic, every ship, every squee. Over and over, every straight boy protagonist who abandoned all womankind for just this one exception with his straight boy protagonist partner found gay orgasms and true love at the end.

Over and over, we said: this isn't ours, this isn't meant to be ours, you did not give this to us--but we are taking it anyway. We will burglarize you for building blocks and build ourselves a palace. These stories and this place in the world is not for us, but we exist, and you can't stop us. It's ours now, full of color and noise, a thousand peoples' ideas mosaic'ed together in celebration. We made this, and it will never be just yours again. You won't ever truly get it back, no matter how many lawyers you send, not completely. We keep what we steal.

.

Things shifted over time, of course. That's good. That's to be celebrated. Nobody should have to steal to survive. It should not be a crime, should not feel like a crime, to find yourself and your space in the world.

There were always content creators who could slip a little wink in when they laid out their wares, oh what's this over here, silly me leaving this unattended where anybody could grab it, of course there might be more over by the side door if you come around the alleyway (but if anybody asks, you didn't get this from ME). We all watched Xena marry Gabrielle, in body language and between the lines. We sat around and traded theories and rumors about whether the people writing Due South knew what they were doing when they sent their buddy cops off into the frozen north alone together at the end of the show, if they'd done it on purpose, if they knew. But over the years, slowly, thankfully, the winks became less sly.

A teenage boy put his hand on another teenage boy's hand and said, you move me, and they kissed on network TV, in a prime-time show, on FOX, and the world didn't burn down. Here and there, where they wanted to, where they could without getting caught by their bosses and managers, content creators stopped subtly nudging people around the back door and started saying, "Here. This is on offer here too, on purpose. You get to have this, too."

And of course, of course that came with a whole host of problems too. Slide around to the back door but you didn't get this from me turned into it's an item on our special menu, totally legit, you've just got to ask because the boss throws a fit if we put it out front. Shopkeepers and content creators started advertising on the sly, come buy your fix here!, hiding the fine print that says you still have to take what you've purchased home and rebuild it with your semi-legal IKEA hacks. Maybe they'll consider listing that Destiel or Sterek as a full-service menu item next year. Is that Crowley/Aziraphale the real thing or is it lite?

And those problems are real and the conversations are worth having, and it's absolutely fair to be frustrated that you can't find the ship you want on sale in anything like your color and size in a vast media landscape packed full of discount hetships and fast-fashion m/f. It's fair to be angry. It's fair to be frustrated. Queerbait is a word that exists for a reason.

There's a part of me that hurts, though, every time the topic comes up. It's a confusing, bad-mannered part of me, but it's still very real. And it's not because I'm fawning for crumbs, trying to be the Good, Non-Threatening Gay. It's not that I'm scared and traumatized by the thought of what might happen if we dare raise our voices and ask for attention. (Well. Not mostly. I'll always remember being quiet and scared and fifteen, but it's been a long two decades since then. I know how to ask for a hell of a lot more now.)

It's because I remember that cozy, plush-wallpapered den of joyful thieves. I remember you keep what you steal.

Every single time--every time--when a story I love sets a couple of characters out on a low, unguarded table, perfectly placed to be pilfered on the sly and taken home and smushed together like a couple of dolls, my very first thought is always, always joy. Always, that instinct says, yay! Says, this is ours now. As soon as I go home and crawl into that pillow-fort den, my instincts say, I will surely find people already at work combing through spoils and finding new ways to combine them, new ways to make them our own. I know there's fic for that. I've already seen fic for that, and I wasn't really interested last time, but the new store display's got my brain churning, and I can't wait to see what the crew back at the hideout does with this.

Every time, that's where my brain goes. And oh, when I realize the display's put out on purpose, that somebody snuck in a legitimate special menu item, when the proprietor gives me the nod and wink and says, you don't have to come around the side, I know it's not much but here--there is so much joy and relief and hope in me from that! Oh, what we can make with these beautiful building blocks. Oh what a story we can craft from the pieces. Oh, the things we can cobble together. Look at that, this one's a little skimpy on parts but we can supplement it, this one's got a whole outline we can fill in however we want. This one technically comes semi-preassembled, and that's boring as shit and a pain to take back apart, but that's fine, we'll manage. We're artists and thieves. I bet someone's pulling out the AU saw to cut it to pieces already.

And then I get back to our den, which has moved addresses a dozen times over the years and mostly hangs out on Tumblr now (and the roof leaks and the landlord's sketchy as fuck but at least they don't charge rent, and we've made worse places our own). And I show up, ready for joy--ready for a dozen other people who saw that low-hanging fruit on that unguarded table, who got the nod and wink about the special menu item, who're ready to get so excited about this newest haul. Did you see what we picked up? The theft was so easy, practically begging to be stolen. The last owner was an idiot with no idea what to do with it. The last owner knew exactly what it could become, bless their heart, under a craftsman with more time on their hands, so they looked away on purpose at just the right time to let me take it home. I show up every time ready for our space, the place that fed me on joy and self-confidence when I was fifteen and starving. The place that taught me, yes, we are thieves, because it is RIGHT to take what we need, and the beautiful things we create are their own justification. We are thieves, and that's wonderful, because nothing is handed to us and that means we get to build our own palaces. We get to keep everything we steal.

I go home, and even knowing the world is different, my instincts and heart are waiting for that. And I walk in the door, and I look at my dash, and I glance over at twitter, and--

And people are angry, again. Angry at the slim pickings from the hidden special menu. So, so tired and angry, at once again having to steal.

And they're right to be! Sometimes (often, maybe) I think they're angry at the wrong people--more angry with the shopkeeper who offers the bite-sized sampler platter of side characters or sneaks their queer content in on the special menu than the ones who don't include it at all. But it's not wrong to be mad that Disney's once again advertising their First Gay Character only to find out it's a tiny sprinkle of a one-line extra on an otherwise straight sundae. It's not wrong to be furious at the world because you've spent your whole life needing to be a thief to survive. It's far from wrong. I'm angry about it too.

But this was my den of thieves, my chop shop, my makerspace. Growing up in fandom, I learned to pick the locks on stories and crack the safes of subtext at the very same time I learned to create. They were the same thing, the same art. We are thieves, my heart says, we are thieves, and that's what makes us better than the people we steal from. We deconstruct every time we create. We build better things out of the pieces.

And people are angry that the pre-fab materials are too hard to find, the pickings too slim, the items on sale too limited? Yes, of course they are, of course they should be--but my heart. Oh, my heart. Every single time, just a little bit, it breaks.

Of course the stories are terrible (they have always been terrible). Of course they are, but we are thieves. We steal the best parts and cobble them back together and what we make is better than it was before. The craftsman's eye that cases a story for weak points, for blank spaces, for anywhere we can fit a crowbar and pry apart this casing--that's skill and art and joy. Of course we shouldn't have to, of course we shouldn't have to, but I still love it. I still want it, crave it. I still thrill every time I see it, a story with hairline cracks that we can work open with clever hands to let the queer in.

That used to be cause for celebration, around here. I ask him to go back to the ruins of Aeor with me, two men together alone on an expedition in the frozen north, it feels like a gift. And I understand why some people take it as an insult. I understand not good enough. I understand how something can feel like a few drops of water to someone dying of thirst, like a slap in the face. If it was so easy to sneak it hidden onto the special menu, to place it on the unguarded side table for someone else to run off to, why not let it sit out front and center in the first place? I know it's frustrating. It should be. We should fight. We should always fight. I know why.

But my heart, oh, my heart. My heart only knows what it's been taught. My heart sees, this thing right here, the proprietor left it there for you with a nod and a wink because they Get It. It's not put together yet, but it's better that way anyway. It's so full of pieces to pull apart and reassemble. I bet they've got a whole mosaic wall going up at home already. We can bring it home and make it OURS, more than it was ever theirs, forget half of what it came from and grow a new garden in what remains.

And I go home to find anger, and my heart breaks instead.

[kechiwrites]

katsuki, izuku, and shouto as types of doting dads

🌿 gender neutral!reader

🌿 sfw drabbles, lots of domestic fluff under the cut, 

🌿  warning: bakugo swearing, of course

🌿 w.c: 1.2k (approx. 400 each) 

🌿 a/n: thank u to my angel @mindninjax​ for naming katsu’s tiktok. sorry about the formatting, tumblr hates me.

katsuki

Bakugo’s kids are not spoiled, fuck you for even insinuating it.

Bakugo’s kids get what they need.

And what they need is a four tier bento box, every school day.

Insulated, of course, because “they aren’t fucking animals.”

And what starts as Bakugo just being a very attentive father, grows into you recording him coming home from his early morning run and grumbling while he puts on the frilly, lemon yellow apron your kids got him for Christmas two years ago, which grows into him carefully arranging a camera setup over your kitchen countertops, “because you’re the shittiest director alive, dumbass.” Which leads to the tiktok account dine-amight, where Bakugo uploads his intermediate-level character bentos, full to bursting with perfectly seasoned rice balls shaped like All Might and Hello Kitty, star and moon shaped fruits and veggies and occasionally, when your kids beg for them, Bakugo’s famous rainbow mini pancakes.

And of course a pro-hero with a reputation like Bakugo doing anything domestic is worth coverage and acclaim, blowing the account’s followers into the hundreds of thousands in a week.

In fact, people are shocked that Bakugo can even find the time. But he’d do anything for your kids, do anything to see them bring home empty bentos, bragging about all the kids drooling over their lunches that day. Anything to watch their missing tooth smiles when he asks how they were.

And if that means a couple of extra grocery trips at the end of the week and really early morning runs and gentle kisses on your forehead while you mutter and shift in your sleep before he starts the rice cooker, then so be it.

“Katsuki, they are not going to eat caviar. They do not need caviar.” Honestly, you were less surprised he was dropping it in the cart and more surprised your local supermarket even carried it in the first place. 

“They’ll eat whatever the fuck I give them.” He bites, pushing the cart just shy of too fast through the aisle, head swivelling back and forth for god knows what else. An elderly woman casts your husband a dirty look as he just barely swings the metal buggy to avoid her, to which Katsuki helpfully spits “Keep it movin’, hag!” 

“They’re 10!” 

“Doesn’t mean they need to choke down dry ass chicken nuggets and grape juice all day.”

izuku

Birthday party dad, the absolute worst party dad. Thousands of dollars on his kids’ birthday parties. Princess parties, pirate parties, any theme your kids can gurgle about liking and Deku has pulled out his tablet and is putting a pinterest board together before you can remind him that the twins’ birthday was two months ago. 

“We can get an early start on next year. What’ll you think it’ll cost to turn the pool into an ice rink?”

          “My sanity.”

        “Don’t be dramatic.”

Gets almost ridiculously bitter when the family across the street throws an All Might themed party when he knows, he fucking knows, they overheard him talking about throwing one for the boys months ago, But he is not changing his plan. Naw naw naw, your kids are gonna get their All Might party, they’re getting the All Might Party. Every single attendee is getting a vintage, tin All Might lunchbox stuffed to bursting with All Might merch; toys, branded candy only released in Sweden, keychains, those little retro bubble charms, anything he can cram in there. The yellow, red and blue bouncy castle he rented rivals the size of your house. And then, because there is not a soul on the planet pettier than your husband, he forces every pro hero he’s ever known to get in costume and take photos with the kids. He makes the one with the twins your yearly christmas card, then hand delivers it to the family across the street.

In October.

You bake apology pies for weeks.

“You know this is ridiculous right? Deku, she’s 2” you stress the number, pinching the bridge of your nose. “She isn't going to remember any of this.”

“I'm not listening, I didn't hear that, I am busy putting little princesses on cupcakes, a task you said you would help me with.” He’s grinning when he turns to you, and when you hold out your hand, he places a piping bag full of baby pink frosting in your open palm. 

Together you hunch over the kitchen island to ice and decorate twenty-four strawberry vanilla cupcakes, nudging and snickering at each other’s lopsided princess figures until the two of you are smearing icing on skin and tossing edible glitter into hair.

shouto

You know those “girl dads”? That’s Shouto. He takes her everywhere, takes pictures of everything that little girl does. School plays, holidays, playdates, you name it and there’s a dedicated, timestamped album that Shouto is begging to show every visitor, mailman and coworker. 

He prints them out, and maintains an instagram account filled with his favourite daddy-daughter moments, updated. daily.

Nevermind that he hasn’t used his own personal account in 9 years.

His favourite thing is buying and wearing matching outfits, carrying her in one arm. “Yes, I know she can walk, she’s very talented, she can do anything. She just likes to be as tall as daddy is.”

Whenever he picks her up from school, your husband slides her sweet little coat on and gently secures her into her car seat, right where he can see her when he looks in the rearview mirror. Then, Shouto drives your daughter wherever she wants to go. 

Wherever.

If it’s the zoo, they’re going, and they’re coming back with a gigantic, stuffed red panda to add to her own (not so little) plushie zoo at home. If it’s Starbucks, she comes toddling through the front door holding a VENTI, frozen hot chocolate frappuccino (no coffee, of course) and a brownie. Shouto asks them to make it special, he would never let her handle anything too hot.

“Shouto, stop. You’re gonna rot her teeth, she can’t even finish that.” Which is totally true, the cup’s as big as your daughter’s head. Not that she seems to mind, the way she hefts it up for you to see from the entryway while Shouto undoes her glittery blue shoelaces.

“I’ll finish the rest.” He shrugs, picking her up and plopping her down on the living room couch next to you, pressing a light kiss to the top of your head before shuffling off to hang up their identical winter coats.

He doesn’t even like chocolate.

“Why would she need a iPad?” You grab Shouto by his shoulders and make him look at you. 

“For…school.” His voice is quiet and subdued and you almost feel bad...before you remember your husband is clutching an $800 tablet he intends to give your 6 year old kid to his chest in the middle of an electronics store.

“Baby...she’s in elementary school…They aren’t even using calculators yet.” You try to pry the package out of his grip, steadfastly ignoring the gentle downturn of Shouto’s mouth at the development. 

“She’s very advanced for her age.” The frown is a full on pout by now and you shut it down as quick as you can. 

“No. Uh uh. Put that bottom lip back in. Then put the tablet back.”

It’s wrapped in shiny purple paper by December 19th.

🌿 join my taglist here 🌿

[hikari-kaitou]

Capcom's Official AA Fanclub Surveys - DGS Edition

Many Western fans may be familiar with the Turnabout 4koma comics that get posted on the official AA fanclub site that Capcom runs, thanks to some lovely fans on tumblr and elsewhere who have shared their translations. What fewer people seem to know about is the character surveys.

Back in the old days, they used to hold a survey on Capcom's official AA fansite every few months where they'd write about the seasonal activities of a handful of characters and ask fans to vote for the funniest/most pleasant/strangest/etc answer.

They stopped doing them in like... 2016? 2017? The original text is lost for good as far as I can tell. Even the wayback machine couldn't help because the content was password locked and you can't get past the password wall while remaining in the archived version.

Fortunately, I saved some of my translations of them so I thought I’d share them.

Cut for length...

"February has begun, and the DGS cast is nearing the end of their journey aboard the RFS Alacrei. Which of them acted the most strangely?"

Ryuunosuke ~ Exhausted from his intensive study session, he decided to try some katana swinging practice as a change of pace and to combat his recent lack of exercise. But because he wasn't used to handling the katana, he swung it too hard and it went flying out of his hands and got stuck in the wall right next to Sherlock, who had just entered the room. Sherlock asked him, "aren't you supposed to be studying right now, Mr. Naruhodo?" and handcuffed him to his desk.

Susato- worked on developing a curriculum for Ryuunosuke. 'If we keep going at this pace, he won't be able to learn it all in time... It'll be hard on Naruhodo-sama, but we'll have to work hard through a couple of nights together.' With that thought, she created a harsh study schedule, and almost seemed to be looking forward to it for some reason.

Sherlock- Driven by excitement over the thought of returning to England after a long absence, he went up on deck to stare at the ocean. Being February, it was very cold out there and he ended up being chilled all the way to the tips of his fingers. He returned to the ship cabins and amused himself by putting his frozen hands on Ryuunosuke, who was stuck in his room studying.

Van Zieks- Upon hearing from Vortex that there was a Japanese exchange student coming to England to study law, he smashed a Lord's Bottle. He apparently also didn't care for the fact that that Japanese student wouldn't be alone, because he proceeded to shatter his chalice, too.

Hosonaga- in order to provide a respite from studying, he provided some hot chocolate. They enjoyed a pleasant tea time, marveling over how sweet and delicious the drink was until Sherlock piped up with some unnecessary trivia: 'Actually folks, chocolate has long been used in Europe as an aphrodisiac!' Everyone promptly spat it out."

"The long winter is nearly over and spring is on it's way, putting the DGS cast members in a celebratory mood. Who found the best way of enjoying spring?"

Ryuunosuke: the Yuumei University faculty members were holding a flower viewing event, and he joined the assistance committee. He exhausted himself keeping the blankets clean so the intense shower of flower petals wouldn't pile up too high on them, delivering sake and snacks, and mediating whatever pointless fights arose. To top it all off, for some reason his compensation was only a single piece of leftover candy. Talk about a sad result!

Susato- her father and the others living in his dormitory were  holding the flower viewing event, so she got up early to prepare the bentos. But her father carelessly forgot to tell her that they wanted tea cakes, so she had to go around the house and neighborhood collecting sweets. For some reason, she ended up being able to gather caramels, biscuits, candy sticks, basically everything but tea cakes, for the tea ceremony.

Sherlock- he disguised himself as a beat officer and infiltrated Scotland Yard to have some fun. There was a real beat officer napping on his feet in the spring sunshine, and while observing him, Sherlock ended up falling asleep too. Detective Gregson gave them a good scolding when he found them, but then Sherlock revealed his true identity with a "hey, it's me, folks!" "What the blazes do you think you're doing?!" Gregson shouted, his rage growing even more, and Sherlock ended up making a run for it.

Van Zieks- went to the vineyard to oversee the production of the contents of his Lord's Bottle. As he viewed the still unopened grape blossom buds, he thought about how they would someday grow up to fill his Lord's Bottle, and ended up going around to look at each one. But the farm hands couldn't stop wondering whether the bottle itself or its owner's heel might come flying at them and were quite uneasy.

Asougi: exhausted himself running around since early morning helping with the professors' flower viewing event. When it was over, he took a break, sharing his reward candy stick [the name of the candy literally translates to 1,000 year candy] with Ryuunosuke, who had also been helping out. 

"I wonder if the candy's effect is halved if you share it with someone."

"That still gives us 500 years."

They laughed and enjoyed looking at the flowers until dark. Then they parted ways with a handshake and a "see you later, best friend."

(This one was something about celebrating New Years. For some reason I didn't save the original question)

"Ryuunosuke ~ To celebrate New Years, he planned to pound mochi with everyone at the office. He somehow managed to get his hands on some mochi rice and he and Sherlock started pounding. Iris was having such fun watching them that she steamed a whole bunch more mochi rice so they could have some to share, and he and Sherlock spent the whole evening pounding mochi like crazy.

Asougi~ Because it's New Years, he went around to a bunch of shrines. When he drew his new year's fortune, he got a "horrible luck" result. "I'm not worried about it," he claimed, and headed up to the mountains early on New Years morning and work hard on a full training course of purification by water, meditation under a waterfall and wooden sword practice. It seems that he was working really hard to clear his mind of all earthly thoughts

Sherlock- Agreed to help Ryuunosuke pound mochi. As Ryuunosuke was flipping the mochi over, he carelessly dropped his badge into the bowl and Sherlock mixed it in without noticing, so they had to crack open both the hard and soft mochi to look for it. Fortunately they found it in the 4th one they checked, but apparently Sherlock got his hands and face covered in sticky white mochi in the process.

Susato- Wore a furisode and went with her father to do the first shrine visit of the year. The shrine was incredibly crowded and they had to wait in line for a long time, but she brought the Encyclopaedia of British Law and a copy of the Strand Magazine in her sleeves to secretly read as they waited so she actually ended up enjoying the wait.

Van Zieks- Ryuunosuke cheerfully gave him some mochi as a New Year’s (which at that time was celebrated at the same time as the Chinese New Year) gift, which he accepted confusedly, wondering “...Can the Japanese not even keep track of when the New Year is?” Because Ryuunosuke referred to it as a rice cake, he tried to eat it like a regular cake without softening it with heat first. It was so hard that he couldn’t imagine how it could possibly be food, and ended up misunderstanding the Japanese even more!

"Autumn has arrived, and the weather is starting to cool off, which means that everyone is becoming more active. Which character chose the most pleasant autumn activity to keep busy with?"

Iris was making bread but her hands are small and it’s difficult for her to knead the dough, so she asked for Ryuunosuke’s help. She wanted to make enough to hand out to Gina and all the other homeless children in the East End, so she made a massive amount and Ryuunosuke was stuck kneading this massive mountain of bread dough all day. Apparently he became such a expert at kneading that he could be a baker now.

Asougi was practicing with his sword, slicing autumn-colored ginko leaves as they fell from the tree. He cut so many leaves, though, that he ended up making a big mess on the ground, the number of fallen leaves now having increased, and it took him a long time to clean it all up.    

Sherlock: Ryuunosuke told him that he was making anpan (bread filled with sweet red bean paste, the bane of my Asian-dwelling existance) and asked Sherlock to help by being in charge of getting the poppy seeds they’d need to sprinkle on top, so Sherlock went out and gathered a ton of poppy seeds. In fact, he got so many of them that no one knew what to do with them all cuz they had a huge amount of leftovers. Sherlock said, “Well, they’re only the size of poppy seeds! Surely you two can deal with them somehow! Ahahaha!” and Iris scolded him.   

(I couldn’t capture it in English, but Sherlock’s line contained a pun, and a pretty stupid one at that, so that’s part of why he got scolded)

It’s grape harvesting season, so Van Zieks commutes to the winery regularly to direct the production of the contents for his “Lord’s Bottle.” He demands perfection in everything from the selection of the grapes to the way they’re squeezed, and the winery staff is terrified by the “grim reaper’s” gaze and heel swinging (i.e. the leg thing he does in court) so they grumble as they work. 

"Hearing that there’s a holiday in the West called Halloween, the people involved with the court in Japan decided to try it out themselves. Naturally Halloween is a big deal in England as well. So, which member of the DGS cast had the best celebration?"

Team Ryuunosuke and Asougi- Asougi got Naruhodo up on his shoulders and they draped a white sheet over themselves to make a ghost costume. They went out like that, but Naruhodo had such exaggerated reactions to the fear of the people who saw them and to bumping his head on tree branches that they ended up losing their balance and falling on top of each other?!   

Sherlock Holmes- went wearing a horse’s head mask. Iris used her skills to make it a fancy horse covered in stars, but the eye holes weren’t well made and he had to wander around blindly. Because of that he tripped hard over a pile of coal! He ended up getting so dirty that the stars on his costume were covered up!

Van Zieks- took inspiration from his nickname and dressed up as the grim reaper. He covered himself up with a skeleton mask and hood figuring no one would know it was him. Unfortunately he got angry when he saw Megundal (McGilded) pass by and started throwing bottles and glasses and ended up giving himself away.

"November has arrived, and autumn is nearing its end. However, the DGS cast is still keeping busy, even on their days off. Which character chose the most interesting way to spend their late autumn day?"

Ryuunosuke- Thinking that he’d better learn more about British culture if he was going to be a defense attorney in Britain, he went down to the East End with Gina for a little observation. However, because an Asian like him stood out so much, he got mobbed by the other children. On top of it all, his arm band got stolen from him and he had to send a replacement request to Yumei University on the other side of the ocean.

Asougi- He went for a meal at La Quantas. The customer at a nearby table got a persimmon for dessert and scarfed it down, saying “Mm! This is it! This sweetness makes it worthy of being called a treasure among foods!” Asougi tried to comment on this by saying, “The customer at that table sure is enjoying his pershim--gak!” but he may or may not have accidentally bitten his tongue in the process and been unable to finish his sentence.

Iris- She accepted Ryuunosuke’s request to learn more about British culture and prepared a bagpipe and kilt costume for him. “This outfit sure is breezy,” Ryuunosuke said shyly upon trying it on. With Ryuunosuke now dressed, he, Iris, and the others from their office headed over to Gregson’s place to get him to treat them to some fish and chips.   

Sherlock- He accepted Ryuunosuke’s request to learn more about British culture and cooked up some European style curry for dinner. Thanks to the fact that his secret ingredient was a large amount of Chinese herbal medicine style spice, it caused some strange side effects and Ryuunosuke, who’d eaten it, ended up passing out and falling over.

“Another taxing trial for Ryuunosuke has finished and now it’s December. As the year draws to a close, which character acts the strangest?”

Ryuunosuke- he was recruited to help with snow removal around Yumei University and the courthouse and he enthusiastically began his task with the help of a large shovel. He got a little carried away, though, and ended up accidentally burying his umbrella, which he’d left propped up against the side of the building, in the snow he’d just finished shoveling.  He had no choice but to share Asougi’s umbrella on the way home.

Asougi- On the way home, he nods silently to Ryuunosuke’s question of whether he’d finished his travel preparations and changes the subject: “...Come to think of it, it seems that tomorrow is celebrated in the West as God’s birthday.” “I’ve heard that they eat chicken as part of the traditional celebration. Wanna try it?” Ryuunosuke asks invitingly. Asougi is strongly opposed to that particular menu item, however, and they end up going out for their usual beef stew that night instead.           

Susato- in addition to her year-end travel preparations, she also was busy with straightening up the book room in her home. She managed to get the law books in order when she suddenly stumbled upon some old issues of Strand Magazine! She hurried through the rest of her cleaning, then began flipping through the magazines she’d found, trying to decide which to take with her on her trip. She accidentally lost herself in her reading and didn’t realize it until it was already the middle of the night.

Sherlock- he was in the middle of a long ship voyage when Christmas night came. His mind on his partner in a far-off country, he made a toast alone on deck, when suddenly the crew began shooting off fireworks with a cry of “Merry Christmas!” Sherlock had to dart back and forth across the deck to prevent the fireworks from hitting him and setting off the explosive chemicals he carries with him.

Main series edition

[volleychumps]

Cuddles. (Nekoma x Reader)

‣ the one in which the Nekoma volleyball team finds their manager sleeping soundly in the gym on a cold winter day-

warning(s): none!!! fluff:)

Part of the 3k event! 

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

“Please?” 

“Lev, you’re not putting your hands in my pockets. You can freeze for all I care, you’re tall so it’s your fault for being closer to the sky.”  

“Yakuuuuu-saaaaan-!” 

“We’re here already, so be quiet.” 

Kenma rolls his eyes, huffing out a warm breath of air into the icy atmosphere as the trio of Yaku, Lev, and the setter make their way over to the practice gym for today’s club activities. They’re greeted with a warm rush of air, and Lev practically prances in happiness as Yaku scolds his kouhai to hurry up with the net. 

“Why do we have to do it again?” Lev groans, feeling the frost on his fingertips slowly melt away as he rubs them together. Yaku sighs as he slips the scarf from his neck off. 

“The rest of those imbeciles said the first ones to the club room have to take one for the team.” Kenma shrugs, already on his handheld as Yaku goes to scold him, Lev beginning to drag himself to the storage closet until something catches his bright eye. 

“You guys...Y/N’s already here.” 

“What? Does she usually get here this-?”

“Shush.” Kenma puts a finger up, moving so you enter his view, tilting his head slightly. You had your knees tucked to your chest, back to one of the gym walls with your clipboard laying a short distance away from you. Your eyelids were closed peacefully, bags under your eyes seeing that you had seemed to have hardly slept the night before. 

“What’s this?” Lev picks up a nearby plastic bag resting on one of the bleachers, gasping at the sight as Yaku shushes him, Kenma about to tell him not to go through your things. 

“Look! Y/N made us onigiri, she even put little faces on them made of nori!” Lev’s hushed whisper is excited as Yaku arches a brow, and Kenma takes a seat next to you, not one for excitement as the handheld is slipped back out of his pocket. 

The rice balls were wrapped in cute wrapping, each one having a sticky note with their names and an encouraging note as Yaku feels himself smile a little. He swats Lev’s hands away, telling him to wait for when you wake up-

“Um...guys?” 

Your head had lolled to the side, landing innocently on Kenma’s shoulder as Kenma seemed to stiffen like a board, cat-like eyes widening a fraction while his thumbs were frozen in place.

“...You better not move-” Yaku starts, only for his eyes to harden at the recent development. “Lev! Get your head out of her lap!” 

“No!” Lev whispers back, snuggling into your warmth. “It’s not fair if only Kenma gets to do it!” 

Yaku pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing heavily just as the doors to the gym open up again, a swirl of cold air entering the gym as Kenma feels you shiver in your sleep.

“Alright uglies, I gave you one job-” 

“Sh!” The shush came from the whole trio as Kuroo, Fukunaga, and Kai all blink once in unison. 

“...are you harassing our manager Lev? Again?” Kai clicks his tongue as Lev pouts, not opening his eyes. 

“And Kenma! I didn’t take you for the type-” 

Kenma throws his handheld with the shoulder you weren’t leaning on, glaring daggers at his childhood friend as Kuroo simply smirks in reply, catching the precious device. 

“Y/N fell asleep and her head’s on Kenma’s shoulder.” Yaku explains tiredly, and Kai claps him on the back, knowing practice hadn’t even started yet and the mother of the team had to deal with this already. 

“She’s cold.” Kenma adds, prompting Kuroo to slip his jacket off before motioning for Lev to get out of the way. The raven-haired captain lays his jacket in your lap, grazing his fingers against your cheek before frowning at the temperature of your skin. 

“Ice cold.” 

Yaku frowns, wondering if the reason you seemed to be borderline sick was because you had stayed up into the night to make today’s surprise. He sighs for the umpteenth time, grabbing his scarf before bending down next to you, instructing Kenma to lift your head gently off the wall to do so. A second rush of cold air hits the gym as the rest of the team file in. 

“...Inuoka, call the police.” 

“Yamamoto-san, no-” 

Fukunaga’s hand is on the shoulders of his kouhai, the second year shaking his head lightly as Shibuyama and Inuoka nod obediently, covering their eyes. 

“Stop! We’re not doing anything bad!” Yaku snaps, clapping a hand over his mouth as multiple shushes fill the gym. Kuroo explains the situation briefly, and Kai arches a brow in the direction of Lev. 

“Lev, are you eating right now? Practice is about to start-” 

“Y/N made us these!” 

A warm feeling settled in the already warm atmosphere as the onigiri were passed around, your handwriting standing out against a neon yellow note taped to the plastic wrap. 

“Do you think...she’s so tired because of this?” 

“No. Not at all. Never crossed my mind.” 

“Stop being sarcastic, Kenma!” 

Kuroo shoots an annoyed look at Kenma and Yamamoto, sighing with a hand on his neck before standing at full height. Kai looks to his friend, crossing his arms as the underclassmen all read the notes on their presents with a soft look on each of their faces. The two upperclassmen glance down at your figure, a gentle smile on your face as if you were having a nice dream. Kuroo couldn’t help but grin at the sight- he always thought you worked way too hard. 

“So what do we do?” 

“...I mean yesterday was the prelims, I guess?” Kuroo says finally, a thoughtful look on his face. “I wanted to get into it right away, but I suppose we can take a break today. Only because I’m a good and caring captain.” 

“Pack it up Ghandi-” 

“Oi. I’ll eat your onigiri, Kenma- don’t try me.” Kuroo snips, taking Lev’s previous seat on the other side of you. 

“Anyways,” Kuroo smirks, gently lolling your head upwards and finally onto his own shoulder, leaning his head atop yours. “I call dibs on the best seat.” 

“...Okay, I’ll call the police-” 

“Yamamoto!” 

Soon, whispered chatter fell to silence as Kai and Yaku lean against the wall next to their fellow third year, Kuroo’s head laying upon yours fast asleep. The onigiri filled the stomachs of the younger years, making them sleepy as they all shuffled over to where the warmth was. 

Lev was laying diagonally, avoiding Kuroo’s legs with his head in your lap again, Inuoka unknowingly curled up into his side. Fukunaga slept straight with his back on the wall next to Kenma, Yamamoto dozing off on his shoulder as Shibuyama curled up into a ball at their feet. The warmth of the gym in the midst of a cold winter day was too enticing to not allow their eyelids to grow heavier. 

Kuroo smirks, one of his eyes opening as he glances down at your sleeping figure, unbeknowst to the human pillows giving you heat. 

“We can’t let our precious manager get sick now, can we?” 

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

General works: @takemetovalhalla @kasandrafaye @savemesteeb ​@dreebbles @yams046 @let-me-have-my-own-name @deadontheinsidebut @lifeisntjustblackandwhite @curiouslilbeast @aprettyfruit @wisepandaslimeland @h0ngh0ngh0ng @lmkjimin @therestless101 @orangegiraffe7 @dai-tsukki-desu @kac-chowsballs

[shemarmooresfedora]

Home

Series Summary: After being arrested, Spencer Reid desperately tries to get back home to his daughter, Camellia, who was placed into foster care in your home.

Pairing: Single!Dad!Spencer x Foster!Mom!Reader

Content/Warnings: hospitals, mentions of blood, swearing

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: hi! last time i tried to use the new post editor to tag people and it worked for some but not for others. so, if you missed chapter 6, i linked it here!

Masterlist

Chapter 7

Spencer walked back to your room after waking up from a nap in the cot in Callie’s room. He did a double take when your bed was empty and freshly made.

He walked up to the nurses’ station, “Hi, is Y/N Y/L/N okay? Did she move rooms?”

“Honey, she practically ran out of here,” the nurse stated.

“What do you mean? She shouldn’t be discharged yet. My daughter, Callie, has much more minor injuries and she’s not even getting released until tomorrow,” Spencer replied.

“She insisted on a self-discharge against doctor’s orders,” the nurse stated.

“What the hell was she thinking?” Spencer sighed exasperatedly, running his hands through his hair, “She can probably barely even stand up straight.”

“She denied all assistance,” the nurse shrugged, “Can’t help someone who doesn’t want to be helped.”

Spencer ran back to his room where Callie and Penelope were watching Grey’s Anatomy, ironic due to their current location.

“I gotta go,” Spencer rushed to put on his jacket and find his keys.

“Where?” Callie asked.

“Y/N went home against doctor’s orders. At least I hope she even made it home with 3 gunshot wounds,” Spencer ran back out the door and towards the elevator.

-

The door was unlocked when Spencer arrived. Spencer hadn’t tried it until after he had knocked a couple of times.

Spencer’s eyes drifted downward to the dried blood puddle in the entryway. CSI was supposed to send somebody to clean that, Spencer thought to himself.

“Y/N?” Spencer made his way up the stairs.

Spencer jogged a little faster at the lack of response. You lay face down in bed, completely still.

“Oh my god, no no no, not again,” Spencer ran to your side, “Y/N,” he shook you.

“What the fuck?” you groaned, flipping over and rubbing your eyes to adjust to the light.

“You gave me a heart attack,” Spencer clutched his heart in relief.

“And you woke me up from my nap,” you mumbled.

“Why aren’t you at the hospital?” he asked, his hands on his hips, ready to lecture.

“Why aren’t you at the hospital?” you repeated, “Callie is still there.”

“Don’t change the subject, Y/N. Callie is with Penelope and she only has scratches. You have 3 whole fucking gunshot wounds,” Spencer raised his voice a little to emphasize his point.

“I don’t like hospitals,” you replied.

“Well, too bad because I don’t like you being dead so we’re going back,” Spencer tried to grab you.

You kicked and squirmed and wiggled so he couldn’t get a firm hold on you.

“Stop being a child, Y/N! You need proper care!” he insisted.

“I’m a doctor, I know what I’m doing,” you argued.

“You can’t help yourself if you go into septic shock!” Spencer stated.

You just pulled the comforters back over you, shielding your face from the light.

“Fine, if you’re insisting on staying here, I am too,” Spencer sat down in the loveseat in the room.

“But Callie’s still in the hospital,” you reminded him.

“Callie has Penelope with her and she is with a team of trained professionals which you are refusing,” Spencer picked a book from your bookshelf and plopped back down in the chair.

“Fine,” you huffed, “Make yourself at home.”

-

Once your breathing had evened out, Spencer quietly snuck downstairs, grabbing a scrub brush, cleaning chemicals, and a bucket of soapy water.

He got to work scrubbing down every speck of blood in the house and organizing everything that seemed out of place.

After the cleaning was done, Spencer went through your cabinets to see what he could make you for a late dinner. He decided on some frozen potstickers and rice, hoping the big meal would be enough to nourish your body after all the stress it went through.

As the potstickers were sizzling on the stove, you came down the stairs, wrapped basically head to toe in a blanket with only your face showing.

“I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I smelt food,” you giggled softly.

“Too bad these are all for me,” Spencer joked.

You hit his arm playfully as he plated the potstickers on to two plates.

You immediately picked up your chopsticks and popped one into your mouth, your eyes widening.

“Hot!” you breathed out, fanning your mouth.

“You saw me just take them off the stove, I didn’t know I needed to give you a warning,” Spencer cupped his hands panickedly, “Spit.”

You spit the burning hot potsticker into his hands. You then turned the faucet onto the coldest setting and drank the water straight from the tap. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, looking up at Spencer. You both broke out in a fit of hysterical laughter.

Your eyes actually started to water a little from the pain because you were giggling so hard.

“My stitches are going to burst,” you wheezed.

Spencer’s face got a lot more serious, “Do we need to go back to the hospital?”

“No, no. Just don’t make me laugh that hard again,” you smiled, grabbing your plate and heading over to the sofa.

“You were the one who started it!”

“You are the one who told me to spit it into your hands rather than the sink, the trash can, the floor, or anywhere else! Callie said you were a germaphobe,” you replied.

“Prison pretty much solved that for me,” Spencer sighed.

You gave him a sympathetic look, “Oh! I know something we can watch!” you got up from the couch and ran to your purse, pulling out the video camera, “Callie’s soccer championship game!”

Spencer smiled brightly, “Callie told me she made the winning shot with 5 seconds left in the game.

“That she did, Doctor. And luckily, you have a pro film recorder who caught it all on tape,” you grinned.

You rested your head on Spencer’s shoulder as you both watched the game and ate.

“I can’t thank you enough for all you have done for Callie and I,” Spencer spoke, “Seriously, I owe you like a million favors.”

“You don’t have to repay me. I like helping good families in bad situations,” you replied.

Spencer looked down at you and whispered, “You’re an angel.”

Before you even knew what was happening, both of you were leaning forward until your lips pressed together. Spencer cupped your cheeks as your hands roamed through his curls.

Eventually, you both pulled away to regain your breath. You opened your mouth to talk but Spencer gently shushed you.

“You need rest, we’ll talk tomorrow,” he whispered, which was good because you didn’t even know what you were planning to say in the first place.

You nodded and Spencer carried you up the stairs and tucked you into bed.

“Good night, Y/N,” he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

“Night, Spencer,” you mumbled, barely able to keep your eyes open any longer.

Spencer made himself comfortable on the loveseat before your cute little snores lulled him into a peaceful sleep.

-

You woke to the sound of pans clattering and sizzling downstairs. You made your way down to find Spencer in your sage green apron with embroidered flowers.

“I made you pancakes,” he smiled, showing you the big stack he formed on a plate and setting it in front of you, “This just came off the oven so wait a minute. We don’t need another potsticker situation.”

You poured syrup over the pancakes, “Thank you, they look super fluffy.”

“Coffee, tea, orange juice, or water?” he asked.

“Tea please,” you said.

Spencer turned the kettle on as he flipped more pancakes, adding them to his plate.

Once the water was hot, Spencer poured two mugs and added teabags to the steaming water. He set his plate next to yours at the kitchen counter.

“So we should probably talk about last night,” Spencer broached the subject as you cut into your pancakes.

You nodded to show you were listening.

“I don’t know if I’m ready for a label just yet but I would love to take you out on a date sometime if that’s something you are interested in.”

“Yes, very much so,” you smiled, “But only if Callie is okay with it. I don’t want to make her uncomfortable.”

“Well, we can ask her when we go pick her up because she is being discharged within the hour,” Spencer looked at his watch.

“Then you guys will go home,” you frowned slightly at the sudden feeling of loneliness.

“Well, I don’t want to overstay our welcome but I figured we would just come back here for a little while longer so I can still take care of you. Plus, most of Callie’s stuff is already here,” Spencer replied.

You hugged him, “You’ll never overstay your welcome here.”

-

Spencer leaned you up against the car for support as you waited for Callie and Penelope to meet you in the hospital parking lot. Once Callie saw you, she ran over, pulling you in for the biggest hug.

“Okay, careful. This is very sweet but you both are still injured,” Spencer cautioned.

“I’ll leave you guys to it,” Penelope waved goodbye.

Spencer helped you back into the car. Callie was pretty much fully healed and could do everything on her own.

“Callie, we have a question for you,” Spencer spoke as he drove.

“Yeah, Dad?”

“Would you be okay with Y/N and I going out on a date? If you aren’t, that’s totally okay,” he asked.

“Yes! Yes! Yes! A million times yes! Move in! Get married! I want you to be my mom!” she exclaimed.

“Okay, I think we are getting a little ahead of ourselves here,” Spencer nervously laughed, grabbing your hand and squeezing it a bit.

You turned around to face Callie, “Callie, you know I’ll always be here for you, no matter what. Real mom or not, dating your dad or not, you need me, I’m there.”

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[gale-gentlepenguin]

ML Fic: Soulmate Survey Part 38

Sorry for the delay. Real life gets out of hand. But here it is! The antepenultimate chapter.

Shout out to @asongeverlasting for beta reading for me and making sure I actually got this out.

Check her writing out on AO3 as Ramblingwren

(Master post)

(Read the fic in a more condensed on Ao3)

(The latest chapter will be up on there once this reaches over 500 notes on tumblr)

Hope you all enjoy

_____________________________________________________________

“I shouldn’t have let her go out there.”

Fu watched the school nurse, Angela, fret as she paced back and forth.

“I understand your concern, but I believe that it will all be alright. Ladybug and Chat Noir haven’t failed in handling an akuma yet,” he explained. “The girl will be okay.”

The nurse stopped pacing.

“I appreciate your optimism but… I am really not used to this,” She said as she gestured to the air.

Fu blinked at the statement.

“Oh?”

“This! This whole thing! Super villains that appear whenever someone gets sad, teenagers with superpowers! This is all new to me! I just moved to Paris a month ago from the countryside. All I wanted was to further my education and get work in the medical field. It… It boggles my mind that everyone in this city is so okay with all of this! Even my new boyfriend Curtis is able to shrug off an akuma attack like a sudden drizzle. This isn’t normal!”

The guardian could tell the young woman was distressed, and he couldn’t blame her. In a way, he envied her. This was all foreign for her, but to him, this was his entire life.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to blow up like that. I've had a lot to deal with, and this whole situation is just so…”

Fu moved to her and helped her sit down.

“It’s alright, this is by no means a good situation. Your concerns are very understandable. I can tell that deep down that your frustration and fear come from compassion and empathy. You will make a wonderful doctor one day.”

She took a deep breath.

“Thank you. You have no idea how much I really needed to hear that today.”

“How about I teach you a medication technique that will help you calm down?”

“Meditation? I'm not really one for that kind of stuff.”

“If one wants to be a doctor, being able to calm down and handle an emergency situation is a must.”

The school nurse agreed that he had a good point, and that this may help get her mind off of things.

“Okay, I guess I'll give it a shot.”

Fu smiled.

“Good. Let us start simple. Close your eyes and put your hands together.”

Angela felt the action was a bit odd but complied.

“Now, take a deep breath. Count to 5 in your head and then breathe out.”

She took her breath and followed the order.

“Whenever you feel a thought come to your head, simply picture yourself putting it out of your mind and into a bucket.”

She tried her best to comply.

As she did this, Fu moved behind her and quickly pinched a nerve on her neck, causing the young woman to seize up for a moment before losing consciousness.

“That will help her relax.”

He carefully moved her to the cot and laid a sheet over her like a blanket.

Once it was clear that she was asleep, a turtle kwami flew out of hiding.

“So, what do we do now, Master?”

Fu took a moment to consider.

His plan was already in motion. Ladybug and Chat Noir had plenty of allies to help fight the akuma. All that needed to be done was to sit down and wait.

But as he thought about it more, he couldn’t help but think that he should go in personally. It was what he'd initially planned to do with akuma, after all. Listening to this young woman’s fears made him really see how his inaction has led to such fear and uncertainty.

For once, it was time for him to go on the offensive.

“Now we head out and find this akuma.”

“Master, you already sent out three miraculous. Let the other heroes handle this,” Wayzz insisted.

“The people of Paris should not have to become used to this. I have been far too lax with this situation. Right now, Ladybug and Chat Noir are facing their most dangerous akuma yet. For decades I have always remained passive in order to avoid making another mistake, but I have already made so many with my inaction. It's time I stop letting my actions be dictated by fear.”

“But Master, you can’t transform! Your body is too old to handle it!”

“Fear not, Wayzz. I have been exercising and restoring my vitality with the techniques of the guardians. By my estimation, I should be able to maintain the transformation without too much issue for 10 minutes,” Fu assured.

“That is not a lot of time, Master!” Wayzz pointed out.

“True, but it is better than nothing. We will head out and wait for the moment we need it. Be ready, Wayzz.”

The old guardian started heading to the door.

“But Master, what if you get captured? What if the akuma does succeed and you are unable to step in?”

Fu paused at the door.

“I know you are concerned for me. I appreciate your care. But I need to go out there. I have lived a long life, Wayzz, far longer than most humans. One day I may not be here to be the guardian.”

Wayzz felt a pang of sorrow hearing his Master talk about how he would no longer be around.

“But that’s okay. I know that when that time comes… I have two young heroes that will be ready to stand up and fight. The best thing an old man like me can do is pave the road for them.” The guardian said with certainty. He went to open the door.

“Fu…”

The old man stopped. Turning around, he saw the turtle kwami he had known for most of his life smile at him.

“I know you think of yourself as a failure of a guardian… but Su Han and the others were wrong. You are a great one. You are the most caring guardian that has ever held the title. And I will be by your side to the end.”

The old man felt his eyes well up at the sweet comment.

“Then let’s go, Partner.”

___________________________________________________________________________

The dragon heroine grabbed the confused snake hero and moved him to the closest room before closing the door.

“Okay we should be safe here,” she said as she looked over to her comrade. It was clear that Viperion was still very confused. It did not help that both his and her miraculous were beeping. They didn't have much time.

“Thanks… ummm,” Viperion started as he tried to rack his brain for a name. Part of him felt like he should know her. But his mind is blank.

“Ryuuko. You can call me Ryuuko. And you are Viperion.”

“Okay… weird name for me, but I guess it works.”

Ryuuko realized that the bubble Viperion had been put in wasn’t just to keep him frozen in place. One of the side effects must have been leaving him without any memory of who he was. Had her partner been aware of that risk when he took the bubble for her? She couldn’t know for sure. But right now, she needed to focus on the task at hand. Shehad to take charge since her partner was out of sorts.

“Okay, 'll try to explain this as quickly as possible.”

“Your real name is Luka. But when you are in your hero form, you go by Viperion.”

“Hero form...”

He looked down.

“Well, that does explain the costumes. I thought it was some sort of weird costume party.”

Ryuuko decided to ignore that.

“Okay, so I'm a hero. And you're one too?”

“Yes. We are both heroes picked by Ladybug to help her fight villains. Right now, we're fighting a bunch of them, and you got your memory wiped by one of their attacks. That’s why you are confused. Any questions?”

The boy took a moment to look himself over and then look at her. This was a lot of information to take in. Ryuuko was half expecting him to call her crazy. Which, given how bizarre the circumstances were, she wouldn’t blame him.

“Okay, I think if it was anyone else telling me this, I would have called it a load of bull. But… I don’t know why but I feel like I can trust you. You sound sincere,” Viperion responded.

“Okay great, now let's…”

“I still have a few questions.”

Ryuuko sighs.

“Look, we really don’t have much time. We need to hurry and get out there to help…”

And just before she finished the statement, both of their transformations wore off. Revealing their civilian forms.

“Oh no.” Kagami muttered in horror.

“What happened? Where am I… What am I?” The snake kwami questioned as he looked at himself.

“It appears that Sass was also impacted by the amnesia.” The dragon kwami that popped out of her necklace commented.

Luka stared wide eyed at the creature.

“Are you a snake?”

“A snake? I suppose?”

“A snake with limbs? That is very rock and roll.”

The two fistbumped. Thankfully they seemed to get along.

Longg looked at them.

“This is quite a predicament.”

“We need to hurry back in. Longg! Bring the….”

“Hold on a moment. Both Sass and I will not be able to do that yet.”

Kagami stopped.

“How come?”

“We need to refuel. The energy of transforming AND using our unique powers drains a lot out of us. We need some food to continue.”

“Food… Okay.”

The snake Kwami grabbed his stomach.

“I find myself rather famished,” he commented.

Luka looked at him.

“Let me see if I can help you out.”

The teen took off the backpack he was wearing to go through it. Thankfully there was a bag lunch in there. For some reason he felt that was important. But decided that if it could help the little guy out, he was sure it wouldn’t be a big deal.

He opened the bag lunch and pulled out a bag of apple slices. Opening it to grab a piece.

“I know snakes usually are carnivores, but how about some fruit?”

“Ooo! It smells divine!”

Luka handed the floating kwami a piece of the apple.

He takes a bite.

“Oh! It's delicious! Juicy and sweet!”

The snake quickly devours the apple piece.

As that happens, Kagami looked through her bag.

“I don’t have fruit but I do have some onigiri. It was my afternoon snack… but since this is a dire situation.”

“Rice? Yes please!” Longg exclaimed as he dive bombed right into the delicious rice ball.

“It’s Umeboshi, it’s not to everyone’s taste but It is one of my favorites.”

“It’s the most delicious thing I have ever eaten. The sour plum really brings a new dimension of flavor.”

Kagami smiled a bit at her kwami companion, happy that she could help.

The two Kwami finished their food and were ready for action.

“Okay, Sass. You need to help Luka transform.”

“Sass? Is that my name?” the snake inquired.

“So, he helps me transform into Viperman?”

“Viperion, and yes,” Kagami responded.

“All you need to do is say. Sass, Scales Slither. And to activate your special power just pull your bracelet back and say second chance. Then pull it back when you want to use it. But be sure not to use it right away,” Longg instructed.

“Okay seems easy enough. Are you okay with this?” Luka asked as he turned his attention to his snake pal.

“The floating horn snake seems fine with it so I say let’s give it a try”

Longg decided for the sake of his friendship with Sass to ignore the comment.

“Alright! Let's do this!” Kagami exclaimed as she prepared to transform.

“One last question.”

Kagami was starting to get antsy. She wanted to be back out there fighting. But she held back her annoyance, considering how he sacrificed his memories for her.

“Make it quick, we need to hurry.”

Luka scratches the back of his head.

“Are we a couple?”

If Kagami was drinking water she would have done a massive spit take. Her cheeks turned red.

“What?!”

“You know… together? You seem to know a lot about me, and I just feel this connection... like I can trust you even though I don’t remember anything. I don’t know how or why, but I feel like you matter to me.”

Kagami’s eyes went wide at the comment. It felt surprisingly bold of the musician to say. She had to admit that the statement made her heart skip a beat.

“No, we had just recently become friends.” Kagami responded.

“Oh…” Luka was saddened by the response.

“But, I have thought about the possibility it could be more than that one day," Kagami continued. "But that is something to discuss when you have your memory back. Maybe.”

The fencer felt her mind scream at her.

‘WHY DID YOU SAY THAT! Well, at least he won't remember.’

Luka smiled at that.

“Well, that must mean I must be a good guy, if I could have such a great friend like you.”

The teen prepared himself.

“Alright then! Sass! Scales Slither.”

The musician shifted into his hero form.

“Let’s go save the day.”

Kagami looked at her hero partner and smiled.

“Longg, Bring the storm.

______________________________________________________________________

“Well, that might be a problem.”

Chat Noir and Ladybug looked to see a stone giant guarding the front door of the classroom. The two had hidden just out of the goliath’s view.

“Any ideas on how to take down Mount Akuma?” Chat Noir questioned.

Ladybug looked at the giant from their hiding spot and began formulating a plan.

“Stoneheart grows bigger when he gets mad. These akuma aren’t really able to express their emotions. That means we don’t need to worry about him getting bigger. We just need to find a way to incapacitate him.”

“We could ask Mayura,” Chat Noir pointed out.

“We could ask… wait WHA…”

Chat Noir covered his partner’s mouth and ducked down.

“Shhhh! She’s right there,” Chat Noir hushed.

Ladybug removed the cat’s hand from her mouth and looked from the spot to see that her partner was right. Mayura was in the building!

“She actually showed up?” Oh, this is a lot more serious than we thought. Hawkmoth is really playing it serious with this one.”

“To the butterfly man’s credit, he really has been throwing out some tough ones.”

“I will not give our worst villain credit for anything except this headache,” Ladybug retorted with annoyance.

“So, what do we do? Mayura is in the building and she is talking with the giant.”

Ladybug felt like the situation couldn’t get worse.

“Not so fast, Feather Freak!”

Ladybug recognized that voice.

“Chloé?”

Chat Noir and Ladybug glanced to see a familiar blonde strutting down the hallway. But their expressions of shock shifted to bewilderment when they noticed what she was wearing.

“So are you and that purple fashion blunder here? Or is it just you? I am guessing it's just you. Your boss doesn’t really like to show his face unless he thinks he is sure to win. No wonder Ladybug always kicks his…” The bee themed heroine confidently quipped.

“Queen Bee. Now that is a surprise. I thought Ladybug was done giving you a miraculous.” The peacock villainess commented. She had no interest in dealing with the bee heroine at this time.

“Well, you would be surprised by a lot of things. So how about we settle this. My fist really misses your face.”

Mayura rolled her eyes.

“Fortunately for you, I don’t have the time to deal with you. Stoneheart, I am sure Masquerade would love for you to take care of this pesky bee.”

“Oh don’t think you can walk away! You and that purple cockroach are the same. Both cowards that can’t even face children.” She jeered as she walked forward.

The stone giant moved forward, allowing Mayura to walk to the door and enter.

“Too scared to face me! Typical. I'll beat your pet rock as a warm up and then your butt will meet my foot!” Queen Bee exclaimed with confidence. “Because I am a real heroine!”

Queen Bee got into a stance and prepared to trade blows with the colossus of rock.

Chat Noir looked to Ladybug.

“Did you give her a miraculous?” He whispered in surprise.

“I don’t have any additional miraculous. I thought she had been captured with the rest of the class.”

“Wait… if it wasn’t you… you don’t think…”

“Either Master Fu is in the building and saw how dire the situation was or Chloé snuck away and had a Queen Bee costume stowed away in her locker.”

The two look at each other and immediately come to the same conclusion.

“We need to save her before she gets crushed!”

______________________________________________________________________

Mayura walked into the classroom.

She managed to keep a straight face, but internally she had a lot going through her mind.

What was once a standard classroom now looked like an elaborate throne room. The amazing curtains, the high ceilings. The steps leading up to an elaborate throne. The portraits of Masquerade really brought together the utter decadence and vanity of the akuma persona. It reminds Mayura of Gabriel’s obsession with Emilie in the worst way possible.

Despite finding the décor off-putting, she had to admit it was impressive how Masquerade had been able to change the room into something completely unrecognizable. A testament to her vanity.

She took a moment to see what akuma servants she still had in the room. The Gamer, Reflekta with around 12 copies, Princess Fragrance, Robostus, Zombizou and Horificator. While the white masks obscured their expressions, it was clear that all of them were watching her. It greatly unnerved her.

She kept these thoughts to herself as the masked akuma that was running the school took notice of her.

“Mayura. I've been expecting you.”

Mayura looked up to see Masquerade sitting on the throne.

“Please, come in.”

She approached confidently. Though in the back of her mind something seemed off.

Masquerade stood up from the throne and walked down the steps, a smile of certainty on her face.

“Masquerade. Your Sentimonster gave me the basics of your plan. Securing the school as your base of operations was a good first step. Your plan of creating a video to lower the spirits of those in Paris was also a nice touch,” Mayura praised.

“But of course! My plan is flawless,” Masquerade boasted. “Not even Ladybug and Chat Noir will be able to stop me.”

“Getting ahead of yourself aren’t you?” Mayura cut her ego trip.

Masquerade’s mood soured as her smile faltered.

“What do you mean by that?”

“You have yet to face the two heroes. Not to mention there's a pesky bee flying around.”

“A bee?” Masquerade was very confused by the comment.

“Yes, Chloé Bourgeois, or Queen Bee, to be precise. Seems that Ladybug and Chat Noir went and got back up."

“It doesn’t matter if they have one additional hero or three. This plan won't fail.”

‘Something isn’t right here. I need to leave now!’ Mayura’s mind screamed.

She wasn’t sure why, but something felt incredibly off.

“Speaking of heroes, your plan never really specified how you will deal with them. Care to elaborate?”

Masquerade’s smile grew more sinister.

“I am glad you asked. After Simularé relayed to me that you were here. I finally figured out the perfect way of dealing with those arrogant heroes,” the masked woman stated with certainty, moving forward.

She now stood only a few feet from the peacock villainess.

“Wait a moment, something is wrong here,” Mayura commented as she tried to focus. She couldn’t ignore the warnings in her head.

“What do you mean?” The mask akuma looked with confusion at the blue villainess.

Mayura looked around. Frantically trying to find something but it was fruitless. This distress caused Masquerade to smile.

“I can't sense it,” Mayura spoke with slight worry.

“Sense what?” Masquerade inquired further.

“Where is your amok? It should be on your person but I can't sense it.”

“Is that a problem?”

“Yes. If you don’t have the amok in your possession then that sentimonster will go out of control!” Mayura explained.

“Can’t you just rip the amok out?”

“If it's nearby and I sense it, yes. But I can’t do that if it’s out of my range.”

“So you’re saying you have no power over me right now.” A devilish grin appeared on Masquerade’s face.

“No, I am saying I don’t have any power over the senti…”

Mayura felt a chill as she realized that the masquerade in front of her was not an akumatized Lila.

“Horrificator, block the door,” the Faux Masquerade commanded.

The pink and purple monster quickly moved to block the door with her large form.

The controlled akuma started circling around her as Simularé undid the illusion and morphed into its true specter form, Simularé.

“You ungrateful little monster. You think your master will be okay with you attacking one of the ones that gave her power?”

“My master doesn’t care about you or Hawkmoth. You are a means to an end. And she gave me special permission to take your miraculous from you.”

“Well if your master isn’t here, then no one is jamming the signal. I can contact Hawkmoth and put this little coup to an end.”

Simularé shifted into Lady Wifi.

“I have access to every power my master does. You are trapped with no options.” The sentimonster mocked.

Mayura looked around as she was circled by the controlled akuma. She needed to get out of there.

She felt a pain rush to her head.

‘F*** not now’ She mentally cursed.

The odds were indeed not in her favor.

______________________________________________________________________________

Stoneheart began charging at the bee themed heroine, and just as Queen Bee was about to move, a yo-yo wrapped around her waist and pulled her away from the monster.

The stone giant had expected his charge to make contact but forced himself to stop when he noticed the bee was gone.

“Sorry tiny, but I’m your playmate now,” called a cat-themed hero.

The mindless akuma didn’t visibly react to the change in foe and simply charged at the cat hero.

Queen Bee found herself near Ladybug.

“Chloé! What are you doing?!”

“Uh… Saving the day? I got the jewelry box that you sent out because you needed my help.”

“Jewelry box… wait a minute that means. You are wearing a miraculous.”

“Yep! Don’t worry LB, I will show you that I am worthy of being Queen Bee. And not to boast, but I totally saved someone. But right now, we gotta go beat that ugly pile of rubble.”

Ladybug looked at Chloé for a moment. With the situation as hectic as it was, Queen Bee has shown some competence when there is real danger. Ladybug knew that right now, all hands that could help would be appreciated, and Queen Bee’s appearance could mean that Fu may be closer than she expected. So maybe there were more reinforcements. So if this was the case. She would trust Fu’s judgement.

“Alright, just be ready to return the bee after all of this is over.”

“Right, right, but just know I will probably change your mind about that after this is over!” the bee exclaimed confidently as she jumped back into the fray.

Ladybug shook her head. Whether she was Queen Bee or Chloé, she was still a handful.

“Are you finished gossiping? Because I could REALLY use a hand!” Chat Noir shouted as he held his staff up to hold back the rock monster’s boulder of a fist.

Queen Bee and Ladybug jumped into view and noticed the situation.

“Don’t worry you stray cat, The Queen Bee will put that rock in his place. Ve…”

Ladybug covered Queen Bee’s mouth before she could.

“Hold it. We might need your power for later.”

“I think it would be useful now!” Chat Noir shouted as he struggled to hold the weight of the giant’s rocky hand.

“Okay if my powers are a no no right now, what is the plan?”

Ladybug looked around. She found her attention drawn to a fire extinguisher, Queen Bee, a rubber band, and a discarded backpack.

“Okay, I have a plan.”

______________________________________________________________________

Gabriel had made a decision.

He hurried out of the lair in his civilian form. He was going to head to the school. Now he would just need to get his chauffeur and go…

Gabriel’s eyes went wide as he saw his son’s bodyguard and chauffeur fall to the floor at the steps of the main entrance, a white mask adorning his face that he was desperately trying to get off.

“What is the meaning of this?” Gabriel asked aloud in shock and anger.

He looked to see the mask akuma he created standing at the door.

“Well, if it isn’t Gabriel Agreste. Fashion mogul, and master manipulator.”

Gabriel’s visible anger faded as he stared at the akuma.

“Lila, is that you?”

“Oh quite astute! An amazing deduction. Was it that observational skill that made you the fashion success you are now?” the akumatized Lila inquired. “Though I go by Masquerade now.”

Gabriel knew very well the girl’s powers. He was the one that gave it to her. She was trying to antagonize him, get him angry. But that would not work.

“Well Masquerade, what brings you to my home at this time?” Gabriel asked calmly. Doing his best to keep his tone and mannerisms calm.

“Oh, I was just in the neighborhood, finding more people to join my little army and I notice my charm glowing as I was getting near.”

Gabriel’s eyes went wide as he realized something. The charm bracelet was configured to locate anyone that has ever been akumatized. That included him. His ploy to ward suspicion off of himself was now biting him in the butt. And of course, Lila was likely holding a grudge with how he pushed her with his words about his son and his classmate.

“My bodyguard was akumatized. What of it?”

The silent action figure enthusiast stopped resisting and his body began growing. Gabriel noticed the man was transforming into the gorilla akuma. Gorizilla! And he rushed up the steps as the akuma moved and pounded his chest.

“Gorizilla, go gather up anyone who has been akumatized that you know of. I will handle Mr. Agreste myself.”

The giant akuma nodded at its master and headed off, leaving the agreste mansion with a giant hole that was once the front of the mansion.

“Handle me? And what do you plan to do?”

Masquerade’s necklace began to glow.

“Oh! Well that is very interesting,” Masquerade mused aloud as she learned from the glowing charm.

“What do you mean, interesting?” Gabriel asked. He knew that the charm had the bonus effect of pointing out the emotional weak points of those that had been akumatized. But he had PRETENDED to be angry and wasn’t actually emotional when the akuma took over. Did the charm still impact him the same way it did everyone else?

Masquerade started walking up the steps.

“You blame yourself for your wife’s passing.”

The statement was a blade pointed right at his throat. But Gabriel refused to react. He would not let himself be taken advantage of by his own akuma. He has been on the receiving end one too many times and he would be damned if he let that psychopath have control of him.

Masquerade saw that Gabriel was not reacting to the statement.

“I have never seen a man more miserable and pathetic,” Masquerade said. Her words sounded genuine and cutting.

Gabriel tried to turn around and walk away. But Masquerade jumped high with her superhuman agility and landed right in front of him, continuing her tearing down of his emotional state.

“All of this wealth and yet you are obsessed with what you don’t have. You are so blinded by the grief of losing your wife that everything else in your life may as well not exist. You locked yourself away, desperately trying to find something, anything that would bring her back. But now you are finding that color is starting to return in your life. You feel guilt over hiding the truth from your son, you loathe the attraction that you have been developing for another woman. You hate that you can’t dedicate every second to your lost wife and any speck of joy you feel without her here feels like treason since she is not here with you. You are a man so blind with his obsession that you fail to see the world doesn’t revolve around you. It's disgusting.”

“You know nothing of my life,” Gabriel dismissed.

But Masquerade knew he would say that. She only smiled. The truth was right in front of her. And she was ready to bring it home.

“You are actually terrified of facing her again.”

That shook Gabriel.

“What?”

“You are afraid of seeing her again. Whether it’s a year or 10 years, you feel that even if you could bring her back, she would be here and realize how much of a shell you had become without her. You are afraid that your obsession with her will be the very thing that drives her away once you see her again.”

“That isn’t true.”

“Then why haven’t you brought her back yet? Don’t you love her?”

Gabriel felt like his heart was being repeatedly punched.

“How dare you question my love for my wife!”

“Then why isn’t she here? If you loved her she wouldn’t have been taken from you and Adrien. But you were far too pathetic to do it. You failed her, and you are still failing her. You will never be with her again, and deep down. You know it to be true,” Masquerade answered coldly.

Those words were enough to get him down. That is what finally did him in.

Gabriel fell to his knees.

“No…”

Gabriel had broken. Masquerade knew she had him.

He was emotionally devastated, to the point where couldn’t even react to the mask coming his way.

____________________________________________________________

Well now things are now hitting their highest points of drama!

Will Ladybug and other heroes be able to stand up to Masquerade?

Will Mayura fall to Simularé's double cross?

Will I EVER update in time?

Tell me your thoughts on the chapter. Your support keeps it alive

[kyberphilosopher]

Reverse Flash

A backwards version of your favorite speedster comes searching for Barry, only to find you instead. 

Word Count: 2403 Warnings: Crude Humor. Not proof read yet because I’m too tired. 

As per my latest fics, the gender of the reader is not specified. 

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Barry was always nice to you.

Well, Barry was nice to everyone. I mean, his parents named him Barry. He was set up for a life of cheekiness before he was even born. But Barry was nice to you even after ‘the incident’. Barry was nice to you when everyone else stopped. On top of that, Barry was being nicer to you than usual lately.

Probably because he and Iris were having a rough spot.

That was the only annoying thing. Barry liked you, and he was interested in you, but you were still second place. He was just using you. He wouldn’t marry you, or feel a deep longing for you. He’d just take you on ice skating rink dates in the winter and give you the best Valentine’s day of your life every year. Which is everyone’s dream, you guess, but it wouldn’t have been genuine, no matter what Barry managed to convince himself.

Barry’s little support team seemed to be on the same page as you (which was a first), which both added to and subdued your aggravation. All of them were in agreement of the simple fact: you were no good for Barry. Mr. Flash was the only one who didn’t seem to get the memo.

In the very beginning, things weren’t like how they were now. Team Flash or whatever the name was considered you good colleague, and they trusted you because Allen trusted you. You had been friends with Barry longer than anyone else there. And of course you were smart, and you handled annoying journalists and incriminating footage like it was nothing. But then you’d suggested using lethal force to subdue one of the Flash’s biggest problems. That’s when the air changed. That’s when people decided you should not now, not ever go on a date with him. It would throw off the whole rhythm of the team, probably Barry’s morals and possible the timeline. Lucky you.

Though flat out rejecting Barry might make it worse. You had been irritable lately. Maybe a little more sarcastic than normal. What if you snap, and then the team snaps too? And sweet little Barry is too kind to tell you off? God, you knew you were the worst, but the thought alone seemed like more than just ‘the worst’. It was like a tornado of stinky shit just barreling toward you, somehow simultaneously faster than the speed of light and slower than a turtle filled with rocks for organs.

And it was all definitely Barry Allen’s fault.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

So, that’s why you’re here now. Stuck with watching Headquarters while all the speedsters go out and... speed. Who knows. You’re out of the loop with the whole... speed demon thing. You’re pretty sure they have a group chat without you. Fuckin’ nerds.

Your legs are stretched out to the desk in front of you. They cross over each other at the ankles, to the left of the big computer monitor that’s supposed to display the heartbeats of the team but is instead displaying something from cartoon network. A near empty bag of Chinese food sits at your side, it’s contents littered across the table.

As you chew, you look around the room. Several suits in display cases curve against the wall in a half circle, illuminated by blue light. Some are burgundy, some are silver, and some are golden. And you could smash every single one of them right now.

But you won’t, and you don’t. Not to say it isn’t tempting- it is. You still don’t touch the suits. 

God, what’s been wrong with you recently? Barry was your friend, and yet you’d been so annoyed with him. His flirting had only made it worse. Wally wasn’t any better. He got even more annoying once thinking about how childish, yet powerful he was. All the Kid Flash’s were just temporary brats that never stayed, whether you  liked them or not. And Iris wasn’t a fan of you. That was fine, because you weren’t exactly a friend of Iris’s either. So the most important part of your life that literally depended on superhuman existence and stopping crime was teetering because of pure social discomfort. Typical.

You’re watching the screen that serves as the closest light in the room as you shovel the next bite of rice between your lips. Neon colors make the shadows across your face feel alive and electric. It makes the glow in your eyes more prominent, encouraged by the childish nature of the media. You’ve just finished a snarky personal comment and given yourself another bite of rice when he appears to you.

He looks like Barry. The only difference is that he’s the complete opposite.

Instead of scarlet, his speed suit is yellow with red and dark grey accents. They remind you of blood lightning at the seams. Even under his half mask, he seems so familiar but so much more defined than your friend. As he exits the slice of colorful air and thunder, the heels of his shoes skidding across the floor, the red glow in his eyes settles into a calmer thrum.

And you’re still frozen in place, eyes wide as you still yourself mid chew.

The yellow speedster settles his orbs on you. They’re intelligent, and in the reflection of the little light in the room you can see they’re not red, but blue. And you? You’re just a deer in the headlights. 

“Aw, you’re not Barry,” he groans in disappointment, standing straighter as his arms cross over his chest. 

You finally continue your chewing, keeping your wide eyes on the intruder. Then you swallow it down. In your chest, your heart thump, thump, thumps with something. Fear? Not quite. Anxiety? Almost. It’s something else. Something more... intuitive. And the way this man looks at you makes you think that he can hear it, even from where he stands. That he knows.

“Uh... no?”

The man responds not a millisecond after you’ve gotten the words out. “Where is he? Where’s Barry Allen?”

Woof. His voice is throaty and laced with sarcasm, even though he’s clearly deathly serious. But the vibrations send a funny spasm straight to that little place between your legs, making the nerves in your spine dance with alertness. Arousal. Barry was never able to do that, let alone with just the sound of his voice.  

“Doing something?” you decide. “I don’t know.”

The golden man cocks his head to the side, almost smirks, and takes a step forward. “Hey, I know you.” His arms uncross. One raises and bends to point at you. “You’re Barry’s tech support. I remember reading about you in his museum.”

Your brows furrow. Hurriedly, you clear the take-out box from your lap and begin wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You drop your legs from their position on the desk to their normal position on the floor, knees bent. “Uh... I beg your pardon?”

“Yeah... Y/N L/N. Now I see it.” The man leans back on his heels and looks around the room. The red glow in his orbs burn away completely so it’s just him. “Ah, so this must be before you defected, huh? Interesting.”

“Pardon?!” you call again. Now you’re sitting forward, disbelief across your face. 

Golden speedster smiles. It looks evilly distorted, even though it’s just a normal smile. It curves his face sarcastically. His hands fly upwards as if in surrender. “Don’t shoot the messenger, Y/N. You know actually, you’re kind of a villain in my time. This is nice for me.”

“Great, I’ll tell Barry when I see him,” you bite.

“Thank you, sweetheart. Now how about you tell me where Barry is before I erase you from existence.”

“I don’t know,” you repeat as the quick bolt of fear fizzles from your system. Your eyes trail down to his chest for just a quick second, but it’s quick enough to observe yet another difference between your familiar scarlet speedster and him. The circle surrounding the lightning bolt on his chest is facing the opposite direction, red, and that circle is filled with black. It’s as if he were the complete opposite of Barry. A reverse Barry. 

“Yeah you do. Come on.”

You blink once, still in your roll-y chair. 

You’re not sure what to do here. On one hand, this guy radiates pure evil. You should really alert Barry or one of the other members of Team Flash. But for one reason or another you’ve made no attempt to. You’ve got no clue who this dude is other than the fact that he seems more inclined to rip the fabric of time apart than anyone else. There’s no doubt in your mind he really will erase you from existence if you make one wrong move. But what’s the wrong move?

On the other hand, Team Flash has been a bunch of dickhead’s to you. Barry has been ironically slow to the whole thing. Would it be so bad if you did make a wrong move? Not for you, but for your friends? They’d all die, wouldn’t they? This yellow one would end them, and then what? Would it really be so horrible for you? You can’t imagine mourning much.

“I don’t,” you say again, slowly. “They’re in the city. I don’t know where.”

The man seems to think for a moment, cocking his head back so the light behind the glass cases catches his sharpened features. “Hmm.”

Without even blinking, now he’s in front of you. So close, you can smell him. It’s not terribly strong, it’s just masculine. But it’s also flowery, with a dash of sweat from running. And then there’s something more. Something... metallic? 

Both his hands clutch the arms of the chair beside you, trapping you as you lean back reflexively. “Did you know that I killed Barry’s childhood best friend before he was born?” the man says lowly. 

On instinct, you prepare yourself to say, ‘Barry doesn’t have a childhood best friend’. Then you realize why. 

He continues. “Would you tell me where Barry was if you did know?”

You don’t even think about it. You’re true to your nature. “I don’t know, would I?”

Blip! You wait to burst into a cloud of nothingness. To never have been born or even get to be a ghost. But fifteen seconds later you’re still alive. And from the way Barry talks about being a Flash, fifteen seconds is a long time for someone of that caliber. 

The man is back by the cases of suits now. You can see his muscles through his suit. They’re more defined than Barry’s, thank God. 

“I think you would. But it’s gonna be hard to do that when you’ve got my fingers vibrating into your skull.”

“What?”

“It’s going to be hard to speak when my fingers are inside you.”

You cup a hand against your ear. “Huh?”

“I said-” The man stops. His eyes narrow, arms crossing over his chest once more. “Oh, I see.” A short, dry- but genuine- laugh falls from his throat. “Very funny. Very, very funny.”

Suddenly, your eyebrows crease together in confusion. You place both palms on the arms of the chair for leverage as you push yourself into a stand, as if stirred by some great, important purpose. “Wait. Did you say you were going to stick your fingers inside me?”

“I knew you and I were the same,” he drawls. He sounds entertained. As if in his eyes, missing Barry and meeting you instead was the best outcome he could’ve hoped for. 

“Can’t you just...” Your shoulders slump as you glance around. “Just kill Barry and get on with it?”

“Aw, no. This is far more interesting.”

“Fingers in my skull...?” you whisper, half to yourself. Then you look up to him with a snap. “You are so weird,” you tell Reverse Barry, emphasizing it with a low point. “So weird.”

“Want me to tell your future?” 

Again with the voice and the nerves in that special place. 

“I gotta say, it’s kind of disturbing,” the man smirks. “You’ll love it.”

“Weird.”

Across the base, just two hallways away, something clicks. It’s a familiar click. It’s the click of the door opening. 

Quickly, you glance backwards, then lean down to pause the show on the computer. You hadn’t even realized it was still going. Once that’s done, the man is still standing in front of you. That sinister and yet innocent grin is still dancing across his face, though his steely eyes are totally locked on you. 

“What, weirdo? You know where he is now. Aren’t you gonna go get him?”

“You want me to so badly, don’t you?” Reverse Barry whispers. You just give him a look. 

“I’ll be back for you.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

And then the speedster is gone. Right on time, too, cause Barry jogs into the room not a second later. 

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?” you turn around. 

“Did I just... see someone here?” Barry points towards your end of the room in his scarlet suit. Huh. Reverse Barry was taller too. 

“What are you on about?” you throw casually. “Nobody’s been here but me since you left.”

“Are you sure?” the Flash keeps pushing. You hate it. Pushing. 

“Yes, Barry,” you roll your eyes. “I’m sure. Oh, by the way, Barry. Did you have a childhood best friend?”

Barry frowns. “No, why?”

You smile to yourself as you turn back away from him. The other speedster’s footsteps are coming closer and closer. You can hear them echo off the walls. 

“No reason,” you answer with a smirk just as one of them enters the room, probably to give you crap again.

.✫*ﾟ･ﾟ｡.★.*｡･ﾟ✫*.

Fun fact, Reverse Flash is actually my favorite villain in DC comics. Bro is vicious in the comics. I just hate all the live action versions of him we get. Lego DC Villains Reverse Flash and Injustice 2 are the best versions. Injustice 2 is my personal preference. I’d like to do more with this but, who knows. Depends how this is received. #lol