#possibly a mistake to post this the same day as the pride event announcements

[robo-cryptid]

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: Overwatch (Video Game) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Cole Cassidy/Hanzo Shimada Characters: Hanzo Shimada, Cole Cassidy (Overwatch) Additional Tags: Horror, Blood and Gore, Scion Hanzo Shimada, Van Helsing Cole Cassidy (Overwatch), Monster Hunters, Supernatural Elements, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic Summary:

A monster stalks the streets of Hanamura. It threatens Hanzo's family, his business, and the people he has sworn to protect. He has hired six seasoned hunters; six seasoned hunters have died. Cole Cassidy will be the seventh.

[criminalmindzjunkie]

The Reward of Suffering

next chapter

Summary: A retelling of the events of season 12 episode 13. 

Gif credit to the wonderful and talented @imagining-in-the-margins​

A/N: After several months of contemplation, I have finally decided to post part one of my first ever fic on Tumblr! This fic will follow the event of Spencer’s prison arc, so needless to say there will be SPOILERS. This first part is super long, but I felt that it needed to be in order to set up the plot. I hope you all enjoy reading! If you would like to be tagged on future updates, let me know!

Pairing: Spencer Reid/Fem! Reader

Warnings: no smut (yet), mentions of past frug use, cursing, typical CM case talk

Word count: 12.1k

           “Reid is in jail.”

           I felt the color immediately drain from my face and an intense feeling of dread began to wash through my body. I sat up in my chair, back ramrod straight. I briefly looked towards the faces of my teammates, Luke and JJ to my left and Penelope to my right. Their faces were all contorted, displaying varying degrees of shock and confusion. It was hard for any of us to process what we were hearing. The idea of Spencer Reid, the same Spencer who wore a mask to the office on Halloween and put on elaborate magic shows for everyone’s children, doing anything that would warrant being put behind bars was preposterous.

           Surely, this is all just a big misunderstanding.

           “Jail?” Penelope squeaked out. My eyes flitted to her, taking note of the way her eyebrows were drawn together in disbelief. She was thinking the same thing I’m sure we all were; that there was no way Spencer Reid had engaged in any illegal activity. Spencer was a well-educated, highly regarded FBI agent, for Christ sake. He knew the laws of the land better than any of us.

           “In Mexico.”

My attention focused solely on Emily. In the few weeks since I had come to know her, I had begun to look at her not only as a sort of fearless leader, but also as a kind of fiercely loyal friend that I was incredibly lucky to have. Emily somehow managed to find the perfect balance between being accommodating and stern. She was the kind of boss you could have a drink and cut up with after a long day, but she also carried herself in a way that demanded the utmost respect in the workplace. Emily Prentiss’s bravery was unmatched, and I admired her for that.

It shook me to my core when her eyes met mine and I saw the pure, unbridled fear in them. If Emily was scared, then this must be leagues worse than we could have ever imagined.

“What the hell is he doing down there?” JJ asked, crossing her arms and shuffling from one foot to the other.

“I don’t know. I didn’t talk to him. The call came in to Cruz from their lead investigator.”

Luke was the next to chime in. “What’s he being held for?”

“Drug possession,” Rossi said, before taking on, “with intent to distribute.”

For the second time that day, it felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. Images of Spencer sitting across from me in a dimly lit coffee shop, tripping over his words as he confided in me, spilling his deepest and darkest secrets in a voice barely above a whisper. His voice had grown stronger as he neared the end of his story and he had dug deep in his satchel, producing a small golden coin. We both had tears in our eyes as we looked at the writing engraved into the coin; unity, service recovery. Spencer Reid was ten years sober, and the pride on his face was as clear as day.

There was no way he would throw all of that away.

“What type of drugs?”

“Cocaine and heroin,” Rossi said, his voice shaky.

Rossi and Spencer had always had a good relationship. Spencer had admired his work long before he met him, having read and reread every book he had ever published. It had delighted Spencer that he and Rossi had managed to develop rapport so quickly. Rossi was the only one talented enough at the game of chess to even think of giving Spencer a run for his money, though many of us had tried. In one of many hushed conversations shared on the jet, he had once told me that he had begun to think of Rossi as somewhat of a father figure; he didn’t quite fill the role in the same way Gideon had, but Spencer was thankful just the same. One look at Rossi’s troubled expression was enough to tell me that the feelings were definitely mutual.

“Oh my God. This can’t be happening.” JJ was positively crestfallen, clutching a hand against her own chest in an attempt to ground herself. Her other hand came up to her face as she absentmindedly pushed her hair away.

“We need Lewis and Walker here, ASAP,” Emily directed her order and Penelope, who was quick to comply.

Everyone sprang into action, but I found myself unable to move, weighed down by the deeply unsettling circumstance. It felt as if I was no longer in my own body, like I was watching everything unfold from an outsider’s perspective. Maybe I am, I thought. Maybe this is all just some horrible nightmare. Any second now, my alarm will go off and this will all be over.

I waited and waited for my alarm to sound, but that never happened. Instead, Emily crouched down in front of me, grasping my arm firmly in her right hand.

“I know how devastated you must be. Trust me, I do,” she sympathized, her deep brown eyes boring into my own. “But Reid’s going to need you now more than ever. You’re his best friend and you know him better than anyone. Did he ever mention to you that he was going to Mexico?”

I shook my head numbly, my motions feeling alien and stilted.

“Never. He told me the same thing he told you; that he was going to Houston for a few days to meet with his mother’s doctor,” I whispered. I feared that if I raised my voice any higher, tears would begin to fall. Maintaining my composure was becoming harder with every passing second, and I wasn’t exactly privy to breaking down in front of my boss. “I guess I don’t know him as well as I thought.”

Emily sighed, letting go of my arm before straightening up.

“Apparently, none of us did. But I know damn well that this has to be a mistake. We’ll get him out of this.”

           The apprehension in her voice told me that even she wasn’t sure we could pull this one off.

--

           “This has got to be Scratch,” Tara stated, her voice wafting through the speakers of Luke’s laptop. Emily, Rossi, Luke and I were currently in the jet, on our way to the jail where Spencer was being held. All of us were huddled close together around the computer, listening on with eager ears. “He was laying low, and now we know why.”

           “Crossing the border as a fugitive is a huge risk,” Luke pointed out.

           “The reward is even greater. He’s been punishing the team, and now his target is Reid.” Emily’s voice was full of frustration and contempt.

           “Peter Lewis dropped off the map after attacking Tara’s family,” Stephen chimed in. Not even his deep baritone voice could do anything to calm my frazzled nerves. “Maybe he’s been hiding in Mexico this whole time.”

           “We also have to consider that it isn’t related to him,” I murmured. Several pairs of eyes locked on me, shocked. I had been uncharacteristically quiet since this whole ordeal began, limiting my responses to one word replies and hums of acknowledgement. On a normal day, I’d be throwing in my two cents any time I saw fit. Today, I was struggling just to keep breathing.

           “Who else would it be?” Rossi asked.

           “Drug cartels. Could’ve threatened Reid and used him as a mule.” Saying his name was painful, because it reminded me that we weren’t just talking about a victim with whom we had no personal ties; we were talking about our colleague and beloved friend.

           “Agreed,” Rossi nodded. “This could simply be a case of bad luck. Reid was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

           “Spencer’s mom is okay.” JJ’s announcement was like music to my ears. I let out an audible sigh of relief. “The home nurse he hired said all is stable.”

           “How long did he tell the nurse he’d be gone?”

           “Three days.”

           “That sounds reasonable. After the Palm Springs case, Reid said he had to get back to Houston to talk to his mom’s doctor,” Emily interjected. I nodded along in agreement. He’d told me the same thing when I talked to him the night before last.

The fatigue in his voice had alerted me to the fact that things hadn’t been going so well with his mother. Her condition had been rapidly deteriorating in the recent months, prompting Spencer to make the tough decision to remove her from the assisted living facility she was at and into his own apartment. His main argument had been that no one could possibly take better care of his mother that him; that he was familiar with her condition and how best to respond when she had an episode. When I had asked him how he was handling it all, he was quick to reassure me that it was not anything he couldn’t handle.

Spencer’s loyalty ran deep; so deep that I knew he would do anything in his power to take care of Diana, but I’d never imagined that it would land him in fucking jail.

“Well, Houston is only a five-hour drive from the border,” Tara mused. “The question is, why did he go down there?”

“And why does he have narcotics?” Rossi was the first to speak on what was at the forefront of everyone’s mind.

“Yeah, exactly. He wouldn’t… He wouldn’t do that. Those drugs were planted on him,” Penelope insisted.

“Absolutely, but there’s something bigger in play. That’s why he crossed the border and kept it a secret. There’s something he didn’t want to share with any of you.”

I cringed at Stephen’s choice of wording. Spencer and I were as close as two people could be, and there was nothing I withheld from him. He knew everything about me, every dark and embarrassing thought that had ever crossed my mind; yet, he accepted me just the same. I had always assumed that it went both ways, that he was just as honest and forthcoming with me as I was with him. It hurt to know that there were things he kept from me, secrets that he felt he couldn’t trust me with.

But most of all, it absolutely gutted me to think that he was dealing with something so horrible that it landed him in jail, and he that he had to do it all alone.

“Okay, so what would make him risk everything?” Emily pondered aloud.

“His mom.” My answer was instantaneous.

A ping sounded from the other end of the video call, and we all leaning in, our interest piqued.

“Cruz just sent me the arresting report,” Penelope announced, clicking away at her computer before continuing. “It says here that Reid was involved in a high-speed chase.”

“What?” I choked out, my voice coming out several pitches higher than usual. “Spencer hardly ever drives.” I could feel my stomach begin to churn, bile threatening to force its way up my esophagus. This isn’t right, I wanted to scream. Our Spencer would never get himself involved in something that would put himself or others at risk.

“None of this sounds like him,” Penelope whispered, her thoughts mimicking my own. “It says he was wearing jeans and a baseball cap and that he was really confused. According to the arresting officer, he was really high on something.”

Unity, service, respect; ten years sober. All down the fucking drain.

I shot up from my seat, bolting down the walkway and into the bathroom. I immediately fell to my knees, barely managing to push my hair out of the way before retching into the toilet bowl. I continued like this for several minutes, only pausing momentarily when I felt large, soothing hands running up and down my back. Soft murmurings of reassurance alerted me to the fact that it was Luke who was sitting with me. I let out a strained ‘thank you’ before another wave of nausea hit me, rendering me speechless. Luke held my hair back, never once leaving my side.

When I had thrown up the entirety of my breakfast and all I could do was dry heave, I slumped back against the wall, relishing in how cool it felt against my flushed skin. A stretch of silence passed before he decided to break it.

“That was an extreme reaction,” Luke pointed out, still sitting in the floor with his legs crisscrossed. I noticed how closely he was watching me, his eyes focused on reading my expressions. He was profiling me, that much was obvious. It was an unspoken rule between us all that we would never profile one another, but any fight I had left in me had long since dissipated.

“He worked so hard to get clean, Luke. I wasn’t around when it happened, but he told me about it. He was so proud of himself,” I whispered. My throat was now raw and my voice came out more than a little bit hoarse.

Luke’s eyebrows came together, confusion clear on his face.

“Get clean? What are you talking about?”

I let out a shuddery breath. It felt wrong to divulge information on Spencer’s personal life; like I was betraying his trust. Given the circumstance, I supposed he wouldn’t mind, but it still felt treacherous and left a bad taste in my mouth. Sorry, Spence.

“Ten years ago, Reid was kidnapped by an unsub with DID. He kept him in a remote cabin for several days, alternating between beating him senseless and shooting him full of so much hydromorphone that he couldn’t remember his own name. At one point, he even,” I trailed off, hot tears spilling out of my eyes and running down my cheeks. Luke took my hand in his in an act of reassurance, his way of telling me not to rush. Luke hadn’t been with us for long, and our interactions thus far hadn’t gone much farther than conversations about work. Seeing the way he was offering himself up to me as a confidant and shoulder to cry on made me feel guilty for ever having written him off.

Thank God for Luke Alvez.

After a long pause, I managed to continue. “Spencer ended up having a seizure and he died for several minutes. The unsub’s more benevolent personality, Tobias, was able to resuscitate him. Eventually Spencer was able to take him down, but the trauma mixed with the exposure to such a highly addictive drug led to him developing a dependence on it.”

Luke swore and ran a hand through his hair.

“I never would’ve guessed it. The kid carries himself so well.”

A small, fond smile tugged at the corner of my lips.

“He’s amazing, really. He detoxed all by himself and started going to NA meetings. This past October marked ten years. We celebrated by going to one of those really fancy museums he likes and he insisted on taking the guided tour so that he could see how many errors the guide would make,” I let out a light laugh at the memory. “Every time they’d get something wrong, he’d lean down whisper the correct information so that only I could hear it. I don’t think I’d ever seen him that happy,” I reminisced, allowing myself to forget about the current situation for the tiniest of moments. I wondered if I’d ever get to experience a day like that with Spencer ever again.

“You two are close, I take it?”

I nodded. Luke had fit in with the group so seamlessly that I had forgotten that he had only been with us for a short time. He didn’t really know the dynamics of everything yet.

“He’s my best friend.”

Luke hummed, and I could feel his eyes looking at me inquisitively.

“And that boyfriend of yours, he doesn’t mind?” Okay, maybe Luke was a little bit more perceptive than he let on.

Gavin and I had begun dating at the end of my first year with the BAU. He and I had meet in the most cliché of ways; bumping into each other in the cereal aisle at the grocery store. Gavin was more than a little bit handsome, but what had reeled me in had been the way he taken one look at the box of cereal in my cart and immediately scrunched his nose up in disgust.

“Plain Cheerios? Are you some sort of masochist, or something?” he had asked, a playful lilt to his voice. Normally, if a strange man had approached me in public, I would’ve been quick to express my disinterest. If my job had taught me anything, it was that a woman being approached by a strange man was a recipe for trouble. But something about him seemed wholly unthreatening, and I couldn’t help but laugh at his forwardness, raising an eyebrow at him.

“As if your choice is any better. Lucky Charms? What are you, six?”

“Don’t even go there. Lucky Charms are magically delicious, thank you very much,” he sniffed, feigning superiority. “And if we’re touching on the subject of age, the only person I know that eats plain Cheerios is my eighty-six-year-old grandmother. You look a bit young to be worrying about heart health, and I refuse to believe that you actually enjoy the taste, so what gives?”

“First of all, I find it concerning that you are so familiar with cereal slogans,” I breezed, leaning against my shopping cart. “Second, I am curious; do you make it a habit to harass people about their cereal preferences?”

“Only if they’re cute.”

And that had been that. Several dates later he had asked me to be his girlfriend over a dinner he had attempted to make himself. I said yes and he kissed me, nearly knocking over his plate of burnt chicken parmesan in the process.

“We, uh, have an understanding. He knows that Spencer and I are just good friends.”

Gavin and I did have an understanding, but it wasn’t a very solid one. In fact, I was sure that he damn near despised Spencer’s very existence. He had done a good job at hiding it for a while, but after coming home one night from an impromptu movie night with Spencer, he had revealed to me that he had a jealous streak a mile long. I reassured him that there was absolutely nothing that he needed to worry about, but I could tell he didn’t believe a word of it. Gavin had out flat demanded that I cut all ties with Spencer, and I had laughed in his face.

“I’m not the kind of girl that likes to be told what to do. Either you learn to live with him being a part of my life, or you can find someone else to boss around, because I can tell you right now, that won’t fly with me.”

My threat had proven to be effective, and he had apologized, and that had been the end of that. He still wasn’t fond of the idea that Spencer and I were such close friends, but he hadn’t tried to proposition me with any more ridiculous ultimatums.

“That’s good to hear,” Luke hummed, squeezing my hand before rising to his feet. I could tell that he didn’t necessarily buy into what I was saying, but I was thankful that he didn’t press it any further. “What do you say we go back out there. We’ve got to be getting close by now.”

I nodded and he helped me to my feet. I bent down to the faucet, swishing some water in my mouth before spitting it out.

When Luke and I returned to our seats, I was immediately aware of the way Rossi and Emily were eyeing me; like I was a delicate thing that needed to be handled with kid gloves.

I absolutely hated it.

“Sorry about that. It won’t happen again,” I said, before turning my attention back to the video call and saying, “so, what did we miss?”

--

The police station was surprisingly small. The hallways were narrow and the light bulbs above me gave off an almost green tint, casting an eerie glow on the place. The sounds of disgruntled detainees calling out drifted through the hallways, sounding akin to the moaning of a ghost. My eyes darted around constantly as we walked, the uneasy feeling in my stomach growing with every step we took towards the heart of the precinct.

“Thank you for calling us.” Emily’s words were directed at the police officer, Chief Castenada, who was leading us down the hall. He was a short man with graying hair and a seemingly permanent frown etched into his face. It didn’t take a genius to deduce that he wasn’t happy that four federal agents were in his jail.

“A U.S. fed in our custody isn’t something we see every day,” the man said, his tone entirely unfriendly. I grimaced.

“Have you gotten any of his tox screen panels back yet?” I prodded, quickening the pace of my strides until I was walking alongside him. He looked down at me like I was a pesky gnat that he wanted to bat away.

“No.”

Color me unsurprised.

“You’ll need to expedite that. We have cause to believe that Doctor Reid was drugged.”

“He was definitely high and driving like a bat out of Hell. Not to mention he had $20,000 worth of heroin in his possession,” he sneered, ceasing to walk and staring down at me with distaste. “Both of which put my officers at risk. You’re in our jurisdiction. Don’t forget that. The rules are different here.”

I opened my mouth, ready to fire back with some smart-assery of my own, but a hand at my elbow stopped me. I turned and saw that it was Luke, who nodded his head to the left of us. I looked in the direction he was referring to, and I felt my heart shatter into a million pieces.

Just up ahead was a holding cell with several poorly constructed benches in the center of it. On the very first row of seats sat Spencer, who had seemingly retreated in to himself. He was hunched over, his arms wrapped pitifully around himself, much like you’d imagine a child might do to keep warm. Spencer’s clothes were tattered and dirty and a bandage adorned his right hand. His usually beautiful chestnut curls were flying around his head in a mess of tangles and dirt. Despite the fact that Spencer towered over most of us, I couldn’t help but notice how incredibly small he looked.

Even as awful as he looked in his current state, a direct contradiction of the way he usually presented himself, I’d never been happier to lay my eyes on someone in my life.

My feet carried me forward before my brain had time to catch up. I closed the distance between me and the cell, pausing and taking a good, long look at him before allowing myself to speak. He hadn’t noticed me standing there yet. His gaze was instead trained on something at the other end of the room, his eyes red rimmed and glassy and his face completely slack.

“Spence?” I called out, the nickname falling from my lips like a prayer. In a way I suppose it was; a prayer that he was alright, that the horrible things Penelope had told us about were nothing but a horrible lie. At first, I was worried that he hadn’t heard me or that he was too out of his mind to even register the sound of my voice. Just when I opened my mouth to speak again, he turned his head in way that I would have described as comically slow if the situation hadn’t been so serious. The spacey look in his eyes told me that my prayers wouldn’t be answered.

Spencer’s eyes locked with mine, but his face remained completely blank, devoid of all expression. I stood there for a moment, dumbfounded, until it hit me like a ton of bricks; he had no clue who I was.

I wanted to be mad. I wanted to scream at him, to ask him how could he forget me, of all people. My anger was irrational and unfair, but I couldn’t help it. While I understood that it was no fault of his own, that the drugs coursing through his veins were to blame, it didn’t make it hurt any less.

I swallowed down the emotions that threatened to spill out, pushing them down into the depths of my being. I couldn’t let my emotional attachment hinder my judgment. I needed to be as vigilant as ever, no, more vigilant. The fate of my favorite person in the whole world depended on it.

“It’s me, Y/N,” I explained, keeping my voice as steady as I could manage. “It’s good to see you, Spencer. You’re a sight for sore eyes.”

He watched me for a moment before standing and making his way to where I was leaning against the bars.

“Y/N,” Spencer murmured when he reached me, as if testing my name out to see how it rolled off of his tongue. His stare was still vacant, but having him in front of me after worrying about his wellbeing for the last five hours was more than enough for now. I’d take him however I could have him. “Thank you for coming.”

“Of course, we came,” I murmured, my eyes raking over every inch of his body for any signs of distress. Other than the bandage on his hand, he seemed to be in one piece.

Rossi was quick to join me, coming to a stop at my left.

“We’re going to get you out of here, kid,” he reassured, his tone more serious than I’d ever heard it.

           “We need to work out some details with the locals, okay?” Emily said, waiting for a response but getting none.

           “Who was your contact down here?” Luke asked.

           Spencer was quicker to respond this time.

           “Rosa,” he mumbled as he grabbed his shirt sleeve and pulled it up. On his inner arm, the name Rosa Medina was written in what was undoubtably his own handwriting. Spencer was notorious around the office for having the worst handwriting. I like to blame it on the fact that he was a doctor, which always elicited a laugh from him. “I think she’s a doctor.”

           Luke pulled his phone out from his pocket, snapping a picture of the name.

           “Where did you meet her?”

           Spencer shook his head and a frown pulled down at the corner of his lips.

           “I… I don’t remember.”

           “If you saw her, would you remember her?”

           Spencer nodded in affirmation.

           “You’re missing time, aren’t you?” I asked, causing him to look at me once more. His brows furrowed together and he was nodding again, slightly surer of himself this time.

           “It’s peeking out. It’s coming in flashes.”

           “And you’ve been drugged?”

           I didn’t know it was possible for his face to fall any more, but the look of shame that manifested itself when he registered my words was absolutely heartbreaking.

           “Yeah, but I didn’t take it myself,” he insisted, a spark of life burning bright in the depths of his eyes. Somewhere in there, under the haze of narcotics, was the same Spencer that had fought tooth and nail for his sobriety all those years ago. My heart broke for him.

           “Of course, you didn’t, Spence. We know that,” I said, almost reaching out to touch him before thinking better of it. “We’re thinking it might be Scratch.”

           Just like before, when I had first spoken to him, absolutely no sign of recognition showed itself on his face.

           “Scratch,” he muttered detachedly, much the same as before.

           Luke’s phone rang then and he excused himself for a moment before stepping away. I looked to Rossi and Emily, who seemed to also be at a loss for words. The silence that filled the room was excruciating, and I once again started to feel like the walls were closing in on me. I wanted nothing more than to scream, to cry out in frustration. The whole situation was unfair in a way that I didn’t think was possible. I was a big believer in karma; put good in and get good out, or something like that. But now, standing outside of a holding cell that looked more like a dungeon than anything, I was ready to throw away that belief entirely.

Of all the people that I know, Spencer was the least deserving of something like this.

           Just when I began to consider ducking outside for a breath of fresh air, Luke returned.

           “Hey, the team sent this. Is this the doctor you met?” he asked, pointing to a picture of a woman he had pulled up on his phone. The woman was of Mexican descent, with short, choppy gray hair. She appeared to be middle aged, from what I could guess.

           Spencer stared at the picture before nodding.

           “Her alias is Rosa Medina and her real name is Nadi Ramos. Garcia tracked her to a motel just outside of town. Does that sound familiar?”

           Spencer’s brows furrowed and his shoulders slumped in defeat.

           “No.”

           “Okay, we’ll need to take Castenada and his officers with us,” Emily announced, before turning and heading towards the door.

           “Do you want company here?” Rossi asked.

           Spencer seemed to take a moment to process before answering with an almost imperceptible nod. He turned his head and focused his gaze on me.

           “Can… Can you stay?”

           Rossi turned to face me too, raising an eyebrow as if to say ‘are you okay with this?’ I gave him what I hoped was a convincing smile. Honestly, I wasn’t entirely sure that I could handle this; the this that I am referring to being a nearly catatonic Spencer Reid. I was used to the Spencer who regaled me with interesting tidbits of information whenever there was a lull in conversation. The Spencer that stood before me now was a shell of his former self, and that terrified me.

           “I’ll be fine here. Let me know if you guys find anything,” I told Rossi. He nodded once to me before enveloping me in a tight hug.

           “Resta forte mia piccolo colomba,” Rossi murmured in my ear. I hadn’t a clue what the phrase meant, but the words draped over me like a warm blanket. Suddenly the weight of the current situation didn’t seem so heavy, and I felt immensely thankful that a man like David Rossi was in my life.

           Rossi pressed his lips to the top of my head before releasing me. He gave one last, despairing look to Spencer before hurrying off after Luke and Emily. It could’ve been the light playing tricks on me, or maybe the exhaustion, but when Rossi turned away from us, I swear I saw tears welling in his eyes.

           And then there were two.

           I took glance at my watch for the first time all day, cringing when I saw the time to be 8:17PM. Quantico was an hour ahead, meaning Gavin was probably losing his shit wondering where I was. I sighed, fishing my phone out of my back pocket and turning it on.

           “Spence, I’m going to make a phone call really quick,” I murmured. He offered no reply, just as I had come to expect. He was watching me, standing stock still in the same place he had been the entire time. I moved to stand in the doorway, hopefully far enough away that he couldn’t hear me anymore.

           As soon as my phone booted up, a plethora of notifications came through. Seventeen missed calls and twenty-four unread text messages, to be exact. I decided to forgo reading the messages, instead pressing the return call button and tapping my foot anxiously against the floor. Gavin didn’t keep me waiting long, picking up on the very first ring.

           “About time you answer your goddamn phone,” he hissed out. “Do you know how worried I’ve been? I even called your office phone and no one would answer that, either. What the fuck is going on? Where are you?”

           “I’m… In Mexico.”

           A long pause followed and I held my breath, waiting for the onslaught to begin.

           “You left the country without even bothering to tell me?” Gavin asked, his voice raising in volume. I could picture him now; probably sitting on our sofa, fists balled together and jaw clenched. “Would you like to enlighten me as to why you’re in Mexico?”

           I closed my eyes, frustration bubbling deep inside me. Today was arguably the shittiest day of my entire life, and I certainly didn’t need Gavin harping on about how I hadn’t been in touch. Honestly, informing him of my whereabouts had been the furthest thing from my mind.

           “It’s Spencer,” I began, trying to think of the proper way to word it all. “He got into some… trouble. We think he’s being framed by Scratch.”

           “Isn’t that the guy that just went after Tara’s family?”

           “Yeah, it is. He’s been laying low for the past few months, and I guess he was just building up to all of this. It’s really bad, Gav,” I whispered the last bit, hoping that Spencer couldn’t hear me. If he did, he made no move that indicated it. “He’s high out of his mind and can’t remember anything.”

           “How long will you guys be there?” Gavin asked, completely ignoring the fact that I mentioned Spencer at all. I bit down on my bottom lip to keep from saying something I might regret. I understand that he doesn’t like the guy, but he could show some common decency and at least pretend.

           “I’m not entirely sure. Rossi, Emily, and Luke just headed out to go check on a lead. I don’t know how long that’ll take.”

           “Wait, so, where are you?”

           “I’m at the jail with Spencer, why?” I inquired, running my hand through my hair and absentmindedly combing out the knots that had formed. I was sure that I looked a right mess, but I couldn’t be too bothered to care.

           “Let me get this straight. They left you alone with a guy who is wasted on God knows what, not knowing how he’ll react to it?” A bitter laugh flowed through the phone speaker. “Sounds like you don’t exactly work with the smartest bunch. What if he tries to attack you or something?”

           I let his words hang in the air for a moment, unable to formulate a reply that wasn’t something like you’re being an absolute fucking dick bag right now. No, I was a grown woman and I was going to communicate like one, despite the fact that his ignorant reply was making me shake with rage.

           “The first thing I’m going to address is the fact that this is not some guy. We’re talking about my best friend and teammate, and his name is Spencer. Use it,” I said through gritted teeth. “The second thing is that he’s not some wild animal. He’s not going to try to come through the bars and pounce on me. What he’s going through right now is traumatic, and he doesn’t need to be left alone right now. Show some compassion.”

           “Yeah, okay, I’m sorry,” Gavin muttered. It was the most unapologetic apology I’d ever heard in my life, prompting me to roll my eyes. I don’t understand how I can love someone and want to throttle them simultaneously. “I’m just worried about you, is all. How are you holding up?”

           “I’m as good as can be expected,” I sighed, bringing my free hand up to rub at my eyes. “I’m just tired of watching this guy terrorize all of my friends. First, he takes Hotch from us, then he nearly kills Tara’s brother, and now this. I’m beginning to think we’ll never catch a break.”

           “I know you’re tired, baby. Just try to hang on a little bit longer. As much as I question some of their decisions, your team is good at what they do. You guys will catch him. I have faith in you.”

           There it is. That’s the Gavin that I fell in love with.

           “Thank you,” I murmured. “It’s been a long day and I needed to hear that.” I cast a glance back at Spencer, who was now staring down at his bandaged hand, an indiscernible expression on his face. He looked so lost, standing all alone in the grimy holding cell. The lights cast shadows on his face, making his already angular face look gaunt. The Spencer I knew was the human embodiment of light; filling up every room he was in with his delightfully idiosyncratic presence. The Spencer in the cell was so shrouded in darkness that the room seemed to be swallowing him whole, taking his brilliance and crushing it into smithereens.

“Gav, I think I need to get back in there.”

           “Yeah, alright. Just keep me in the loop this time, please. I don’t like not knowing where my girlfriend is.”

           “I’ll make sure to check in whenever I can,” I promised, before tacking on a, “love you.”

           “Love you, too.”

           I pocketed my phone with hands that shook, no longer from rage but from apprehension. I liked to think that I was good at my job. I had done well at the academy; not well enough to have graduated at the top of my class, but I did manage to be in the top ten. After lucking into the job of a lifetime, I had fully committed myself to learning to be the best profiler I could possibly be. Two years of piecing together the innerworkings of criminal minds had taught me more than I ever could have imagined about the human psyche. I had talked many a deranged psychopath down from the ledge, and I had saved more than a few lives along the way. Unfortunately, not all cases can end favorably. Those are the ones that taught me the most.

           For all that I learned, nothing could’ve prepared me to deal with the shell of a man that stood before me.

           I was standing in front of him now, fiddling nervously with my hands. When Spencer had originally told me about his battle with addiction, I had taken it upon myself to do some research of my own. I wanted to be able to identify the signs, God forbid he ever relapse. While conducting my research, I had read somewhere that the best way to support someone during a come down is by remaining positive and creating a calm, safe environment.

           I was currently the antithesis of calm, but for Spencer’s sake, I was going to do my best.

           I took a step forward and offered him a small smile.

           “I’ve never seen you in jeans and boots before,” I said. I was proud of myself when the words came out sounding relatively casual. “It’s a good look on you, but I have to admit I prefer the academic look. I suppose it’s the sapiosexual in me.”

           He gave no response, but the tinniest tug at the corner of his mouth told me that he found my comment amusing.

           I let my eyes drag over him again and I fixated on the bandage on his right hand, frowning.

           “Do you remember what happened to your hand?”

           Spencer raised his hand up, absentmindedly flipping it over and inspecting it.

           “I don’t know,” he murmured. Spencer’s usually high pitched voice came out gravely, no doubt a byproduct of dehydration related to the drugs. My eyes skimmed across the holding cell and I frowned when I saw no water fountain in sight.

           “M’ gonna go get you some water, okay?” I turned away and pivoted on my heel, taking one step before a hand wrapped around my upper arm. I spun around so fast I nearly caught whiplash.

           Spencer’s eyes were wide and full of panic, conveying more emotion than he’d had since we’d arrived. His eyebrows were drawn together as well, contorting his face into a pitiful expression.

           “Don’t go,” he rasped, his hand still firmly grasping my arm. “Please.”

           The hopelessness in his voice was like a dagger through my heart. I nodded fervently and placed my hand over his, prompting him to loosen his grip. He did, and I took his hand in both of mine. I rubbed my thumbs over his skin, haphazardly tracing patterns in an attempt to calm him.

           “Yeah, okay. I’m not going anywhere, I promise,” I soothed, bringing his hand up to my mouth and placing a chaste kiss to the skin. “I’ve got you, Spence. It’s all going to be okay.”

           The look of panic slowly washed away the longer we stood there. He held onto my hands like I was a lifeline, the only thing tethering him to the ground. While I longed for nothing more than to really embrace him, to pull all of him into my arms and hold on for dear life, the bars that separated us inhibited me from doing so. So instead I just relished in the feel of his hand intertwined with my own.

           It would have to be enough for now.

--

           Nadi Ramos was dead.

           I didn’t have to ask Emily to know that the situation had gone from bad to absolutely fucking terrible. We knew Scratch was a horrendous individual; that much had been proved by his preferred modus operandi. We also knew that he had become fixated on taking down each of us one by one. He’d tried twice with Hotch, even going as far as to target his son, resulting in the two of them joining WITSEC for their own safety. The next blow had come when he had set his sights on Tara, or, more specifically, her brother. We’d gotten lucky with that one, having located and freed her brother just in the nick of time. After the incident with Tara’s brother, we all expected the next attack to come in quick succession. When several months passed with no sign of Scratch, we all became terribly on edge. No one was saying it, but we all were waiting to see which one of us would be next, crossing our fingers and hoping it wouldn’t be us.

           I knew that none of us were exempt from Scratch’s wrath, but for some reason, I’d never imagined him targeting Spencer.

           And target him he fucking did.

           “We know you didn’t do this,” Emily spoke for the group, knowing good and well that we were all on the same page.

           “How did it happen?” Spencer’s back was to us. His shoulders were slumped and his face downturned.

           “She was stabbed multiple times. It looked personal,” Luke answered, his voice low and careful. It was obvious to us all that he was being extra careful with his wording, making sure to broach the subject carefully. We all knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that Spencer was innocent; but that didn’t mean that Spencer did.

           Chief Castenada trudged into the holding cell, the portrait of all things cranky and unpleasant. His presence acted as a proverbial storm cloud on an already shitty day.

           “We got the results of your blood work. There’s cocaine and heroin in your system.”

           “What else?” Emily asked, causing Castenada to give her a confused look.

           “He was in possession of cocaine and heroin when he was arrested. I found what I needed.”

           I felt myself bristle and before I knew it, my mouth was open and I was spouting out pure venom.

           “Thanks so much for doing the bare minimum, but we’re going to need a full tox screen panel. We’re looking for scopolamine.”

           Emily’s eyes cut over to me and if I hadn’t been fighting on Spencer’s behalf, I would’ve withered under the weight of the shut the fuck up look she gave me. Instead, I continued on, silently praying I’d still have a job after today.

           “It’ll take longer, but we need it,” I explained in what I hoped was a slightly more accommodating tone. Castenada gave a curt nod in reply before exiting the room, grumbling something in Spanish that had Luke and Emily shooting daggers at his retreating figure.

           “Do I want to know?”

           Luke shook his head, shooting a small smile in my direction.

           “Let’s just say he’s not your biggest fan, and we’ll leave it at that,” he offered, before straightening out his expression and turning back to Spencer. “You were given a speed ball. The opiates block the dopamine in your brain. That’s why things go from clear to hazy. The combination of the drugs causes a dissociative state and explains the memory loss. Are you coming down now?”

           “I think so,” Spencer said. His cadence wasn’t as slow as it had been earlier, which was a relief.

           “Do you think you could do a cognitive interview?” Emily’s voice was hopeful, and if Spencer was one thing, it was a people pleaser. It was obvious that he was overwhelmed; I had taken note of the fact that he was displaying one of his nervous ticks. Spencer was touching the pad of his thumb on the tips of his other fingers in rapid succession. Despite his obvious discomfort, he nodded his head in agreeance.

           “I’ll try.”

           Rossi took the lull in conversation as an opportunity to hold up the plastic bag in his hand. I narrowed my eyes at it inquisitively. There were five vials of a murky, dark brown liquid in the bag.

           “There were five of these in your bag at the motel. Do you recognize them?”

           Spencer’s eyes zeroed in on the bag and its contents, his brows furrowing. It wasn’t long until a look of partial recognition flashed across his face. It was so faint that if he hadn’t been in a room of profilers, it would’ve gone unnoticed.

           “What is it?” I asked from my place at his side. He’d been somewhat clingy since the incident that had transpired while everyone was at the motel, gravitating towards me as soon as we all had been granted entrance to the holding cell. I knew that he needed familiarity right now; he was in a very vulnerable state and he needed something that made him feel safe and secure.

           Butterflies erupted in my stomach when I had realized what he was doing, that I was that thing that made him feel safe and secure.

Spencer opened his mouth once before closing it, as if trying to put his thoughts into words was difficult. He did this a few more times before settling on,

“Whatever’s in those vials, I was giving it to my mom,” he said, his eyes darting around the room as he spoke. “That’s the only thing I’m sure of.”

           “I’ll have them run it through the lab,” Rossi said, before leaving and heading towards the direction in which Castenada had retreated.

           Emily and Luke were quick to hop into a rushed conversation, leaving only Spencer and I still in the cell. I looked up at him, at the way his forehead creased as he bit his lip in quiet contemplation.

           “Are you sure you’re ready for a cognitive? I know the effects may be wearing off, but you’re gonna be cloudy for a while. If you don’t want to do it now, all you have to do is say the word,” I murmured, keeping my voice low so that only he could hear it. “I can tell that you’re a bit overwhelmed, and that’s okay.”

           Spencer’s response came in the form of a shrug of his shoulders.

           “I want to try, because I know it’s important. I just don’t know that it will be of much help,” he replied, casting his eyes down to me.

           “Yes, it is important, but don’t put too much pressure on yourself. We’ll figure this out even if you can’t remember it all right now.”

           Spencer nodded once before running his tongue across his chapped bottom lip.

           “I don’t remember what happened, but I know I didn’t kill her,” he whispered, barely audible. Even though his words were quiet, I could hear the desperation in them; almost as if he was begging me to believe them, begging himself to believe them.

           I made the irrational decision then to throw professionalism aside and wrap both of my arms around his torso, my grip tight and assured. Spencer’s aversion to touch was common knowledge amongst us all, but for some reason that never seemed to apply to me, and I could see in his eyes that the way we were all treating him like he was fragile was wounding him more than he would ever admit. I hoped to remedy that with my embrace, and the speed in which he reciprocated was so fast that I was certain he was thankful. He wrapped his injured hand around my waist, the other finding purchase in my hair. I felt his chest move as he let out a shuddering breath.

           “I know you didn’t, Spence. Everyone on the team knows you didn’t,” I reassured him, my words muffled as my face was pressed against his chest. “And we’re not going to stop until everyone else knows it, too.”

           I was well aware that our embrace had garnered the attention of our teammates, but Spencer’s hold on me hadn’t faltered in the slightest, so I didn’t let mine either. Instead, I gripped the fabric of his flannel shirt tighter in my hands.

--

           When Emily exited the room in which they had conducted the cognitive interview, the look on her face was grim. I visibly cringed at the sight as I felt the sliver of hope that I had left die a miserable death.

           We are so beyond fucked.

           “How’s he doing?” Rossi asked, obviously taking note of the distress on Emily’s face.

           “He’s made some breakthroughs, but I’m not sure how helpful they’ll be,” she sighed, running a hand through her jet-black hair. When none of us spoke, Emily’s eyes flitted around, finally noticing that our expressions were a direct reflection of her own. “What is it?”

           “They just charged Reid with the murder of Nadi Ramos.”

           Hearing it said aloud wasn’t any easier the second time.

--

           While the rest of us had taken it upon ourselves to lean against the cement walls, Luke had begun pacing down the short hallway. After about ten minutes of unbearable silence, he decided he’d had enough.

           “We can’t get him out of here, can we?” he finally spoke, his voice a mix of anger and desperation.

           “I don’t know how.”

           “He didn’t kill her,” I reiterated, speaking more to myself than the three of them.

           “If all I had to go on was the evidence, I would swear he did,” Rossi sighed. I knew he was right; Spencer’s personal belongings were all over the hotel room, which was about as incriminating as you could get. “But knowing Reid, hearing the cognitive…”

           “Yes, he said there was another person in that motel room, but,” Emily pressed play on the audio recording, and her voice proceeded to flow through the speakers.

           “Who has the knife? Who is stabbing Rosa?”

           “I don’t know. It’s in my hand.”

           Emily pressed the power button and the screen went black.

           “Right now, this is just more evidence against him.”

           “So, what do we do now? Do we just sit and twiddle our thumbs until the consulate agrees to the extradition?” I asked. “There’s got to be more we can do. We can’t let them take him to jail, he won’t survive in there.”

           “I called in some help from IRT. Clara Seger and Matt Simmons will be arriving at any moment,” Emily said, checking her phone after hearing it ping. “In fact, that would be them. They’re here.”

           I breathed a sigh of relief as we all fell into step beside Emily. Having people from other areas of expertise that are willing to help is a good thing. Maybe they’ll be able to see something that we didn’t.

--

           “We come bearing good news,” I announced, leading the group as we all entered the holding cell. Spencer was quick to turn around and the corners of his lips pulled upwards as he set his sights on all of us. “Back up is here.”

           “Hey Spencer,” Matt greeted, offering up a small smile before crossing his arms across his chest.

           “Hey,” Spencer replied, moving to stand up from his spot on the bench. He was still a little wobbly on his feet, but he was doing much better than he was when we had arrived. “Thank you for coming.”

           “Yeah, of course. Jack and me are finishing up a case in Costa Rica, so we hopped on a commercial plane to get here,” Clara explained.

           “We’re trying to stop you transfer to El Diablo.”

           Spencer’s eyes darted over to me and he swallowed hard before speaking.

           “Do you think it’s possible?” Hearing the hope in his voice tugged at my heart strings. The way that he could manage to stay optimistic at time like this was a true testament to his character.

           “Yes,” Clara began. “Lab reports on the vials came back and some of what was in there hasn’t been approved by the FDA, but there aren’t any illegal substances.”

           “That’s great news,” I sighed, letting out the breath that I didn’t know I had been holding.

           “Is there anything else you remember about your time here?”

           “I remember what happened to the vials at home. My mom threw most of them out.”

           “So, that’s why you were here. To get more,” Clara said in an attempt to clarify.

           “It must be,” Spencer murmured, shuffling anxiously from one foot to the other.

           “Well, you’re off the hook for that. There’s no contraband involved,” Matt announced. Okay, this is good. One less thing to worry about.

           “Yeah, but we’re still looking at the planted drug and the murder charges, which could keep you here for a long time.”

           “Can we do anything to delay the transfer?” I wondered aloud. Clara took into account what I said and sighed, before turning towards Spencer once again.

           “You said that you met Nadi, who calls herself Rosa, in Houston. Why didn’t she just give you the vials in the U.S.?”

           “I don’t know,” Spencer said, running his uninjured hand through his hair. “I don’t know, but she helped us and I trusted her. I was right to. I still believe that.”

           “Well, she convinced you to cross the border multiple times. She had you risk your life,” Matt argued.

           “Because she must have something to lose, too,” I mumbled, eliciting a series of fervent nods from Clara. “Family, maybe?”

           “We need to know more about her,” Clara said.

           And then, something glorious happened. It was like a switch had flipped inside of Spencer’s head, and all of the sudden the lights were back on. I could tell that he had been struck with an idea, and it was a wonderous sight to behold.

           “What was in those vials?” Spencer asked, only solidifying my observation.

           Matt produced a paper with the lab results and began reading off the results.

           “There are so nootropic compounds like Ampalex, uh, but also some more natural stuff; coral calcium, jimson weed, coconut oil, a variety of vitamins. B12, D3-”

           “Where are we right now?” Spencer interjected.

           “Matamoros, Northern Mexico.”

           “Jimson weed, otherwise known as the Devil’s Snare, originated in Mexico but its natural growing region is further north or south of the border,” Spencer said, his words flowing out rapidly. I felt my heart soar and I didn’t even try to suppress the smile that fought its way to my face.

           “Boy Genius is back,” I announced, and for just a moment, the mood in the room lightened for the first time all day.

           “So, if it isn’t from here, then were did she get it?” Clara asked.

           “Let me get Garcia on,” Emily murmured, dialing the number and tapping her foot as it rang. On the third ring, Penelope’s bright and cheerful voice filled the room, a sunbeam shining through on a cloudy day.

           “Please tell me you’re calling to tell me some good news.”

           “Garcia, I have some questions for you.”

           “Hey, Penelope,” Matt greeted, earning a pleasantly surprised gasp from the woman on the other end.

           “Oh my God, it’s the dulcet tones of Matt Simmons,” Penelope gushed. “Are you there to save the day?”

           “I’m trying. Clara’s here, too.” A relieved sigh floated through the speakers.

           “Knowing we have you guys as backup is providing me some much-needed hope, and I work better this way.”

           “Hey, lady,” Clara greeted. “We’re trying to catch up on a few things. Where is Nadi Ramos from?” Before Clara even managed to finish her sentence, the sound of Garcia’s acrylic nails tapping away at her keyboard could be heard.

           “Mm she lives with her family just north of Matamoros.”

           “That must be where she got the jimson weed,” Emily pointed out.

           “What’s weird in she crosses the border, like, a lot.”

           “Why?”

           “Well, she works in Houston at that clinic, but she also helps at a low-income healthcare center. I can’t find a visa on her, which is double weird. And, in finishing the weird trifecta, there’s a social security number on her W2 form.”

           “Social security? She’s an American citizen?” I asked. Matt confirmed my suspicions with a nod of his head.

           “Yeah, she had dual citizenship. She was born in Houston, and her family had to move back to Mexico. She lives with them and she works in the U.S.”

           “This changes everything. We need to talk to the consulate,” Emily stated.

           Just as things were beginning to look up, Chief Castenada decided to grace us with his presence once more; and this time, he had an entourage.

           “It’s time for his transfer,” Castenada announced, looking pointedly in my direction.

           “We’ve had a break in the case,” Emily argued, shaking her head at him. “The victim was also American, and that calls for extradition.”

           Castenada merely shrugged before walking past us all.

           “I’ve got orders, sorry,” he muttered, making Gavin’s apology from earlier in the day sound heartfelt in comparison. Castenada wasted no time in beginning to place handcuffs on Spencer, locking them in place with a definitive click. Spencer and I shared a look of panic before both of us looked towards Emily in a silent plea.

           One of the men roughly grabbed Spencer by the arm and led him from the room. I watched in horror as they led him away, my heart threatening to beat out of my chest. I barely registered the fact that Emily was now on the phone. I just stood there, staring blankly at the entrance to the cell.

           “With the victim having dual citizenship, we now have concurrent jurisdiction. It was my understanding that the official order to extradite SSA Spencer Reid would be evaluated,” Emily damn near snarled into the phone. She paused for a moment, listening to the voice on the other line, before a look of relief washed over her face. “I understand, thank you.” She promptly hung up the phone before turning to face Luke. “They’re taking it to their brass. Go get him.”

           Luke took off in a rush, not needing to be told twice.

           I only wished I could be there to see the look on Castenada’s face.

--

           “We’re working on all channels here. Matt Cruz is on with the consulate right now. We could get an immediate extradition, but it’s just the beginning,” Emily explained, her voice stern.

           Spencer regarded her with a weary expression. The drug induced haze had finally lifted, leaving him painfully aware of how dire the situation was.

           “I really screwed up and I’m so sorry,” he choked out, resulting in a crack forming in Emily’s hard exterior. I couldn’t blame her; it wasn’t easy to stay mad at Spencer Reid. Spencer’s eyes were like kryptonite to most; big and brown and full of emotion. I’m sure if you searched ‘puppy dog eyes’ in the dictionary, a picture of Spencer Reid would be found in example.

           “It was for the right reason.”

           “I can’t remember what happened, but I know I didn’t kill anyone.” It was obvious in the way that he kept repeating the words that he was desperate for us to believe him. No amount of calm reassurance from us could quell the voice in his head that was surely telling him that we thought him guilty.

           “We do, too.”

           Clara was first to enter the cell, immediately followed by Matt.

           “Hey, they approved the extradition,” Clara announced, smiling brightly at the three of us.

           “Effective immediately,” Matt added on.

           We all exchanged relieved smiles before Matt and Clara led Spencer from the cell. Emily and I were quick to follow, right on Matt’s heels when we were stopped by Castenada.

           “I must point out that I feel like justice isn’t exactly being served with this move.”

           I pursed my lips together. In the short time we had been in Mexico, my feelings towards the man had grown from distaste to almost a full-blown hatred. That being said, I couldn’t help but understand where he was coming from. If Spencer hadn’t been a federal agent, he wouldn’t be granted the privilege of the extradition. Nor would he be allowed to fly home with us. I hated to admit it, but Castenada made a valid point.

           “I understand, but I can assure you that this has gone to the highest ranks and there will be a full investigation,” Emily reassured him.

           “Thank you for working with us,” I offered in an attempt to smooth over the rift I had created earlier. Now that my judgement wasn’t so clouded by my need to defend Spencer, I could see the error of my ways. I hadn’t been the most professional.

           Castenada nodded once in my direction before turning his attention back to Emily.

           “For our reports, I would like to have the recording of that cognitive interview.”

           I felt my blood run cold. That interview would just add to the list of things that could be used against Spencer in court. He had openly admitted to holding the murder weapon in his own hands, an admission that would surely earn him twenty to life.

           We cannot give him that recording.

           Emily seemed to be on the same page as I was.

           “I didn’t record it.”

           Castenada’s face contorted into an ugly frown.

           “But that was our agreement,” he squawked angrily.

           “I determined he was still under the influence. Anything he said wouldn’t have clarified matters.”

           Castenada’s gaze never faltered, eyeing Emily in an attempt to discern if she was giving him the run around. Luckily, Castenada was unable to find a hint of dishonesty on Emily’s face, and he nodded in resignation.

           Years of profiling will teach you how to control your micro expressions.

           “You’re committed agents. And I’ve worked with the IRT before. I trust you know what you’re doing.”

           “We do. I promise,” I stated, my voice giving off more confidence than I felt. Yes, I thought to myself, there’s no doubt that we’re good at what we do.

           But so is Scratch.

--

           All was quiet on the jet, the steady thrum of the engine being the only sound that could be heard. Rossi had been the only one able to fall asleep, something that I would be sure to tease him about later. Next to Rossi sat Emily, who had busied herself with flipping through Spencer’s arresting report. Clara and Matt sat across from them, engulfed in their own hushed conversation.

           Spencer had opted to sit on the couch, but he didn’t allow himself to sprawl out like he normally would have done. He was visibly exhausted, wiping at his eyes frequently in an attempt to keep the fatigue at bay. It was almost like he was punishing himself; like he didn’t feel he deserved the solace that sleep would bring.

           “You should go talk to him. See if you can’t get him to lay down,” Luke whispered encouragingly from his seat beside mine.

           “I have no idea what to say to him,” I confessed. I tore my gaze away from Spencer and turned my attention to Luke. “There’s nothing I can say that will make this any better.”

           “You’re not wrong about that, but maybe just letting him know you’re here for him will help. Just go and sit with him, I’m sure he could use a friend right now.”

           Luke was right. I let out a dramatic sigh before shooting Luke a pointed look.

           “Since when did you get so insightful?”

           A grin stretched its way across his face.

           “Always have been, sweetness. It’s part of my charm. I’m more than just a pretty face, you know.”

           “And on that note, I’ll be going,” I announced, standing up from my seat and walking the short distance to the couch. Luke’s chuckles sounded off behind me and I couldn’t help but smile; note to self, make more of an effort to get to know Luke Alvez.

I approached slowly, hoping not to startle him as he seemed to be lost in his own world. He didn’t notice me until I came to a stop in front of the couch. Spencer’s head shot up suddenly, the worry on his face melting away to form a small smile.

“Hi,” I greeted, returning his smile tenfold. “You looked like you could use some company. Do you mind if I sit?”

Spencer gave me a soft smile and scooted over, patting at the space next to him. I lowered myself onto the couch, angling my body so it was facing him.

“You’re tired,” I observed, leaning back into the soft cushions. Spencer shrugged in reply, opening his mouth to argue, only for a yawn to slip out. I let out a light laugh. “Don’t even try to argue. There’s no telling how long you’ve been up. Why don’t you try and get some sleep?”

Spencer’s eyes reluctantly met mine and I felt almost paralyzed when I saw the sheer vulnerability in them.

“Researchers from the University of Cardiff conducted a two-part study looking at whether people’s daily frustration or fulfilment of their psychological needs, such as feeling autonomous or competent, affects their dreams. The results from the first study showed that people who were frustrated with their daily situation tended to have recurring dreams in which they were falling, failing or being attacked,” he rasped out, his words jumbling together as they fell from his mouth in rapid succession. “The lead author on the study concluded that negative dream emotions may directly result from distressing dream events, and might represent the psyche’s attempt to process and make sense of particularly psychologically challenging waking experiences.”

“And you’re worried your dreams will reflect what happened today.”

Spencer bit the inside of his cheek before nodding in affirmation.

“I can’t promise you that you won’t dream about those things,” I began, my voice coming out soft. “But I can tell you that sleep deprivation can cause lots of very unfortunate symptoms like impaired memory, reduced physical strength, and inability to concentrate. Do you know how I know those things?”

A light flush dusted over the tops of his cheeks.

“Probably because I’ve made it a habit to bore you with my information dumps.”

I shook my head adamantly, reaching a hand up and ruffling up his hair. He batted my hand away, ducking his head to try and hide the smile tugging at his lips.

“Never a bore, Spence. But yes, I know those things because of you and that remarkable brain of yours. And we’re going to need that remarkable brain in tip top shape if we want to get you out of this mess, understood?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” he relented.

I patted a hand on my lap, an invitation for him to use me as a pillow. He seemed hesitant, eyes flitting from my face before going back down to my lap.

“Don’t act shy around me, Pretty Boy. I know better than anyone that you’re a secret cuddle bug,” I teased, earning a snort from the man next to me.

“Am not,” he harrumphed, before deciding to take me up on my offer. He laid his head down on my lap before stretching his legs out across the expanse of the couch. My heart lurched pitifully when he nuzzled his head into my leg before letting out a loud sigh.

“Thank you,” Spencer whispered, voice thick with emotion. His eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks, casting tiny shadows on his face. I smiled at the sight and began carding my hands through his hair.

“No need to thank me,” I murmured, raking my nails against his scalp and eliciting a pleased hum from him. “Don’t you worry about a thing, okay? We’re going to get you out of this. I know we will. And don’t worry about your mom, either; I’m going to check on your mom every day, I promise.”

Spencer’s breathing stuttered at the mention of Diana, and I worried I had crossed a line. He stayed silent for a moment, before moving his hand up and squeezing my knee.

“You’re entirely too good to me.”

“Yeah, well, you’d do the same for me. That’s what friends are for.”

No more words were exchanged, and within five minutes Spencer’s breathing evened out and he was asleep.

--

Several hours later, we were all filing out of the elevator and into the bullpen. I shivered slightly as the cool air hit my bare arms, but I tried not to show my discomfort. I’d shrugged off my sweater and offered it to Spencer the moment we stepped off the jet, draping it across his cuffed hands in an attempt to conceal them. Spencer had thanked me with a pitiful smile and I returned the sentiment, blinking several times to try and stifle the tears pooling in my eyes.

JJ was the first to greet him, with Stephen, Tara and Penelope following closely behind. I watched on for a moment before my attention was pulled elsewhere. Stephen’s phone had rung, prompting him to slip away from the group and retreat further down the hall. I furrowed my brow at this, taking advantage of my colleagues’ distraction as I wandered towards Stephen. I strained to hear his whispered words, but just as soon as I neared, he ended the call.

“What was that about?” I asked quietly. The look on his face told me that the news couldn’t be good, and I didn’t want to ruin the reunion going on just down the hall. They all deserved a few moments of relief.

Stephen let out a long sigh and ran his hand through his hair before speaking.

“I, uh, just got a call. Reid isn’t eligible for the bureau’s legal assistance.”

Stephen’s words sent a jolt of white-hot dread through me. “How is that even possible?”            “Spencer went without being briefed, and he wasn’t in Mexico on government business. They refuse to represent him.”

I let my wary eyes drift down the hall, towards the group of wonderful misfits that I had grown to think of as family;

Penelope, whose optimism never wavered, even in the face of the absolute worst that the world had to offer.

JJ, a devoted mother with a heart of gold and a fierceness that inspired me every single day.

Tara, one of the most intelligent and caring women I had ever had the privilege to know.

Rossi, a father figure to all with enough wisdom to create a legacy that would inspire generations of profilers to be.

Emily, a fearless leader whom I trusted with my life and would follow into battle without question.

Luke, a newcomer who took special care to comfort me when I was at my worst.

Spencer, a man too remarkable to even try to describe with words. A man that anyone of us would defend until our very last breath.

That undeniable truth gave birth to the tiny sliver of hope growing inside of me. Spencer Reid was innocent, and we are all hellbent on proving it.

I nodded once in affirmation, more to myself than to Stephen, before allowing myself to meet his gaze.

“We’re on our own.”

And if anyone could pull this off, it was this team. My team.

There is a point when facing the unknown stops being a longed-for adventure and becomes a terrifying reality.

           -Storm Constantine

[loyally-unfaithful]

—; but “sentimental boy” is my nom de plume

word count: 1916

pairing: connor/gn!reader

genre: slight fluff; hurt no comfort

summary: it has been a year after the android revolution. humans and android alike settled down, an olive branch was offered as a sign of reconciliation. with newfound peace came along newfound love, and many open roads to choose from. this was no different for the rk800—connor. surprisingly or unsurprisingly, he decided to continue working at the dpd, this time as a bonafide detective. but he has also accepted the thrilling uncertainty of life that deviancy has brought; the same strings that brought his lover in his life.the same ones he hated and cursed, the same fates who ripped it all away.

a/n: everytime i convince myself i came out of my dbh hyperfixation i just look at connor and i become lovesick again.

gosh i know i should be finishing my other fic or work on the prologue script for my vn, but,,,,,,, i just had a sudden hankering for connor angst,,,,

written during a sleep deprivation induced moment of epiphany,,,,, (purple prose cuz im extra af uwu)

I’ve never written angst before so i’d love to hear your thoughts on it

maybe if you asked him one year ago whether he’d consider returning someone’s feelings, romantic feelings, he’d reply to you with a placid smile and a polite « i’m sorry, i wasn’t programmed to reciprocate romantic interest. ». he remembered that he’d sneer at them internally. now thinking about it, long before he questioned his obedience towards her, he already showed signs of deviancy.

you did what you were designed to do.

memories from his past would still torment him erratically, doubts would resurface on particularly dark days. but you were the light that cut through that haze. this wasn’t a “fake deviancy”. it couldn’t have been. not when he is holding your body so close to his, warmth radiating off of each other, two heartbeats—similar, but different—thrumming together. all the softly whispered and adoringly announced « i love you »’s; all the quick and coveted pecks and all the feverish and passionate kisses. no, he was alive, he was sure of it—alive and absolutely enamoured by you. all semblance of doubt ebbed away when you entered his life.

whenever he’s around you, he feels more alive: you make him feel everything, all the little precious things. tenderness and adoration when he shares tranquil mornings with you. he feels more alive when he’s with you, all the little habits and routines too endearing: the sweet post-it notes scattered over your shared flat; scribbled upon it are encouraging words or sweet nothings. conflicting work schedules meant that moments spent together were scarce, but that made them even more valuable and coveted. captivation, was another emotion that he felt around you. your mannerism, your dreams and interests, your physical attributes and quality of voice. logically speaking, you were just another human, insignificant in the grand scheme of things. you’d live and then one day, you’d die. as if you never really existed. but he wasn’t being logical. how could he be? when you were right there in front of him? you made him irrational, and he found that new aspect in life thrilling. confusing at first, but exciting. he was eternally grateful that you let him experience all these beautiful emotions with you. he was grateful that you allowed him in your short journey that you called life.

he was happy, absolutely content, with his shared life with you. you were both in perfect places in your respective lives: you both had a stable job, loving family backing you up, and a fulfilling love life. what seemed to be a mismatched couple at first turned to be 2 pieces of the same puzzle finally finding their place. life for the both of you couldn’t be better.

but along with the many exquisite moment that your romantic endeavours brought you, the android didn’t only taste the sweet delicacies of life; no matter how idyllic a moment may be, there were times when he had to taste the astringent and sour desserts life offered.

anger. that was an emotion that he felt. but that’s not accurate, no… it was frustration and shock and betrayal, all the unsavoury feelings in the world. perhaps it was due to his inexperience, maybe his lack of exposure to these negative sentiments, that caused him to snap the way he did. to hurt you the way he did. but it happened and there was no turning back the clock.

no matter how much he begged and cried for it.

he was proud that you got the job offer in canada, he really was. and he, like any other caring boyfriend would, offered to accompany you there, an offer which you gladly accepted. that was the plan. but plans were difficult to follow. crime waits for no man, working for the law meant that connor must always be available for duty. no excuses, he was an android. but connor wasn’t just a simple android detective, no, he had a much more important role: he was the link, the messenger, between jericho and the police force. he was the crucial communication between the two forces. so when jericho contacted him about threats of anti-android attacks, he had to make an appearance at their base. the meeting coincided with the day you were meant to travel to canada. it was a simple trip really. it only took a few hours by train, stay in canada for 2 days (it was the weekend), and then return back to detroit, probably arriving in the late afternoons to their home.

but you were looking forwards to traveling with your wonderful partner after « [we] spent so much time apart ». the day he told you the urgent change of plans, connor was tired, overwhelmed. you were frustrated and expectant. a fight was bound to have erupted. accusatory statements, along the lines of: « you don’t actually care about me! it’s all about work and work and work! » and « i can’t believe how selfish you’re being right now! » in between shouting and yelling and frustration and anger and contempt–

you both went to bed exhausted but spiteful, still not forgiving each other. in hindsight, he felt so utterly pathetic, so unbelievably childish, for being that cruel, and uncaring. he didn’t want to be like him again. so many glares and insults were thrown at each other, tears threatened to spill, LED flashed and shone a true red, doors were slammed. he felt awful, plain and simple. you both lied in the same bed, under the same cover. so close yet so excruciatingly far apart. back facing the other’s, no one said a word.

you woke up before him. bitter and unhappy. no morning kisses, no whispered « i love you » to wake your other half. you wordlessly got yourself ready, grabbed your bag and quietly snuck out. no post it notes were left. no sweet promises or encouraging words. you could do this work trip without him. you were independent. you didn’t need a tin can to chaperone you everywhere. so you left. plain and simple. gone. since you woke up and left earlier than planned, you boarded an earlier train. how lovely and convenient. the carriages were mostly filled with androids. perhaps they were trying to immigrate to canada like the others. who knows. you paid no mind and absentmindedly scrolled through your phone, obsessively checking your messages to see if connor realised. to see if he apologised. because frankly, at that point you were tired of being mad and just wanted to spend the day in his arms. but prideful and petty as you were, you weren’t willing to apologise and admit your mistakes first.

connor roused from stasis a few moments afterward, less bitter and more regretful. he wished to right his wrongs but the normally warm presence beside him was not there. his system was slowly booting back up when his audio sensor picked up an incessant ringing from the living room. he jolted up and rushed out to pick up the ringing phone call and waited for the other side to speak up.

the room was so utterly quiet, a silence so suffocating engulfed the room, that you could hear a pin drop. the voice on the other side asked whether this was indeed your house and that he was indeed connor anderson. he swallowed dryly and answered with a soft, « yes ». running a quick check in his database, he matches the caller’s voice with a certain nathaniel edwards. first responder. he allowed his HUD to display the news. if androids could get pale, have all their blood drain from their faces, his would have certainly done so. he stood, rigid and motionless, consumed by shock and horror.

the news and the first responder’s words blended into one as he gripped the phone tighter: « this morning, at 7:48 am the train from detroit to toronto was caught in a devastating turn of events: the train soon caught in fire and exploded as it made its way over the border. it has been confirmed that there has been 0 survivors. it is unclear whether this was an unfortunate accident or the result of anti-android terrorism. »

the other person’s voice poured through the speaker but he wasn’t listening. he stared blankly in front of him. no way, he thought, it couldn’t have been… the only sign that the android was registering the other man’s input was the now constant red LED.

« sir? sir. i’m sorry to bring this— – no, this isn’t right… you must have the wrong number, he interrupted. there were probably others with your name… maybe they were mistaken... – sir that’s not possible, w— – you must have gotten the wrong house… not… it-it couldn’t have been…» but he knew how improbable it was that they got the wrong number. he was built to be logical, to believe statistics. the statistics told him you were dead. long gone. he hoped and prayed that you stayed back, didn’t get on the earlier train. the statistics told him you did.

he choked out a response, quiet and defeated. you were gone. he’d never get to see you again. « i… i’m sorry… i-i don’t understand… – we tried our best to find them sir, but… the fire was too severe… if we gain any new developm— – you didn’t save them. »

still in a daze, he must have hung up on the poor man and unceremoniously dropped the phone. its clatter the only sound in this deafening silence. the reality of it all comes crashing through and he collapsed, ugly sobs escaping him as the denial faded away to make way for the pure and unfiltered grief. he felt lost. for the first time in a long while since amanda he felt so utterly and completely lost. no more shining beacon during his dark and stormy nights. no more valued affection and coveted kisses. no more notes and no more smile to come home to.

he laughed bitterly, devoid of any humour. it was funny, just how cruel the fates were: made human life so fleeting. lachesisonly gave them such a short eternity. and when he thought you both found your missing halves, bound to another by an invisible string, atropos cuts it. a small snippet that is so easily ripped away from you. he belonged with you, he felt at peace with you. he was able to be what he struggled to be for the majority of his miserable and artificial existence. with you, he was able to be happy.

but now he’ll have to get used to not coming home to a warm embrace. he’ll have to get used to going into stasis alone, in the cold bed. he’ll have to get used to his aching heart being greeted by an empty house. every cold and lonely  nights. it’s ridiculous how human he felt because of you. and he was both thankful and spiteful for it.

sadness and bitter regret ripped through him when he remembered that he didn’t  share goodbyes before he left. he remembered how he couldn’t have apologised to you and tenderly held you. he regretted not being able to tell you how much he loved you and how much you meant to him for the last time. ra9 only knows the things he’d do and the things he’d sacrifice, just to have you in his arms again.

instead he was faced with the bitter reminder that the last thing he’s ever said to you, your last memory of him, was a contemptuous and scornful « i wished i never met you ».

like my work? consider buying me a coffee // checking out my masterlist | links can be found on my desc

[ambidextrousarcher]

Sarcastic StarBharat Reviews: Episode 16- In which we visit Kuntibhoj.

The episode begins with a shot of the map, it focuses on Hastina. Then we cut to a scene of Vidhur saying that Jarasandh has married his daughter off to Kans and surrounded Hastina. (Is that actually a canon fact? I doubt it, but I shall withhold judgement.) He continues that Panchal alone is the Kingdom between Magadh and Hastina. Honey Boy says that the Southern Kingdoms are their friends. Paragon of Perfection intercedes. He says that Vidharbh is friendly, but to Magadh and not them. Satyavati says that if Honey Boy leaves on a Vijay Yatra (IDK what that is, but I guess it’s Digvijay?) then he’ll have enmity with many Kings. (Huh? Isn’t Digvijay where he subdues Kings? At least that’s what I think it is in canon.) But if he doesn’t, the Jarasandh will think he is powerless and attack them. Mr Angry Drama Queen and Annoying Poseur enter. Drama Queen does his usual angry perfunctory pranipaat, then states that it seems a matter of great importance is being discussed because the King and his whole council are present. Honey Boy does a pranipaat to his elder brother. He continues that there is a grave problem and asks for Drama Queen’s help. Drama Queen, as usual, reacts angrily. He asks if he should be of service to the King and if that’s the case, why their grandmother had to call him when he’d have obeyed the King’s orders anyway. He sarcastically stresses the ‘Maharaj’ part of the sentence. Honey Boy says that he can only request things of his elder brother, not order him around. Drama Queen states that if a King requests, it is equivalent to an order. He continues, asking if he is destined for death or imprisonment. Everyone looks shocked. Satyavati exclaims “Putr! What are you saying? Why would you be punished?” “For the crime of being an elder brother, Rajmata. Being a King’s elder brother, is that less than any offence?” “Elder brother, listen to me. I and Vidur think that you should be Hastina’s prime advisor. Pitamah and the Rajmata are also okay with it. It will be a position above the Mahamantri.” “But such a post doesn’t exist! Will you create one for me? What is the purpose of that? What use is this blind man to anyone?” I honestly don’t want to shame disability, but most disabled people try despite their problems. This guy is hardly the only blind person in the world, why does he drag his blindness into everything? “The darkness of his eyes casts a shadow on his brain too, isn’t that so, Mahamantri?” “Elder brother…” I give full points for being tenacious in the face of extreme ott drama to Honey Boy, if not much else. “Leave it be, Pandu! Leave it be. When I was a child, I used to cry as I wanted to see the moon. Mata Ambika used to give me a sphere of gur (jaggery) and convince me it is better than the moon. I am no child, hence there is no need to give me false platitudes.” He walks out. Phew. I hope that’s drama quota done for the day. Obviously, I am not so lucky, for Drama Queen turns. “I have a question. A coronation is a yagna, something that cannot be done without a wife,” (You mean Shantanu was married to Ganga at that time? No, I don’t think that’s possible so, hi! Canon fail #25) Vidur tries to intercede but is shot down. Drama Queen talks about tradition, his Dharma. Wait, this guy actually has a Dharma? He talks about eligibility, makes a jibe at Vidur and turns to leave. “I will prove my eligibility, elder brother,” Ah, Honey Boy, honestly I don’t know how you haven’t lost your temper yet. “You can test my eligibility if you wish,” “Time alone can test us, Pandu. I am not time, merely a time-worn man. Wed before the yagna of rajya-sthapna, Pandu, to a maiden who’s sons will protect Hastina, such as my sons with the Princess Gandhari.” Ugh. Those kids just lead to ruin, dude. Pandu’s sons, at least the younger four, do way better. “Isn’t a good wife an eligibility for the King?” he hisses, stalking out. Mr. Annoying Poseur does a pranipaat. Honey Boy glares at him. Scene changes to the precap scene. Satyavati worries Mr. Annoying Poseur might make Drama Queen revolt. Mr. Paragon of Perfection spouts philosophy. They come to the conclusion that Honey Boy needs to marry ASAP. Seriously? Okay. Cue precap scene. Once Satyavati is done angsting about the lack of suitable ladies, the scene cuts to hunters with bows in hand galloping through greenery. They’re following a deer that’s trying to protect its kid. They shoot. A lady shoots an arrow that shatters all of theirs. Ah, I can see the archery genes, lady. It’s obviously Kunti. The BG music of Suryadev Sogaye… plays. I actually like that song, tho I hate the git it’s meant for. “Princess, why have you broken our arrows?” asks a hunter. “Have we committed a mistake?” “Not a mistake, an offence,” says Kunti. “The deer has a baby, have not seen? Taking a mother away from her baby is the biggest sin you a do. A baby without its mother will have nothing but fear.” You know, I was actually liking the beginning of this scene. I don’t like it anymore. Nope. It’s obviously heavy foreshadowing for Kunti being Karn’s mother rather than Arjun’s. Ugh. I don’t want this! It’s blatantly whitewashing that git and he hasn’t even entered yet. It’s clear that he’s gonna be glitterwashed even more than the paragon of perfection. Anyway. A lady enters on a horse. “The King has called you to the palace.” “For what?” asks Kunti. “The date for your Swayamvar has been decided.” Oh. “Swayamvar?” There’s a shot of Kunti galloping back and then the camera focuses on something that looks suspiciously like the set of the Kashi Swayamvar. Preparations are clearly going on. Kunti enters and does a pranipaat to her father. “Ah, daughter, you are here,” says Kuntibhoj. “Have you announced my swayamvar father?” “I do it with much pride, it will be done with the pomp and splendor of a festival,” “But…” “No. An auspicious event should not be started with words of uncertainty,” Gosh, is there one character in this cast that is not an ott philophist? Seriously?? “You only told me that an auspicious event should not be attended with fear in our hearts.” “Are you afraid of the Swayamvar? You have pleased Rishi Durvasa himself, what do you need to fear?” She turns away. “Something…something is there, father,” she says. “What is it? Only an offence can cause such worry and I have complete belief that my daughter is innocent of any offence that can injure my reputation.” Kunti looks at him. “What is the reason for your worry?” “Father, I..” she starts. Kunti’s friend has terror in her eyes. “If I leave, who will take care of you?” Her friend heaves a sigh of relief. “Brother is only a child.” Says Kunti. “My child,” Kuntibhoj hugs her, kissing her on the forehead. “You have taken too much care of me. Worry about your husband now. Dream of happiness and joy. I believe that the best man will be your husband. Hence, I have sent invitations to the best Kings of Aryavrata.” Scene switches to Hastina. Vidur is opening a letter, speaking of Kuntibhoj’s intention to hold a swayamvar for his daughter, Kunti. Satyavati is against attending. “She is not his daughter, she is the biological daughter of Shurasen, a Yadav. How can a girl who’s not a Princess become a Rajmata?” Excuse you? Have you looked at yourself, lady? When were you a Princess? Hypocrisy, seriously. Bhishm says that she has the twin qualities of Kuntibhoj and the Yadavas. Vidur says that they will be allied to two countries at once. Satyavati snaps that she’s not on the lookout for allies, she’s on the lookout for an eligible Princess. Oh, BTW, I’m pretty sure that no one was opposed to Kunti’s ‘eligibility’ like this, so here comes canon fail #26. Bhishm speaks about Kunti pleasing Durvasa, saying that she would have Dharma’s blessings on her. Scene switches to Kunti on a riverbank. “What were you going to tell the King, Princess?” asks Kunti’s friend. “That the daughter he thinks of as pure and divine has a secret in her heart.” “A secret that can shame you in front of the entirety of Aryavrata. What use is it confessing that? It was a mistake made in innocence. Remembering that is useless. Forget it.” “How can I forget?” asks Kunti, to the tune of the very beautiful BGM mentioned before. “I can still see that vision…” Scene flashes back to Kunti falling down with a basket of flowers in front of Durvasa, standing up, taking the basket again and walking over to him. She looks way older than 13-14, so here’s Canon fail#27, as Kunti was no older than that when Karn was born. “I am pleased with your service, Princess Kunti. Before releasing you of the same, I, Rishi Durvasa, hereby give you a mantr that will give you the power to have a son from any God you wish.” Oh, no. They’re gonna bring Karn into the picture! Ugh. Kunti bows as she is gifted the boon. Scene flashes to her calling the Sun God. Surya makes an entry, telling her that her son by him will have the same brightness. (Oh, really? I honestly can’t see any brightness in the canon Karn, but hey this is glitterwash Karn, so obviously it’s the brightness of glitterwash, no?” “Son?” asks Kunti. Episode ends. Precap: “Who will be the person that doesn’t think my mistake to be identity? Who will accept me?” asks Kunti. Scene flashes to Kings entering. Pandu stops a swordfight between two Kings. “Someone would be there, right?” asks Kunti. Camera focuses on Honey Boy.  

Getting through this episode honestly took me days, hope things speed up now...

Tagging my usual mutuals: @ratnas-musings @butchcaroldanvers @mayavanavihariniharini @hermioneaubreymiachase @mayavanavihariniharini @iamnotthat @allegoriesinmediasres @chaanv @medhasree @whydoyoucareaboutmyusername

[pointedly-foolish]

[ вut "sєntímєntαl вσч" ís mч nσm dє plumє ]

word count: 1916

pairing: connor/gn!reader

genre: slight fluff; hurt no comfort

summary: it has been a year after the android revolution. humans and android alike settled down, an olive branch was offered as a sign of reconciliation. with newfound peace came along newfound love, and many open roads to choose from. this was no different for the rk800—connor. surprisingly or unsurprisingly, he decided to continue working at the dpd, this time as a bonafide detective. but he has also accepted the thrilling uncertainty of life that deviancy has brought; the same strings that brought his lover in his life.the same ones he hated and cursed, the same fates who ripped it all away.

a/n: everytime i convince myself i came out of my dbh hyperfixation i just look at connor and i become lovesick again.

gosh i know i should be finishing my other fic or work on the prologue script for my vn, but,,,,,,, i just had a sudden hankering for connor angst,,,,

written during a sleep deprivation induced moment of epiphany,,,,, (purple prose cuz im extra af uwu)

I’ve never written angst before so i’d love to hear your thoughts on it

maybe if you asked him one year ago whether he’d consider returning someone’s feelings, romantic feelings, he’d reply to you with a placid smile and a polite « i’m sorry, i wasn’t programmed to reciprocate romantic interest. ». he remembered that he’d sneer at them internally. now thinking about it, long before he questioned his obedience towards her, he already showed signs of deviancy.

you did what you were designed to do.

memories from his past would still torment him erratically, doubts would resurface on particularly dark days. but you were the light that cut through that haze. this wasn’t a “fake deviancy”. it couldn’t have been. not when he is holding your body so close to his, warmth radiating off of each other, two heartbeats—similar, but different—thrumming together. all the softly whispered and adoringly announced « i love you »’s; all the quick and coveted pecks and all the feverish and passionate kisses. no, he was alive, he was sure of it—alive and absolutely enamoured by you. all semblance of doubt ebbed away when you entered his life.

whenever he’s around you, he feels more alive: you make him feel everything, all the little precious things. tenderness and adoration when he shares tranquil mornings with you. he feels more alive when he’s with you, all the little habits and routines too endearing: the sweet post-it notes scattered over your shared flat; scribbled upon it are encouraging words or sweet nothings. conflicting work schedules meant that moments spent together were scarce, but that made them even more valuable and coveted. captivation, was another emotion that he felt around you. your mannerism, your dreams and interests, your physical attributes and quality of voice. logically speaking, you were just another human, insignificant in the grand scheme of things. you’d live and then one day, you’d die. as if you never really existed. but he wasn’t being logical. how could he be? when you were right there in front of him? you made him irrational, and he found that new aspect in life thrilling. confusing at first, but exciting. he was eternally grateful that you let him experience all these beautiful emotions with you. he was grateful that you allowed him in your short journey that you called life.

he was happy, absolutely content, with his shared life with you. you were both in perfect places in your respective lives: you both had a stable job, loving family backing you up, and a fulfilling love life. what seemed to be a mismatched couple at first turned to be 2 pieces of the same puzzle finally finding their place. life for the both of you couldn’t be better.

but along with the many exquisite moment that your romantic endeavours brought you, the android didn’t only taste the sweet delicacies of life; no matter how idyllic a moment may be, there were times when he had to taste the astringent and sour desserts life offered.

anger. that was an emotion that he felt. but that’s not accurate, no… it was frustration and shock and betrayal, all the unsavoury feelings in the world. perhaps it was due to his inexperience, maybe his lack of exposure to these negative sentiments, that caused him to snap the way he did. to hurt you the way he did. but it happened and there was no turning back the clock.

no matter how much he begged and cried for it.

he was proud that you got the job offer in canada, he really was. and he, like any other caring boyfriend would, offered to accompany you there, an offer which you gladly accepted. that was the plan. but plans were difficult to follow. crime waits for no man, working for the law meant that connor must always be available for duty. no excuses, he was an android. but connor wasn’t just a simple android detective, no, he had a much more important role: he was the link, the messenger, between jericho and the police force. he was the crucial communication between the two forces. so when jericho contacted him about threats of anti-android attacks, he had to make an appearance at their base. the meeting coincided with the day you were meant to travel to canada. it was a simple trip really. it only took a few hours by train, stay in canada for 2 days (it was the weekend), and then return back to detroit, probably arriving in the late afternoons to their home.

but you were looking forwards to traveling with your wonderful partner after « [we] spent so much time apart ». the day he told you the urgent change of plans, connor was tired, overwhelmed. you were frustrated and expectant. a fight was bound to have erupted. accusatory statements, along the lines of: « you don’t actually care about me! it’s all about work and work and work! » and « i can’t believe how selfish you’re being right now! » in between shouting and yelling and frustration and anger and contempt–

you both went to bed exhausted but spiteful, still not forgiving each other. in hindsight, he felt so utterly pathetic, so unbelievably childish, for being that cruel, and uncaring. he didn’t want to be like him again. so many glares and insults were thrown at each other, tears threatened to spill, LED flashed and shone a true red, doors were slammed. he felt awful, plain and simple. you both lied in the same bed, under the same cover. so close yet so excruciatingly far apart. back facing the other’s, no one said a word.

you woke up before him. bitter and unhappy. no morning kisses, no whispered « i love you » to wake your other half. you wordlessly got yourself ready, grabbed your bag and quietly snuck out. no post it notes were left. no sweet promises or encouraging words. you could do this work trip without him. you were independent. you didn’t need a tin can to chaperone you everywhere. so you left. plain and simple. gone. since you woke up and left earlier than planned, you boarded an earlier train. how lovely and convenient. the carriages were mostly filled with androids. perhaps they were trying to immigrate to canada like the others. who knows. you paid no mind and absentmindedly scrolled through your phone, obsessively checking your messages to see if connor realised. to see if he apologised. because frankly, at that point you were tired of being mad and just wanted to spend the day in his arms. but prideful and petty as you were, you weren’t willing to apologise and admit your mistakes first.

connor roused from stasis a few moments afterward, less bitter and more regretful. he wished to right his wrongs but the normally warm presence beside him was not there. his system was slowly booting back up when his audio sensor picked up an incessant ringing from the living room. he jolted up and rushed out to pick up the ringing phone call and waited for the other side to speak up.

the room was so utterly quiet, a silence so suffocating engulfed the room, that you could hear a pin drop. the voice on the other side asked whether this was indeed your house and that he was indeed connor anderson. he swallowed dryly and answered with a soft, « yes ». running a quick check in his database, he matches the caller’s voice with a certain nathaniel edwards. first responder. he allowed his HUD to display the news. if androids could get pale, have all their blood drain from their faces, his would have certainly done so. he stood, rigid and motionless, consumed by shock and horror.

the news and the first responder’s words blended into one as he gripped the phone tighter: « this morning, at 7:48 am the train from detroit to toronto was caught in a devastating turn of events: the train soon caught in fire and exploded as it made its way over the border. it has been confirmed that there has been 0 survivors. it is unclear whether this was an unfortunate accident or the result of anti-android terrorism. »

the other person’s voice poured through the speaker but he wasn’t listening. he stared blankly in front of him. no way, he thought, it couldn’t have been… the only sign that the android was registering the other man’s input was the now constant red LED.

« sir? sir. i’m sorry to bring this— – no, this isn’t right… you must have the wrong number, he interrupted. there were probably others with your name… maybe they were mistaken... – sir that’s not possible, w— – you must have gotten the wrong house… not… it-it couldn’t have been…» but he knew how improbable it was that they got the wrong number. he was built to be logical, to believe statistics. the statistics told him you were dead. long gone. he hoped and prayed that you stayed back, didn’t get on the earlier train. the statistics told him you did.

he choked out a response, quiet and defeated. you were gone. he’d never get to see you again. « i… i’m sorry… i-i don’t understand… – we tried our best to find them sir, but… the fire was too severe… if we gain any new developm— – you didn’t save them. »

still in a daze, he must have hung up on the poor man and unceremoniously dropped the phone. its clatter the only sound in this deafening silence. the reality of it all comes crashing through and he collapsed, ugly sobs escaping him as the denial faded away to make way for the pure and unfiltered grief. he felt lost. for the first time in a long while since amanda he felt so utterly and completely lost. no more shining beacon during his dark and stormy nights. no more valued affection and coveted kisses. no more notes and no more smile to come home to.

he laughed bitterly, devoid of any humour. it was funny, just how cruel the fates were: made human life so fleeting. lachesis only gave them such a short eternity. and when he thought you both found your missing halves, bound to another by an invisible string, atropos cuts it. a small snippet that is so easily ripped away from you. he belonged with you, he felt at peace with you. he was able to be what he struggled to be for the majority of his miserable and artificial existence. with you, he was able to be happy.

but now he’ll have to get used to not coming home to a warm embrace. he’ll have to get used to going into stasis alone, in the cold bed. he’ll have to get used to his aching heart being greeted by an empty house. every cold and lonely nights. it’s ridiculous how human he felt because of you. and he was both thankful and spiteful for it.

sadness and bitter regret ripped through him when he remembered that he didn’t share goodbyes before he left. he remembered how he couldn’t have apologised to you and tenderly held you. he regretted not being able to tell you how much he loved you and how much you meant to him for the last time. ra9 only knows the things he’d do and the things he’d sacrifice, just to have you in his arms again.

instead he was faced with the bitter reminder that the last thing he’s ever said to you, your last memory of him, was a contemptuous and scornful « i wished i never met you ».

like my work? consider ordering a commission // buying me a coffee // checking out my art tag or my masterlist | links can be found on my desc

[deepdisireslonging]

Family Found Part 44: Last Ambrose Standing

AKA ‘Fastlane and Burn’, Dean and the Reader’s conflict comes to a head. But when the final moments are in their hands, can they do what is necessary to win their Last Ambrose Standing match? The following Monday an old rival of the roster makes an appearance and a demand.

Warnings/Promises: wrestling violence, angst

Word Count: 4665

Note: I swear, my matches are only two paragraphs. But then you gotta have dialogue and some plot advancement, and suddenly there’s so much! It reads quick, or it did for me. And it was fun/angsty to write. If you like how things are going, or if this chapter made you cry, comments (anon or not) and reblogs are always super appreciated. Enjoy! [P.S.: For the record, I’ve had my WM planned since January. Any similarities to what’s actually happening on Raw is just chance.]

Part 1: Welcome to the Team

Part 43: It’s Official

Fastlane – March 10, 2019 – Green Bay, WI

Renee gave the online audience a bright smile. “And welcome to the road to WrestleMania! Fastlane is well underway, and it is almost time for the show to begin. But first, the Raw tag titles contenderships are on the line. Whoever wins this might be going to WrestleMania. It’s a bit of an odd mix going into this match.”

“Yes, it is,” Cole said. “The Revival and the B Team we’ve seen before in big events like this. But how do you think the new team of Dana Brook and Tyler Breeze are going to hold up?”

Corey whined back and forth. “I don’t know. They have both had established places in the WWE, but have been lost in the shuffle for the last several months. I’m curious to see how their plan will work to bring them back into the spotlight.”

“It’s time to see that plan in action,” Renee said as the aforementioned team entered. They received a loud pop from the crowd, though that was drowned out as the B Team, and then the Revival entered the arena.

They each took a corner, bouncing while waiting for the bell. But the stage lit up again. With the entrance of Kevin Owens.

“What!” Corey shouted. “Welcome back, but who is he going to tag with?”

Renee was almost bouncing in her seat. “I think I know who…”

The stage lit up in reds and black as Sami Zayn made his return to the WWE as well. He and Kevin shared a hug, soaking in their welcome from the crowd before going down to the ring. Inside, their opponents were complaining to the referee. But the match was being announced as a fatal four-way for the number one contender spot for the tag titles. Sami and Kevin took the last corner, with Kevin starting the match. He was instantly the target of everyone else in the ring. Sami helped him retreat through the ropes and they backed off, turning on each other.

Tagging in their other halves began. At Breeze’s tag, Dana went after Dawson before he could call in Wilder, and then engaged with Bo Dallas. Sami jumped in, working his way around the ring, knocking partners off the apron so they wouldn’t be available later. Curtis Axel fell the most dramatically. Kevin bided his time, crouching on the floor until Sami needed him. Then they traded while everyone else was exhausted and out. This continued to help them, all the way up to the pin. Sami jumped in, double pinning Bo under the referee’s count.

They celebrated their win, and their continued welcome back as the final preparations for Fastlane wrapped up.

***

Beginning Fastlane with a bang was the Raw Women’s Championship match between defending Ember Moon against Ruby Riott. Depending on who you asked, both women had lost before the bell had rung. Ember had reached her goal of title reign days, but she was still fighting to see how far she could go beyond that. Ruby had suffered losses for the last three weeks, but those losses had ignited enough of a fire that Ember was on the defense. Half-way through the match, both women sprawled out in the ring after a long combination of moves.

“I can’t leave this ring without that title,” Ruby muttered. Ember lifted her head up just enough to catch her eye. “If I can’t… if I can’t win titles, then why am I here?” Ruby wobbled to her hands and knees. “If I can’t… then how can I lead my friends?” She finally made it to her feet, though it looked like a puff of breath could knock her over.

Ember struggled to stand as well and held up her fists. “But what if you can? I’m not just going to give it to you, but you know what you’re fighting for. So fight. Because that’s what I’m here to do. Not for titles or for gold, but for my pride and to hear my name chanted by everyone in this arena. If I’m honest, I don’t think you will leave this ring with the title. I don’t think you have it in you.”

“But what if you’re wrong?” Ruby launched forward with another attack, reinvigorating the match. She pushed and she fought until her lungs burned and Ember’s eyes were half-lidded with exhaustion. With a scream, she threw everything else she had and fell on top of her opponent. One. Two. Three.

“And you’re new Raw Women’s Champion: Ruby Riott!”

Ruby fell to her knees with the title in her hands. She stayed there until Liv Morgan and Sarah Logan appeared by her sides and helped her to her feet where she could hold it high above her head.

***

Ruby stayed ringside for her teammates’ match against Mickie James and Alicia Fox for their tag titles. They moved like a team reborn. Liv’s bright hair caught Alicia in the face, inspiring her to laugh. Sarah mostly engaged with the veteran Mickie, fighting to endure the reserves of years of wrestling and maneuvers that hadn’t seen a ring in ages. Alicia fought back with her repertoire that soon had the Squad on the defense.

Then the mistakes came. Alicia, proud in how flat Sarah was laid in the ring, stepped to the ropes to haggle Ruby instead of going for the pin. Mickie frantically called for a pin or for a tag. But Liv sneaked up behind the teammate and swept her feet out from under her. Alicia heard the cry as she fell and twisted around in time for Sarah to catch her. The bell rang as the Squad retained their titles. As the champion trio, they stood in the ring as three of the most powerful women on the Raw roster.

***

For the number one Intercontinental contendership, Finn Balor and Dolph met in the ring. The palms of Finn’s hands were red, like the demon was desperate to get out but the man wouldn’t let him have full control. That made Dolph warry. One: why would he hold back with so much on the line? And two: how powerful was the man if he could hold back a demon king? He didn’t have much to think about it as Finn attacked. They were caught in a headlock until Dolph was forced back into the ropes. He glared at the ref from between them. Who cares who or what the man was? He was just a man.

The match danced from ring post to ring post along the ropes and round from the floor. Both men were showing how much they wanted even a chance at the title by how much damage they could take and dish out. Finn took it the best. Dolph struggled more and more to get to his feet after each assault. He remained flat on his back after barely kicking out of a pin. Climbing the turnbuckles, Finn went for a Coup de Grace. At the last possible second, Dolph moved, catching Finn in a roll-up. Out of sight of the ref, he used the ropes for a bit of extra leverage. It was enough. He made a hasty exit before Finn could figure out why he’d lost.

Backstage, Charly caught up with Dolph. “Having won your match, how soon do you want to face your former partner for a title match? Will we see it tomorrow, or on the grandest stage of them all at WrestleMania?”

Dolph continued to catch his breath while he thought. “I’m ready when Drew is. Tomorrow. Next week. WrestleMania. Whenever he thinks is his best chance to beat me, let’s go. I will be at my best because I am the best out of anyone on Raw.” He broke off as the champion himself walked up. He was dressed in a suit and had the title resting on his shoulder. Dolph did his best to get into his space and maybe get sweat onto the nice fabric.

“When will I be ready for you? I’d fight you right now, but I want ya after you’ve rested. After you’ve had a good night’s sleep. And then, when ya have ya strength and your full hubris back, I’m going to bury you in that ring. So, I’ll see you tomorrow Dolph. An’ the best man will win again, like I do every time.” He reached up and gave Dolph a heavy double pat on his cheek. “Sleep tight.” He smirked and walked away as Dolph growled after him.

***

Roman watched Dean finish taping up his hands. “You don’t have to go through with this, you know. She’s probably not doing this for the reasons you think.”

“And what would you know about it?” Dean spat. He grit his teeth and twisted his neck. “What you’ve seen from home is just the tip of the iceberg. And besides, she brought it up. I’m just finishing what she’s started.” Dean rolled his shoulders back. “If I had gotten in your way of taking the Universal, would you let Seth or the Usos talk me out of it?”

A long pause was his answer. Nodding, Dean walked away to enter the arena.

You followed shortly after, wearing the gear you’d made for Summer Slam. Really it was the only gear you had. At the same time, you hoped that Dean would see it and realize his cousin was still in it, and not some villain for him to slay.

There wasn’t much room for that hope. Before you’d even made it to the ring, you could see that Dean had his trusty kendo stick quiver wrapped over his shoulder. You entered the ring with only yourself. You had made the choices you did without weapons or premeditated woes. But once that bell rang, you would fight to defend your reasons.

The match happened in three stages. At first, it felt like any other sparring practice when learning with any of your friends-turned-trainers. You even forgot yourself and found a smile spreading across your face and a laugh escaping. Dean’s dimples made an appearance. Then the roar of the crowd brought you back to reality. The match turned real. You tried to win a pin as fast as possible. If you could do that before the very real devices under the ring came out, then maybe you wouldn’t regret this so much.

But the devices did come out. You grabbed a chair to use as a shield when Dean finally began to use his kendo stick. There was also a chain that you used like a whip to rip it out of his hands. Then he followed you into the ring. The chain became your means of keeping Dean away. Or keeping him close in a submission hold.

“Please, Dean,” you tried, “I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

He struggled to detangle himself from the chain, effectively taking it from your hands in the process. “Is that an apology?”

“No.”

“Then we’re not done.”

It went on. Your hearts were no longer in it but you fought hard anyway. Dean’s practiced ingenuity was getting the best of you. Bringing in more things from under the ring wasn’t going to work. He’d been a hardcore wrestler; had the scars as proof. So you ended it like how they’d taught you to: find one weakness and target it. Somewhere in the scuffle Dean had developed a limp. You knew Seth would have some pointers, so you aimed for that injury. He couldn’t fight you if he couldn’t stand.

Dean was able to wobble onto his legs one last time. You climbed the turnbuckles, about to spin with your modified punch that Roman helped you with. Dean fell before you could finish setting up. The referee started the count.

“No!” You rushed down and tried to stop him. “I’m the general manager and I said stop!” He paused, looking past you to Dean. You didn’t look back. “Call off the match. It’s done. I lost.” While the shocked referee went to tell the bell box, you left the ring. It announced overhead, making you flinch.

With all of your might, you wanted to walk away without looking. But a tiny shard made you turn. He was staring at you. Not angry. Definitely not broken. Just… staring at you. Through you. It felt like no matter what you did from this moment on, you were damned. “I’m sorry, Dean,” you said, hopefully loud enough for him to believe you. “I’m so, so sorry.”

***

With the Universal Championship on the line, Seth Rollins and Mojo Rawley pulled out all the stops. Even since Monday, Mojo had found a new hold and a quick tackle that kept blindsiding Seth. The King Slayer would manage to kick out, then stand while shaking away the ringing in his ears. They re-met with a quick handshake. Seth dug deep too and borrowed one of Dean’s old submission holds that pinned Mojo’s arms far out of use with his knees. He rocked back and forth. This backfired as Mojo was able to use the moment to roll around and switch the tension. Seth had to release.

The submission holds gave way to the game of endurance. The universe had already seen Seth fight for over an hour multiple times. But Mojo held his own too. If the dream requires you to run from one side of the earth to the other, then you have to train to run around it twice to account for all the unforeseeable hurdles in between. Rawley kept Seth on his toes, knocking him out of the air and knocking out his ability to stand. He took a second to stare at the title resting in the lap of a techie in the bell box. Seth took it to use his remaining functioning limbs to cut Mojo down until he could end the match with a Curb Stomp. The Universal had been retained.

***

***

Monday Night Raw – March 11, 2019

You couldn’t start Raw without a little housekeeping first. Elias nodded as you continued speaking. “You see, you have to pick your WrestleMania opponent… tonight. I really should have had you pick before Fastlane but-“

“You were busy.”

The heat behind your cheeks simmered as you focused on breathing. “Yeah. Busy. But have you made a decision? That is… you have been thinking about it, right?”

Elias scoffed. “Of course. I’m going to challenge-“

He didn’t get to finish as a large hand grabbed the scruff of his scarf and shirt and tugged him away. Brock Lesnar stepped into his place. Paul Heyman hovered like a grinning shadow. “Good to see you, Ms. Ambrose. I hope you are having a lovely stress-free evening.” Paul somehow grinned wider.

“I was,” you mumbled. “Can I help you guys? Or are you just here to rough up my wrestlers?”

Brock chuckled and looked down to Paul. He took his cue to speak. “We won’t be here long as we’re not staying for the show. But my client, Brock Les-“

“We all know who your client is. Get to the point.”

“My client, Brock Lensar, is just here to ask for his title. And he’s going to ask nicely. This time.” Paul leaned closer to you. “You won’t be able to play him like you’ve been playing everyone here. He won’t be so nice then.” He leaned back with a smirk, posing with a hand crossed over his other wrist.

You switched your attention from Heyman to the Beast Incarnate. “I don’t know why you’re trying to be all dramatic and scary. You haven’t been here since… oh, Summer Slam? As far as I’m concerned, you don’t deserve a return.” The sass slipped from your voice. Your words scorched your throat. “But Vince McMahon called last week. Your match is already set. For WrestleMania. I was just about to inform your opponent.”

Brock smiled and nodded. He turned and walked out of your office with another word. For Elias’s sake, you hoped the drifter wouldn’t want into the Universal title picture.

***

In the ring, Drew McIntyre came to stand dead-center with his Intercontinental title over his shoulder. “We all know what’s planned for tanight. I am the champion. And I am goin’ to walk out of this ring… as champion. It wasn’t goin’ to matter who won at Fastlane, but ya know what? I’m glad it’s Dolph. He’s been impatiently waiting for his chance to get back at me for somethin’ that happened months ago.” Drew chuckled. “Honestly, I was willing to put it all behind me a while ago. But then he kept pushing. And kept gettin’ in the way. Fine. Now is the time of your destruction, Dolph. Now-“

Dolph entered early, saving the crowd from more of the monologue. For a second it looked like he was going to use the mic in his hands, but he dropped it instead. He marched down to the ring, fighting back a grimace as his pace tweaked a new sore spot. It did not go unnoticed.

They met at the bell. Eager to make it a quick match, Drew targeted the areas he knew that Finn had damaged. It didn’t go as quick as he hoped. And Dolph nearly caught him in a Zig Zag several times. But the targeting had done its job. Drew caught him with a Glasgow Kiss and barely had to work to pin him. Laughing he made his way up to the stage, picking up the mic Dolph dropped earlier.

“This is the best of Dolph Ziggler? This is the best of the Raw roster? Who could even think to step to me?” His smirk disappeared as Elias strummed onto the stage. Drew growled as the drifter stopped playing just long enough to poke at the title. Drew snatched it away and reared back for a punch. But Elias was quicker. And he had a longer reach with his guitar in hand. Wood fractured and splintered across the stage. Over Drew’s momentarily damaged body, Elias took up the title. He looked between it and his smashed guitar. Gingerly, he draped it over Drew, then walked away.

***

When the call came in that Dean had interrupted Seth’s entrance, you rushed to the ring. Dean was waiting for you sitting in a lone chair in the ring. “Well, that didn’t take long.”

“Please, can you not do this right now?”

You waved him away and tried to leave for backstage but he stood and leaned forward onto the ropes. “Why not? What’s so important that we can’t discuss what I got out of winning our match yesterday?”

With a huff, you rolled back your shoulders. “I just had to tell Seth before he came out here that his WrestleMania opponent is Brock Lesnar. And I… I really need a break.”

He waved you down to the ring, which you begrudgingly obliged. “One more headache and then you can find a hole to hide in. It seems to be an Ambrose thing. Since you’re handing out championship opportunities, why don’t you add one more person to that match? I think beating the general manager of Raw is pretty-“

“No.” With a grin, Dean stepped back from the ropes as you entered. “You didn’t pin me, and you didn’t make me tap. I surrendered. I surrendered so that I hopefully could put this all to rest. Please, Dean… I didn’t have a choice-“

“Yes, you did. All of us work our asses off to build this business, but the second that… the second that Lesnar wants something, he gets it. No questions asked.” Dean punched the side of his face as his blood began to boil. “But I’m asking questions. No, I’m done with questions. Now it’s time for demands. Put me in the match, Y/N!”

“No! You don’t know what you’re doing, Dean. There are levels of this that you can’t see.”

“What levels?” he spat. “Levels of you hurting my career to protect you from ‘favoritism’? Or of how much of your soul you’ve given to the remnants of the Authority.”

“Stop.” You walked away, but Dean’s voice followed you.

“No, I won’t. And if you don’t do what’s right, and put me in the spot that I deserve, then I am going to fight you. Not in the ring. We’ve already done that and seen what you’re willing to burn. No. I won’t stop usurping your precious plans and using my last breath to destroy the position you built over family.”

“Fine!” You spun around. Eyes flashing, your jaw ached from the tension. You focused on that tension, feeling it colliding with the pain that had settled into your bones over the past months. With a sigh, you accepted that it would probably never go away. It was all a split second, but the oceans of emotions drowned you eons ago. You laced your words with cold, unfeeling ice. “Dean Ambrose, as won by your match at Fastlane, you also have a spot in the Universal Championship match at WrestleMania. And may God forgive me… since you probably never will.”

Seth came rolling into the ring just as you finished. Dean bumped into him as you both turned towards your separate ways. “Why are you so hard on her, man?”

He barked a laugh. “Didn’t you hear her? We had all that destruction last night, and she didn’t change a bit. All of this is still for business. Nothing more. We’re just pawns. We could have been building momentum between us for weeks for another show stopper, but Brock comes in here and just walks into an opportunity.”

Struggling to get in a word, Seth said, “I don’t know. All of this feels weird. Something tells me there are outside forces here. I really think you should just listen to her and-“

“Don’t you have a match to get for?” Dean shot him down.

Seth bit back anything else he had to say. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.” Hissing out strained air, Seth let him leave and ran a hand through his hair.

***

As Dean stormed towards backstage, Apollo Crews came out for his match with Seth. He stayed on stage just long enough for your cousin to disappear, then smiled as Titus O’Neil joined him. They walked side-by-side to the ring with Apollo hoping onto the apron and Titus walking around to the back to do the same. Before they could enter the ring, Roman’s entrance took over the system. Battle lines drawn, the match was remade as a tag match.

Seth nodded towards the stage, asking about Dean. Roman shook his head. Backstage with a resolute deaf-to-reason Dean was not the best place to be. Not when he could help elsewhere.

It was like old times. Apollo and Titus seemed to forget their thundercloud-plan to take advantage of Seth. Or at least postponed it to another time when maybe he wouldn’t have backup on hand. Frazzled, the former team of Titus Worldwide struggled to stay afloat. Roman and Seth kept isolating each man, wearing him down so much that even after having a break, he couldn’t do much to relieve his partner. Seth ended up pinning Apollo, with Roman standing over Titus outside the ring where he’d been speared through a barricade.

***

“Now would you look at all this gold?” Ruby slapped the championship around her waist. To either side, Sarah and Liv snickered, adjusting their own titles on their shoulders. “We’ve said it several times, so you all should know by now, but the Riott Squad is the best there is on Monday Night Raw. And Fastlane just proved that once again.” She spun the mic around in her hands, watching the lights flicker over her title. “And this isn’t just for tonight. Or next week. Or just this month. Hell, the plan isn’t even to just ‘survive’ until WrestleMania. No. We are going to run this show, command that woman’s locker, and own these titles until somebody back there decides that they are good enough to even think about contending with us. Anyone back there is welcome to try. But we will run them into the ground, and we will do that every time someone steps to us! Whether it is for the Raw tag titles, or for the Raw women’s championship.” Ruby opened her arms for Liv and Sarah to perch under.

They were still laughing together when they were interrupted. Alexa Bliss walked out with Alicia Fox and Mickie James at her shoulders. Miss Bliss slow clapped until she was standing at the top of the ramp. “Congratulations, Ruby. No, really. That’s great. But your ladies have unfinished business with mine.”

Liv stepped up, accepting Ruby’s mic. “Um, that’s not the way we see it. Because… we beat them last night. Quickly, I might add.”

“No, no. Ruby, honey, you were a distraction to my team last night. And when Alicia was too busy making sure you wouldn’t interfere, your bubblegum haired pixie attacked Mickie James who wasn’t even tagged in at the time.” The ladies in question nodded along. “So I say, we’re not done.”

Ruby’s smile spread to a dangerous level, the kind that was inspired by a master plan. “Okay. Fine. But to ensure that none of us are a distraction to the other, why don’t we just put all the titles on the line. The Riott Squad versus… whatever you call your ragtag group.”

Despite the name-calling, Alexa matched her wicked smirk. “Deal.” She tossed the mic over her shoulder and joined Mickie and Alicia in the run down to the ring.

For the first good while, the sudden appearance of the trio had the Riott Squad scrambling to have a plan. It came back eventually like muscle memory. Having championship gold on the line, especially all of it, was a great motivator. Ruby’s mind worked quickly to move her team around so they could have more than just twenty-four hours as a triumphant team. Alexa misread one of her barked commands and tagged herself in. Sarah instead of Liv jumped into the ring, and Alexa was too deep into the ring to turn back. So she ran forward, half-reforming an attack that fell flat. Like she did onto her back a few seconds later. Ruby and Liv barreled forward to keep Mickie and Alicia from breaking the pin, which ensured the win.

Sarah shoved Alexa out of the ring so that they could all pose again with their retained championships.

***

Kevin and Sami had asked for the last few minutes of Raw to reintroduce themselves to the WWE Universe. You gave it to them easily. So they smiled and laughed, basking in the second welcome of the week. They were just lifting the mics to speak when AOP appeared from the audience and began to circle the ring. On the Titantron, Dr. M appeared from his deserted hospital.

“Did you really think that your shock return would guarantee a new life as a tag team? Kevin… Sami… your betrayal of each other runs deep. It will always be there, like a scar. And no tricks devised by you, or cleared by Y/N can cover them up. Tricks are superficial remedies to deep tissue secrets and doubts.”

Rezar and Akam finished circling the ring and came to stand at the base of the ramp.

“Secrets are the disease of the WWE. And Y/N has stepped into the role of Typhoid Mary. Not to worry… that will soon be cured. As well as the sudden arrival of the pestilence of Sami Zayn and Kevin Owens. The Authors of pain need no tricks, no snake oil to save the tag division.” The men turned their backs and walked back up the ramp as Dr. M finished. “So welcome back. But you will not enjoy your short stay.”

Part 45: Oncoming Storm 

Series Masterlist 

Masterlist 

Forever Tags: @blondekel77 @hallemichelles @laochbaineann @ramblingsofabourbondrinker @savmontreal @southsidebucky @tinyelfperson @zuni21798 

WWE/Series Tags: @a-home-for-stray-stories   @top-1-percent @mother-forker @neversatisfiedgirl @racheo91 @roman-reigns-princess @secretagentfangirl @thetherianthropydaily @scuzmunkie @cait-kae @ramsaypants @sony-undead18 @brianaraydean @st4yingstrong @dopeybubbles @crystallizeme @jessica91073 @denise8691 @stalelight @kenyadakblalock @1dluver13xx @lauren-novak @lunatic-desert-child @littledeadrottinghood @livelifewondering 

[pamphletstoinspire]

A Great Catch: The 153 Fish

“I welcome you on the eve of a great battle.” So began General Dwight D. Eisenhower on May 15, 1944, solemnly addressing the admirals and generals and officers of the Allied Expeditionary Force, announcing the proposed strategy for Operation Overlord, codename for the Normandy invasion. Underestimated as an orator, Eisenhower’s speech riveted the attention of all in the tense atmosphere. The location was an unlikely one: a lecture hall of Saint Paul’s School in London. The boys had already been evacuated to Berkshire during the Blitz. The top brass, who had arrived from the advance command post of the Supreme Headquarters of the Allied Forces at Southwick House in Hampshire, were seated on school chairs, with two armchairs occupied by King George VI and Prime Minister Winston Churchill. General Bernard Montgomery, the future Field Marshall, brought out his maps to show the British and American positions. The school served as headquarters of the XXI Army Group under Montgomery, and he felt at home there because he was an Old Pauline. Planning took place in the office of his old Headmaster, or High Master, which was the title used from the day of the school’s foundation in 1509 by John Colet.

As a close friend of Erasmus, and an even closer spiritual advisor to Thomas More, Colet was the epitome of a Renaissance humanist, laden with learning he had brought back from France and Italy for lectures in his own university at Oxford. More lured him back to his birthplace of London where his father had been a rich merchant and twice Lord Mayor. As Dean of Saint Paul’s cathedral, Colet put his reforming principles to work with eloquent imprecations against the pride, concupiscence, covetousness, and worldly absorptions that had tainted the priesthood. Archbishop Warham of Canterbury dismissed frivolous charges of heresy brought against Colet by offended clerics. Colet’s combination of charm and audacity engendered the respect even of Henry VIII, despite his bold preaching against the king’s French wars. As a priest with no children of his own, and no nieces or nephews because all twenty-two of his siblings had died in childhood, Colet devoted much of his inherited fortune to founding Saint Paul’s school for teaching 153 boys literature, manners, and, with Renaissance flair, Greek on a par with Latin. Erasmus said that when Colet lectured he thought he was hearing a second Plato. If so, his Platonism was Christian. He wanted a great catch, similar to the 153 fish that the apostles had hauled in at the command of the Risen Christ. The boys would be welcome “from all nations and countries indifferently.”

The catch was great indeed, and since then the school has turned out graduates including, just for starters: John Milton, Samuel Pepys, John Churchill, G.K. Chesterton, three holders of the Victoria Cross, and the astronomer for whom Halley’s comet is named — all rising from the first 153.

Exegetes, sometimes with too much time on their hands, and even earnest saints, have teased 153 and other numbers into signifying possibly more than their meaning. Jerome tried to find some significance in the fact that the second-century Greco-Roman poet Oppian listed 153 species of fish in his 3,500 verses about fishing, the “Halieutica,” dedicated rather sycophantically to the emperor Marcus Aurelius and his son Commodus. Of course, Oppian was wrong in his counting; besides, he wrote after the compilation of the Gospel. Augustine found that 153 is the sum if the first seventeen integers, which may reveal nothing more than his skill at arithmetic. In his devotion to the Rosary, Louis de Montfort found something prophetic between the catch of Galilean fish and the sum of fifteen decades of Hail Mary’s plus the first three beads.

There may be no end to such agile mental exercises, and I once wrote a book — Coincidentally — rather whimsically illustrating how it is possible to detect endless matrices if you try hard enough. For example, faddish New Age fascination with the esoteric numerology of Kabbalah cultism can strain minds. It may not have been a helpful influence on the popular singer who gave millions of dollars to a Kabbalah institute and recently was confined to a mental health facility purportedly against her will. Carl Jung wrote at some length about what he termed “synchronicity” and warned that an obsession with “acausal principles” could unbalance reason. Yet even a detached observer might pause at the fact that the Sacred Tetragrammaton appears 153 times in Genesis.

The point here is that there are many levels of meaning in divine revelation that may be clues to the operation of Divine Providence. “For I know the plans that I have for you, plans for welfare and not for calamity to give you a future and a hope” (Jer. 29:11). Even our limited mathematics may articulate something of the symmetry by which the pulse of Creation may be taken: “‘To whom then will you compare Me, or who is My equal?’ says the Holy One. Lift up your eyes on high, and behold who has created these things, who brings out their host by number” (Is. 40:25). Perception of this saves the saints from madness and inspires them to awe.

Contemplation of the unity of the True God and True Man encounters layers of reality beyond the comprehension of human intelligence. Nonetheless, we can perceive the existence of those dimensions. A “Participatory Anthropic Principle,” first forwarded by John A. Wheeler, suggests that the universe is structured with a set of physical constants or “cosmic coincidences” without which there would be no intelligent life on Earth, and that it is only by participating in that structure by rational perception that the constants or coincidences have their potency. So there may be in those 153 fish the Voice saying: “I have yet many things to say to you, but you cannot bear them now” (John 16:12).

It would be a mistake to suppose that the apostles went back to fishing in disobedience to the Master’s command years before that they drop their nets and follow him. Christ is the Alpha and Omega, meaning that he is able to know everything from start to finish at the same time. Before the Resurrection, Jesus told the apostles that they would meet a man in Jerusalem carrying a pitcher of water, from whom they would rent an Upper Room: “So they went and found it just as Jesus had told them (Luke 22:13).” Thus he was also able to “set up” his men, ordering them to go to the Sea of Tiberius, knowing what he had prepared for them there, in order to instruct them.

In his humanity he did a domestic thing in cooking breakfast. In his divinity he predicted what the apostles would become. Whatever else may be encoded in the number 153, the fact is that this event happened, for had it been an oriental myth there would have been a million fish. This number was a detail never to be forgotten. Even when the youngest of them, the cadet of the Twelve, was the last to survive and his mind was weary with age, he said with a thrill like that of a youth: “That which was from the beginning, which we have heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we have looked upon, and our hands have handled, of the Word of life” (1 John 1:1).

There is one thing we know that prevents miniaturizing Christ as the best of men but only a man: “For in Him all things were created, things in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities. All things were created through Him and for Him. He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together” (I Col. 16-17). In him was an urgent appeal to the intellect, which for the Jew was a function of love and not confined to the brain, as is clear in the Resurrection appearance to Cleopas and his companion on the Emmaus road: “O foolish ones, how slow are your hearts to believe all that the prophets have spoken. Did not the Messiah have to suffer these things and then enter his glory?” (Luke 24:25-26). Here was the culmination of his earlier rabbinical catechesis: “‘Do you have eyes but fail to see, and ears but fail to hear? And don’t you remember? When I broke the five loaves for the five thousand, how many basketfuls of pieces did you pick up?’ ‘Twelve,’ they replied. ‘And when I broke the seven loaves for the four thousand, how many basketfuls of pieces did you pick up?’ They answered, ‘Seven.’ He said to them, ‘Do you still not understand?’” (Mark 8: 18–21).

The unseen calculus that fascinated Oppian when counting fish in coastal Cilicia much more amazed William Blake when describing an imagined “Tyger” which certainly was not rampant in London: “What immortal hand or eye / Could frame thy fearful symmetry?” If there is substance to some anthropic principle in the play of numbers, it is found in the fact that after the 153 fish had been dragged to shore, a small fire was burning as Jesus asked Peter three times if he loved him. And Peter wept in remembering that by another small fire in Jerusalem he had said three times that he never knew the Man.

BY: FR. GEORGE W. RUTLER

From: www.pamphletstoinspire.com

[scifimagpie]

The Free Speech Fallacy

In the wake of the sudden and catastrophic announcement of Tumblr's new policy, I found myself startled by the collapse of something long-assumed in discussions of free speech. "Female-presenting nipples," "sex acts," and "depictions of genitalia" between consenting adults or adult characters are among those being banned, but erotica is still okay to write. Ostensibly, the purpose of all this is to protect the internet from child pornography - but as usual, the cure is almost worse than the crime. Plenty of artistic photos are getting annihilated in the purge.

Obviously, child pornography is Bad, but banning all depictions of sexuality has sent Tumblr's stock plummeting and already devastated the community. But is it even working?

Predictably, since an automated ban system is being used, both hilarious and troubling results have been reported - on my dash, a building with three windows, a lumpy slime shape, and pictures of black men smiling were all flagged as containing "sensitive content." Obviously, this is ridiculous, but more nefarious and concerning is that posts about activism and LGBTQ+ issues were also immediately flagged.

As we speak, the exodus from Tumblr to Newgrounds, which does protect NSFW content, has already begun. So have the floods of sarcastic (but very funny) memes. The rest of the users are panicking or trying not to panic, and often staggering between the two emotions haphazardly.

I'll have more honest and cutting thoughts about this below, but for the time being, here's a visual pun about free speech.

Yes, I did create this silly, mediocre art just for the blog post. Learning to make art is hard.

Censorship - like, actually

Hate speech and sexy speech - and art - are often thrown together, as if they were one and the same or shared the same traits. Anyone who wants to support pornographic or artistic works for their own sake - such as myself - is often forced to accept their nastier cousins, hate speech and violent speech, as part and parcel of the ban list.

There's been some caterwauling about liability in lawsuits, revenge porn, and other such things, but the answer to that is not blanket banning. It's lazy, ineffective, and tars consensual and voluntary work with the same brush as harmful acts. If it's hard to understand why that's a problem, please watch this video about consent.

Lessons from the Exodus

However, this event shows that all forms of controversial speech are not, in fact, created equal. This has long been an argument, but - given that hate speech is surviving this purge easily enough and that nipples, of all the ridiculous things, are not - we can now officially divorce the two. The one is being attacked without any impact on the other. As much as they have often been companions in the penalty box, they are not the same issue, and we ought to be more honest about this, rather than letting Nazis take shelter behind our protection of sex workers and sexy content.

Hate speech, which I personally do not believe should be protected, is visual, verbal, and written expressions encouraging violence towards and harm of marginalised groups. The impact of hate speech and discrimination is directly dependent on how much harm they cause towards people. So for instance, a Muslim woman is subjected to far more prejudice than a white man on a regular basis, so she might be more in need of protection than the white guy. BUT - that does not mean that the white man doesn't need protection from individual acts of violence, such as a mugging or domestic assault (because men are abused, too, and our lack of men's shelters is criminal).

However, advocating for acts of hate using coded language, such as the ((( ))) technique used by alt-righters to distinguish Jewish people, or references to the Fourteen Words and that sort of thing, can be harder to pick up on. Do we silence those too?

On one hand, people should be allowed to exist freely. On the other hand, if those people decide their existence is predicated on harming others, the conflict that arises does not need to be defended. It does not materially benefit or even defend, for instance, the European cultures being talked about. If one demands that the existence of presence of others be punished merely at their whim, that person is wrong.

I can see someone saying, "BUT SJWs OR NPCs [Social Justice Warriors, or our new nickname, non-player characters] DON'T PERMIT THE EXISTENCE OF PEOPLE THEY DISAGREE WITH!"

This is a fundamental misunderstanding of the position. What "we", broadly speaking, want, is to be tolerated and accepted as we are. We often have family members or friends who are or were centrists, right-wing, or even alt-right. It's their beliefs that are the problem. You might say, to put it in Christian terms, that we love the sinners and hate the sin.

But in all seriousness, "white pride" parades and groups have never done anything to actually preserve great works of art or literature. In fact, a lot of preservation work that's been done by various societies - such as by Muslims during the Golden Age of the Ottoman Empire - was done in a spirit of tolerance and sharing. In addition to that, questioning something is not the same as destroying it. I've talked about this stuff before, and it's a huge topic, so let's get back to Tumblr specifically and the future of the arts and queer community on it.

Where do we go now?

Well, Mastodon seems to be an option. I've heard Newgrounds, as mentioned, is a possible haven.

At this point, I think it's time for businesses to be more honest about sexual content compared to other banned content. This purge is timed to match with December 17th, the day to end violence against sex workers. I have gone on record many times as being in support of sex workers, and have occasionally tried to talk about the difference between trafficking myths and trafficking facts, as well as other related issues. Sex workers and creators of sexual content (including writers, artists, cam girls, photographers, and etc) are all being harmed by this foolish and ill-judged, puritanical move - and nobody is being saved from actual hate speech, things that could, in fact harm adults.

Maybe we can talk Tumblr down from its terrible, foolish decision. Maybe not. But I'm making a profile elsewhere just in case, and I'll keep posting and sharing there - and on Tumblr - for as long as they let me. Queer people are not a mistake, nor filthy.

"Filth" is not necessarily even harmful.

We don't deserve to be erased.

***Michelle Browne is a sci fi/fantasy writer. She lives in Lethbridge, AB with her partners-in-crime and their cat. Her days revolve around freelance editing, knitting, jewelry, and nightmares, as well as social justice issues. She is currently working on the next books in her series, other people's manuscripts, and drinking as much tea as humanly possible.

Find her all over the internet:

*** Michelle Browne is a sci fi/fantasy writer. She lives in Lethbridge, AB with her partners-in-crime and their cat. Her days revolve around freelance editing, knitting, jewelry, and nightmares, as well as social justice issues. She is currently working on the next books in her series, other people's manuscripts, and drinking as much tea as humanly possible. Find her all over the internet: The mailing list * Amazon * Medium * Twitter * Instagram * Facebook * Tumblr * OG Blog

[lioden-sim]

RMA Markings, Liomemo and Huge Bug Fix Streak!

Liomemo!

Do you like the old-school "Match 2" game? If so you might enjoy our small and chill minigame called Liomemo! We find it a very nice time filler between hunts and something to practice your memory with ;D It is located in Games section in Explore. The game is pretty simple - Turn over pairs of matching cards. For the best score, use as few moves as possible, while not taking too much time. There are 10 levels of increasing difficulty. Your performance is based on time and amount of mistakes! After completing all levels you can submit your total score. There are leaderboards for daily and all-time scores. You can submit your score as many times per day as you wish if you want to beat your own score - there's no rewards right now, we didn't intend for them to be there for such a small chill game, but maybe you guys will have some nice suggestions for future?

RMA exclusive markings!

(RMA = Random Marking Applicator)

Just like we promised, and based on user votes in a poll, this is a first batch of RMA-exclusive markings! It means precisely: - Every time you use RMA you have small chance to get a marking that comes ONLY from Random Marking Applicators. - The chance is much bigger than the rare markings from RMA, but still pretty rare. - Markings can pass onto cubs. Markings are: - Nimravus: Gold, Henna, Onyx, Red, White - Quagga: Clay, Copal, Ginger, Henna, Onyx - Zebra: Clay, Copal, Ginger, Henna, Onyx, Red

To keep things fresh in a year, there will be more markings added in future, such as Okapi and many more!

Nimravus marking is inspired by extinct cat ancestors that are often depicted with bizarre rosettes. Figured it's a nice excuse to introduce a bi-colour spots! Note: Due to us having to launch news post early, the few Poses are still being updated with art for the markings. Please don't report them as missing or bugs until Sunday morning. Obviously as previously stated, Mutations are being updated separately.

Bug Fixes & Tweaks

Fixed - Lions that run away will no longer have their bases reset to Golden Solid genetics - and all currently borked lions had their genetics fixed. Fixed - Hippos not counting for quests. Fixed - Broken link in beetle death notifications. Fixed - Gender-specific Adult Mutations were wiped during a sex change - but the Falcon scry mutation info stayed. Fixed - Males showing up in Overview when looking for lionesses in heat. Fixed - Being able to nest same lioness multiple times. Fixed - Protective personality displaying energy error when trying to Preserve a lion at 0% energy. Fixed - Ochre Saltlicks not passing manes properly to entire litter. Fixed - Rocky Hills encounter awarding SB despite the SB cap. Fixed - GMO chicken not boosting mood and hunger via dropdown feeding. Fixed - Nurturing personality displaying wrong amount of max cubs on description. Fixed - Mozambique Mountains missing from WAS prize list. Fixed - Lab Frogged males trying to show male-only decors while being females. Fixed - Loner personality kings making pride members lose 10% mood instead of 5%. Fixed - May Personality Changer should be applicable to any male now. Fixed - Clan admins can now pay monthly renewal fees.

NEW - Added a new button - Suggestion Link - import lion to wardrobe from the page. This works ONLY for your own lions.

Art files Stuff from Xylax

Firstly, you should be able to see Cloudburst markings in wardrobe for all not mutated lions. Secondly, I am moving out, my lease is ending soon - and this means my days are very clogged. I do my best to catch up with files daily although slowly, but for now at least I can announce here that Tailless mutation is fully up to date. This also is a reason why Felis is not out yet - I do really want to launch it soon. If it doesn't happen on June 23rd, July 7th will be my other window. This is also why I didn't touch male poses yet - I'd rather start when I no longer have my head stuck in paperwork and packing. And to be honest, I would like to re-launch the polls for poses and add few new designs - hope you guys won't mind!

Remember that June event will end on June 30th at 11:59 pm and all your currency will be stored on your account until next year. Shad added new tags (I THINK?) but forgot to tell me where, so I will edit this later.. xD Testers, thank you VERY much for all your help this week

Raffle Lioness

Congrats King) Angavu (#29399)! You have won the last raffle lady! New lady with the Wilge River BG is up for impressing in Special Lioness area in Explore or in NEWS section under News Post List! ;D

Polls and Dev Notes

Looks like you guys (with SMASHING confidence) chose craftable marking/base applicators. Sure, gems work like that already but that'd be something entirely different and I need some brainstorming first :D thanks for letting us know your thoughts! So, new poll LINK - Small idea for stud fertility requirements - simple yes or no!

[martinemdeiversen]

Five Steps that Will Make You A Better Entrepreneur

Excuses can be a detriment to anything we want to achieve. Everyone can come up with some excuse that sounds like a legitimate reason why something isn’t accomplished, but very rarely does the excuse justify why something isn’t done on time. In other words, the excuse can usually be overcome or worked around if the person is willing to do so, but oftentimes, the person is willing to let the excuse hinder his/her ability to get things done in a timely manner.

Especially for entrepreneurs, excuses can be a powerful force toward not achieving the success they want. After all, entrepreneurs are usually their own bosses; if something doesn’t get accomplished, they only have to answer to themselves for why an important task or project isn’t done on time.

If the entrepreneur isn’t truthful to himself/herself and doesn’t hold himself/herself accountable, then the only real “punishment” or consequence to not getting the task or project done on time is that the business’s reputation, credibility, and profitability is negatively impacted.

The entrepreneur himself/herself will not get fired since he/she works for himself/herself anyway- there is no one to really fire unlike those in a 9-5 job. Yet, if you allow excuses to rule your business and your life, you will not achieve the dream of having your own successful business, so it is imperative that you learn to overcome excuses and not let them stand in the way of your dream of having a successful, thriving business.

You will learn five steps on how to overcome excuses below.

1. You Must Hold Yourself Accountable 

As was alluded to above, when an entrepreneur fails to complete an important task or project on time, he/she only has to answer to himself/herself- there is no actual boss to answer to. As a result, the entrepreneur is not going to get fired; there is no real consequence outside of the business being negatively impacted, as well as the entrepreneur’s own reputation for getting things done in a timely manner. This is where you need to hold yourself accountable for any missed deadlines for important tasks/projects or for tasks/projects that are not done as well as expected. You need to treat your business as a real business and hold yourself accountable for any missed deadlines and failures. After all, your business’ and your own reputation is on the line, and just as it is in the 9-5 world, first impressions matter a great deal in the online business world as well. If you mess up, it will take a great deal of effort and time to overcome that mistake, so hold yourself accountable for any missed deadlines or poor-quality work and ensure that no deadlines or poor-quality work occurs. 

2. All Excuses Can Be Overcome 

Excuses usually occur due to distractions. Distractions can be anything from noise made by spouses, children, pets, neighbors, etc. to be logged into social media accounts, email accounts, smartphones, etc. Usually, your attention will be diverted because of one of these instances.

Many people will get distracted by their social media accounts, wanting to see who posted what content to their news feed or who is the latest person who wants to become their friend on social media. You get sucked into looking at your social media account, and before you know it, 30 minutes or even 60 minutes has gone by without you getting any work done. Obviously, you’re not going to have a thriving business if you allow distractions to rule your life and take away your work time. Thus, you need to learn to overcome the distractions and the associated excuses that prevent you from completing needed work in a timely fashion. When it comes to social media, stay off of your accounts when you are working; only spend time on them when you are not working or during breaks. 

When it comes to noise caused by others, use earbuds or cotton balls to drown out the noise and to keep your focus on your work. Talk to those who are causing the noise and see if you can find a way to reduce or eliminate the noise. Even when it comes to not knowing how to do a specific task necessary for your business, this type of excuse can be overcome as well. Look to YouTube and search for the task you are looking to complete to see if someone shows how exactly it is to be done, then follow along and do it. If necessary, ask someone in an online forum to assist you in doing the task or post an ad to an outsourcing website and hire an outsource to have it done.

The point is that EVERY excuse can be overcome if you are really committed and dedicated to building and maintaining a thriving business; it just takes some effort and focus to achieve the solution. 

3. Focus On Your End Goal 

To aid you in building and maintaining your business, focus on the end goal. Why are you building your business? What do you hope to gain out of it? How long do you want it to last? What do you want your legacy to be? Do you want to ensure your family has a happy, safe, secure financial future? Do you want to change the world for the better? Do you want your business to last beyond your own lifetime on Earth? How do you want your life to be remembered after you are gone. Really focus on these questions and see what answers come to mind. Even consider writing down those questions and answers on a piece of paper, in a journal, or in a .txt or .doc/.docx file. Review this every so often; if you have it on a piece of paper, tape it to your computer screen or have it right next to it so that’s it’s always there for you to read and review in the event you get distracted, frustrated, or thrown off track by excuses or distractions.

Reviewing the reasons why you want to build your own business and what you want to get out of it will give you the drive and desire to work past distractions, not allow excuses to dictate your actions, and allow you to complete the work you need to complete at a high level and in a timely fashion. 

4. Take Care Of Yourself 

Taking care of yourself is vital to ensuring you do the best quality work you can do in a timely fashion. If you deprive yourself of eating well and sleeping well, you will not be as focused as you need to be in order to complete your work at a high level in a timely fashion. Instead, you’ll be fighting to stay awake and stay focused on your work. If you’re constantly hungry, you’ll be distracted by your stomach and not be able to complete your work at a high level in a timely fashion. In addition, you may get worn down and even become ill because you aren’t getting enough nutrients and vitamins in your diet. If you become sick, say, with the cold or flu, you’ll have more of an excuse to stop working, which is exactly what you don’t want to do if at all possible. And, if you eat regular meals, you’ll have a greater chance of staying healthy. The same goes for getting enough sleep.

If you start depriving yourself of sleep, your mind will begin to wander, and you won’t work as proficiently or efficiently, resulting in lower-quality work taking longer to complete. In addition, it’s likely you’ll doze off while working, which could even lead you to want to get up and take a nap, thinking you’ll feel better after you get a quick nap and be more willing and able to work. Then, before you know it, you’ll have slept for 2-4 hours instead of 30-60 minutes, losing more time you could have and should have been working, all because you deprived yourself of sleep.

The same goes for spending quality time with loved ones (family, friends, etc.). If you are always working and not spending time with them, your mind will start to think about them constantly. You could even start resenting your work because you’re always working and not spending time with them. Additionally, they may start resenting you because you always choose to work instead of spending time with them, which can cause more stress and strain for you and not allow you to focus as well as you need to to do your best work in a timely fashion. Therefore, taking care of yourself is vital to avoid distractions and excuses that can hinder you from doing your best work in a timely fashion. Being sick, being tired, or being depressed and sad can be major excuses for not getting work done in a timely fashion, so be sure to take care of yourself to ensure these excuses do not get in your way of achieving a successful, thriving business. 

5. Reward Your Successes 

It is important that you reward yourself for the quality work that you do. If all you do is work and not take any joy or pride in your accomplishments, chances are high that you will start to tire of the work that you do and even resent it. Then, you will look for every excuse in the book to not do the work you are expected to do in order to have your own thriving business. In short, the work of creating and maintaining your own successful business will be worth more trouble than it’s worth if you don’t take time to enjoy the successes.

That includes the monetary rewards you get from successful projects, including product launches and more. When a project goes well, consider taking a little time off and celebrating with a nice dinner, a little mini-vacation (even if you just stay at home and not work for a day or two), or purchasing an item you wanted to have. Additionally, spend some time with loved ones. Show them that you appreciate their sacrifice of not being with you while you are working and show that they matter to you and that you want to share your success with them. Consider taking the family on a vacation or taking the family out to a special dinner in celebration of your successful project. Also, take note of the recognition and reputation you gain from launching a successful project. It’s likely peers in your industry, as well as customers and target markets, will note your promptness and ability to deliver a quality product launch on time as you announced. 

This will make it more likely that others in your industry will want to work with you on joint ventures that can benefit all businesses involved, thereby increasing your business’ profit potential. Taking time to enjoy your successes will encourage you to obtain more successes in your business and not allow excuses to stop you from obtaining them. You’ll want to have more successes that you can be proud of and enjoy with loved ones, giving you more power to control distractions and not allow excuses to stop you from achieving your dreams of having your own successful business. By holding yourself accountable, keeping in mind all excuses can be overcome, focusing on your end goal of why you want to build and maintain your own business, taking care of yourself while building and maintaining it, and rewarding your successes as you achieve them will enable you to overcome distractions and the associated excuses that come with them.

You have the capability of overcoming excuses with the proper motivation and mindset; the successful entrepreneurs are the ones that employ this motivation and mindset, while the entrepreneurs who fail don’t. You need to be disciplined and motivated in order to achieve your dream of building your own business. By following the five steps outlined in this report, you will be well on your way to achieving your dream of building and maintaining a successful business.

from Martin-MD https://ift.tt/2CnK9rU via

[creativesage]

(via 2019: Moving from Disruption to Collaboration | Inc.com)

By Greg Satell

Over the past few decades, we've come to glamorize the garage (or WeWork) startup. These days, parents take the same pride telling their neighbors that their progeny have gone to work for some fledgling enterprise that they used to have when they started a job at IBM or General Electric. Today's celebrity CEOs tend to be founders.

We can expect that to change in the years to come. The end of Moore's law will mean that the technologies of the future will be far more complex, less understood and more capital intensive. Large, well resourced organizations, including government entities, are much better positioned to develop these technologies than startups are.

However, this will be no return to the age of robber barons. One thing the last few decades have taught us is that walled gardens are a fool's errand and cloud computing has made them even less tenable. So it's becoming increasingly important for large enterprises to partner with entrepreneurs and vice versa. Collaboration is quickly becoming a key competitive advantage.

A New Era of Innovation

Over the past few decades, we've been in the midst of a digital revolution. Every few years, a new generation of chips would emerge, opening up new possibilities. Firms would scramble to leverage these new, more powerful technologies by creating new applications, identifying new markets and coming up with new business models.

This state of affairs favored small, agile firms that could move product ideas to market quickly, through a process of rapid innovation. Product cycles became incredibly short and, rather than spending a lot of time and effort optimizing before the product was even out the door, the policy of perpetual beta became the norm.

The myth of Silicon Valley is that this is the best, if not the only, way to develop technology. The truth is that the Silicon Valley model of venture funded entrepreneurship is particularly suited to certain kinds of technologies, such as software and consumer gadgets, that can be rapidly prototyped and iterated.

With Moore's law ending, there will no longer be a consistent stream of more powerful chips to fuel the digital revolution. We'll have to learn to use new computing architectures, such as quantum computing and neuromorphic chips and apply them to new technologies, such as genomics, materials and robotics (including AI).

Make no mistake, we are entering a new era of innovation and we will need to adapt. You simply can't rapidly iterate a quantum computer, a lifesaving cure or a revolutionary new material. We're going to have to learn to think more in terms of grand challenges and less in terms of hackathons.

Implementation on a Massive Scale

We often think of innovation as a single event, but the truth is that it's a process of discovery, engineering and transformation. With respect to digital technologies, we have long past the major discovery phase and are nearing the end of the major engineering phase, yet we still have quite a bit of transformation in front of us, as existing technologies are implemented in the marketplace.

It is the scale of large organizations that makes them uniquely positioned for the transformative phase. To understand how, take a look at Walmart. In recent months, the company has announced two major technology initiatives. One, utilizes blockchain to improve food safety and another uses VR to train associates in stores.

Notice that neither of these initiatives entails much technological wizardry. In fact, Walmart isn't developing technology at all, but using suppliers to implement it. However, both are immensely transformative. For Blockchain, Walmart is not only adopting the technology, but also pushing suppliers to do so as well. For VR, it is taking a futuristic technology mainstream.

I believe that many of the headlines we will see over the next year will be similar in nature. With advancement in digital technology slowing to a crawl, there is still great potential to implement emerging applications on a truly massive scale. That's no small thing. It will have enormous impacts on how we live and work.

The API Economy

Cloud computing was initially a disruptive technology. Instead of incurring significant capital costs to buy servers and paying consultants high fees to install sophisticated software packages, anybody with an internet connection could access the computing resources of a major enterprise and compete on something like an even playing field.

Yet more recently, the big guys have learned how to leverage the cloud to improve their business as well. "We've learned that the elasticity of the cloud benefits large enterprises like Experian," Barry Libenson, the company's CIO told me. "We don't want to build the church for Easter Sunday, so having nearly unlimited resources on-demand is a real advantage."

"We're also finding that our customers will pay for access to our data through APIs and that's opening up new opportunities for us as a business," he continues. "Large enterprises are uniquely positioned to capitalize off of this new API economy, because they've been building resources, in some cases for decades, and now they have the means to distribute these assets through the cloud and profit from them."

There's also a comprehensive cloud ecosystem that's emerged that's made it easier for large firms to adapt to the cloud. Firms like Apigee and Mulesoft help companies set up and manage APIs, while the rise of no-code platforms allow front-line managers with little or no technical expertise to design their own apps and unlock value in an organization's data assets.

What's interesting is that the cloud has not benefited large firms at the expense of small ones. In fact, just the opposite. The cloud allows small firms to market and distribute software to big customers more easily and access their data to build their own applications.

Moving from Disruption to Collaboration

The mantra of the digital age has been disruption. Because of the stability, low-cost and ubiquity of digital technology, a few guys in a garage or co-working space could invent a product or service that would challenge major multinational firms. With venture capital relatively cheap and accessible, they could scale their business quickly and become giants themselves.

The future will look different than the past, because the technologies that will power advancement will be far less understood, much more expensive to develop and not amenable to rapid prototyping or iteration. They will largely exist in physical, rather than virtual, environments and will be subject to all of the inherent messiness and regulation of the real world.

This new environment will be much more favorable to large enterprises than the digital revolution was, but also offers fantastic opportunities for entrepreneurs. However, these will involve collaborating with large enterprises to power new business models rather than seeking to disrupt them.

The next few decades are much more likely to look like the 1950s and '60s than they will the 90s or the aughts. Technology will largely be driven by large enterprises who have the resources to spend years--and sometimes decades--to develop new technology. Small firms and entrepreneurs, for their part, will find great opportunities helping them along.

In all cases, we need to shift from a mindset of disruption to collaboration. The technologies of the future will be far too complex and interdependent for anyone to go it alone.

Disclosure [from Greg Satell]: In the past, Experian has paid for me to appear at its events and travel to speak to its executives.

[Entire post — click on the title link to read it at Inc.com.]

***

If you missed any of the last few weeks of posts, please click on “next” (below) to find more articles, posts, photos and illustrations on the next page and beyond (if you’re on a computer, or scroll down on mobile). We hope you’re enjoying these resources and finding value in them, for yourself, and your organization.

***

Curator and Publisher:

~ Cathryn Hrudicka, Author, Founder, CEO and Chief Imagination Officer, Creative Sage™

+ Co-Founder, Women Who Innovate

[newssplashy]

Maybe it was the long weeks away from my own son that softened my eye and drew me toward parents and their children at Trump’s rallies.

During the last few weeks of Donald Trump’s presidential campaign in the fall of 2016, I found myself seeking out increasingly tender and empathetic photographs of his supporters.

Maybe it was the long weeks away from my own son that softened my eye and drew me toward parents and their children at Trump’s rallies.

It’d been a long journey covering the campaign, and I remember being exhausted by the anger I experienced.

The crowds took Trump’s lead and directed their hatred at me and my colleagues from the press, event after event, day after day, and, eventually, it took a toll.

In those final weeks, I remember being heartbroken that children were exposed to this anger, were learning from it and participating in it. I knew those parents loved their children just as I do mine, and that common bond was my reminder of their humanity and my own. I was searching for a way to connect in an environment that felt so toxic and violently polarized.

One of the most poignant photos from that time was of a boy, dressed as a fledgling Trump, in the front row of a rally with his father in Grand Junction, Colorado, just two weeks before the election. Together, they chanted, “Lock her up, lock her up!” The father beamed with pride. Vitriol sputtered from his son Jaden’s mouth.

Nearly 19 months after Trump took office, I photographed my first Make America Great Again rally on Thursday in Wilkes-Barre, Pennsylvania. It felt eerily familiar. The staging, the music, the lighting, the faces in the crowd, the metal cage that confined the press, and even the wording of the opening announcement urging supporters not to hurt any protesters, were all the same. The journalists I had befriended on the campaign were all there. The jarring difference in this all-too-familiar setting was that “president” now preceded the former candidate’s name.

As before, I was drawn to the children, but this time through the lens of 19 months of the Trump administration. The people in that arena supported the actions of a sitting president, not just the musings of a candidate. In that time, the anger I experienced on the trail had taken shape with real-world consequences. The chants of “Build the wall” in 2016 were realized in a haphazard zero-tolerance immigration policy that resulted in nearly 3,000 child separations in 2018.

That night, I photographed 10-year-old Gianna Musolino holding her father’s arm in the most tender and gentle embrace, her arms entwined around his, her head nestled in the soft bend of his elbow. There was no mistaking the comfort and protection she felt under his wing and the pride he felt in providing it.

I thought again about my son, as I have done so many times over these past few months, imagining with deep sadness what it would be like for him to be taken away from us and what it might do to him. How could any parent possibly support a president capable of this?

After I left, I wished I had asked the father, Thomas Musolino, that question. But, as I looked through my photographs, the answer was apparent. Musolino’s face was Trump’s own; a two-dimensional, hollow-eyed cardboard facsimile of the president. As much as I tried, that night, after living in Trump’s America, it was even harder to connect.

This article originally appeared in The New York Times.

Damon Winter © 2018 The New York Times

via NewsSplashy - Latest Nigerian News,Ghana News ,News,Entertainment,Hot Posts,sports In a Splash.

[southernadhdmomma-blog]

Let me start by telling you a bit about myself. I am a bisexual, Caucasian, Blue-Collar class, agnostic, assault surviving, homemaker. I identify as female (technically I identify as frustrated, tired, mother), and I am pro-choice on both abortion and adoption. You still reading? I’m shocked.

Social media is absolutely full of LGBT Pride posts, events, rainbow like buttons, and frames for your profile picture to show your support this month. Most of you already know it’s because the month of June is considered LGBT Pride Month. An entire month dedicated to celebrations and parades for the LGBT community. June was originally chosen as the unofficial celebration, initiating as an idea for a week long celebration to commemorate the stonewall riots on June 28, 1969 in Manhattan…wait, a whole week for one day? Yep, you read correctly; they gave themselves an entire week in lieu of one day, which has now spanned an entire month. US Presidents began making official declarations to honor “Gay Pride Month” starting on June 2, 2000 with president Bill Clinton. Jump ahead to President Obama, and every year a declaration was made to honor this month. Now, it is also in observance of the legalization of same-sex marriages back in 2015.

The official definition of “Gay Pride” or “LGBT Pride” is as follows: Gay pride or LGBT pride is the positive stance against discrimination and violence toward lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender (LGBT) people to promote their self-affirmation, dignity, equality rights, increase their visibility as a social group, build community, and celebrate sexual diversity and gender variance.

Now, I am all about having a positive stance against discrimination and violence against ANY PERSON. Every human being deserves equality and the ability to be themselves. Yes, I fully believe you are born gay, straight, bisexual, pansexual, etc. I believe people need understanding of all races, sexualities, genders, and religions. Without history, we cannot grow and evolve and we are forever doomed to repeat our mistakes. But can I say I have “pride” that I like girls and guys? Not exactly, I am proud of who I am yes, but being bisexual is only a small part of who I am and who I will be in future years. Have I been cut down and discriminated against for being bisexual? Absolutely. I have been mentally abused by family, friends, and strangers because I “like girls”, I have been assaulted for it, called numerous vulgarities, if you can think of it, it has probably happened. I fought against myself for many years, because it wasn’t “Christian” or proper. All in all, there are many reasons to educate the masses on the LGBT community; however, an entire month dedicated to “pride” is excessive.

Pride is not so much about increasing visibility (believe me, the straight people and homophobes see us loud and clear), as much as shock factor by today’s standards. People all over celebrate, whether they be a straight supporter or part of the diverse community, they bring their children, wanting them to be exposed and be accepting or a part of it. So please, tell me where is it ok that my 8-year-old daughter see a man in a g-string and chaps with his penis hanging down in a sock type of contraption positive? When is it ok that the same 8-year-old, and the three-year-old see a woman marching around in barely any clothes, or nothing at all except body paints? This is not the image we want our children to think is acceptable. Pride is not shock factor, pride should be a willingness to accept and a longing to educate.

Fast forward to October. October is the official LGBT History month. Falling in this month to coincide with national coming out day on October 11. National Coming Out day was established in 1987 to commemorate the Second March of Washington for Lesbian and Gay Rights. Also in 1987, October was commemorated in observance of the First March on Washington for Lesbian, Gay and Bi Equal Rights and Liberation by LGBT people in 1979. LGBT History Month is intended to encourage honesty and openness about being LGBT. LGBT History Month is a month-long annual observance of lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender history, and the history of the gay rights and related civil rights movements. LGBT History Month provides role models, builds community, and makes the civil rights statement about our extraordinary national and international contributions.

But wait, doesn’t that sound a lot like what Pride month is supposed to do as well? Yes, I believe it does. Why do we have two months out of the year dedicated to this community, my community? Pick a month. Either make June the official Pride/History month, or make it in October, but not both. You (speaking figuratively to others in the community) want dignity, equality, visibility and community? Stop acting a fool. Traipsing around with your boobs, butt, and sex organs out for the world to see is not dignified, it is not respectful, and no one will ever take you seriously. You want to look like that, then please take it back in the clubs and bars where children are not present. Clubbing and partying is one thing, but on a public street, marching for a positive image and acceptance is not the time or place to show out. When my children ask me why that person dresses that way, or acts like an over spoilt diva, am I supposed to tell them it is ok because they are LGBT? (And this goes for all walks of life) If you want respect, you have to show respect.

Why are we using the term Pride for a month of celebration/education? We have Native American History (heritage) Month, Black History Month, Asian-Pacific Heritage Month, Irish-American Heritage Month, Jewish-American Heritage Month, Hispanic-Latino Heritage Month, and Italian-American History Month. Do all these ethnicities and communities not have pride in where they come from too? Yet the LGBT community is the only one to have not just a History month but a Pride month.

But wait, Southern Momma, where is White-American Heritage month? That is a whole new pan of biscuits darlin’, but I will say this: In all these Heritage months we celebrate, we talk about role models, significant events, influential people in the distant past and not so distant (see role models), “white America” is taught and spoken of in most history lessons and schools. When we learn about the founding of our nation, the world wars, civil wars, etc., we learn about these people every day. The Heritage months dedicated to other ethnicities and communities is an opportunity to learn something new, to educate yourselves on something that was not commonly taught or even discussed.

“That’s a load of bullshit!” yeah, I hear ya. I hear you every damn time you scream it to the masses, but thanks to our society, the way we have raised our younger generations (mine included unfortunately), and the never-ending racism that spans all races and ethnicities, “white-american heritage month” will never happen, because anything a Caucasian person wants that might have anything similar to another movement, is racist and white privilege (another pan of biscuits my loves). So since I cant be proud of my skin color and where I came from (think not just white, but Southern Confederates), I hereby announce I will be claiming “Homemaker Pride Month” during the month of July (Not that I get the month off to celebrate running a household with young children in it) and I will be celebrating “Blue-Collar Worker Pride” in August (you know, when the school systems nickel and dime you to death with t-shirts, supplies, fund raisers, year books, etc).

To sum it up, to the rest of my LGBT community, pick a month. You are not any more special than the next sprinkle on my cake, and one month is plenty of time to educate on our history, as well as possibly show the world you are more than the stereotypical fairie, diva, and shock factor. I’m friends with many people from all different walks of life, and showing out, making a fool of yourself, scaring the straight people, doesn’t help what we are trying to do. Love is love, but have some respect too.

And now, at the end of my newly pariah status topic, I urge you to take the time to learn about the LGBT community, or any other group you find yourself uneducated on. I’m available for questions too, though I have a feeling my views are about to cost me subscribers and any standing in the community. All I have to say on that, is I hope to see you again and for those that I won’t, well…

Bless Your Heart. ❤

LGBT Pride/History. Enough Shock factor. Let me start by telling you a bit about myself. I am a bisexual, Caucasian, Blue-Collar class, agnostic, assault surviving, homemaker.

[bestnewsmag-blog]

New Post has been published on Bestnewsmag

New Post has been published on https://bestnewsmag.com/home-lifestyle-beauty-may-ave-print-license-article-an-exacting-list-of-desirable-beauty-gifts-for-the-non-basic-mum-in-your-life/

Home Lifestyle Beauty MAY AVE PRINT LICENSE ARTICLE An exacting list of desirable beauty gifts for the non-basic mum in your life

I get uncomfortable Lifestyle around Mother’s Day. I’m calling it an alienating weirdness life Beauty 

  . It’s now not just the competitive advertising and marketing that bombards you for the month ahead, it is also how a few beauty advertisers (and department shop counters) perform.

It’s as if they’re underneath the assumption that each mom is yearning for a vanilla-scented candle, a fragrance from the Nineteen Seventies and a rose-flavoured bathtub lotion too, slather on, before getting into her felt slippers. Look, I’m no longer calling those presents unpleasant, I’m simply saying that the advertising best of a simpering mom who loves Neil Diamond and doesn’t care what you supply her, as lengthy because it’s cream-coloured and scents like lavender, is now not the dominant one.

SHARE SHARE ON FACEBOOK SHARE SHARE ON TWITTER TWEET LINK

http://www.Smh.Com.Au/life-style/splendor/an-exacting-listing-of-acceptable-splendor-gifts-for-the-nonbasic-mum-in-your-existence-20170510-gw1cd4.Html Enough of the primary frame creams and candles. Your mom merits present that reflect her personality. Enough of the simple frame lotions and candles. Your mom merits gifts that mirror her persona. But what’s more bizarre nevertheless is that despite the fact that, in keeping with a few ads, all her pastimes line up with what your grandma became interested in a decade in the past, she by no means seems a day over 39. Oh, she may additionally have gray hair, however, her skin resembles that of Lily-Rose Depp.

You know that catalog mom in her cream satin PJs poking via a fluffy gown, cupping a mug of tea, mouth half open in an indulgent laugh, white tooth gleaming. Perhaps she’s on a mattress, surrounded by way of croissants, a Labrador pup, a rectangular-jawed husband, and exquisite children, who are serving orange juice. It’s low-key alarming that nobody has an unmarried stain on their garb despite the fact that they may be essentially playing with fireplace by way of having all of those dangers in a single bed.

RELATED CONTENT Let’s speak about sheet masks, do they simply work? Why this $12.70 basis has a 25,000 person waiting for to list Or, possibly she’s huddled up on the beach in a gray knit, blonde hair blown softly by using the wind. Her children are younger young adults, which is weird because she looks 25. Maybe she’s carrying a white, fluttery shirt in a lawn, looking by some means each coquettish and serene as she inhales roses.

In different phrases, the Mother’s Day mom is simple. Oh, the gift guide says “for every form of mom” and they imply it – each type of mom who loves the cashmere-experience of coconut body lotion and an oil diffuser smelling of lilies.

Advertisement

With all of this in thoughts, might also I gift the alternative listing, for non-primary moms.

1.The Bullshit Candle $127 from Mecca.

Don’t fear! The call does not replicate the fragrance. The creators of this particularly fashionable, minimalist black candle just desired to call bullshit on the ones indistinct, simple candle names. It’s in reality wonderfully warm, a traditional blend of Sichuan pepper, grapefruit, tangerine, lavender, rose, lily of the valley, musk, tonka bean, vanilla and guaiac timber. Yeah, it’s layered. Because moms are human, too OK?

2. Tom Ford Lip Colour in Spanish Pink, RRP $seventy-eight/Tom Ford Cream Cheek Color in Pink Sand, RRP $105 available from www.Davidjones.Com.Au

On the surface, this appears a touch cliched, I mean, it’s makeup. But the packaging – luxurious black and gold – is barely edgier than your traditional “tub salts and powder” gift %. And the alternative greater essential aspect is that Tom Ford digs sturdy women. Usually over the age of 35. For proof, check out Amy Adams and Laura Linney in his most current film, Nocturnal Animals, (it is terrific). Or higher yet, watch it together with your remarkable strong mom. It’s same parts terrifying and tender, with extremely good style, which, cmon, you already know who else is.

Three. Evo “The Hairy Godmother” Gift Box – “Repair” $65.Ninety

This uber-cool hair care organization use handiest the fine for all their products, because of a this-this present box, including shampoo, conditioner and “working spray” is freed from all the same old junk like sulfates, parabens, and other chemicals. Allow me to quote the gift container blurb because it’s what each new mother wishes to examine, “We’ve seen the destiny, a sparkling dawn waits for you, you shimmy into the bath.” See that? One day you will shower!

Four. Rodin Luxury Body Oil $a hundred ninety

This is highly-priced however your mother is a sensual being! She has needs and dreams and also you’d higher be given this in case you need to transport about the world with any type of knowledge of precisely how you came into it!

But, even as you are marching for girls’ pride, please also never neglect boundaries, yeah? What I’m announcing is frame oil is great, underwear is not. But you are in a safe area as this body oil, crafted from 11 one of a kind plant and flower oils) is a cult product, (Oprah uses it, want I say more?) and it lately made Goop’s golden listing of spesh ones which might be “clean” (study: also freed from unnatural chemical substances).

Five. Estee Lauder Revitalising Supreme + Cell Power Wake Up Balm $98 available from www.Esteelauder.Com.Au

Lonely is the idiot who buys prescriptive pores and skin take care of his mom, but satisfied is the over-worked, time-poor, worn-out woman with progressed skin. (That’s all people). What to do? Beats me, she’s your mom – find a manner! It’s lighting in a bottle. Like, it actually contains light-reflecting pearls for immediate radiance and anti-getting older generation, leaving skin right away clean and glowing.

How Your Life Experiences Can Benefit Your MLM Business

  “Success is no accident. It is hard work, perseverance, learning, studying, sacrifice and most of all, love of what you are doing or learning to do” Pele. Life experiences are a built-in encyclopedia of situations learned and burned into the mind. You may want to tap into it as situations arise in your MLM business. So, this brings us to the question: How your life experiences can benefit your business? We will get to that question and explore how you can apply your past experiences to your current objectives.

Your life experience can pay off big in your MLM business… Now that you own an MLM business, you’re probably wondering if your previous experiences can help you chart out a course for lifelong success. It can help you achieve your goals, in almost every business, life experiences are transferable. There are repetitive events that are so similar, the only differences are the timing and place of the event itself. If you have experience in the retail industry, especially with customers. You can use your experiences to work with your prospects. You’ll have an edge up on others that are just starting out in this industry.

Everyone has dealt with stressful points in their careers before moving into the MLM business industry. How did you deal with the stress in your last career or job? Maybe you had a routine set up to deal with the pent-up frustration. You could apply your knowledge in stress management in a series of blogs or marketing content for others. As you think about your experiences, can you develop them into marketing material for your business? In this business, you’re here to help others on their journey as either as a new team member or as a consumer looking to improve their health or fitness aspects.

Applying Life Experiences to Business goals and Achieving Results Your life experiences can mean the difference for someone out there right now. What you have experienced is different than others. However, everyone is built differently in the learning aspect. Perhaps you can shed some light on a subject matter that others could not. You have a treasure chest of knowledge and you must use it to help others gain traction in life. Your business goals may be designed from your life experiences in mind. Perhaps a goal could mean improving the way that you market to new prospects. You have gained experienced already in marketing unless you’re just starting out. Your mistakes are good points to improve upon for this goal.

About The Author

David L. Feinstein, noted business coach and home business entrepreneur, is the author of various articles and books that help to empower individuals. To get the real innovative marketing

Type 2 Diabetes – Lifestyle Factors Connected To the Development of Diabetes

  Type 2 diabetes is in many ways a predictable disease. It can be anticipated, if not prevented. The risk factor can be estimated to a reliable degree, based on several crucial factors. And yet, it is still an epidemic in our society. Go figure!

There are several reasons why we leave ourselves vulnerable to Type 2 diabetes as a population. Break down these issues further, and we have excuses and justifications as to why these problems are not addressed.

Let’s focus on the causes. While this is not a final list, most of the primary factors driving the development of this form of diabetes are listed below. These are specifically related to lifestyle, which means they are all under our influence in some way or another…

1. Overconsumption of carbohydrates. It almost always begins with an over-consumption of sugar and carbohydrates. And it usually does not end there, since this factor is usually present along with several others.

Carbohydrates are essential in any healthy and balanced diet. But the key word is a balance. Most people consume more carbs than they need, given most of us are not extremely active individuals. Unless you are living a very active lifestyle or have a physically demanding job, there is no need to eat so many carbs.

2. Poor eating habits. To build on the above, poor eating habits are almost always the cause of diabetes in the long run. Overeating, frequent snacking, and weak appetite control are a recipe for weight gain and increased blood sugar readings.

Remember: it is just as important to remove old habits, as it is to establish new ones.

3. A lack of direction. Interestingly, not having direction behind your lifestyle may facilitate not only the development of Type 2 diabetes but also a multitude of health problems. It is crucial to be mindful of your body and well-being, even if you are not attempting to lose weight or improve your health.

Lacking direction in regards to your health leads to taking it for granted, which could prove costly should you be afflicted with a severe health problem.

[pointedly-foolish]

[ вut "sєntímєntαl вσч" ís mч nσm dє plumє ]

word count: 1916

pairing: connor/gender-neutral!reader

genre: slight fluff; angst with sad ending

a/n: everytime i convince myself i came out of my dbh hyperfixation i just look at connor and i become lovesick again.

gosh i know i should be finishing my other fic or work on the prologue script for my vn, but,,,,,,, i just had a sudden hankering for connor angst,,,,

written during a sleep deprivation induced moment of epiphany,,,,, (purple prose cuz im extra af uwu)

I’ve never written angst before so i’d love to hear your thoughts on it

maybe if you asked him one year ago whether he’d consider returning someone’s feelings, romantic feelings, he’d reply to you with a placid smile and a polite « i’m sorry, i wasn’t programmed to reciprocate romantic interest. ». he remembered that he’d sneer at them internally. now thinking about it, long before he questioned his obedience towards her, he already showed signs of deviancy. you did what you were designed to do. memories from his past would still torment him erratically, doubts would resurface on particularly dark days. but you were the light that cut through that haze. this wasn’t a “fake deviancy”. it couldn’t have been. not when he is holding your body so close to his, warmth radiating off of each other, two heartbeats—similar, but different—thrumming together. all the softly whispered and adoringly announced « i love you »’s; all the quick and coveted pecks and all the feverish and passionate kisses. no, he was alive, he was sure of it—alive and absolutely enamoured by you. all semblance of doubt ebbed away when you entered his life.

whenever he’s around you, he feels more alive: you make him feel everything, all the little precious things. tenderness and adoration when he shares tranquil mornings with you. he feels more alive when he’s with you, all the little habits and routines too endearing: the sweet post-it notes scattered over your shared flat, scribbled upon it are encouraging words or sweet nothings. conflicting work schedules meant that moments spent together were scarce, but that made them even more valuable and coveted. captivation, was another emotion that he felt around you. your mannerism, your dreams and interests, your physical attributes and quality of voice. logically speaking, you were just another human, insignificant in the grand scheme of things. you’d live and then one day, you’d die. as if you never really existed. but he wasn’t being logical. how could he be? when you were right there in front of him? you made him irrational, and he found that new aspect in life thrilling. confusing at first, but exciting. he was eternally grateful that you let him experience all these beautiful emotions with you. he was grateful that you allowed him in your short journey that you called life.

he was happy, absolutely content, with his shared life with you. you were both in perfect places in your respective lives: you both had a stable job, loving family backing you up, and a fulfilling love life. what seemed to be a mismatched couple at first turned to be 2 pieces of the same puzzle finally finding their place. life for the both of you couldn’t be better.

but along with the many exquisite moment that your romantic endeavours brought you, the android didn’t only taste the sweet delicacies of life; no matter how idyllic a moment may be, there were times when he had to taste the astringent and sour desserts life offered.

anger. that was an emotion that he felt. but that’s not accurate, no… it was frustration and shock and betrayal, all the unsavoury feelings in the world. perhaps it was due to his inexperience, maybe his lack of exposure to these negative sentiments, that caused him to snap the way he did. to hurt you the way he did. but it happened and there was no turning back the clock.

no matter how much he begged and cried for it.

he was proud that you got the job offer in canada, he really was. and he, like any other caring boyfriend would, offered to accompany you there, an offer which you gladly accepted. that was the plan. but plans were difficult to follow. crime waits for no man, working for the law meant that connor must always be available for duty. no excuses, he was an android. but connor wasn’t just a simple android detective, no, he had a much more important role: he was the link, the messenger, between jericho and the police force. he was the crucial communication between the two forces. so when jericho contacted him about threats of anti-android attacks, he had to make an appearance at their base. the meeting coincided with the day you were meant to travel to canada. it was a simple trip really. it only took a few hours by train, stay in canada for 2 days (it was the weekend), and then return back to detroit, probably arriving in the late afternoons to their home.

but you were looking forwards to traveling with your wonderful partner after « [we] spent so much time apart ». the day he told you the urgent change of plans, connor was tired, overwhelmed. you were frustrated and expectant. a fight was bound to have erupted. accusatory statements, along the lines of: « you don’t actually care about me! it’s all about work and work and work! » and « i can’t believe how selfish you’re being right now! » in between shouting and yelling and frustration and anger and contempt–

you both went to bed exhausted but spiteful, still not forgiving each other. in hindsight, he felt so utterly pathetic, so unbelievably childish, for being that cruel, and uncaring. he didn’t want to be like him again. so many glares and insults were thrown at each other, tears threatened to spill, LED flashed and shone a true red, doors were slammed. he felt awful, plain and simple. you both lied in the same bed, under the same cover. so close yet so excruciatingly far apart. back facing the other’s, no one said a word.

you woke up before him. bitter and unhappy. no morning kisses, no whispered « i love you » to wake your other half. you wordlessly got yourself ready, grabbed your bag and quietly snuck out. no post it notes were left. no sweet promises or encouraging words. you could do this work trip without him. you were independent. you didn’t need a tin can to chaperone you everywhere. so you left. plain and simple. gone. since you woke up and left earlier than planned, you boarded an earlier train. how lovely and convenient. the carriages were mostly filled with androids. perhaps they were trying to immigrate to canada like the others. who knows. you paid no mind and absentmindedly scrolled through your phone, obsessively checking your messages to see if connor realised. to see if he apologised. because frankly, at that point you were tired of being and just wanted to spend the day in his arms. but prideful and petty as you were, you weren’t willing to apologise and admit your mistakes first.

connor roused from stasis a few moments afterward, less bitter and more regretful. he wished to right his wrongs but the normally warm presence beside him was no longer. his system was slowly booting back up when his audio sensor picked up an incessant ringing from the living room. he jolted up and rushed out to pick up the ringing phone call and waited for the other side to speak up.

the room was so utterly quiet, a silence so suffocating engulfed the room, that you could hear a pin drop. the voice on the other side asked whether this was indeed your house and that he was indeed connor anderson. he swallowed dryly and answered with a soft, « yes ». running a quick check in his database, he matches the caller’s voice with a certain nathaniel edwards. first responder. he allowed his HUD to display the news. if androids could get pale, have all their blood drain from their faces, his would have certainly done so. he stood, rigid and motionless, consumed by shock and horror.

the news and the first responder’s words blended into one as he gripped the phone tighter: « this morning, at 7:48 am the train from detroit to toronto was caught in a devastating turn of events: the train soon caught in fire and exploded as it made its way over the border. it has been confirmed that there has been 0 survivors. it is unclear whether this was an unfortunate accident or the result of anti-android terrorism. »

the other person’s voice poured through the speaker but he wasn’t listening. he stared blankly in front of him. no way, he thought, it couldn’t have been… the only sign that the android was registering the other man’s input was the now constant red LED.

« sir? sir. i’m sorry to bring this— – no, this isn’t right… you must have the wrong number, he interrupted. there were probably others with your name… maybe they were mistaken... – sir that’s not possible, w— – you must have gotten the wrong house… not… it-it couldn’t have been…» but he knew how improbable it was that they got the wrong number. he was built to be logical, to believe statistics. the statistics told him you were dead. long gone. he hoped and prayed that you stayed back, didn’t get on the earlier train. the statistics told him you did.

he choked out a response, quiet and defeated. you were gone. he’d never get to see you again. « i… i’m sorry… i-i don’t understand… – we tried our best to find them sir, but… the fire was too severe… if we gain any new developm— – you didn’t save them. »

still in a daze, he must have hung up on the poor man and unceremoniously dropped the phone. its clatter the only sound in this deafening silence. the reality of it all comes crashing through and he collapsed, ugly sobs escaping him as the denial faded away to make way for the pure and unfiltered grief. he felt lost. for the first time in a long while since amanda he felt so utterly and completely lost. no more shining beacon during his dark and stormy nights. no more valued affection and coveted kisses. no more notes and no more smile to come home to.

he laughed bitterly, devoid of any humour. it was funny, just how cruel the fates were: made human life so fleeting. lachesis only gave them such a short eternity. and when he thought you both found your missing halves, bound to another by an invisible string, atropos cuts it. a small snippet that is so easily ripped away from you. he belonged with you, he felt at peace with you. he was able to be what he struggled to be for the majority of his miserable and artificial existence. with you, he was able to be happy.

but now he’ll have to get used to not coming home to a warm embrace. he’ll have to get used to going into stasis alone, in the cold bed. he’ll have to get used to his aching heart being greeted by an empty house. every cold and lonely nights. it’s ridiculous how human he felt because of you. and he was both thankful and spiteful for it.

sadness and bitter regret ripped through him when he remembered that he didn’t share goodbyes before he left. he remembered how he couldn’t have apologised to you and tenderly held you. he regretted not being able to tell you how much he loved you and how much you meant to him for the last time. ra9 only knows the things he’d do and the things he’d sacrifice, just to have you in his arms again.

instead he was faced with the bitter reminder that the last thing he’s ever said to you, your last memory of him, was a contemptuous and scornful « i wished i never met you ».

like my work? consider ordering a commission // buying me a coffee // checking out my other works

[martinemdeiversen]

Overcome These 5 Steps And Become A Successful Entrepreneur

Excuses can be a detriment to anything we want to achieve. Everyone can come up with some excuse that sounds like a legitimate reason why something isn’t accomplished, but very rarely does the excuse justify why something isn’t done on time. In other words, the excuse can usually be overcome or worked around if the person is willing to do so, but oftentimes, the person is willing to let the excuse hinder his/her ability to get things done in a timely manner. Especially for entrepreneurs, excuses can be a powerful force toward not achieving the success they want. After all, entrepreneurs are usually their own bosses; if something doesn’t get accomplished, they only have to answer to themselves for why an important task or project isn’t done on time. If the entrepreneur isn’t truthful to himself/herself and doesn’t hold himself/herself accountable, then the only real “punishment” or consequence to not getting the task or project done on time is that the business’s reputation, credibility, and profitability is negatively impacted. The entrepreneur himself/herself will not get fired since he/she works for himself/herself anyway- there is no one to really fire unlike those in a 9-5 job. Yet, if you allow excuses to rule your business and your life, you will not achieve the dream of having your own successful business, so it is imperative that you learn to overcome excuses and not let them stand in the way of your dream of having a successful, thriving business. You will learn five steps on how to overcome excuses below.

1. You Must Hold Yourself Accountable 

As was alluded to above, when an entrepreneur fails to complete an important task or project on time, he/she only has to answer to himself/herself- there is no actual boss to answer to. As a result, the entrepreneur is not going to get fired; there is no real consequence outside of the business being negatively impacted, as well as the entrepreneur’s own reputation for getting things done in a timely manner. This is where you need to hold yourself accountable for any missed deadlines for important tasks/projects or for tasks/projects that are not done as well as expected. You need to treat your business as a real business and hold yourself accountable for any missed deadlines and failures. After all, your business’ and your own reputation is on the line, and just as it is in the 9-5 world, first impressions matter a great deal in the online business world as well. If you mess up, it will take a great deal of effort and time to overcome that mistake, so hold yourself accountable for any missed deadlines or poor-quality work and ensure that no deadlines or poor-quality work occurs. 

2. All Excuses Can Be Overcome 

Excuses usually occur due to distractions. Distractions can be anything from noise made by spouses, children, pets, neighbors, etc. to be logged into social media accounts, email accounts, smartphones, etc. Usually, your attention will be diverted because of one of these instances. Many people will get distracted by their social media accounts, wanting to see who posted what content to their news feed or who is the latest person who wants to become their friend on social media. You get sucked into looking at your social media account, and before you know it, 30 minutes or even 60 minutes has gone by without you getting any work done. Obviously, you’re not going to have a thriving business if you allow distractions to rule your life and take away your work time. Thus, you need to learn to overcome the distractions and the associated excuses that prevent you from completing needed work in a timely fashion. When it comes to social media, stay off of your accounts when you are working; only spend time on them when you are not working or during breaks. When it comes to noise caused by others, use earbuds or cotton balls to drown out the noise and to keep your focus on your work. Talk to those who are causing the noise and see if you can find a way to reduce or eliminate the noise. Even when it comes to not knowing how to do a specific task necessary for your business, this type of excuse can be overcome as well. Look to YouTube and search for the task you are looking to complete to see if someone shows how exactly it is to be done, then follow along and do it. If necessary, ask someone in an online forum to assist you in doing the task or post an ad to an outsourcing website and hire an outsource to have it done. The point is that EVERY excuse can be overcome if you are really committed and dedicated to building and maintaining a thriving business; it just takes some effort and focus to achieve the solution. 

3. Focus On Your End Goal 

To aid you in building and maintaining your business, focus on the end goal. Why are you building your business? What do you hope to gain out of it? How long do you want it to last? What do you want your legacy to be? Do you want to ensure your family has a happy, safe, secure financial future? Do you want to change the world for the better? Do you want your business to last beyond your own lifetime on Earth? How do you want your life to be remembered after you are gone. Really focus on these questions and see what answers come to mind. Even consider writing down those questions and answers on a piece of paper, in a journal, or in a .txt or .doc/.docx file. Review this every so often; if you have it on a piece of paper, tape it to your computer screen or have it right next to it so that’s it’s always there for you to read and review in the event you get distracted, frustrated, or thrown off track by excuses or distractions. Reviewing the reasons why you want to build your own business and what you want to get out of it will give you the drive and desire to work past distractions, not allow excuses to dictate your actions, and allow you to complete the work you need to complete at a high level and in a timely fashion. 

4. Take Care Of Yourself 

Taking care of yourself is vital to ensuring you do the best quality work you can do in a timely fashion. If you deprive yourself of eating well and sleeping well, you will not be as focused as you need to be in order to complete your work at a high level in a timely fashion. Instead, you’ll be fighting to stay awake and stay focused on your work. If you’re constantly hungry, you’ll be distracted by your stomach and not be able to complete your work at a high level in a timely fashion. In addition, you may get worn down and even become ill because you aren’t getting enough nutrients and vitamins in your diet. If you become sick, say, with the cold or flu, you’ll have more of an excuse to stop working, which is exactly what you don’t want to do if at all possible. And, if you eat regular meals, you’ll have a greater chance of staying healthy. The same goes for getting enough sleep. If you start depriving yourself of sleep, your mind will begin to wander, and you won’t work as proficiently or efficiently, resulting in lower-quality work taking longer to complete. In addition, it’s likely you’ll doze off while working, which could even lead you to want to get up and take a nap, thinking you’ll feel better after you get a quick nap and be more willing and able to work. Then, before you know it, you’ll have slept for 2-4 hours instead of 30-60 minutes, losing more time you could have and should have been working, all because you deprived yourself of sleep. The same goes for spending quality time with loved ones (family, friends, etc.). If you are always working and not spending time with them, your mind will start to think about them constantly. You could even start resenting your work because you’re always working and not spending time with them. Additionally, they may start resenting you because you always choose to work instead of spending time with them, which can cause more stress and strain for you and not allow you to focus as well as you need to to do your best work in a timely fashion. Therefore, taking care of yourself is vital to avoid distractions and excuses that can hinder you from doing your best work in a timely fashion. Being sick, being tired, or being depressed and sad can be major excuses for not getting work done in a timely fashion, so be sure to take care of yourself to ensure these excuses do not get in your way of achieving a successful, thriving business. 

5. Reward Your Successes 

It is important that you reward yourself for the quality work that you do. If all you do is work and not take any joy or pride in your accomplishments, chances are high that you will start to tire of the work that you do and even resent it. Then, you will look for every excuse in the book to not do the work you are expected to do in order to have your own thriving business. In short, the work of creating and maintaining your own successful business will be worth more trouble than it’s worth if you don’t take time to enjoy the successes. That includes the monetary rewards you get from successful projects, including product launches and more. When a project goes well, consider taking a little time off and celebrating with a nice dinner, a little mini-vacation (even if you just stay at home and not work for a day or two), or purchasing an item you wanted to have. Additionally, spend some time with loved ones. Show them that you appreciate their sacrifice of not being with you while you are working and show that they matter to you and that you want to share your success with them. Consider taking the family on a vacation or taking the family out to a special dinner in celebration of your successful project. Also, take note of the recognition and reputation you gain from launching a successful project. It’s likely peers in your industry, as well as customers and target markets, will note your promptness and ability to deliver a quality product launch on time as you announced. This will make it more likely that others in your industry will want to work with you on joint ventures that can benefit all businesses involved, thereby increasing your business’ profit potential. Taking time to enjoy your successes will encourage you to obtain more successes in your business and not allow excuses to stop you from obtaining them. You’ll want to have more successes that you can be proud of and enjoy with loved ones, giving you more power to control distractions and not allow excuses to stop you from achieving your dreams of having your own successful business. By holding yourself accountable, keeping in mind all excuses can be overcome, focusing on your end goal of why you want to build and maintain your own business, taking care of yourself while building and maintaining it, and rewarding your successes as you achieve them will enable you to overcome distractions and the associated excuses that come with them. You have the capability of overcoming excuses with the proper motivation and mindset; the successful entrepreneurs are the ones that employ this motivation and mindset, while the entrepreneurs who fail don’t. You need to be disciplined and motivated in order to achieve your dream of building your own business. By following the five steps outlined in this report, you will be well on your way to achieving your dream of building and maintaining a successful business.

from Martin-MD https://ift.tt/2uqQeQx via