#I wasn't sure of which quote I was going to add because I've far too many of them

[jokerownsmysoul]

a place to shelter

Summary: Arthur can tell that you need some comfort when you come home after a long day. He makes space for you on his lap, and makes sure to give you all of it.

Warnings: reader is a little down, but nothing too angsty.

Words: 4700

Notes: you ever get this vital need to lay your head on Arthur's lap? As much as I love daydreaming & writing about him laying his head on reader's lap, I really wish I could do the same with him. This piece is just the result of this need. ❤︎ I'm not sure if I expressed fully what it means to me, but I tried. More often than not meaningful things require simple words.

The thunderstorm that had suddenly burst during the afternoon seemed to put an end to the mild days that until then had warned of the arrival of autumn, coming and going between a lukewarm afternoon stroll and a crispy night like little messengers, carrying the announcement that much colder days were finally here.

Once you left work and stepped out on the sidewalk you were surprised to see that the rain had incessantly dripped down on the spiced, bright hues of autumn until they had faded away into a dark shade of grey. The sparkling sky that had refreshed the afternoons throughout October now was seasoned with ash colored, cotton-candied clouds, polka-dotting the skyline far beyond the horizon. A anthracite toned atmosphere enveloped you, as unexpected as was surreal, and very much welcomed by those like you who loved this kind of wheather.

You should bring the umbrella with you, Arthur had told you in the morning as he kissed you have-a-nice-day on the threshold. It’s cloudy outside. I think the sky wants to rain today.

Your heart softened at the memory of it. He was right, after all. He was always right. You protected yourself from the rain under the balcony of your workplace building and lifted your eyes toward the sky, a private smile on your lips as you welcomed the gift this unexpected thunderstorm carried.

The uncontrollable enthusiasm that climbed up the surface of your heart whenever it rained tried to come out by extension, to cleanse your soul of the weariness settled within you like dust. But it had been an exhausting day, and as much as the rain made you happy, this time the coolness in the air wasn’t enough to light up your spirit.

You were cold, and the grey hue that covered the vastness of the sky was reminding you of the same hue of Arthur’s grey sweater. It was standing there above you, coating everything in cloudiness, recalling the warm, woolly embraces of your dear beloved. For a moment, as you kept your eyes fixed on the grey sky, you almost felt like you really were wrapped in one of his embraces. But the grey hue kept standing there above you, not reshaping into the curve of his arms fondled around you, and you kept standing there all alone and without him. Soon, you were met with a sense of lack seeping within you that carried his name. You missed Arthur, and the stormy shaded sky even more now was making you crave for the warmth and affection of him, who still seemed too far away from where you were.

When there are clouds in the sky, you'll get by If you smile through your fear and sorrow Smile And maybe tomorrow You'll see the sun come shining through For you

Suddenly you recalled those lines of that one song that used to keep you and Arthur grounded to your love and the hope to find serenity again whenever bad days occured; the lines that most represented what Arthur and his love meant to you.

You smiled to the sentimental parallelism of the situation, feeling almost as if Arthur was bringing you comfort from afar and through music, which wasn’t that far nor different from what he did every day, after all.

“Hello November,” you whispered up above you.

You held firmly your black umbrella over your head, clutching your fingers around the collar of your coat to protect you from the gusts of wind, and sped up pace along the much blessed way back home, eager to see the sun of your life shine through for you again.

You could see the grey horizon following along as you took yet another step. You felt like as if Arthur was walking with and up above you, keeping an eye on you, as you traveled across the city in the rain.

Raindrops dripped down along the contours of the black umbrella and pooled at your feet, a stained trail of rainwater on the checkered floor trailing behind your footsteps like a watered-down shadow when you hurried yourself through the doorway of your building that would lead you to your special darling man. You shook the umbrella from the extra droplets, wiggled your frozen legs, rubbed your palms together in the attempt to warm them up while your body adjusted to the barely-warmer ambient of the lobby. You hadn’t gotten to your apartment yet, but Arthur was getting closer, and this was enough.

But first, you briefly detoured on your path and instead of reaching the elevator you headed to the mailbox to check if the California postcards you and Arthur were eagerly waiting for had been delivered. You’ve fallen in love with his dreamy inclination to collect postcards of places he had never been in but dreamed of. The fondness and care that Arthur put in this longing of his soul almost made you want to cry for how sweet and genuine collecting those postcards was, for what it meant to him. There was so much purity of soul in it. In him. You were happy that upon your love ever growing over time, you’d become an essential part of that, too.

You loved collecting them together now, hanging them up above your nightstands as he already liked to do, on the fridge, tucked in a small box or wallpapered in those perfect spots of your apartment that would’ve granted you to have them always on sight. You couldn’t wait to take photographs of those wonderful beaches yourself and buy new postcards in places you would’ve visited together, to decorate photobooks and the apartment with your own personal snapshots carrying your unique touch and unforgettable memories throughout the journey of your shared life. It was nice to daydream with him, to support his passions and nurture his life dream of visiting California with his one and only person someday.

A meek sigh left you when you saw the metal interior completely empty. You shrugged, the squeaking noise of rusty metal echoing in the room as you turned your keys and closed the mailbox before turning back to your path.

The sight of your door was like a mirage in the desert once you left the elevator. The lingering coziness of the apartment was evident as soon as you opened the door, a real treat for your numb body and more numb heart. You placed your keys on their usual spot, left the umbrella to dry up on its stand. You took off your coat, and a sense of peace and home enveloped you when you saw Arthur’s tan jacket already hanging on the coat rack. He'd had a day off, you knew he was at home. But you could feel the intense smell of his presence lingering in the air, hovering soulprints of cotton and smoke, and that was what really reassured you that he was there.

It amazed you how just the mere feeling of finding yourself at home brought you instant relief. Your safe home, and the presence of Arthur anchored there even when the apartment was empty, acted as a nest of protection shielding you and holding out anything that could hurt you from the outside; a white cloth that wiped away anything unknown from your soul, even in the most distant or hard to reach corners. Everything external soon felt far, far away from you, saved from the thunderstorm scoring beyond the windows.

“Sweet heart, I’m home,” you called out softly. A grin flashed through your lips when you heard no answer, guessing already in what he was absorbed as you secured your coat close to his jacket. You could easily envision his eyes lost somewhere else, focused on his thoughts and funny observations. Before going to find him you stalled on your track and took a minute to lay a gentle caress full of fondness along the tan fabric of the big hoodie.

As you suspected, it was a half-written page of his journal what was keeping him so absorbed. But you were surprised to notice that rather than sitting in his writing corner he had gotten comfortable on the couch, the lamplight turned off despite him sitting right below it, the journal carefully resting on his knees clad in baby blue.

A smile filled your cheeks at the chance of seeing him again after a tiring day. His eyes were still glued down to the page when you walked behind the couch and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. A joyful whimper caused his upper body to tremble in delight while your hands landed to his front, making him grow conscious of your presence.

“Hi,” you coaxed into his ear, nose nudging his sideburn before you planted a soundly kiss to his cheek. He chuckled at the «mwah» echoing from your lips to within the living room, your enthusiasm and the longed comfort of your embrace bringing him to turn his focus on you.

He put his ballpoint pen down, angled his head towards you and gazed at you with clear relief. “Hi,” he answered back. “You're here.”

You nodded and nestled his face, squeezing your arms around him a little tighter. “I'm here.”

“Did the rain catch you?”

“No, your umbrella kept me safe all the way home,” you cooed. “But I need to warm up and get into something more comfortable.”

He held your hands, carrying them to his lips to kiss your freezing knuckles. “I’m glad. I was getting worried.”

“I was in good hands. I felt you with me the whole time,” you said. A thought dawned on you. “I checked the mailbox, still nothing.”

“The postcards want to make themselves wait. I get it,” he sighed, then you heard a low giggle leaving his lips. “That’s what dreams do.”

“I think you’re right.”

You perched further over the back of the couch where the green blanket was resting to hold his cheek, pulling his face toward you as you sought the connection of his lips you couldn’t wait any longer to taste. He leaned back in, the pliant warmth of his lips meeting the numbness of yours. You let his mouth guide the kiss as you molded to his smooth moves, coating your mouth like a blanket, keeping your lips warm with the warmth of his affection seeping in and the longing to see you that had grown inside him throughout the day. You reluctantly pulled apart. “I’m gonna go change, don’t go anywhere.”

He chuckled. “I won’t, ma’am.”

You kissed his cheek just one more time and rushed to the bathroom for a short refreshment of shivering limbs. You followed the next step of self care in the bedroom, where you opened one of Arthur's drawers to borrow his wooly, white-cream cardigan you've knitted for him and a pair of his pajamas pants. You paused for a second to sniff the irresistible hints of Arthur's scent still lingering in between each stitch, closing your eyes before pulling the cardigan over your shoulders and tying the knot of his pants firmly around your waistline to keep them from falling. You looked funny in them and you loved them even more for that. After all, fun was the sentiment that filled your relationship with Arthur, your laughter blossoming from any corner of your loving any time of the day. The grasp of Arthur’s clothes across your skin was keeping you warm and dizzy enough to yearn to come back to him and reconnect with the direct comfort of his body.

When you stepped back in the living room the bluish atmosphere of the approaching dusk had settled in, a opaque haze filling the living room coming from the storm outside the windows. The apartment was made even darker by the presence of the thunderstorm that still continued its persistent ascend over Gotham City and prevented the beans of sunlight to step in. Arthur was waiting for you on the couch, lamplight strangely still turned off despite getting dark soon, journal still opened on his knees and ballpoint pen flowing through words, through worlds.

He raised his eyes and gave you an inviting smile as a request to go to him as soon as he heard the sound of your bare feet on the floor, twinkling in the contentment to see you in your bedtime attire, which meant he could finally have you all for himself. He didn't have to ask you twice. He knew that your need to wear his own clothes intensified when you didn't feel at your best and needed just that extra touch of comfort only he could provide, so he made sure to keep an eye on you as the evening flowed by.

“Why won’t you turn on the lamp? It’s getting dark,” you wondered.

He snorted. “It’s cozier that way.”

“Yeah,” you considered, observing the natural hints the rainlight gave your home, as romantic as candlelight. “I like it better that way, too.”

You stroked his hair for a quick shared moment of tenderness to catch up the mutual lack for each other as you passed him by before heading to the kitchen. “I’m making some tea, want some?”

“Sure. Thank you.” You heard behind your shoulders.

You filled the tea kettle to the brim, then turned on the stove. Your favorite mugs were already ready to use, resting on the sink upside down where you had left them the night before to dry. So instead of getting them ready you fished for two different teabags of your and Arthur’s favorite tea and put them in each correspective mug. You loved to prepare meals for him, especially the hot ones that would granted his soul some relief and restore his tummy. You really loved to give him a whole lot of a little bit of warmth. With the rain thundering in the distance, a hot tea was exactly what you both needed to conquer the colder evening.

The preparation phase was as cherished as the moment when he would take a sip and the hot liquid in his throat would cause satisfaction in his dimpled smile and gratefulness in his gaze as he looked at you. You relished in every little step of the path of taking care of him. Knowing what mug he adored and what he liked, making sure to buy the right ingredients at the grocery store, adding in his mug the flavour of honey he preferred most. He drank black coffee but liked a generous teaspoon of honey in hot drinks, either tea or infusions.

One of the reasons that made this brand of tea your favorite, were the short quotes written on the square sheet of paper at the extremity of each teabag. Something that you cherished more than any fortune cookie. You and Arthur loved to undisclose them, read them together every time you made tea and collect them along with the postcards. You kept them safely in a wooden box or pressed in a specific journal that you shared when a quote spoke intimately to your hearts just a little bit louder. You did not peek as you waited for the tea kettle to sing. You wanted to read them with him.

Instead, you took a look at the kitchen window to your left. Beyond it, the building contours in front of you looked undefinable, covered by a thick cloak of rain that was still falling down fiercely at a steady pace, tapping on the glass like small pebbles thrown by a lover standing on the street below in search of the attention of his damsel, ready to serenade and hopefully courtship her until a unforgettable kiss would occur across the balcony. You took a mental note to dig out a heavy blanket from the closet after dinner in case you woudl’ve needed it overnight.

You were happy to go back to your own personal damoiseau when the tea was finally ready.

“Here you go,” you said, handing out his pink steaming mug to him once you walked back on the living room. “Be careful, it’s very hot.”

Ballpoint pen and journal were put aside on the armrest before he took it with both hands and a soft smile.

He made space for you next to him as you kicked off your slippers and curled up on the couch into the cozy nook his side provided, as close to him as you could. You both took a sip. You tried to swallow along with the tea also your exhaustion, the hot mug warming up the aching spots of your fingers wrapped around it. He turned his focus toward you once the hot mug left his lips; one of his hands instinctively drifted to your ankles, fingers grazing down over your feet for fleeting caresses.

“Your feet are cold,” he considered. Quickly, he made sure to rub his fingers across your toes to warm them up. His hand felt particularly heated after he'd held the mug. The delicate warmth of it, of his weathered palm on you, made you shiver even more so than any thunderstom ever could.

“Guess I’ll need to steal your socks again,” you said with a small smile. You watched him as he grinned, then carried your leg across his lap and started kneading your skin with thoughtfulness. His movements distilled confidence, proof that he knew exactly how to take the situation in hand, how to touch you. Your feet tended to freeze a lot during winter; whether it was through his caresses, his feet clad in white socks cupping your own under the covers overnight to warm them up or through a stolen pair for you to wear, Arthur would always take care of the matter.

You melted into his care and brought a hand to his bedhead, combing back the messy locks the way you bet he’d repeated countless times over the day. His eyelashes fluttered in bliss for a second, your eyes gazed into one another, rejoining with the rediscovery of each other after a long day. “I love coming back from work and finding you already home, waiting for me,” you told him. Coming home and seeing him there felt like to get into bed and find the bedsheets already warmed up for you by someone who longed your return. “I thought about you all day.”

“Me too.” His attempt of drawing himself closer was unsuccessful. With hot mugs in hand it was near impossible to deepen your closeness without burning each other. He opted for slipping his hand under your pijama to drag deeper, elongated brushes along your calf, the goosebumps in your belly not to be missed. “I heard this song on the radio that I wanted to dance with you.”

“Really? I would’ve love to hear it,” you huffed. You lowered one hand onto his, halting his traveling on you to trace the swollen veins running across the back of his hand, your fingertips gently grazing the beloved dimple at the base of his thumb as you sought for his contact. “Would you sing it to me now?”

His eyes sparkled in an instant. You clung to the sleeve of the brown cardigan he was wearing, his white shirt peeking out from underneath it, hoping he would never let you go as he nodded enthusiastically and started to hum for you the beats he could remember by memory. Arthur had in him this innate nature of always remembering any melody he came across during the day. There was always a song stuck in his head, unfurling and ready to come out, either heard on the radio or a new one created in his mind. More often than not, you would catch him swing or whistle to it to express himself freely; with you, or alone unaware of you gazing at him from afar.

You closed your eyes and listened to the sweetness of his voice, letting him be the fulcrum of everything around you. His voice was your favorite song.

Minutes rolled by, and Arthur witnessed your alertness faltering, your shoulders sinking into his cardigan on you, how you were growing silent as you took another sip and your focus started to drift off to the company of the music inside him. He leaned in and paused the tune to kiss your forehead. “Is everything alright?” He asked, a question he already knew the answer of.

“I think I’m just very tired,” you said. “Nothing that being with you can’t fix.”

He understood what you were trying to say and gave you a tender, sympathetic smile. Days like this that he himself had gone through were plenty. The level of fatigue would increase to the point of affecting his heart even more so than his body, and he wished to return home to loving arms ready to hold his fallen tears and comfort him into relaxation.

“Come here.” His voice was inviting when he gestured you to come closer and carefully put his mug next to the lamp on the small table beside him, then freed your mug from your grip that he put on the coffee table in front of you. You didn’t oppose, and let Arthur guide you to turn onto your side so that you could lay your head on his lap. He showed you how much you really, really needed this.

He was warm and comfortable as he cradled you safely onto him. You didn’t waste time and sank into his hold with a soft hum as you adjusted to the new position, legs curled on the couch and your head resting on his lap. The pads of his fingers were gentle and considerate when he began to stroke your hair. He always got you. “Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really,” you nuzzled his lap, the fabric of his baby blue pants soft under your cheek. You couldn’t help yourself but caress the outline of his pretty knee with your pads in tender circles. “I want to listen to your voice.”

“Okay,” he said softly.

He began to hum again the melody left imprinted inside him since morning, the balmy timbre of his voice echoing and intermingling with the pitter-patter of the rain in the background. His voice soon lulled you into a state of peacefulness.

As you listened to him, you thought about how much his voice and the comfort of him were more soothing than any hot cup of tea, how easily he managed to restore your inner numbness with the warmth of his good heart.

He seeped into you, warmed you from the inside like the first sip of hot coffee that brought relief down your throat, a handmade cardigan shielding the shivers running along your back. Arthur was like holding a hot mug during winter with freezing hands and finding relief in its heat, a glow cleansing all your senses. You were so grateful to him for loving you that way. For being there with you, always so present, for walking in the space of your distress and following you on its road wherever you needed to go until you would feel better, without you having to ask him.

As he sang for you, his fingers kept stroking your hair all along, following a soothing pattern that spoke of how much he cared for you. There was so much strenght that his hands managed to stir within you.

Your eyelids soon started to grow heavy, accompanied by his soporific humming. Although your distress remained there, you could feel it stepping aside a little to welcome something new, something that felt a lot like solace.

You wanted to give in to this much-needed slumber, but before you could your eye fell on your mug resting on the coffee table in front of you. The papered extremity of the teabag was hanging from the mug in a strategic way that allowed you to read the quote written on it.

“Let your heart guide you,” you recited by default over his humming.

“Mhm?”

“What the daily quote in my teabag reads today. Let your heart guide you,” you repeated. You turned onto your back, locked your eyes with his when his face came into your view. “I guess I did. It guided me to you.”

Your heart lept when his gaze brimmed with tenderness. “I’m glad you did,” he said with a relieved smile, thumb tucking a stray lock behind your ear. “I'm glad that your heart knew my steps,” he added with a more serious tone.

You both knew what the other was thinking as your eyes soaked into one another; thoughts of how grateful you were that your hearts had known how to find each other.

Your hearts would always be guided to the other half.

He marveled at you from above, corners of his eyes crinkled irresistibly followed along your features, and you felt again fondled in his embrace. This time, thank God, you really were. “It's a special quote. We should put it on the journal.”

A lovesick, sleepy smile blossomed on your face, filled with the blessing of him being yours. You nodded. “Yes. Let's put it there.”

He held your cheek like the most precious little thing and leaned down, enveloping your lips into a thoughtful kiss. His hair tickled your face; a sweet-smelling, brown kind of curtains to cut off the world around you. His honeyed tongue tasted sweet as he swiped it in between your lips to pull your own into a flavored embrace, making you sigh for the reverence he poured inside your soul.

Ever-growing green eyes gaped at you when he pulled away, soft curls whispered along his cheekbones and hung towards you as though they wanted to reach you again, the extremely squishy skin under his chin begging for your nibbling. His wrinkles looked so pretty. You lifted your hand up and carried it on his face, caressing with your pads the deep hollow carved onto his cheek that you knew would expand and turn into a dimple whenever he smiled. It didn’t take long. The corners of his mouth bent upwards and just as you thought there it was, that irresistible dimple coming to life under your fingertip. He was ravishing.

“I thought thunderstorms were the most beautiful thing this world could ever give me, but then I saw you,” you declared as a soft-spoken poem, completely enamored of all that he was. You yawned and your eyes barely managed to stay open.

Arthur ducked his chin, a blushy giggle before your sweetness. He could tell it had become difficult for you to resist the drowsiness that was pressing on your eyelids. “You need to sleep,” he encouraged you gently.

With a sigh, you turned onto your side so that you could face him and snuggled comfortably onto his lap. You laid a chaste kiss on his tummy that made him giggle as you nuzzled closer into the cocoon that was him, burying your face in the fabric of his brown cardigan. His smell made you dizzy. He took the green blanket resting on the back of the couch and draped it over your shoulders.

Everything was warm around you; his body present for you, his voice, the green blanket that smelled of him. There was nothing you couldn’t overcome if he was there.

“You’re better than any cup of tea on a rainy day, Arth,” you mumbled at last as you closed your eyes, unable to stay awake much longer.

“Sleep, my darling, sleep well,” he said in hushed whispers. “I’ll make you a nice dinner when you’ll wake up. I'll sing over your dreams for as long as you need.”

You let tiredness take over, lulled by the phantom of his words into a drowsy haze. Arthur started humming the tune for you again. You had no doubt that at some point during the evening you would've danced to this tune together as he’d wished to do, over dinner or barefoot before getting into bed. 

You surrendered to a peaceful slumber, feeling safe and protected in the cozy place that was his lap, where you could always find some rest, healing, and that was meant to be only yours till the very end. You would always find a place in him to shelter yourself from any rainy mood.

*****

No other love can warm my heart Now that I've known the comfort of your arms No other love, let no other love Know the wonder of your spell

― no other love. ♡

•••••

tag list: @arthurflecksgirl @arthur-flecks-lovely-smile @sweet-nothings04 @flowerglitterwoman @forever-fleck​ @ajokeformur-ray​

[gonzo-rella]

The Benevolent Girlfriend | Kim Pine (ft. Wallace Wells)

MASTERLIST | AO3 | KO-FI

Relationship(s): Kim Pine x sick!gn!reader (romantic), Wallace Wells x sick!gn!reader (implied romantic)

Summary: Your roommate Wallace is repulsed by your cold, so he gets your girlfriend Kim to come over and take care of you.

Warnings: You're gross and sick, sorry. (Let me know if I need to add any)

Word count: 0.8k

(A/N: I finally rewatched Scott Pilgrim vs. the World, because I wanted to watch it before I watch the anime (haven't seen it yet, but once I have I'll make a post and add it to my fandom list), and damn I'm in love with Kim. I've been enjoying writing these sick fics whilst I recover from the common cold, so I figured I'd try writing something about Kim, and I was motivated to write something that wasn't just headcanons, which I've already done with the Yellowjackets ladies, Abed and Annie from Community and Charlie, Todd and Neil from Dead Poets Society. This is my first Scott Pilgrim fic, so hopefully it's alright! I tried to capture the spirit and tone of the movie and characters. I'd like to write more for both Kim and Wallace specifically. Maybe I'm delirious from being sick but I'd love to write a fic where the reader is the S/O of both Kim and Wallace to indulge myself because I'm in love with them both.)

A mattress on the floor in a very cold country surely couldn’t have been the best place to recover from a cold- an idiot could tell you that. Wallace had very kindly made you soup and brought you countless glasses of water, but he had hauled his chair as far away from you and the bed as he could manage in the small apartment because, to quote him, you were ‘repulsive and contagious, no offence’. He had been very gracious in letting you pick out what daytime TV crap you wanted to watch.

It reached the late afternoon when there was a knock at the door, and, with a huff, Wallace got up to get it, leaving you to stare absently at the TV through the mist of your mild headache and clogged ears. Your neck was beginning to ache from craning it to look up at the screen.

“Kimberly. You’re here. What took you so long?”

“Nice to see you too, Wallace. Are they awake?”

Wallace cast a glance in your direction and tilted his head; he then looked back at Kim.

“Well, the lights are on, but it doesn’t look like anybody’s home.”

He punctuated the sentence with a shrug.

“Kim?” you said finally, voice hoarse and nasal from your sore throat and blocked nose respectively. 

Kim peered at you over Wallace's shoulder then barged past him. She stood at the foot of your ‘bed’.

“What are you doing here?” you mumbled. “You didn’t have to come.”

“Wallace texted me that you’re sick.”

Wallace left the door ajar, prompting you to wrap your blanket tighter around you. He reached over to grab his coat and slid his arms into it, then stood beside Kim.

“I’m going out with Other Scott, and I thought it’d be cruel to leave you alone, so I told your very benevolent girlfriend-” Kim rolled her eyes as Wallace indicated to her with a nod. “That you were sick and that she might wanna come over and take care of you in your equally benevolent roommate’s stead.”

“Okay. Thanks, Wa-”

You were interrupted by a sneeze. It was so sudden that you made the split-second decision to cover it with your hands. When you peeled it away, droplets of snot coated your palms.

You groaned.

Wallace scrunched up his nose.

“That’s disgusting,” Kim commented monotonously. 

“I’m sorry,” you muttered. “I’ve been told.”

“And, with that,” Wallace said, stepping over to the door and swinging it open. “I’ll leave you kids to it. Good luck, Kim. And, I hope you feel better soon, dear.”

“Thanks, Wallace,” you mumbled.

“Fuck off, Wallace,” Kim said dryly, in unison with you.

He waved at you both then closed the door. There was a moment of silence in which you and Kim just stared at one another. Your snot-covered hands were still held out in front of you.

“So, you’re sick, huh?”

“Yep.”

“Are you going to clean that up?”

You stared at her blankly, before realising what she meant.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry.”

You went to reach for your box of tissues before you realised that they were on the kitchen counter after Wallace had used a few to shield his hands from direct contact with your glass of water. Kim’s gaze followed yours, but her attention returned to you when she noticed that you were readying yourself to get up.

“One sec. I’ll get them for you.”

You relaxed as Kim made the very short journey to the kitchen counter and knelt down to put the box next to you. She yanked a few tissues from the box before placing them in your hands, careful not to touch your snot.

“Thanks, Kim.”

“No problem.”

She stayed kneeling down beside you, watching as you cleared up your hands. There was a look of contemplation on her face.

“You need anything else?”

You glanced up at her and smiled.

“No, thanks.”

“Alright.”

She climbed over you and took a seat beside you- shoulder-to-shoulder- on the mattress. You looked at her incredulously.

“Are you sure you wanna get so close? Wallace hasn’t come near me all day.”

She folded her arms.

“I don’t care.”

“But, I’m disgusting.”

Kim smirked so faintly that anyone who didn’t know her wouldn’t have registered that it was there.

“I wouldn’t be your ‘benevolent girlfriend’ if that bothered me.”

You chuckled and rested your head on her shoulder, and Kim rested her head on yours.

“Holy shit, you’re hot,” she stated.

“Thanks.”

“I meant you have an alarming fever.”

“Oh. Right.”

There was a pause, and Kim huffed.

“Fine. You’re the other kind of hot, too.”

“Thanks, Kim, that’s very-”

You broke into a series of coughs and doubled over. You covered your mouth with the inside of your elbow. Kim rubbed your back soothingly. Once again, the faintest of smiles tugged at her lips.

“Sorry,” you groaned. “That wasn't very hot.”

“Maybe not,” she said. She rested her hand on your shoulder and pulled you closer, once again resting her head on yours. “But, I love you anyway.”

[thebraingremlinsaremad]

Daily Blog #6: August 13, 2021

Okay, okay, I know it's a couples days later, but I can assure you that I did not forget; I purposefully, and kinda without a better option, didn't post on Friday, and you'll see why.

So the day started off pretty regularly: I got up, ate breakfast, got a shower, and then sat around playing games and watching YouTube for a bit.

That was until my friend showed up at my house...

He called me and said to come outside, so I did.

It wasn't long until I got into his car, and we started driving.

I definitely should have been more anxious or nervous heading out, but for some reason, I just sat there with my head absentmindedly poking out the window, not really thinking about it.

I really wish I had grasped the situation a little better.

We got down there after an hour and a half of driving and we parked a bit away because there were so many people there, so many people there, in fact, that we just got some food until it calmed down again.

It was gonna be a great fucking concert.

Hella Mega Tour 2021, originally supposed to be Hella Mega Tour 2020, but postponed for obvious reasons.

We shopped for a tiny bit beforehand, not buying anything, and then headed over to the stadium 45 minutes before the concert was set to start. We were let in about 10 minutes later, and we filled our contraband water bottles that we managed to hide on the way in.

We sat there for a bit, me just listening to music on my Redmi Buds 3 pro.

I love these things.

Pretty soon the music started, and it was The Interrupters; everyone was feeling pretty lazy for this bit.

It's not like they were bad or anything, they were actually pretty good, but I guess everyone was just getting situated and didn't wanna bother using up all of their energy lol.

So The Interrupters' set is up, and they tear down the stage and reset it. Before too terribly long, Weezer starts up, and there's a lot bigger reaction from the crowd than there was before: people knew the songs, like Africa, Buddy Holly, Beverly Hills, and Feels Like Summer to name a few.

I was getting into it a bit, I knew a good few of the songs, I was moving along, I sang a bit, took some video.

What's cool is that I could feel myself moving along the scale, like going from no excitement while no one was playing, then tapping my foot and grooving to The Interrupters.

When Weezer first came on, I was just sitting there like, "alright, this is good shit." Towards the end, I was quietly singing Buddy Holly, their last song for the night.

I say quietly because there was a lot more loudness to come.

I should add that, up until this point, the music had been kinda unbearably loud, the highs really piercing and hitting hard.

Additionally, up until this point, I had been trying my best to document the concert with videos and audio recordings; it wasn't so much about enjoying the concert, for I've always been taught just to record stuff and not worry about the concert.

I don't think I've ever really enjoyed any of the concerts I've ever been to; I was there, but I wasn't. I didn't really know too many of the songs, and I had only listened to the artists in passing, not to mention the fact that my mother had been at every other concert I've been to, which is stifling in itself. I really can't enjoy anything when she's around.

But here we were; it was starting to get dark, and Fall out Boy was coming onstage. The crowd was getting into it with Weezer, and it was time for Fall Out Boy. The energy here had far exceeded both Weezer and The Interrupters, and this went for me as well.

I was sitting there, singing along and still occasionally recording, but I didn't have my phone out too much. I started to dance in my seat with every song, for I knew almost every one: Sugar, We're Going Down, Centuries, My Songs Know What You Did in the Dark, Grand Theft Autumn/Where is Your Boy, The Last of the Real Ones, Save Rock And Roll, and Dance, Dance being a few.

Throughout this set, everyone was singing along, but the real fun had yet to begin; the scent of smoke from the flames and fireworks finding its way through the crowd, the music now strong instead of piercing, a sense of unity between everyone in this packed stadium, between people of all walks of life: men, women, children, transgender, cisgender, non-binary, gay, straight, lesbian, ace, black, white, Asian, Mexican, young, old, middle-aged, and everything in between and outside... It didn't matter who you were or where you came from; you were at a fucking party, and everyone was gonna fuck it up once the main act came on stage.

Meanwhile, everyone was more than happy to celebrate with Fall Out Boy and some of their greatest and most memorable tracks.

Part way through Fall Out Boy's set, I decided to get off of my ass and join the growing number of audience members who were really getting into the groove and feeling the music.

It was so close to becoming an explosion of energy once Fall Out Boy was about to leave the stage.

After they left, the set was torn down once again and set up for Green Day.

Their was a low mix of music playing through the speakers all the while things were being set up. Once the stage was set, the music continued for a bit, but was then cut and replaced with a voice and lyrics that everyone knew immediately.

"Is this the real life. Is this just fantasy."

The crowd sings along to every word.

"Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality."

Freddie's voice poured out into the crowd, and the crowd sang them right back.

"Open your eyes, look up to the skies and see"

The song continued, and the whole crowd sang to the very end.

This really goes to show how impactful some people and groups can be on our lives... Although no one at the show was connected to Queen or Freddie Mercury, everyone who came to see these 4 bands still knew this great group.

Once the song was over, a mix of some of the most famous rock anthems began to play:

"We will, we will rock you"

"I love rock and roll"

"Hey, Ho, let's go"

A glorious piece all lead up to the 4 running onstage, Billie Joe Armstrong, Jason White, Mike Dirnt, and Tre Cool, joined now by 2 new members, Jason Freese and Kevin Preston.

All at once, it was an explosion of strong and passionate guitar jamming, soon followed by the drums and vocals of American Idiot. All at once, the crowd was rocking along with bopping heads, stomping feet, and swaying bodies. I only had my phone out to record for a short moment before I put it away and scarcely removed it from my pants for the rest of the concert.

I couldn't help but feel cocky, as a bi/pansexual (idk which one lmao), being allowed to sing the line,

"Well maybe I'm the faggot America"

I was like, "You straight bastards better not be singing that line 🤣"

It was absolutely incredible; the crowd cheered passionately and wholeheartedly at the end of every song and solo, after every quote from the band.

The coolest part about the concert was the fact that everyone just lost themselves in the music, as well as that everyone, without hesitation, followed what Billie Joe said. He says jump? WE FUCKING JUMPED. He tells us to scream? We. Fucking. Screamed. And when he wanted us to sing, we sang. I mean, okay, we were singing the whole time xD. I'm sure we would've sang if he told us to and we weren't already doing so lmao. What he said was our law, and we were doing our jobs as the dutiful citizens of Suburbia by following those laws.

It really is hard to express the level of pure energy at this gathering, especially when it radiates from every point in the packed stadium.

I screamed so loud and hard, and sang so long and passionately, that my voice started to go. But. Guess. What.

When you're at a place like this, no matter what, you just have this insatiable urge to keep going no matter what. When my arm got tired of throwing my fist in the air, I kept fucking going and even used the other arm too.

It's such a strange feeling when you feel like you're about to give out, like your voice is gonna break, or you're gonna collapse from dehydration and exhaustion, but you find around you the strength and power to keep on going, no matter how quickly your vocal health deteriorates.

Ask my friend, I couldn't speak properly after that shit xD. He even threatened to send a video of me talking to my choral teacher, who honestly would have been mad at me lmao.

Meanwhile, Green Day is playing some of their greatest hits, old and new alike, and I knew every single fucking one of them. I sang every song, and only took a break between 2 of them to down my whole bottle of contraband water in 3 seconds flat.

At one point, the band stopped playing, and Billie spoke into the microphone.

"Get your pretty lights out. I wanna see the pretty lights."

Everyone got their phones out and turned the torches on, as per his command.

"Turn the house lights off."

The lights go off, and the stadium is lit up almost as bright as it had been before, but this time with the lights of thousands.

"Look at that."

It was honestly an incredible moment.

That brings me to another point: when you go to a concert, you're not just paying for the music, you're not just paying to see a band, you're paying for an experience.

Let me tell you, this was one hell of an experience.

If you don't leave a concert feeling fulfilled, then the performers didn't do their job of giving you the experience that you paid to be a part of. I'm so happy that these four bands, especially Green Day, were able to deliver.

I really did love every moment of that show, which is such a rarity for me. I'm really happy that my friend took my mother's place. I can't fucking enjoy everything when she's around.

Oh yes, it wouldn't be one of my daily blogs without me talking about how my mother consistently pisses me off. Don't worry, I have some happy shit left to end on.

I swear to fluff though, she always manages to ruin everything for me. When we went to see The Lion King on Broadway, she insisted on coming with. That meant that I wasn't able to relax in my seat because this disgusting woman was sitting next to me and I had to cram myself to the side of my chair away from her. It meant that I wasn't allowed to cry when Mufasa died or during Can You Feel The Love Tonight because I knew I'd get made fun of for it.

I even went to a Fall Out Boy concert before, her refusing to let me go myself, and I didn't sing a single song because she'd just tell me to let the professionals handle it.

And for fuck's sake, the time she compared me trying to fucking validate my existence as a trans person to her wanting a car... That will always fucking piss me off.

Sorry, I got sidetracked. I was talking about how she ruins everything for me.

I literally cannot be myself around her. I've always been judged and ridiculed by my parents, and still am. I can't enjoy anything when they're around because I'm too focused on trying not to get made fun of or yelled at.

That being said, that concert was absolutely fucking incredible. I was with thousands of people who felt the same way that I did, and I could fucking jam out if I wanted to.

Apart from everyone being really on top of their game, and Billie Joe basically not aging since he turned 25, the only really notable thing left to say about the performance was when they pulled a kid guitarist onstage. He played for a bit, and they ended up letting him keep the guitar lmao.

BEST PART IS:

I SAW THE KID AFTER THE CONCERT, AND I WAS LIKE,

"Omg, hey, can I get a selfie with you?"

I was trying to be really low-key and quiet cuz I didn't wanna draw too much attention to him lmao.

The security guard was like, "Yeah, sure, but hurry up."

I TOOK THE PIC REALLY QUICKLY AND THEN HEADED OUT

HERE IT IS

YES, OF COURSE I BLOCKED OUT MY FACE

But I absolutely love the vibes of this photo xD. It's blurry, the lighting is shit, and you can barely make out any details. It has a lot of character, and I would take this over a clean, clear photo any day.

Walking away, the kid's mom said, "You're like, the coolest kid ever now."

Agreed.

Then it was time to go home. Honestly, I didn't feel sad that it didn't last longer, or disappointed that I had to leave. I was actually very satisfied and fulfilled with what happened, which is honestly the way it should be.

Driving home, I stayed awake by sticking my arm out of the window and letting the cold rain hit fast like tiny needles.

I got home.

I passed out.

Although, that was technically on Saturday 🤔

ANYWAY, THIS IS MY LONG ASS BLOG FOR FRIDAY THE 13TH

I hope you enjoyed

Be good people!!!!

-Leonna

[toomanyfandoms02]

The Transporter ~Part Three~ // Spencer Reid x Reader

Sorry this took so long!! I have been so busy with work lately, but here she is.

Word count ~ 2,900+

Hope you guys like it :))

I stepped back through the transporter to be met with an empty room. I glanced at the clock on the wall. It read 10:15, that wasn't *that* late. Christine is probably still awake.

I made my way to her room, which wasn't incredibly far from mine. Her door was cracked open and I could see her laying in bed, reading a book in the semi dim lighting. I knocked lightly, pulling her out of her fictional world of Harry Potter.

"Oh! Y/n, I didn't think you were coming back tonight. How was everything?" She gently set her bookmark in the book, placing it on her nightstand.

I couldn't hold back the smile on my face. It was the coolest day of my life, what could I say?

"It was so amazing Christine! I accidentally set myself right into an investigation that I knew about. I met all of them, and it felt different than I thought I would-"

"Did you talk to Spencer?" She asked, nudging my side. I could feel the blood rush to my face.

"Uh, yes." I smiled, looking down at her star clad comforter. "It was incredibly surreal and I can't wait to go back. It was kind of a funny interaction, the first one. He asked me to profile him, which was obviously easy because I know him like the back of my hand. Well I thought that was gonna be the end of our interaction that day. But I accidentally left my laptop at the Bureau."

"Oh yeah *accidentally*." She smiled, throwing air quotes.

"Shush, it was actually an accident." I giggled. "Anyway, he looked up my address I guess and he brought it to me. It was sweet."

"I guess now he knows where to send flowers." I shook my head with a smile. "Well I'm glad you had fun. I hope everything works out well, don't forget there's an actual case though." She winked.

"Thanks Christine, for everything." I waved as I slinked out of the room and down the hall.

I flopped down onto my bed with a simple grin, quickly falling asleep after my eventful day.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I slapped my hand over my phone as the alarm began blaring at 9:30. I wanted to fully commit to this whole thing, just like I was in real life. But in reality, I was waking up pretty late, considering I was going to go into their universe at 8:30.

It appeared that Christine was already awake, she was softly knocking at my slightly cracked door.

"Hey sweetie, I take it you wanna head out soon?"

"Yeah! And I'm gonna have to be gone for a couple of days for the case. Get all integrated and such. Is that alright?"

"Yeah of course! Just document some experiences, or anything that seems weird or off about their universe." Chris left the room, shutting my door with a light thud.

I slipped on a white button up, putting a maroon sweater over it to add my own little touch. I looked in the mirror to make sure my dress pants were fitting me correctly and stepped into my two inch black heels.

Since I would be gone for a few days, I grabbed a suitcase plus my go-bag that I had already had from my time interning. The navy blue bag was slung over my shoulder as I walked out my door, immediately bumping into someone. I looked up to see who I remembered as Violet Glynn, who went into the Zombieland Universe.

"Sorry, Violet, right?" I shook her hand. "How's your universe going? I've always loved that movie. Please tell me Columbus is just as sweet and endearing as he is in the actual film?"

I could see her eyes light up with glee, clearly she hadn't had anyone to fangirl properly to, I could tell she was about to explode with information.

"Yes! He is incredibly kind. Talahassee is already trying to dad me, Little Rock and I are already pretty good friends but Witchita is still kinda weary of me, which is understandable. I talked to Ryan, and he said I can only change a few major things so one I chose to do was to keep Columbus from killing Bill Murray. Bill is so fun to live with so far! I just - I am totally talking about myself for too long. How is everything going for you?" I offered her a kind smile of reassurance.

"It's completely fine, I get your excitement. It's really cool, kinda different from the real job I was working. Maybe that's because I'm permanently gawking at one of my coworkers." We both laughed for a moment. "But I'm gonna be gone with him for like 3 days straight so, I guess I'm gonna have to figure something out. When I come back we should talk more." Violet nodded enthusiastically and waved as we walked to our Transporter rooms.

"Of course! See you in a few days."

I could hear Christine's heels clicking not far behind me as I began typing in the date and time.

*February 12th, 8:30 am. 2009*

"Good luck, I will see you in a few days time, yeah?"

"Yep!" I shoved my 'Come back device' in my go-bag and turned on it's much larger counterpart, nodding at Chris as I stepped in.

I was immediately greeted by my apartments bedroom, I could hear my phone buzzing on my side table. I lifted it to see a text from a certain favorite person of mine, and she didn't even know me yet.

*Penelope G*

*Hey sweets! The plane will be ready to be boarded at 9:15. The team is meeting at the BAU first for a carpool, so be there or be square! Have a good time on your first mission, from what I've seen, you're pretty amazing. :)*

I held back a small smile from my lips, this world is just as good as I always wanted it to be.

*Thank you M'lady. I've heard amazing things about you. I hope we can gossip sometime! ;)*

I sent the text and slipped my phone into my back pocket. I chucked a piece of toast in the toaster, quickly spreading peanut butter on it and checking my watch.

*8:45*

I began my walk to the BAU, probably looking extremely weird walking down the street in work attire and a piece of toast slathered with peanut butter. But I was pretty content, continuing to eat it as I reached the doors of my favorite place.

I brushed my hands together to rid of the many crumbs that had accumulated there, seeing JJ and Penelope talking at Jennifer's desk.

"Y/n! Come over here." Penelope waved me over, I pulled at the sleeves of my sweater as I walked over as confidently as possible. "Are you ready for your first case?" She leaned in a little, clearly trying to search my face for a quicker answer.

"Yeah, I think I'm pretty ready. I've done this kinda stuff before but, I'm way more nervous about this."

"I wouldn't worry to much about. I think you already impressed Hotch and Spencer, you read people extremely well. Did you seriously gather all that stuff from Reid just by knowing him for a few minutes?" JJ was clearly now invested.

"Well, yeah. He's relatively easy to read, as long as you're paying attention." JJ nodded with a smirk.

"Well, you certainly made a good first impression, you honestly sound a lot like Reid, maybe you can..." I watched as she peered behind me, her words trailing off. Her eyes darted back and forth between me and whatever was happening behind me. I whipped my head around to see Spencer walking in, he was distracted my a book, which made me smile. But that smile quickly faded as I scanned my eyes over his outfit.

He was wearing a white button up with a black tie and a maroon vest over it with black dress pants. Sound familiar? All but the black tie.

"Maybe you are even more like Reid than I thought." JJ smirked at me. All the blood had run to my face and my feet felt bolted to the ground. Why this? Why on my first official day? I could hear Garcia holding back a laugh behind me.

"This is adorable I'm sorry." She said, giggling a little.

Spencer finally looked up from his book, hearing Penelope laughing. He furrowed his eyebrows, squinting a bit. Probably wondering why I looked like a deer in headlights. He looked down at himself.

Then back up at me.

Then down at himself again.

He just smiled at me and closed his book all the way, adjusting the go-bag he held on his shoulder. I nearly dropped mine.

"What just happened?" Penelope nudged my shoulder. I shrugged and shook my head.

This was clearly going to be quite the day.

I ended up carpooling with JJ, Morgan and Reid. JJ and I sat in the back while Morgan drove, Spencer spitting facts to him about cars and traffic.

"Well, according to the DC Department of Motor Vehicles, there are almost 450,000 active drivers registered in the District. However, millions more drivers commute to DC from neighboring communities in Maryland and Virginia. D.C. is also host to millions of tourists from around the world. In 2014, more than 20 million people visited D.C., many of them renting a car or driving their own vehicle to visit." He rambled.

"Reid, all I said was there was a lot of traffic today."

"I mean he's right though." I piped in. Spence looked back at me with confused eyes. "Washington D.C. is also home to some of the worst traffic in the country. Analysts estimate that the average driver will spend 7 hours a year in traffic, wasting 6 gallons of gas. However, for D.C. drivers, one estimate found the average driver is spending 67 hours a year in traffic, wasting 32 gallons of gas while sitting in traffic." I think hearing him so much on the show, made me a little bit like him in some ways, my friends always rolled their eyes at me whenever I rambled. The only real one who listens is my uncle. He had turned around, but I could tell he was smiling.

Success.

"Good lord there's two of them."

I'll take that as a compliment.

We boarded the plane and I decided on a window seat, leaning my head up against the cold glass. My hand was unknowingly gripping the armrest a little too tightly.

"Are you a nervous flier?" I would obviously know that voice from anywhere, but right now it was coming from right across from me. I leaned my head back on the headrest.

"Not necessarily, I've flown quite a few times. I've just never been in a jet."

"The key difference between jets and propeller planes is that jets produce thrust through the discharge of gas instead of powering a drive shaft linked to a propeller. This allows jets to fly faster and at higher altitudes." He loosened his tie a little. "So I wouldn't worry too much, it feels about the same."

"Well thank you."

It was silent for a bit, but once we were in the sky we began talking about the case. Emily was talking about how she wants to be cremated because being buried was gross and weird.

"I actually agree with you. I think cremation is more personal too, I want someone to sprinkle my ashes somewhere. Not have to visit my grave and waste money on flowers every year."

Me and Emily got into that conversation as the rest of the team slowly started to do their own things. Spencer was back to reading his book, one page every 5 seconds. He peered over his book for a moment, but only a moment.

"I like your outfit by the way." He mumbled, still focused on his book, he lowered it a bit. I could see a smirk creeping onto his features. My ears began burning as the blood rushed to them.

"Thanks." I really wanted to say more to him, but it felt like my jaw was wired shut.

Morgan was not so discreetly looking over at us with eyebrows raised. But I kept my eyes out the window.

We landed about 2 hours later. I had kept myself occupied by writing down everything that just happened, so I wouldn't forget, and for Christine.

"Morgan, Reid, y/l/n, you go with the police search party and find what you can. Prentiss and I will talk to their chief. Rossi and JJ, set us up in the station."

Once we were there, we were put on a search party with the police, they quickly found the body of another woman covered in mud and holding a cross necklace. We were bringing the evidence back to the station with the others. On the way back, Spencer was telling me about the history of gold cross necklaces. I could practically hear Morgan rolling his eyes the whole time, but I just loved hearing him talk.

Once we were there, Rossi showed his blatant coldness towards the psychic that was telling a scared mother that her daughter was okay. Hotch began sending us off again, and we were off to see the bodies.

Days here moved so fast.

Once we arrived I stared at the body on the table. I lightly touched her arm, cold as ice. Seeing these body through the screen was one thing, but knowing these are real people, it's even more sad. Of course I had seen many bodies in my time, but the thought that this wasn't fictional anymore made my stomach churn a little.

"I found trace amounts of seamen, but there is no sign of sexual assault."

"Are you saying this was consensual?" Spencer tilted his head a bit. No no sweet child.

"She's saying it's happening post-mortem." I said, looking down a little. Morgan nodded and Reids face scrunched. This poor woman.

I knew I couldn't change much, because that could royally screw some stuff up, si throughout the whole thing I decided I would change things little by little to move it along faster. What I did this time was make it so we didn't waste time and interrogate the random man who was accused of being a necrophiliac, because his timeline wouldn't match up.

We made it to the house just a smidge earlier, Brooke was found on the operating table in the abandoned home, completely fine.

The days had become exhausting, as soon as we got on the jet I sat in the same seat, dropping my bag down and grabbing a small pillow out of it. I set the pillow against the window and drifted off to sleep fast.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I woke up to JJ shaking my shoulder, opening my eyes to see a blanket that read *e=mc²* all over it.

"What is this?"

"Oh, I believe Spence put that on you while you were asleep. You were shivering and he happened to have it in his go-bag I guess." She shrugged. "Everyone is heading home, so you want a ride?"

"That would be amazing, thank you."

"No problem."

It was only 5 pm, and Christine wouldn't be expecting me back until tomorrow. So I decided I was gonna get some stuff done with my time, more specifically one big thing.

I grabbed the wad of money that Chris had given me and waved down a taxi. I had them take me to the nearest car dealership. I made a hasty decision and bought a 2007 Mini Cooper. Now I could do what I really wanted.

I looked up Spencer's address and grabbed his blanket, which I had neatly folded and threw on my coffee table. He appeared to live around 15 minutes away by car.

Once I was there, nerves had set in, but I ignored them as I reached the door and knocked 3 times.

I heard a faint "Coming!" From the other side of the dark oak door. He answered with his phone propped up on his shoulder, talking to someone.

"Sorry Mom, I gotta go, love you." He hung up and pulled his phone from his ear. "Hey, what are you doing here."

I presented his blanket to him.

"I figured I would return the favor of you bringing me my laptop by bringing you your blanket." I flopped it into his outstretched arms.

"We have got to stop meeting like this." He smiled, bringing the blanket to his chest. "Would you like to come in?" He brought his hand to the collar of his shirt, attempting to loosen the strain it clearly had on his neck. "I just made a pot of coffee. And since you're just about the only one who actually listens to my ridiculous amount of rambling, I figured we could ramble together? I mean I don't know you very well and I honestly want to be the first to befriend you, you're very intriguingly different. Not in any kind of bad way I just-" His face was slowly getting more red and I could see that his grip on the poor blanket was almost white knuckle.

"I would love to." I stepped into his apartment with a sigh.

Was this a dream?

Maybe.

If so, I wanna be asleep *forever*.

Taglist!!

@natibugg31

@onceupona-diamond

@buck-barn

@cyndagoaway

[bakugouscentedcaramel]

Ah yes, the time has come.

It's time to get your pen and paper because class is in session!

There's plenty of things I could talk about and I pretty much covered the basics down below, but I'm more than willing to help y'all out with anything specific!

I have to preface that I'm not an English major by any means nor do I have any experience writing professionally, the things listed below are purely based on my opinions and submissions I have received.

Writing is forever a learning process, there really isn't a right way of writing but there are definitely some things that will hinder your readers. Here is a list that I compiled both with my own experiences as well as some user submitted issues when it comes to reading works:

•Big blocks of text

° Typos/wrong word usage

•Using the same words

°Too spaced out/not indented where needed

• Dialogue runs into normal sentences

° Speakers/POVs change without notice

• Inconsistencies, either in general or story inconsistencies

°Lack of description/Too much description

• Bland/Artificial actions/dialogue

° Misuse of punctuation/lack thereof

• Capitalization errors

° Long winded sentences

• Using italics for actions

° Confusing formating

• Changing in Tenses

° Using wrong tags/falsely advertising (ex. Reader x Blank should have Y/N, not an OC/Authors name)

• Author notes/comics/pictures in middle of fic

° "~This is a transition~"

• Forcing a character to be OOC for sake of story

° Filler characters

• Not sticking to a specific genre/jumpy moods

Now don't be intimidated by this list! Some of these are pretty self explanatory so I won't go into a few of them. There are plenty of ways to avoid these and in some cases it is perfectly fine to use any of the above. 

Let's start off with the basics!

Sentence structure is the backbone of writing, but it's a very flexible rule. Obviously you have your subject, verb, object and whatnot, but the true art lies in word choice and length.

When it comes to sentences, size does matter. If your sentences are too short they will seem choppy and unfinished, whereas if they are long they will seem winded and unnatural. The biggest tool you can use to find out if a sentence is too short/long is by reading it aloud! If you run out of breath it's too long but if you finish abruptly it's too short.

Word choice is my favorite weapon to work with, I could describe a blue jay as a normal bird or as a mythical animal just by picking the right words!

"The blue jay flew across the field while it sang it's melody."

Or

"A creature with wings made of clouds swooped across the field whilst roaring out a devilish tune."

Word choice can easily convey tone/feeling so it's definitely an important element to writing! If you ever have trouble finding that perfect word try googling for synonyms! Also this website might help you find that one word that you just can't think of!

Grammar is also a very important part of writing. Using the right words and punctuation can be difficult sometimes but there are some easy fixes!

Spelling is an easy fix, if you forgot/don't know how to spell a word consulting a dictionary or Google is a surefire way of solving your problem. You can even find synonyms if you feel like you've used a word too much. 

Punctuation on the other can be a big more difficult, however. 

Here's a couple of sentences that helped me learn basic punctuation:

A comma splice walks into a bar, it has a drink then leaves. Commas are a means of sewing two sentences together to form a compound sentence. These are mainly used to list out things and to add fluidity to your works so they don't sound as choppy.

A question mark walks into a bar? Question marks are pretty self explanatory. They either raise a question or form uncertainty.

Two quotation marks "walk" into a bar. Quotations are used for both dialogue and metaphors. I personally love using them for sarcasm!

A gerund and an infinitive walk into a bar, drinking to drink. This one is a tougher one that I personally never learned from any of my classes. A gerund is basically a word that can act as a verb or a noun which would be "drinking". An infinitive is the base of a verb, in this case it's "drink".

The bar was walked into by a passive voice. A passive voice is when you emphasize the action and object of a sentence rather than the subject. You can find that a passive voice tends to use past tense where as an active voice uses present/future tense.

Three intransitives walk into a bar. They sit. They drink. They leave. An intransitive verb is an action verb, expressing a doable activity like arrive, go, lie, sneeze, sit, die, etc.

Some other things that I commonly see are the wrong usages of words. For example:

They: a group of individuals/pronoun "Yeah, they said he'd be here thirty minutes ago."

Their: a possessive pronoun "Leave their stuff alone!'

There: location "What's that over there?"

Then: event/action "Val went to the mall then skittered to the park."

Your: possessive "Your self esteem is lower than the Mariana's Trench!"

You're: a conjunctive "you are"

Affect: caused by actions "The fallen french fry really affected Val's mood."

Effect: caused by events "Climate change has a negative effect on my Cheerios."

Peaked: a summit "Val has peaked at 10:19pm"

Piqued: stimulate interest/curiosity "You have piqued Val's interest by mentioning food."

Do time: "Val is fixin' to do time if she keeps slacking."

Due time: "Val will come with hydration in due time."

Per say: not a thing

Per se: by/in itself "She didn't write this late at night, per se…"

There are different tools you can use to spice up your writings, from metaphors to innuendos, all the way to zeugmas! Let's go over the basic definitions of these bad boys.

Metaphor: a figure of speech that is not literally applicable. "The darkness surrounded us like a shroud." Obviously the darkness can't physically shroud anyone.

Innuendo: a sentence with a hidden meaning "Is that a gator in your pants or are you just happy to see me~" 

Zeugma: a sentence containing words that can be used literally and figuratively, like a love child of the two above. "Val and her coupon expired last week." This implies that not only did my Colgate coupon expire, but I died as well.

Paragraphs are a necessity when it comes to writing. Big blocks of text are an eyestrain to readers and it's easy to lose your place, even if it's only 150 words. It's always best to use Tab or at least 5 spaces when indenting. A paragraph should only be 5-7 sentences long, this is so it's not just multiple blocks of text

When to add a new paragraph:

° A new person comes in

• New idea/context

° Setting changes

• New person is speaking

° Time changes

• The "camera" moves

° Tone shifts

• 5-7 sentences has been reached

Paragraphs help you organize your work in a way and they make it easier for your readers' eyes!

POVs are also very important. First person and third person are by far the most common ones so I'll only touch on these two. It's very important to write a story in one strict POV as to not confuse the readers. You can however jump perspectives like Heroes of Olmpyus by Rick Rodian, as long as the ready can easily tell who is telling the story.

First person is a story that is told from first-hand experience. It's the same as if I told y'all the story on how I almost chopped off my thumb in woodshop class back in middle school. First person tends to use a lot of I's and my's

Third person is a story that is told from a narrators' point of view. Such as "Once upon a time" type of stories. I's and my's should only be used in dialogue

Dialogue is probably one of the most important features of any fic/story. Dialogue can push plots forward as well as add life to a character. Here's a simple exchanged:

"Hiya 'Splodey," Val chirped.

Katuski smirked, "M'dumbass."

Dialogue should always come with a pair of quotation marks. Commas and periods generally go inside the quotation marks whereas dashes, colons, and semicolons almost always go outside the quotation marks. Question marks and exclamation marks however can go either inside or outside, it goes by a case by case basis. Always indent whenever a different speaker is talking, running quotes into each other is a no-go because it causes confusion and eyestrain.

You have to be wary of using simple dialogue exchanges though, if they seem off try saying them out loud! Dialogue is one of my favorite things to write because you can weave personality into them, not to mention you can always hear people talking to get a better idea on how to write dialogue.

For example, I have a southern dialect, meaning I sound different than someone from the north! I use words like "y'all", "fixin'", "finna", "ain't" and have a different vocabulary than that of my northern friends. This means that the characters you're portraying should have their own way of speaking! This will not only add flavor to your dialogue but it also adds to their personalities/backgrounds.

Describing things can be just as valuable as dialogue, but it is a bit more complex. Sure we've all heard of the "show, don't tell" rule. Which is a good rule to follow, however too much showing is just as bad as telling. Again, reading out your work is a great way to tell if you're focusing too much on one thing. Another thing to keep in mind is importance, such as do we really need to know that the grass outside was bluegrass? Which in certain situations it would be! For example:

The grass around the disheveled house was brown and straw-like, with the exception of a ring of grass. Bluegrass. Which wasn't even native to this location.

This paints a pretty good spooky picture in the readers' mind and even adds the element suspense by the implied uncertainty.

I've only covered a small portion of writing so if y'all have any questions or need any help feel free to slide into my DMs or send in an ask! I love getting questions about writing and I'm always willing to help a fellow writer!

[ilchohand]

Ichidai San vs Seidou: Koshien Aftereffects

@ Anon-san, here's the essay haha!

I've officially watched the Ichidai San vs Seidou match for the fourth time last night. My adrenaline was so high, I couldn't sleep until 3am that I ended up wanting to unleash all these feelings for this show.

Daiya, Act II ep 13

And I kid you not. I'm writing 'bout everyone in Seidou.

Coach Kataoka & Ochiai

Let's start with Boss. I'd like to reiterate that he always had high hopes for Eijun.

Daiya, Act I ep 5

He placed Eijun in the first string even when the boy was still shit with his form, his control, and zero baseball knowledge. Even Osaka Kiryuu's coach implied that it's actually Eijun who is Kataoka's secret weapon.

I remember him even letting Eijun pitch against Raichi during the batter's next at-bat against Eijun. That was cleary a sign that he was starting to trust Eijun. But clearly Eijun wasn't still good enough back then. Kataoka knew of Eijun's potential, it's just that he didn't expect him to grow soooo fast. Eijun was bound to get there someday, but not this soon. However, seeing Furuya's pitching in Koshien, he too was blinded by it since he was desperate for a real ace with an impact. Of course you'd wanna parade your pitcher like that. This is where Ochiai enters the picture. (If you've ever felt personally victimized by Ochiai, please raise your hand! ✋) Kidding. Ochiai was shit during his introduction. It took a long time to warm up to him, but he was an essential addition to the coaching staff. Kataoka, although tough is more of a feeling kind of coach. While Ochiai takes information at face value. Clearly in the Ichidai game, Ochiai was the one who was practical even suggesting that Eijun's pitching is more effective (even though he likes Furuya as a pitcher more). Kataoka was blind, and it was glaring. Why? You see the other teams were watching. And every single coach of the teams Seidou played against with is wary of Sawamura- even Inashiro's Coach Kunitomo. Eijun is the kid who rallied Seidou to one out away into reaching Summer Koshien- during his first freaking year.

This is why I really like it when Ochiai said Kataoka is human afterall. I guess Kataoka also has some growing up to do.

I'd like to add that these two coaches were blinded by the Koshien performance that they didn't even notice that Furuya's form was crumbling. Quoting these reddit posts, the coaching staff was purely after results. If it's not broken, don't try to fix it. We all gotta say thank you to baseball jesus, Chris-senpai, for we won't be having this problem with Eijun.

Furuya

Contrary to people saying Furuya became selfish, I feel like he actually knew what his role is and the expectations from him. He never once lost the goal to win Nationals. It's just that, he didn't know how to actually do it. He was chasing his best performance. He didn't want to be Japan's #1 pitcher for the title you know. He wanted to be the top pitcher to bring his team to the top.

Let's accept it. Despite being a monster rookie, he shouldered the ace number prematurely. Of course the weight of it would one day catch up to him. This is why the phrase 'There are no shortcuts.' keeps being reiterated in the story. I felt bad for Furuya so much. This phase of his baseball life is pretty parallel to Eijun's yips arc.

Eijun

How do I even start with our ball of sunshine? He really puts relief in 'relief pitching'. Such a refreshing player. Woah, like Sanada Shunpei. Yes we know that an ace carries the whole team, we know that an ace saves the team during a pinch, and an ace uplifts the overall mood. Already sounds like Eijun right? We know the role of an ace and how an ace should perform towards the team. What the Ichidai San match highlighted is how a team, in response, acts towards the ace. Trust. It really slapped me in the face the same way it frustrated Eijun. The extreme difference in trust given to an ace versus a relief pitcher.

This was the turning point for Eijun. Probably why I love rewatching it despite the angst. (For a more painful experience, try rewatching the episode before the Ichidai San match 🤭🔪🦝) Anyway, during that scene where Kataoka was dumbstruck with Eijun's top tier pitching I kept remembering that one quote from HQ by the U19 coach--

"We don't look for them, but that doesn't matter. They come to us with solid, undeniable strength and they make us choose them."

Literally screams SAWAMURA EIJUN!!!

Miyuki Kazuya

Where should I stab him? (Ya'll stop taking me seriously when I say stab okay?) I've been saying this all the time but our personality is the same. It's nasty. I love him and hate him at the same time okay?

Anyway, I hope we're all aware and agree that Miyuki also saw Eijun's potential from day 1. Sakuhin shit right there. Miyuki likes interesting people or happenings. This guy played catch with noob Eijun during his day-off! Offered, in fact. (Act 1, ep 5 during that intra squad game of 2nd/3rd yrs vs 1st yrs).

May I also add! Chris didn't like Eijun in the beginning. It was Miyuki who ended up covincing Chris to look at Eijun clearly and say "to a catcher, he's the most interesting kind of pitcher". However, this boy has his first string duties so it was understandable that he focused on Furuya for a while. But what's unacceptable is, during Ichidai's game, he was guilty of prioritizing Furuya over the game. This is 99% on Kataoka but 1% on Miyuki. Bitch you were losing and you couldn't even send distress signals to the coach. He trusted Furuya because of the Koshien performance and the ace number when a whole ass Sawamura Eijun exists. That's why he was quite guilty when Eijun dropped the 'trust' word on him during the switch.

And while I like that Eijun's performance during the Ichidai San match was eye opening to the catcher, I still haven't forgiven Miyuki for the day before the game when he 'ditched' or put Ei on the back burner. No, no. I'm not simply being a bitch about it because we know Miyuki's POV at that point. He needed to figure out what's wrong with Furuya and a match was looming. He didn't throw Eijun away, he just put him off a few hours. What I'm angry about is the way he put it to Eijun.

We all know Eijun is dying for some Miyuki acknowledgement. I'm pretty sure Miyuki is so unaware of this fact. Which brings me to the point. Miyuki is unaware of how his words come across to Eijun. How it impacts the little pitcher. That a simple jab to Eijun like "ace-sama wants to pitch" is a big sore spot. We see this later at night when Eijun keeps repeating, "Since I'm already put at the back burner!". Miyuki was being sarcastic about the ace-sama thing. But you see, Eijun is a big idiot. He takes everything at face value. Miyuki even brushes it off as they practice catch, "You're still angry about that?" he jokes.

And whooosh, everything's okay! Or is it?

You may say I'm being dramatic about it. But no. Here's why. During the Ichidai match, Eijun flashes back to two things. One, while on the bullpen frustrated that Furuya's messing up, he recalls the day before when Miyuki chose to catch for Furuya even though he promised to Eijun. (The other one, at his at-bat, he remembers when Kataoka didn't let him pitch the last inning.) So what seems to be a simple nasty joke to Miyuki is a sore spot to Eijun. I have observed this time and time again, but Eijun is quick to under value himself, and these jokes Miyuki pulls aren't helping. Recall that crippled Sawamura self deprecating joke he did, and him saying he was put in the back burner.

(Well anyway, Miyuki was praising Eijun in his mind the night before so I'm appeased. This is one of those TJ inconsistencies I hate, but okay, that's another post. ☹️)

Everything got better after the Ichidai game. Because as Eijun made Kataoka look at him properly. He also did the same to Miyuki. Eijun's performance just screamed, "I'm here. I'm ready!" It lit a fire to everyone in Seidou.

Fielders/Batters

I want to end my long ass post with a good one. I wanna highlight the team's performance during the Ichidai game.

While Furuya was pitching, I could go as far as say the fielder's were baby-ing him. They were so soft and encouraging because they knew Furuya when he is at his best and that it was off day during that time. The fielders were playing primarily to relieve Furuya's pressure.

In contrast, when Eijun was playing on the mound do you guys know how the batters felt? Kanemaru? Kuramochi? Utter frustration and hopelessness. And I was giddy as fuck when that happened. Because Eijun was performing his best, but they couldn't get any runs in response to his amazing pitching. It mothafuckin felt so good watching them feel powerless.

Don't you love this whole match? Obviously I do haha! If you guys ended up reading everything, then thank you! I really wrote this for myself because I was overwhelmed while rewatching it. 😅