#weight loss programs that really work

[lightblueminecraftorchid]

uh oh the metaphorical doctor in my head is getting mean

[girlblocker]

looking up pcos resources is soooo fucking funny it’s like. ‘this disease means you can’t lose weight and there’s a 50% chance you’ll be diabetic by 40’ and im like ok how do i try to not have that happen and the advice is like ‘lose weight’ and im like ok but my disease means i don’t lose weight like that’s one of the symptoms…

[librababe99]

Moments Between Time: Part Two

cw: dystopian/apocalyptic imagery, emotional distress Word Count: 2.3K

A/N: Hi again! I'm back with the second part of this series and its another long one🤭 I really wanted this chapter to focus on Logan's emotions and inner turmoil. I'm working on the third part already and hoping to have it out soon...stay tuned! - Libra * .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪. Summary: Logan wakes up in the past, grappling with the contrast between the peaceful present and the grim future he left behind. He struggles to focus on his mission to prevent the Sentinel program while being haunted by memories of you and the dystopian world he must change.

(Part Three)

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨

Logan’s eyes snapped open, and the world around him came rushing back in a disorienting blur. The sharp scent of fresh linens, the warm touch of sunlight streaming through the window, the distant hum of a city that was alive and thriving—all of it was jarringly foreign, and yet achingly familiar. For a moment, he simply lay there, his mind grappling with the surreal contrast between the present and the grim future he had just left behind.

He could still feel the phantom ache of the battle-scarred wasteland, the oppressive weight of despair that had become his constant companion in those final days. The memories of that desolate future clung to him like a second skin, refusing to be shaken off even as he tried to focus on the present. He blinked hard, trying to banish the images of burning cities and fallen comrades, forcing himself to breathe, to center himself in this time, this place.

Logan’s heart pounded in his chest, the beat echoing with the urgency of the mission that had brought him here. The room he found himself in was modest, cluttered with remnants of a simpler life—a life untouched by the horrors he had witnessed. Sunlight filtered through the thin curtains, casting a warm, golden glow over the wooden furniture and worn, familiar objects. It was a world that should have felt safe, comforting even, but to Logan, it was nothing but a ticking time bomb, the calm before the storm.

He rose from the bed, the creak of the mattress beneath him almost startling in its normalcy. As he moved, the sensation of the sheets, the cool air on his skin, the scent of life outside the window—it was all too vivid, too real, reminding him that this was not some fevered dream. He was truly in the past, in a world that still had a chance, and that realization hit him with a force that nearly knocked the breath from his lungs.

But with that realization came the crushing weight of what was at stake. The future he had left behind was teetering on the brink of extinction, a future where you were still fighting, still struggling to survive in the face of overwhelming odds. The thought of you, alone in that doomed timeline, fueled his resolve. He couldn’t fail. He wouldn’t fail. Every second here mattered, every decision could be the difference between salvation and destruction.

He caught his reflection in the small mirror hanging on the wall, and the sight was almost jarring. Gone were the lines etched by years of battle and loss, the gray that had crept into his hair, the weariness that had settled into his bones. He was younger, stronger, unburdened by the physical scars that had marked his body in the future. But the weight of his mission was already visible in his eyes, a dark shadow that lingered, a reminder of the impossible task that lay ahead.

With a deep breath, Logan began to dress, the familiar movements grounding him, pulling him back from the edge of despair. He slipped into his worn jeans and boots, each piece of clothing a small comfort, a tether to the man he had been before the world went to hell. But even as he moved through the motions, his thoughts were drawn back to you—your face, your voice, the way you had looked at him in those final moments before he left.

The memory of your kiss, fierce and desperate, lingered in his mind, a bittersweet echo that made his chest tighten. He could still feel the warmth of your lips, the way your fingers had tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as if you could somehow keep him from slipping away. It had been a kiss filled with everything you hadn’t been able to say, everything you feared you might never have the chance to say. The thought of never seeing you again, never hearing your voice, was a cold, sharp pain that cut deeper than any wound.

Logan shook his head, forcing himself to focus. There was no time for distractions, no time to dwell on the past—or the future. He had a mission, and he had to stay focused. If he let his mind wander, if he allowed himself to be consumed by thoughts of what he had left behind, he would fail. And failure wasn’t an option. Not when the stakes were this high.

The streets of the city were bustling with life, a stark contrast to the desolation he had grown accustomed to. People moved about their daily routines, unaware of the dark future that loomed on the horizon. It was both a comfort and a torment, this vibrant world that still held so much promise. Logan’s heightened senses picked up the sounds, the smells, the pulse of a city that was very much alive, and it almost overwhelmed him. The laughter of children playing, the scent of fresh coffee wafting from a nearby café, the distant honking of car horns—it was all so normal, so ordinary, and yet it felt like a world apart from the one he had left.

But beneath the surface, there was tension. Logan could sense it, the undercurrent of fear and uncertainty that ran through the city like a barely contained storm. The mutant crisis was already brewing, the seeds of hatred and fear being sown by those who sought to control, to dominate. And at the center of it all was Bolivar Trask, the man whose assassination would set off a chain of events leading to the creation of the Sentinels.

Logan’s jaw tightened as he thought of Trask, the man who would become the architect of so much death and destruction. He had to stop the assassination, prevent the creation of the Sentinels before it was too late. But how? Every step he took felt like walking on a razor’s edge, the consequences of even the smallest mistake echoing across time, threatening to unravel everything.

He made his way through the city, his mind racing as he tried to piece together a plan. He needed allies, people he could trust, but the X-Men he knew in the future were not the same people they were in this time. They were younger, unscarred by the battles to come, and convincing them to join him in this mission would be no easy task.

As he walked, Logan’s thoughts kept returning to you. He could still hear your voice in his mind, your whispered words of encouragement in the dark, the way you had held him close that final night. The memory of your touch, your warmth, was like a balm to his soul, giving him the strength to keep going, to push through the fear and doubt that threatened to overwhelm him. But it was also a torment, a constant reminder of what he had left behind, and the fear that you might not be there when he returned gnawed at him relentlessly.

Logan’s steps slowed as he reached the outskirts of the city, his thoughts a tangled mess of longing and determination. He couldn’t afford to think about what might happen if he failed, couldn’t let himself dwell on the possibility that you might be lost to him forever. He had to stay focused, had to keep his mind on the mission. But the weight of the future, of the memories that haunted him, pressed down on him like a crushing burden.

He found himself in a quiet park, the sounds of the city fading into the background as he took a seat on a bench beneath the shade of a large oak tree. The park was peaceful, a stark contrast to the chaos that churned inside him. For a moment, Logan allowed himself to close his eyes, to breathe in the scent of grass and earth, to let the sounds of birdsong wash over him. It was a small respite, a brief moment of peace in a world that seemed determined to tear itself apart.

But even here, in this quiet sanctuary, the memories wouldn’t leave him. The faces of those he had lost, the screams of the dying, the endless battles that had worn him down to the bone—all of it played out in his mind like a never-ending nightmare. And at the center of it all was you, your face etched with determination and pain, your voice a constant whisper in his ear, urging him to keep going, to fight, to survive.

Logan’s hands clenched into fists, his knuckles white as he fought against the tide of emotions threatening to overwhelm him. He had been through so much, had endured so much pain and loss, and yet the thought of losing you was the one thing he couldn’t bear. It was a fear that gnawed at him, a cold, relentless terror that gripped his heart and refused to let go.

But then, in the midst of that fear, he remembered your touch, the way your hand had rested on his cheek, your thumb brushing lightly over his stubble. He remembered the way you had looked at him, your eyes filled with a fierce, unspoken love that had given him the strength to keep going, to fight for a future that seemed all but lost.

“You’ll get through this. You have to.”

The memory of your words, spoken in the darkness of that final night, echoed in his mind, and Logan felt a surge of determination wash over him. He couldn’t afford to let fear control him, couldn’t let the weight of the future crush him beneath its burden. You were counting on him, trusting him to change the course of history, to save a world that had been doomed by the actions of a few. He couldn’t let you down.

With a deep breath, Logan opened his eyes, the peace of the park settling into him like a soothing balm. He had a mission, and he would see it through. No matter the cost, no matter the pain, he would succeed. For you. For the future. For the world that had not yet been lost.

As he rose from the bench, the weight of the future still heavy on his shoulders, Logan set his jaw in a firm line. The fear of losing you would never leave him, but he would use that fear, channel it into the determination to succeed. He had to. 

 Logan walked through the bustling streets, he couldn’t help but notice the way people looked at him—casual glances, indifferent stares, eyes that held no recognition of the man he was or the battle he had fought. To them, he was just another face in the crowd, a man with no past, no future, only the present moment. It was a strange, almost liberating feeling, to be anonymous in a world that had once known him as a warrior, a survivor. But the weight of what he knew, of what he had seen, anchored him, kept him from fully embracing the illusion of normalcy.

The city around him thrummed with life, every corner turned revealing something new and unfamiliar. It was as if the world itself was trying to distract him, to pull him away from his mission, but Logan’s resolve was unshakable. Each step he took was a reminder of why he was here, of what he had to do. The mission was all that mattered now. He couldn’t afford to be sidetracked by the ordinary, by the lives of people who had no idea what was coming.

Yet, despite his determination, there was a part of him that longed to stop, to sit down in one of the quaint cafés he passed, to sip a cup of coffee and lose himself in the mundane. To pretend, if only for a moment, that he was just a man living in a world at peace. But he knew better. The illusion of peace was just that—an illusion. Beneath the surface, danger lurked, and it was up to him to ensure that danger never became reality.

Logan’s thoughts drifted back to you, as they so often did. The memory of your voice, your laughter, your touch—they were the only things that kept him going, that gave him the strength to face the daunting task ahead. He could almost hear you now, teasing him about his gruff demeanor, laughing at his grumbles and sighs. 

But it was more than just your laughter that kept him grounded. It was the memory of your strength, the way you had faced the end with courage and determination, never wavering in your belief that there was still hope, still a chance to turn things around. You had been his rock, his anchor in a world gone mad, and now, more than ever, he needed to hold on to that memory. It was all he had left of you, all that kept him from succumbing to the despair that threatened to consume him.

The sun was beginning to set as Logan made his way to the edge of the city, the sky painted in hues of orange and pink that seemed almost surreal in their beauty. It was a sight that would have taken his breath away if he hadn’t been so focused on the task at hand. He couldn’t afford to be distracted, not now. Not when so much was at stake.

As he walked, his mind raced with thoughts of what needed to be done, of the people he needed to find, the alliances he needed to forge. There was no room for error, no time for second-guessing. Every move he made, every decision, had to be precise, calculated. He had to be perfect, because the consequences of failure were too dire to contemplate.

But as much as he tried to focus on the mission, his thoughts kept returning to you. He could still feel the warmth of your touch, the way your hand had felt in his, the way you had looked at him with those eyes that had always seen right through his tough exterior. You had known him, truly known him, in a way no one else ever had. And now, with you gone, he felt a piece of himself missing, a void that nothing could fill.

He stopped for a moment, standing at the edge of a small clearing, the city’s lights beginning to twinkle in the distance. The air was cool, a gentle breeze rustling the leaves of the trees around him. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to close his eyes, to imagine that you were there with him, your hand in his, your presence a comforting warmth against the growing chill of the night.

But when he opened his eyes, the illusion was shattered, and he was alone once more. Alone with his thoughts, his memories, and the crushing weight of the mission that lay before him. He couldn’t afford to dwell on the past, on what might have been. The future was all that mattered now, and he would do whatever it took to ensure that future was one worth living in.

With a deep breath, Logan set off once more, his resolve as unyielding as ever. He had a world to save, a future to rewrite, and he would stop at nothing to see it done. But no matter how far he traveled, no matter how many battles he fought, you would always be there with him, a guiding light in the darkness, a reminder of why he couldn’t afford to fail.

And so, with the memory of you burning bright in his heart, Logan pressed on, determined to change the course of history, to save the world from the fate that awaited it, and to find his way back to you.

₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨୧‿︵‿︵‿︵ ˚₊₊˚ ‿︵‿︵‿︵୨୧ · · ♡ · · ୨

Taglist: @angelofthorr @swthxrry @alex21705 @hughverine @itzyahgirllkita1 @nonamevenus @hughverine @ayamenimthiriel

(If you'd like to be tagged just let me know <3)

[4simpleweightlose]

The Shocking Truth About Weight Loss: Why Everything You’ve Been Told Is Wrong

After years of trying every weight loss program out there, I started to think maybe I was the problem. But here’s the truth: the real problem wasn’t me – it was the bad advice I’d been following all along! Once I let go of the myths and started focusing on what really works, I dropped 20 pounds in just 6 weeks. It was easier than I ever imagined, and the results were life-changing. I’m healthier, happier, and finally confident in my body. If you’ve been lied to like I was, it’s time to learn the truth about how weight loss actually works. [Read more…]

[esamastation]

Shizuroth, part eleven.

Previous parts: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten

-

Well, at least Sephiroth knows better than to run around the Shinra building in a t-shirt and pyjama pants - which, while no doubt amusing, would've caused far too much chaos to be worth it.

While Angeal is putting away the remains of Sephiroth's fast food, Genesis gives the man himself an assessing eye.

The shirt he'd picked up, dark green turtleneck, works well enough with the usual coat. The outfit would need some more matching accents to really work - there's too much black and grey, they overpower the slight splash of colour - but at least it doesn't clash with anything. However… It's obvious there's simply not enough space in the sleeves of Sephiroth's coat for a full-sleeved shirt.

The leather creaks in agony when Sephiroth moves his arm, and his bicep bulges accordingly.

"Couldn't find a new coat, then?" Genesis asks, resting a hand at his hip.

Sephiroth tugs at his cuffs unhappily and bows his head, saying nothing. That's a no then.

Well. As weird as it is that memory loss gave Sephiroth the kick he needed to exercise some self-care, Genesis isn't about to look a gift chocobo in the talons. "I'll mail you the details of the shop where I got mine. They don't do mail order, everything is bespoke, but well worth the effort."

"Mn. My thanks," Sephiroth says, considers his gloves, and pushes them into a pocket. He then picks up his sword, and holds it by its sheath at his side. "Shall we?"

"You know Lazard isn't going to be happy about this," Angeall comments idly, putting the trash in the garbage. "I'm pretty sure he banned us from using the training room, permanently."

"What he doesn't know can't come to bite us in the ass," Genesis says dismissively. "And besides, we're supposed to be evaluating Sephiroth! Surely we must be thorough about it."

Angeal shakes his head, amused, and looks at Sephiroth, now fully dressed, with a shirt. He looks relieved. "Let's go."

They head out, Sephiroth trailing after them and clearly trying to cover up the fact that he has no idea where they're going.

"Floors 49 to 51 are dedicated to the SOLDIER program," Genesis says, once they're safely in the elevator. "49 is training and equipment, 50 has a gym and gear storage, and 51 is SOLDIER offices - Lazard office is up there too. We're heading to 49, where the training room is."

Catching his meaning, Angeal adds, "Floor 49 also has a briefing room, it's where we acquire most of our missions."

Sephiroth looks at them sideways through his bangs silently for a moment before nodding ever so slightly. "I see."

He really doesn't remember any of it? Damn. "You don't usually hang around on the SOLDIER floors, outside receiving missions," Genesis says, looking at Angeal and arching his brows. "You're not usually around much."

"Mn."

"I think you go to the Record's sometimes in your down time," Abgeal offers, clearing his throat and arching his brows to Genesis. "Floor 58. It houses the Shinra public archives."

"Well, public," Genesis says, shrugging. "You need a keycard to access it and a high enough security level to actually take anything out, and of course none of the really classified files are accessible. And their drama section is abysmal."

Sephiroth hums, looking between them suspiciously. "A library, then?"

"If you want to call it that. Midgar Public Library has better variety - and a little less propaganda - but I imagine you've never been," Genesis sniffs and looks at him.

"Ah," Sephiroth says, wary.

"You'd be swarmed there," Genesis clarifies. "By the grateful and adoring public."

Sephiroth shifts his weight at that and says nothing, looking uncomfortable.

Angeal hides how troubled he is well as he faces Sephiroth, but Genesis can hear it in his voice. "The cafeteria, by the way, is on floor 61," he says. "It's not usually too bad, and people tend to leave members from other departments alone."

"Or you can pay the cafeteria staff under the table to deliver," Genesis muses and looks up as the elevator comes to a stall. "Right, I'll go see that the coast is clear. Angeal -"

"We'll just wait here," Angeal says, knowing, and looks at Sephiroth - who is very much not ready to be jumped on by an excited baby SOLDIER asking for pointers.

"Then off I go, to face the beasts," Genesis says and sets forth.

It's a well-practised routine at this point, to subtly chase away any wayward SOLDIER Second Class members from the training room. Mostly it just involves him walking in and making his presence known - Seconds tend to know to make way.

Thirds are trickier, because they're often too new to know better - but SOLDIER Third Classes don't have access to the training room anyway.

"Genesis, sir," a Second Class he's sometimes trained with, Kunsel, sidles up to him. "It's it true? About Sephiroth?"

Well, at least he knows to keep his voice down. "Is what true about Sephiroth?" Genesis asks, narrowing his eyes.

"I heard he was hanging around in Injections," Kunsel says carefully and adds, "In The Restroom?"

It really took them only a day, huh.

"Sephiroth? In The Restroom? Really," Genesis says as though excited and leans in. "When? Did someone see him?"

"Um, yesterday?" the Second Class says, also leaning in a little. "It was one of the Third Classes."

"... Oh," Genesis answers, affecting disappointment. "I see. Well, I'm pretty sure Sephiroth was at home yesterday."

"... Really?"

"Saw him myself," Genesis assures him with a shake of his head and rests a hand at his hip. "You said it was a Third Class who spotted him? Well. I wouldn't want to call them a liar, but… they were probably coming out of the procedure themselves. And you know how it is with Mako injections."

Kunsel hums in thought, looking a little troubled. "I do, sir," he says and shakes his head. "It did seem a bit weird."

"You should talk to the Third," Genesis says. "They're probably really convinced they saw something, and maybe they did - but it still wouldn't do to spread stories like that. That's only good for ruining someone's reputation."

"No sir, you're right. I'll talk to him," the Second Class says seriously and nods. "I'll take care of it."

"Good man - maybe take them out on some easy mission, get their mind off it," and get them out of the building for a bit. "It's not their fault. Mako plays tricks on us all."

With Kunsel and hopefully the rumours thus fended off, the coast to the training room is clear. Genesis heads to the elevators, where Angeal is casually poking at the floor button 

"Showtime," Genesis says and looks at Sephiroth. "Time to see if you're still worthy of being a Hero."

Sephiroth clenches his hand around Masamune's sheath and gives him a weird look. "A hero?" he asks incredulously. "Me?"

… Oh. That's…

"Don't worry," Angeal says quickly, clapping Sephiroth on the shoulder. "We'll help you remember." But he looks worried too.

"Or else, take your place," Genesis says, but the taunt lacks its usual sting as he shares a look with Angeal.

This… might be even worse than they thought.

-

Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss; Genesis.

[fortheloveofwonderland]

🎵 Hiya can i request Spencer and x reader with the Lyrics

I’ve found a reason for me to change who I used to be. A reason to start over new, and the reason is you - The Reason by Hoobastank

🎵

This yet again turned out way angstier than planned and I’m sorry for that. Hopeful ending though! Basically - what if Spencer didn’t get sober when he did?

The Reason

Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Summary - Spencer’s drug addiction cost him everything: his job, his friends and the love of his life. When he finally decides to get clean, can he convince you that you were the reason for his newfound sobriety?

CW - drug use, mentions of weight loss, slightly aggressive behaviour, swearing, rehab, twelve step program, hopeful ending.

WC - 2.9k

The hardest part of anything of a self destructive nature was how close knit you became with it. Addiction was now interwoven in the fabric of the Spencer Reid canvas, as much as any other facet of his life. 

Leaving it behind, as he’d tried and failed to do many times, felt like severing a limb. Giving up his vice would be like killing the very part of himself that taught him how to survive. 

Addiction was an inherently selfish disease. Somewhere along the line Spencer had stopped caring about anyone or anything that didn’t directly pertain to getting high. 

What had started as him using when the torment got too much had ended up in him using simply to feel ok. As time passed he needed more and more of the drug to reach the high he craved. And in turn that made it harder for him to even consider the idea of quitting. 

By this point his mind was clouded only by thoughts of drugs. It took a hold of him, wrapping its tentacles around him and dragging him down into an abyss of his own creation. 

His addiction had taken everything from him piece by piece; little by little. It had gotten in the way of his job, his work obligations becoming less important to him than getting high. 

And so he’d been fired from the BAU. 

It had taken his health, his energy and motivation. He’d lost more weight than he had to lose, or so he’d been told. But it also took away his ability to see the world clearly and so he didn’t notice the skeletal form staring back at him in the mirror. 

One by one it had destroyed his friendships. Some had held out longer than others, JJ and Garcia in particular trying to cloy Spencer back to reality far longer than anyone else. 

But his drug use made him angry, almost aggressive. And eventually even his two best friends had given up on him. But honestly, Spencer didn’t even have the impetus to care. 

Through it all, you remained stalwart. You were determined to stay by his side and help him every step of the way. 

But once it became clear that Spencer didn’t want your help, there really wasn’t much you could do but walk away too. 

Your two year relationship came to a sudden and horrible end one night when you’d tried to help him detox. He’d been drug free for twelve hours and thankfully he’d slept through most of that. 

But when he woke up was when it all went so horrifically wrong and after that night you knew Spencer was no longer the man you’d fallen in love with. 

He screamed and yelled and fought for you to let him out of the apartment, to let him buy more drugs. 

One more hit, that’s what he kept saying. One more hit and then I promise no more. 

With tears streaming down his face and trembling hands, looking more scared and lost than anyone you’d ever seen, it would have been easy to give him the world on a silver platter. 

But you remained strong, blocking the doorway with your body and refusing to let him out. You tried to reason with him that he didn’t need them, that everything was going to be ok without them. 

But Spencer was long past listening to reason. 

The final nail in the coffin that had been your relationship was when he forcibly grabbed you by the shoulders and peeled you away from the door with more strength than you knew he possessed.

He threw you aside like you were a discarded gum wrapper and you fell to the floor in a heap. And maybe if that had just been the end of it, you might have been able to salvage things. 

But it wasn’t the end. 

You were quick to jump back to your feet, grabbing his wrist as he went to open the door. You spun him to face you and as if in a blink of an eye his tears had dried and the eyes looking back at you weren’t the same ones you’d known for the last two years.

His eyes were so dark they were black, pupils bleeding into the gold of his irises and swallowing them whole. Looking back at you was a man you didn’t recognise. 

That was only further confirmed when he took you by the shoulders again and slammed you against the wall, causing a small whimper of pain to leave your lips as your back collided with the hard surface. 

His grip on your shoulders was like a vice, his blunt fingernails digging into your flesh even through your shirt. He looked manic, evil; and that terrified you.

“I swear to god Y/N if you try to stop me leaving the goddamn apartment…” he spat, trailing off at the end of his sentence. 

“You’ll what?” You bit back, despite the fear coursing through your body. 

“You don’t want me to answer that. Do not make me choose between drugs and you, because I can promise you, you will not like the outcome.” 

His grip on you tightened and you whimpered again, sure he would leave bruises. 

“S-Spencer, you’re hurting me.” Your voice was trembling. 

“No I’m not, don’t be so pathetic.” He snarled at you. 

“You’re scaring me.” 

“This is nothing compared to how scary I will be if you don’t let me out of this fucking apartment.” 

You knew then that it was over. For the first time in two years you didn’t see the love he held for you pooling from his eyes. You didn’t know this man. You certainly didn’t love him. 

And as much as you wanted to help him you knew you couldn’t. He was passed help. And you would only be putting yourself in danger if you stayed. 

“If you leave,” your voice cracked with emotion. “I won’t be here when you come back. If you choose drugs over me then we’re over, Spencer.” 

There hadn’t been even a hint of hesitation when he’d suddenly let you go, stepped back, shrugged and spoke again. 

“You can see yourself out then.” 

And that was the last time you saw him until, a little over a year later, when you received a phone call from the one person you never expected to hear from again. 

***

Spencer Reid was not a perfect person. There were many, many things he wished he hadn’t done. 

But taking the vials of dilaudid from the dead man who’d held him hostage was probably one of the dumbest. 

He tried to get sober but the longer he used the harder he found it to quit. For a time he managed to hide his addiction from everyone, you included, but it quickly spiralled out of control. 

Had he been in his right mind, there was no way he would have put anything above his relationship with you. You were the best thing that had ever happened to him, he still remembered meeting you like it was yesterday. 

You were a student in Gideon’s class around his age and on the occasions when he spent his time away from the BAU shadowing his mentor at the university, the two of you had grown close. 

You were his first relationship, he still even now didn’t really understand how someone like you was interested in someone like him. But he counted his lucky stars every single day. 

But his drug use got out of hand and really the moment you walked away should have been the wake up call he needed. Unfortunately it wasn’t. 

After that night he continued using for another ten months. That time passed him by slowly and rapidly in equal measure.

His whole life had fallen apart but all he could think of was his next hit. The small windows of clarity that came when he woke up in the morning didn’t last long as he often shot up before he’d even indulged in his first coffee of the day. 

Being sober terrified him. If he was sober too long then he would have time to reflect on all the things he’d lost and all the things Hankel had done to him. 

But then one morning before he stuck that needle in his vein, he ventured into his living room. 

It had been months since he’d seen this particular room through sober eyes and maybe that was why it had taken him so many months to notice it. 

It was innocuous in its smallness which paled in comparison to the rest of the room. Perhaps it was the sunlight seeping in between the cracks in the curtains, causing the item to shimmer that caught his attention. 

He padded towards it, the small glint of silver set against the dark wood floorboards just to the left of his front door. When he reached it, he fell to the ground and picked it up between his fingers. 

The cool metal of the chain tingled against his fingertips and he cradled the small pendant in his palm. 

On your first official date when Spencer had taken you for dinner you’d told him about your affinity for birds. 

Since you were a child you’d always loved the symbolism of them, of freedom and hope and new beginnings as well as courage and strength. 

He kept that piece of information with him and on your first anniversary he’d gifted you the small silver bird necklace he now held in his palm. 

You’d never once taken it off since he’d given it to you. And somehow it had remained on his floor for some ten months since the last time he’d seen you. 

And for whatever reason that necklace was like a beacon to Spencer. It was a sign that something needed to give, that he couldn’t carry on this way. 

So with the necklace still in hand he marched back to his bedroom and flushed the dilaudid down the toilet. 

Then he called JJ. 

Despite not talking to him in months she was more than happy to help her best friend. She checked him into the most elite rehab facility in the state, for which Rossi was footing the bill for. She stood by his side through the worst of the withdrawals, and he was visited by the members of his old team. 

During the course of getting sober he needed to make amends. One by one he did this, first with JJ and Rossi, then Penelope, Hotch and Emily and finally with Morgan. 

He was two months sober and still residing in the facility when he finally called you. 

He didn’t expect you to come, that’s not why he called. But you came anyway. 

He couldn’t even begin to comprehend how hard it was for you to visit him after a year had passed, after everything he’d put you through. 

Yet somehow you’d put your hurt and your anger aside simply because he’d called you. 

Sitting opposite you in the recreation room, all the things he’d thought he would say to you left his brain. Seeing you now the extent of the pain he’d caused you spread across your features and the only thought left in his head was how much he hated himself for putting you through that. 

He looked down at his hands, the paper beneath his fingers. The twelve steps. The twelve steps of which he was stuck right here on number nine. 

“The eighth step,” he whispered, tearing his eyes off the page to look back at you. “I managed the eighth. We made a list of all persons we had harmed, and became willing to make amends to them all. The, uh, making of the list was the easy part. It’s the part that comes next that’s really hard.” 

You stayed silent, lips drawn in a tight line and back rigid in your seat. You waited for him to continue. 

“Step nine is the part that requires us to actually reach out to the people we’ve hurt and make amends with them. They tell us that the only exception to this should be in cases where trying to make amends will do more harm than good. Opening up old wounds, causing more pain. 

It’s why it took two months of being here to reach out. I’m worried that in doing so I may have very well done more harm than good. But uh, selfishly, I needed to apologise to you face to face. And I’m sorry if that’s opened all those old wounds for you.” He ran his fingers over the paper by way of keeping himself tethered. 

“I got used to you being selfish.” You replied passive aggressively and Spencer knew he deserved that and a whole lot worse. 

“I don’t have any excuses, Y/N.” He sighed, rolling his lip between his teeth. “The drugs turned me into someone I don’t even recognise. They brought out the worst in me and you had to suffer the brunt of it and for that I am truly sorry.” 

“Is that it?” You shrugged, sliding your chair back. “You wanted to apologise. You said it, I heard it. Are we done here?” 

Spencer watched with a confused frown as you got to your feet, slinging your purse over your shoulder. He picked up the sheet of paper and stood too. 

“Uh, I mean I guess so?” He pulled a face. 

Why would you agree to see him and come all this way for only a few minutes? 

He watched you turn on your heels and start towards the door while he stood scratching at the back of his neck. He stuffed the wrinkled paper into his pocket and as he did so his fingers brushed against the metal chain. 

He freed it from his pocket and held it up so the pendant was in his eye line, the little swallow with its wings spread wide as if in mid flight. 

Freedom. Hope. New beginnings. Courage. Strength. 

Suddenly he took off after you, catching up to you in the gardens as you headed up the path towards the parking lot. 

“We’re not done.” He called after you. “At least I’m not.” 

Your back straightened and your pace slowed until you were at a halt. Cautiously you turned back to face him. 

“What else is there to say, Spencer?” You exhaled loudly. 

He walked closer to you and you noticed the necklace dangling from his fingers. 

“Y/N, I am sorry that I hurt you. It’s something I’ve had to live with every day I’ve been sober. I wish I could take away all the pain I put you through but I can’t. But there’s something I need you to hear.” He gently reached out for your hand, turning it over so your palm was up and he placed the little bird inside of it, coiling the chain into your hand. 

You wrapped your fingers around it once he let you go, holding it tight as if it might come alive and fly away. 

“What? What do you need me to hear?” Your eyes gave way to your sadness, to the pain he’d caused you. 

“It was finding that necklace that gave me the courage I needed to ask for help. It gave me the strength I needed to get sober. It offered me the hope that I could get clean this time, the freedom of knowing I didn’t need drugs to survive. It gave me a new beginning, it opened a door for me to start over.” He felt tears in his eyes and he fought to keep them at bay. 

“Spencer, I’m really pleased you finally got sober, I am. But let’s not pretend it had anything to do with me or that necklace.” You swallowed, holding the chain tighter still. 

“No one’s pretending. It shouldn’t have taken me as long as it did to realise and I can’t change that. But I found a reason for me to change who I used to be. A reason to start over new.” He sniffed, unable to stop reaching for you and cupping the side of your neck. “And the reason is you.” 

Your own tears overflowed, one’s you didn’t realise had worked their way to your eyes. You loosened the grip on the chain slightly, letting your fingers brush over the metal. 

“Spencer,” you mumbled. “I…”

“I know it’s probably too late for all of this and I can’t expect you to just forgive me overnight. But if you think there’s ever a chance you might one day forgive me…it would mean a lot of you would come and visit again.” He let his hand fall to his side again and took a step back. 

You wiped your tears with your free hand and nodded slowly. 

“Can I…I need to think about it, ok? I just need to process all of this.” 

“Of course, take all the time you need.” He nodded. 

You said your goodbyes after that and Spencer slumped back inside, convinced he would never see you again. 

One week later when he arrived in the rec room to meet his visitor, you were sitting at the table waiting for him, smiling softly in his direction. 

And taking in the small silver swallow in its rightful place hanging around your neck, Spencer felt hope. A new beginning unfolding right before his very eyes in the recreation room of his rehab facility. 

As he slid into the chair opposite you and you reached across the table, brushing your fingers over his knuckles, he knew he’d found his reason for being put on this Earth. 

And the reason was you. 

[blissfullyecho]

january 2023 recap + february 2023 goals:

what i learned in january 2023:

taking my time in improving myself. things don’t have to happen overnight. celebrate the little strides i make and actually enjoy the process of the journey instead of only being happy once my goals have been met.

what i accomplished in january 2023:

finally got my car headlights repaired and fixed the registration problem, reapplied to nursing school and another college in the area, applied for a position at the hospital i want to work at in the future, got my hair to a lighter blonde and finally cut off the dead ends. i’m sure there’s more but it’s hard to think of everything so i’ll update this if needed.

what surprised me in january 2023:

that barre workouts and ballet strength workouts are actually really hard and i enjoy those types of workouts than just going to the gym.

the day i remember best in january 2023:

my grandmothers knee surgery day.

the person that played a huge role in my life in january 2023:

my grandmother. she went in for knee surgery last week which sparked my interest for nursing school again.

my best and worst moment in january 2023:

my best moment was when i made money at work and was tipped $1,000 to play beer pong with them (no alcohol in the cups though).

my worst moment was the time i just didn’t keep my apartment clean and i didn’t have the motivation to clean it for a week.

what i wished i had done differently in january 2023:

i wish i stayed more focus with my weight loss goals. it’s really hard going from fast food and exercising once a month to doing everything overnight. i wish i started with smaller goals and then became consistent to achieve the major goal. i also wish i had more of a work routine since i can go to work whenever i want and having that freedom let’s me be lazy whenever i want to (not having discipline).

what i stopped doing in january 2023:

i stopped focusing on dating for now until i have improved myself x10. so guys are no longer a focus for me at the moment.

what i started doing in january 2023:

i started this “personal development + accountability” blog, i started drinking more water, i decided to use better quality hair products to keep my blonde bright, healthy, and pretty, and i started to look a bit more put together (not drastically) whenever i go out.

goals i’d like to achieve for february 2023:

create a work schedule and follow it, even on the days i don’t feel like working

follow the diet/exercise regimen that worked for me before and aim to lose at least 10lbs

get selected for the position i applied for at the hospital’s earn and learn program

finish registering for college/nursing classes

start working on my brand (business)

[canadiannationalfox]

Murder Drones Fanfic - Dove Feathers

tw// disordered eating, unhealthy weight loss, self hatred, depression, abusive parents, illness

Another day working at the Elliott Manor, it was pretty normal as of late for the little maid drone known simply as J. Every day was usually the same. Wake up her dearest friend Tessa, lay out Tessa's clothes, make sure Tessa made it to studies on time, bring Tessa some mid-morning tea, some tidying in the manor, bring Tessa back to her room from studies and then keep Tessa entertained until dinner time, and then the nightly routines.

Lately, N had been having some minor programming issues, so J had to pick up the slack on his work load.

"Fucking hell, it's almost like I have to do a lot of the workload myself," J groaned as she brought up some fresh dresses for Tessa to wear while on wakeup call for the beloved human girl.

J smiled a little thinking about her favourite human. The maid drone might have been stern, stoic, and grumpy, but around Tessa she didn't feel those emotions as much. She felt happy to help, more receptive to feed back from the girl, and looking for loopholes so they could make the best of the situation. The platinum haired drone blissfully, with a skip in her step, strolled down the hallway, thinking about part of a story Tessa had to study.

"The lovely gift of finding a strand of your beloved's long hair is like finding a feather left behind by an angel," J thought, not thinking too much at first, but recalled that in the last couple days of cleaning Tessa's bedroom, she was finding a bit more than usual of the cool-dark strands about. "Dove feathers," J joked to herself as she got closer to Tessa's bedroom door, but stopped upon hearing the soft sobs of the 11 year old girl.

J gently pushed the door open of the room, and as soon as Tessa heard the sound of the door, she stuffed something into her left night table drawer and put on a mourning veil, the dark heavier-tulle draped however over the back of Tessa's head instead of her face.

Tessa wiped her eyes and smiled happily to J. "Good Morning, Jaybird," Tessa greeted, trying to sound cheerful.

The maid drone approached Tessa and greeted, "Good Morning, little princess," before seeing Tessa's sparkling grey eyes fight back teardrops, "What's wrong?"

"I'm 'right, Jaybird... honest," the girl with the big dark blue bow insisted, finally able to push her sad feelings away. She was about to speak when her stomach grumbled.

"Sounds like you could use something to eat," J chuckled, smiling happily until she saw the 11-year-old girl's expression of sorrow.

"Just tea today, J, I'm not that hungry."

J stood in waiting, worry filled her core, standing by for Tessa asking for assistance.

The Elliott Heiress stepped behind her changing screen with a dress and was changing. "I don't need to eat, I'm..." she stopped explaining in a somber tone before trying to sound more cheery, "Pretending to be a drone today, I don't need to eat anything, just a spot of coolant or oil will do."

J, upon being called by Tessa, began walking over to the screen, seeing a lot more 'dove feathers' than before, in a trail, even a bigger group of strands, this was worrying.

"Could you synch the back for me, Jaybird? My dress is a little loose."

The platinum haired maid began to comply, helping tighten the ribbon at the waist. "You really like your mourning veil from the mausoleum, huh, Tessa?" J assessed politely, trying to make conversation.

"Oh, y-yeah, thank you," Tessa replied trying to sound cheerful, but her voice was a bit sad, "It helps me feel better about things."

J offered politely once she made sure the bow at the back of Tessa's dress was secured and tied, as over the last little while Tessa had been rescinding the offer, "I haven't been on night-time brush duty for a while, Tessa, are you doing alright on your own or do you want some-" stopped before she could even finish the sentence.

"NO!" Tessa yelped in fright while jumping back a little, realizing who she was talking to. "I'm sorry, J... but, no thank you. Sorry I got scared." Despite needing a hug badly, Tessa had to go downstairs to the dining hall since it was too rainy for the family to enjoy breakfast in the sunroom.

J stayed back, deciding to help clean up in Tessa's room, but also as a way of sleuthing. The drone kept cleaning up around the room, little stray pieces of wire, some screws, some slags from a soldering gun. And a lot more cool-black hairs.

J approached Tessa's vanity desk, where there was a lot more broken strands laying about. She opened a drawer to find Tess' hairbrush and she felt her LED eyes go into the ring mode.

There was clumps of frail black hair stuck to the brush.

The maid looked more closely at the hairs, assessing the ends. Having been the drone that helped Tessa when collecting for wigs and sewing them, she knew what a point cut or blunt cut or even the drag marks of a razor comb looked like when Tessa borrowed them from her dad when she couldn't find the sewing scissors. But it was clear that this was breakage, the ends were frayed and straw-like.

J went to find N who was in the library working close to the drone Tessa affectionately called "Vivianna" when she was younger.

The cheery little butler was trying out his recently repaired wrist nodes in helping put away the books Louisa had read the night before. V was working diligently to take out all the books Tessa would need for her tutoring for the day.

J approached N and bonked him on the back of the head. "Hey, Insipid Intern!" she greeted in an aggressive tone, "Why didn't you tell me about Tessa."

N turned his attention to where the slap came from, almost turning his head most of the way around like an owl, trilling with a happy voice, "Oh, Hi J! I don't know what you mean."

The pigtailed drone held up a clump of black hair and ordered with a snarl, "The fact Tessa's shedding hair like a border collie in the summer!" she put her hands on her hips, still holding the scraggled cluster of strands, "That and the fact she's not eating. So spill the tea or I'll spill some tea on you."

N blinked his bright alabaster LED eyes in confusion, still smiling in bemusement.

The maid with her grey hair done back in a low bun, knew some intel and spoke up, "Louisa has been trying to get Tessa to cut back on caloric intake," she adjusted her glasses and said in a matter-of-fact tone, "It's likely in an attempt at keeping Tessa thinner, despite the fact that a growing girl needs nutrients and calories to grow."

"That still doesn't explain the hair loss."

V went over to a medical book of symptoms for kids and opened it up, reading aloud to try to be helpful, "Hair loss, can be caused by lack of proper nutrition, stress, certain medical treatments, over exposure to chemicals, or ailments." She closed the book and stated with a half smile, "Hope that gives some insight, boss."

J turned her attention back to N. "N, I don't like you but I'm going to need you to be a mule for me."

The happy little snowy-haired butler giggled happily before responding joyfully, "I like doing anything."

J commanded, "I want you later when you're in the kitchen to go into the pantry and get me some protein bars and some dried fruits. Hide them under your helmet so when you do go up to Tessa later you can give her something to eat."

"Is there anything you want me to help with?" V asked curiously, standing at attention but smiling in a hopeful manner, "Mrs Elliott is sending me on a pharmacy run."

"You're going to have to buy a bottle of children's chewable vitamins for Tessa. We need to do absolutely everything to get her healthy again without arousing suspicions from Mrs Elliott, who is likely monitoring Tessa's figure."

The two drones nodded, accepting their tasks.

N asked curiously as he tilted his head like a dog, "But what about you, J? What's your mission?"

"I'm going to be Tessa's emotional support and try to coax her back before she starts having an ED like her mother."

After Tessa was done her studies, she was feeling really light-headed. The poor girl had trouble focusing at all to the tutor's lesson. She grabbed an umbrella to go outside despite it still raining.

The Elliott girl was about to take a step when she started to lose her balance, when suddenly she fell into the arms of a drone. She smiled as she heard the voice behind her.

"Oops there, don't want you falling down, Tessa."

"Th-thank you, Jaybird," Tessa spoke somberly as she was helped to stand upright again, "You didn't have to, I would've been alright."

J worriedly asked, "Why are you going out?" she talked in front of Tessa and held her hands soothingly, "You're not feeling well and you could catch cold if you go out in the rain."

Tessa shrugged it off with a smile. "Oh, it's no issue, J, honest."

"Princess, I need you to listen to me," J ordered firmly, "I can't risk you getting more sick."

Tessa got really upset now, her temper flared like a firecracker due to her being more ravenous than a dingo in a bakery's dumpster. Tessa's heart stung, the adoring little pet name was now an insult. "Don't call me that, and maybe there's a reason I want to go outside, J. Why are you controlling me?"

"What's wrong with calling you a princess, Tessa? Princesses are strong and brave. They lead with kindness and endure perils that no little girl should ever have to live through."

"PRINCESSES ARE ALSO BEAUTIFUL!" Tessa screamed back, her eyes welling up with tears as she took off her veil, showing the tattered wreck a-top her head, all uneven from breakage. Tessa sank to the floor, holding her self in a hug and crying. "How can I be a princess when I'm not thin enough and probably going to go bald as an egg? I'm just a mistake. A stupid, ugly, worthless mistake."

J sat on the ground next to Tessa and held the crying girl tightly. "Shhh, hey... We can get through this together,"

Tessa's hands shook as she held them out to look at them. "I'm so hungry that I screamed at you, but if I eat then I'll get in trouble, it's not fair. It's not fair, J, it's not fair. I just wanted to go to the raspberry plant by the graveyard so I could eat something."

J hugged Tessa from the side still, being reassuring and gentle as she spoke. "I know you're scared, but where is your Mother right now?"

"She's with Father right now, drinking wine in the bar area," Tessa answered as she wiped her tears, "Wh-why?"

J stood up, putting Tessa onto her shoulders like when the girl was much younger. "Well if that's the case, we're getting you to the kitchen, we're going to give you something to eat." She asked curiously as she started to walk along, Tessa hanging onto the top of the maid drone's head, "How little have you been eating?"

"I had some salted cucumber for breakfast and a single piece of toast with jam."

"Okay, that's good, that means Refeeding Syndrome won't be too big of a factor."

"Wait, what?" Tessa asked, as J brought her to the kitchen, "Have you been reading my medical books?"

"Somewhat," J replied, helping Tessa down off her shoulders before she went to the large industrial sized fridge, "What are you fixing for then, Tessa?"

"Strawberries... lots, please!" the ebony haired girl pleaded enthusiastically.

J brought Tessa a bowl of grapes, strawberries, and an apricot. "I know you want lots, but you don't want to shock your body and make yourself sick by over eating," the maid instructed caringly as she placed her hands on Tessa's left hand, "remember, small steps, Tess," she let go of her favourite human's hand to let her have the healthy snack.

Tessa still ravenously ate all the fresh fruit she was given, feeling a lot better once she had eaten. "I needed that, thank you Jaybird. I'm sorry I screamed at you."

"Hey, you had to get it out of your system. I get mad at other drones all the time when they get on my nerves," the wise words of the drone managed to make the human she adored giggle, J's most favourite sound in the world.

"C-could you maybe still call me a little princess, though? I... I still want to be called that, even if I don't feel that pretty."

Without missing a beat, J replied cheerfully, "Who said you're not pretty, princess?"

Tessa's eyes welled up and she hugged J tightly. "Thank you!"

"Remember, it's like that fairytale about the ogre princess, it's not about what's on the outside but about what's on the inside."

V came up to Tessa's room later, having snuck in the pocket of her dress the vitamins she had bought secretively at the pharmacy, she knocked on the door, and was happy to hear Tessa's voice sounding cheerful.

"Come in!"

The bespectacled maid drone opened the door to see J putting some very light weight bows on two braids of long hair at the back of Tessa's head. V came in and said cheerfully, "Oh! Miss Tessa, you look different."

Tessa giggled as she held up the stolen razor comb, "I'm trying out a new look!" she didn't want to admit what was going on, and she was in better spirits now, not realizing V knew. "Look, it's long at some parts and shorter in the back!" the girl trilled, showing off her black hair that was shoulder length at the back but much longer closer to the front. "It'll be a lot easier to care for."

J laughed cheerfully as she patted the 11-year-old human girl on the back, "Tessa's so talented and clever."

V gave Tessa the bottle of vitamins and responded while playing a little dumb, "I was sent down to the pharmacy to get some things and I saw these and thought you'd like them. They look like candy and are labelled as berry flavoured."

"Oh, silly, Vee!" the girl with the bows in her hair giggled, "These are vitamins! Not candy! But, I will still enjoy them!"

V went on her way, feeling happy she could sneakily help her friends' favourite human.

Once again it was just Tessa and J after V had left and N had dropped off some snacks that Tessa could hide in one of the decorative vintage jars she liked to collect.

Tessa took one of the vitamins and smiled happily to J, once she was done eating it, she giggled happily, "I guess you had a lot planned for helping save me, Jaybird."

J responded joyfully, glad to hear the joyfulness returned to her beloved's voice, "Anything for my little princess."

The Elliott heiress sat with her back straight and her head held high, because despite the set back and the lost dove feathers, she was once again soaring emotionally thanks to her Jaybird helping her, which after a few more weeks, Tessa was a lot healthier, helping carry her through until her Father put an end to the restrictive diet on his daughter.

The End

[lightblueminecraftorchid]

*rattling the bars of my cage and screaming*

I WANT TO TAKE CARE OF MY HEALTH I JUST DONT KNOW HOW TO ASK FOR HELP IN A WAY THAT WILL LET ME BE TAKEN SERIOUSLY

[starsurface]

Hi, hello, how are you? I hope you’re good. :3.

I love your writing and I was hoping you could do a CG Kung Lao, Rain and Kenshi (separate) with a regressor reader? Just some head cannons or something like that Tehehe have a good day sending virtual snackies 🍦🍪🍩🍭🍫🍬

Hi!!! I'm doing good!! How about you? I hope your doing well!! <3

And thank you for the snacks!! I'm on a weight loss program (not diet), and I miss being able to freely have those things.

Sending some to you as well!! 🍓🎂🍬🍿🍨

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

CG Kung Lao w/ Regressor Hcs

🍖 Very exciting CG!!!

🍖 He makes sure to spoil you with affection, whether that’s blowing raspberries on your cheek, or reminding you about how cute/handsome you are!!

🍖 Very good CG with playtime!!! Very fluent too!

🍖 Bigger kids that like running around, playing hopscotch, wrestling? Sign him up!! That sounds like a blast!!

🍖 Little/calming activities, such as building blocks, blowing bubbles, or pattycake? That sounds fun! Do you wanna sit outside on a blankie and play too?

🍖 Very big on getting some outside time, and will take you to his (Raiden’s) small personal garden so you don’t feel too uncomfy being small in public (unless you really don’t want to, he won’t force you)

🍖 He gets very sad if your sad or regress negatively

🍖 His main goal is to cheer you up, even if he has to act like a funky monkey and do a money dance to get you to giggle :(

🍖 Then he’ll cuddle you, put on your favorite cartoon, and get you a whole bucket of your favorite ice cream

🍖 His main mission is to make sure your happy and giggling

🍖 Kung Lao’s strong, and he wants you to know it

🍖 How? Easy! He’ll just carry you everywhere!! :D

🍖 After all, why would you need to walk when your Big Strong Lao is right here? 💪

🍖 This works great if your more of a dependant or clingy regressor!! But if your more of an independant regressor, just tell him and he’ll die down

🍖 I’m not going to make Kung Lao’s entire personality (My Baby’s much more than that) but he’ll make you a food/chore chart!!! Especially if you have difficulties doing these things, both big and little

🍖 ^ And you get a reward at the end of the week!!! :D (and don’t worry about a couple of slip ups effecting your reward, accidents happen sometimes)

🍖 No touching his hat, it’s a big no no

🍖 Well . . . maybe you can touch it

🍖 But he has to put a protecting rubbering on the blades!!! You could get really hurt, and just cause you wanna look cool just like Lao, doesn’t mean you should put your safety will be put on the line

🍖 You can’t throw it either, it’s also a big no no :(

🍖 He’s very good with regressors that use padding!!

🍖 In past games, it’s hinted that the Kung Family is decently big (hyposithis, but still), plus he also has Kung Jin as a nephew/cousin depending on the timeline, so he probably has some brothers/sisters of some sort

🍖 He’ll blow raspberries on your tummy, or jingle keys above you, trying to make sure your not too embarrassed <3

🍖 Kung Lao’s a big competitive, but he’ll always make sure to let you win

🍖 It might hurt his ego a bit (lot), but you look so happy when you run the race!! Or when your car was faster!! 🥺

🍖 He loves arguing with you, especially if you babble, thinks sassy babies are adorable

🍖 Also . . . he’s arguing with a toddler, and he finds the loosing battle highly entertaining

🍖 Favorite CG nicknames are Lao, Lao-Lao, and Papa

🍖 Calls you many nicknames!! Pumpkin, Sweetie, Little One, Aweseome

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

CG Rain w/ Regressor Hcs

💧 Very calm CG

💧 His favorite activity is cuddling with you after a long day

💧 He also likes preforming magic shows though!!

💧 Normally Rain huffs about using his powers for ‘silly’ things

💧 But if his baby wants a water show? . . . How could he say no? They just wanna see how cool their Dada is, obviously!!

💧 He’ll make some water form into little shapes, like stars or fishies swimming by

💧 He becomes very proudful and happy when you giggle and awe, telling him about how awesome he (his magic) is!! 🥺

💧 Your not allowed to touch his staff though, that’s his staff :(

💧 He’s also a bit worried you’ll break it by accident, especially if your tiny tiny or a little ruckus

💧 He’s actually really good with hyper littles!!

💧 He keeps you somewhat in line, chasing after you if your running around, or atleast keeping you close by

💧 He won’t help in your pranks though >:(

💧 In fact, he won’t even save you from the scolding you might get from the person you pranked!! >:O

💧 You wanted to prank them, you’ve gotta have your own consequences :(

💧 ^ . . . He’ll give you candy or something after because he feels bad if you got in trouble . ..  And he’ll probably end up saving you from a big lecture

💧 Your his baby, only he can lecture you >:(

💧 He’s also really good with younger or calmer littles!!!

💧 Hopscotch, tag, and those games can be very fun!!

💧 But he’s also content with cuddling or having you on his lap

💧 He’ll even take you out to the royal gardens and help you watch the little froggies!!!

💧 Outside time is important to him, but he’s also very content staying inside too

💧 He has a really nice bookshelf!! . . . That your not allowed to touch >:\

💧 He likes it organized, and they’re mostly boring magic books

💧 ^ But he’ll get some children books for your!! Whether it’s those baby books, or some simple chapter books (that he’ll read to you, or in his freetime so he can talk to you about it)

💧 Favorite CG nicknames are Dada, Bubba, and Rainy

💧 Guys, I wanna call him Fishy 🥺

💧 I think it’d be a really good nickname for him and all he’d give you as a reaction would be 😑, which totally means he likes it cause he’s not lecturing you!! :D

💧 . . . And your giggles/smiles after calling him that make up for you being mean to him

💧 Favortie nicknames for you are Button, Lovebug, Sweetheart, Little One

💧 ^ Rascal if your more energetic (lovingly of course)

💧 If your okay with it, I can see him playfully calling you a brat (also lovingly, and when you’ve done something naughty but not super naughty)

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

CG Kenshi w/ Regressor Hcs pt 2

❤️ Protective Dada, you’re always within his reach

❤️ And even when your not, he’ll keep a close eye on you

❤️ Again, super good with a lot of ages!

❤️ Middles that want to sit down and watch TV or talk about their favorite band, he’s up for a nice chat (and is really good at treating you your age!!!)

❤️ Bigger kids that want to run around and play chase? He’s gonna make you a leash kid 😮‍💨 (lovingly of course)

❤️ Toddler that wants to make bracelets? He’ll wear them with pride!! And he’s good at tieing the knots at the end!!

❤️ Baby that just wants to cuddle up to him? How about you sit on Dada’s lap while he helps you color your picture?

❤️ Any kind of pet regressor? Well, he can play ug-a-war, or have you lazy on him or his coat!!

❤️ Guys, I dunno about you, but his voice makes me feel really tiny 🥺

❤️ ^ He’d use that to his advantage, softly talking to you on a particularly bad day so you’ll feel smaller faster

❤️ He’s also got a really good ‘Knock that off’ stern voice :(  (Similar to Nightwolf, they can both be really scary when they wanna)

❤️ Not that he purposely scares you!!! He only uses the voice when he really has to, he enverw ants his baby to be scared of him

❤️ If you use padding, and he’s using Sento, he’s very good at it!!!

❤️ He’s trying to learn how to change you without Sento (he’s not the best, but he’s getting good at it!!)

❤️ When he got blinded, he struggled with some activities and watching over you in general, but he also made sure to reassure you that he wanted to watch after you and you shouldn’t feel ashamed being small

❤️ It’s just a process of reworking and figuring some things out

❤️ Yes, he can see with Sento, and he mainly does, but he’s also working on not being hinder on it

❤️ His tattoos are pretty filled in from what it looks like, but if you wanna take a makeup brush and make him your personal canvas, he’ll let you (he finds it cute)

❤️ Kenshi knows how to cook, and he’d make your favorite little meals!! Whether they’re extragevent, or just some dino nuggies he can pop into the stove

❤️ No, you cannot help him, you might get burned and he doesn’t want you injured

❤️ He will let you sit on the stove nearby though!! Maybe you can pass him some seasonings (if you can read them correctly)

❤️ His chuckle when you hand him the wrong one, redirecting you to the right one as he calls you Silly 🥺

❤️ He won’t let you have unlimited candy because he’s mean >:(

❤️ And he doesn’t want your blood sugars to go too high or low, nor does he want to give you a tummy ache

❤️ Other nicknames he likes calling you are Little Lamb, Sweetheart, Tiny, Angel, Bunny

❤️ ^ I’m really set on him calling you Precious 🥺 (it’s his favorite nickname for you)

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

Ugh, I love all these characters so much. 🥺

[arcadekitten]

With the new year on the horizon and 10 completed games under my belt, I thought it might be fun to go through some projects that didn't make the cut and I ended up shelving for one reason or another! (It's only like, 2 of 'em but still)

The first is a game about Theodore and Zapara. While Tricks N Treats was my first finished + published RPGmaker game, I originally started testing things out with RPGM shortly after Cemetery Mary's release. The following game was meant to take place in the CM universe.

It was my first time using RPGMaker & it shows. It was also being made in VXAce, hence why proportions are so different from all my current projects. VXace uses 32x32 tiles whereas MV + above use 48x48. Trying to work within these limitations was a bit tricky for me

The (gif) footage you see above is all that exists of the game now(I didn't even screen record LOL). Back when my old laptop kicked it the files for this game went with it and I never cared to back them up. I don't consider it a hard loss though as by that point I had already moved on to bigger more polished projects and I didn't see myself returning to it any time soon(or at all).

The plot of the game was that Theo woke up in the night to hear Zapara leaving their apartment. When he goes to look for and finds her, she seems to want to avoid going back to the apartment for reasons she won't share. By the end of the game she confesses that she had a really realistic nightmare and she's scared if she goes back it will come true. Theo reassures her that he would never let her nightmare happen in reality, and so the two go back together. In the morning, we see Crowven texting them. They're making plans to go out to a club, when Crowven asks if his cousin can come along--tying it into CM.

I think if I made this game, it would've been cute, and maybe I'll even do something with the premise for a larger game, but I don't see myself trying to start this as a solo project again.

The next game that was shelved from when I was learning Unity & Adventure Creator. Patrons had seen previews it! I started this game as a tool to help me learn the programs, and it got shelved when I felt it was no longer teaching me but instead adding weight to my back.

Unlike the previous game, this is a game I COULD see myself starting again--probably using the same method I'm using for WISHMAKER in RPGM. This game is called "Dreary Elaine", and it's a bit interesting!

(ignore the reference PNG of Elaine here HAHA) This game, like WISHMAKER, is a point-and-click adventure game, where you play as the titular Elaine as she delivers party invitations to her neighbors.

The thing that makes Dreary Elaine interesting is that it is actually an offshoot of my other work! Mary Anta is a character that exists in the fictional world of Noisrev. Dreary Elaine is Mary's favorite childhood book series. A fictional world within a fictional world!

As I said above, this is a game that has the potential to come back one day--I'm just not currently sure when. But exploring the Elaine-verse is something that always appeals to me and who knows! Maybe I'll represent it more in my work going forward.

I think that's all for now? I hope it was fun to read through and I'm excited to have more (finished) games and art for you soon! ❤️

[theangelwithawand]

Because of Good Omens brain rot, I’ve been doing a Ninth/Tenth Doctor rewatch. And I was reminded of something I started to notice when I did my first ever rewatch.

The jokey attitude Rose has in the face of danger is a trait she shares with the Doctor, but it’s not something she picks up from him.

In Aliens of London/ World War III, Harriet chides her for making jokingly says something to the effect of how the Slitheen’s compression field works as a kind of weight loss program. This is the first time it’s ever been called out, but it’s not actually the first time she’s done it.

In the first episode, while the Doctor is explaining the living plastic she makes a wry comment about all of the breast implants coming to life. She’s only known the Doctor for a few hours at this point. It goes completely unremarked on, but it’s there.

She does it in the Empty Child when Jack catches her in his transmat beam. Her voice is literally shaking in this one, both from physical exertion and terror.

The thing is, I think it’s a coping mechanism. I think Rose has learned to bury her fear behind snarky remarks and jokes, one she probably picked up to deal with her life on the estates, to deal with being belittled, to deal with her abusive ex.

The first time I really came to this conclusion was while watching Tooth and Claw for the second time.

During the episode, Ten and Rose have this little bet running to see if she can get Queen Victoria to say her “we are not amused” line. Every time Rose does it, she is giggling.

Until she says it after the werewolf (this is a really strange episode even for DW…) attacks.

After taking a second to be relieved at being alive, her face kind of drops, her eyes widen and glaze over a little bit. The line “I bet you’re not amused” is rushed out of her mouth and significantly quieter than she was a minute ago. The delivery is uncharacteristically monotone until the little emphasis she puts on the end.

She does this weird almost-smile like she’s going to laugh even though she is patently not smiling. She does this small little head shake, her arms are tense.

It’s a really unsettling moment, and it was this performance by Billie Piper is what made me start thinking about this.

Queen Victoria yells at her, and Rose immediately apologizes, won’t even make eye contact with anyone. She curls in and turns away a bit.

This moment always bothered me and it took me a few watches to really articulate why.

Rose is scared.

I didn’t see it immediately because Rose displays fear in so many ways.

When she fears someone she cares about is going to leave her, (usually it’s the Doctor), Rose will lash out. This happens in Father’s Day, School Reunion, and Girl in the Fireplace. (The last one is so justified. She’s way more compassionate than I would’ve been at the end of that episode). She also does this Fear Her (when Nina Sosanya’s character continually refuses to watch her possessed daughter)

Other times, she’s able to turn her fear into action. She does this in her very first episode, the series 1 finale, the Cyberman two-parter, the Satan Pit two-parter, and earlier in Tooth and Claw.

Sometimes, she runs. In Christmas Invasion, she is facing a world-ending threat without the Doctor for the first time. She can’t do the heart of the Tardis trick again without ripping a hole in the universe.

Many times she’ll turn to the Doctor or her mother (who does her best but doesn’t always say the right thing)

But sometimes she makes a snarky comment or tells a joke to convince herself and maybe others that it will be okay.

She uses jokes for this specific reason to cheer up the Doctor in the Satan Pit.

Because Rose is compassionate. To Raffalo, to Gwenyth, to the Empty Child, to Jack. To Cassandra and Flora and Elton. She even tries to comfort Reinette, who is condescending towards her and who the Doctor repeatedly abandons her for because she regrets antagonizing Sarah Jane last episode. (I mean Sarah Jane was kind of mean too despite being a grown woman and Rose only being in her early twenties).

It’s the final confirmation the Doctor needs to realize she’s possessed on New Earth.

She will allow the Doctor to sacrifice her without question to save people and shows compassion to a Dalek both before she knows what it is and after it proves to be capable of changing.

She will drop everything for her mother despite whatever disagreements they have, will bend the universe to keep her father from dying alone.

She will literally sacrifice herself and stare into raw time to save the Doctor.

A lot of people think that Rose’s character in s2 is not as interesting. While that’s true, I think it’s more to do with the lack of interactions between her and Ten that aren’t about their romance. Nine and Rose have interactions that challenge each other’s morality. (Dalek, End of the World, Fathers Day, Unquiet Dead). On the rare occasions that Ten and Rose clash, it’s over jealousy brought on by Rose’s fear of being forgotten and Ten’s fear of committing, or feels like it’s in the shadow of his behavior with Reinette. Ironically, it’s their debate in Fear Her (a not great episode) that is one of the more interesting exchange of views that they have.

I wouldn’t completely agree that Rose loses her compassion in the second season. I think some of her more toxic pre-existing traits are just brought to the surface. And her protectiveness does become selfish.

But series 2 dumps a lot on Rose’s shoulders.

Ten’s weird hot and cold demeanor is probably emotionally taxing too. She has a lot of inferiority issues, probably because of how she’s been treated by her mother and others in her life. She frequently reiterates that she doesn’t matter. You can see how much it means to her when Nine earnestly admits she saved his life in response to her nervous teasing and posturing. And you can see how crushed she is when he calls her stupid in a moment of anger in Father’s day. (An event that is partially his fault because he didn’t explain the rules to Rose until afterwards) He immediately apologizes. (He does have that weird flirtation with Lynda but that is dropped just as abruptly as it starts).

The Tenth Doctor has this deeply frustrating set of episodes in series two where he is utterly awful to watch, and it’s after this that the relationship becomes the shallow, unhealthy, codependent one people remember. (I will expand on this in another post)

But it’s not even necessarily because of the Doctor that it’s hard for her. She says in Parting of the Ways that it wasn’t even the adventures she loved, it was him showing her a better way of life.

The adventures, the death, those are what wear her down the same way they wear down Ten.

She is, at one point, told by literal Satan that she is going to die imminently.

No matter how cheerful an episode begins, the loss always brings something melancholic out of Rose, but also someone desperate to hold onto the person she loves and carve out some sort of hope for a future. Impossible Planet does this really well with the little exchange about getting a mortgage. You can tell both of them find the idea appealing, or would if the Tardis was on call for the occasional weekend trip and weekly visit to Jackie. Because Ten likes Jackie, likes having a family.

Because deep down what these two want is each other and to rest. Not stop, they never could do that entirely. That’s why, I think TenToo works well in Empire of the Wolf (I don’t think it’s handled well in the actual show). Because they are still having new adventures with their daughter, just smaller ones.

So while Rose does have her flaws (selfishness, jealousy, a coping mechanism that is not always in the best taste). But she’s 19, she’s human. She’s allowed to and -as a character in a piece of media- should have flaws. I think they are what make a fundamentally brave and compassionate character feel like a real person. They make her more compelling.

(I want to do a later meta on Mickey, because Rose could’ve handled that better, but I also have issues with early Mickey. And it ties into some other stuff…so later meta.)

[meichenxi]

Hanzi update (+accidental trauma talk)

tw illness, trauma, vomiting, weight loss, recovery. I didn't plan to write about this but because of what happened in the last year I can't really write about how I studied Chinese without talking about it. so. but it's mainly about hanzi lol

I've been learning how to write traditional characters with the vague idea that I'd go and study in Taiwan, and also that if I want to write Classical Chinese or Japanese they're far more useful - but the program I want to go to Taiwan for requires HSK7, which I DO not think I can achieve and have the results of before March. Who knows! Perhaps within me lies untold brilliance and dedication!!

...well, I wouldn't rely on it. (I am also busy with a job, a partner, studying an A-level course to begin tutoring it in September, and writing the second draft of my novel.)

And even if I ended up going to Taiwan with my absolutely fantastic HSK7, there's no way I could handwrite all of those words within a year. If I learn 10 characters a day, that's like 3650 characters in a year, but realistically that will never happen - and you still have to actually remember them.

I also know from my last experience where I learnt a stupid amount of characters very quickly (about 800 in two weeks) that I can technically do it, I have a very large swollen brain, but then the brain, being very large and very swollen, promptly burns out. And leaves me to not do any Chinese again for like two months. So basically - completely pointless, because after those two months of rest I had forgotten most of them anyway. I will not be doing that again.

This time around I have been slowly, very slowly, learning things on Skritter. I have about 400 characters so far. I'm not doing words but doing characters, which is a bit slower, but I figure it'll be more useful in the long run. After I have the first 1000, I'm planning to then systematically go through the HSK and TOCFL lists and check I know how to put characters together and which 'jing' is used in 'yijing' etc.

This approach is only really going to work because I know a lot of vocabulary and can read a lot of stuff already - otherwise I wouldn't recommend to anybody without that backbone of vocabulary to just learn random isolated characters, unless you're masochistic or much harder-core than I am.

As I have said in a lot of posts before, I had a very difficult experience in China last August and have basically taken an entire year off studying because in all honesty I just couldn't bring myself to face the language again. Every time I tried I had this crazy grief and nightmares and stress response. What I went through was so stressful that during those two months in China that I lost seven kilograms, as I couldn't eat much without vomiting it back up due to stress and fear, didn't sleep, and ended up having to leave for Thailand pretty severely malnutritioned - which then made me susceptible to illnesses there and I spent the next two months after with awful health, vomiting and weak and generally sick. Luckily I was with friends and I gained the weight again and my period and digestive system sorted itself out.

And I never expected that a language itself could carry trauma? Like. Nobody died, it wasn't like that, I wasn't abused or assaulted or anything but still...for just under a year, every time I spoke or heard or read Chinese I couldn't help thinking of those two months. Even now it's still hard. I'm finding my way back to it but, to be honest, I didn't expect how hard it would be. I thought I could just - move past it, because I'd already had so many great experiences in China and Taiwan and with Chinese, that they would cancel each other out or at least be aided by the huge amounts of love that the language has shown me. Alas, it was not the case.

Anyway. All of that to say - I have only managed to do about 400 characters in a year, because I essentially gave up studying completely.

Now I've just finished reviewing and re-remembering those 400 characters on Skritter, so I'm ready to start again! I don't know what's changed, I guess just time - I feel more positive, I feel curious and interested about the language again. I don't know. I'm not going to question it too deeply. But for these past two weeks, I've been having a lot of fun :)

I'll update everyone on my progress as I go! Next post - 500.

[scientia-rex]

hiya, saw your weight loss and exercise post and figured you seem to know a lot about this compared to most people and also. doctors. so i wanted to ask about the relationship between weight loss and managing alcoholic fatty liver disease? someone close to me has recently been diagnosed with that, and every medical professional shes ever spoken to in her life has told her that losing weight is the answer to every possible problem, and this liver thing has been no different.

shes quit drinking, obviously, but i want to clarify that she and the doctors arent talking about her diet, or her nutritional intake, they are talking about the number of kilos on her body. physical fatness. shes been getting these messages about her body for years and years, but she knows that self esteem is important so the fact that shes been "medically" ordered to loose weight has been the excuse she needs to pretty obviously just hate that shes fat. recently she mentioned shes considering getting one of those gastro surgeries and i felt this lance of dread go through me. im really worried that medical fatphobia is going to end up seriously hurting her.

so like. yeah is weight (specifically weight, not diet) actually how fatty liver is managed? are these doctors going to fuck her up for the rest of her life? thanks for reading

Personally, I think that's a shitty fucking way to approach managing fatty liver. If you try to work around your body's real needs, you're going to get fucked up. Exercise and eating plants is probably a better recommendation than "weight loss" in almost every imaginable scenario, because one of those options is achievable and has demonstrated health benefits and the other is a pipe dream for at least 98% of patients (based on weight loss program failure rates).

[task800]

the game confirms that connor is capable of accessing the memories of previously destroyed shells - it’s part of his whole adapting/learning algorithm shtick. he learns from the experiences of his predecessors, and those experiences include the events leading up to that body’s destruction. it’s just a source of information while he’s a machine - it’s just data to work with -

- but the gravestones in the garden, the threat-promise of deactivation if he fails to please his creators, the constant assessment and micromanagement from Amanda, and through Amanda, from CL -

- all of that, combined with the loss of mission directive post-deviancy, the sudden sledgehammer of emotions, the fact that he might remember 50 deaths (!!!!!!) …

i really, really crave a fic where the weight of it all settles in like an anchor and locks him in place. he’s deviant and free from the constraints of his old programming, but he’s died 50 times over and all he’s ever known is that his continued existence is contingent on his ability to please others, to complete his mission objective. the loss of a directive, the loss of the authority figure that once judged whether he’d earned the right to live another day … all of that, combined with the newfound ability to experience fear, terror, grief, sorrow, shame - i want a fic where this all drives a lead pipe through his heart and fixes him in place.

he just sits on the floor next to the couch with his hands tangled in sumo’s fur, blank stare boring a hole through hank’s floor, while hank notes the resemblance between connor and some of the trauma survivors he’s interacted with over the course of his career. living is awful and dying is terrifying and connor misses the simplicity of being a machine that killed for the gratification of others, and it disgusts him, and he doesn’t know what to do. a learning ai, in a house where a father plays russian roulette in the hopes of seeing his son