#real appreciation hour for lemons

[haunted-planes]

Lemons 🍋✨

[floral-hex]

I just want to get blasted, either out of my mind or into the sun, I’m not picky

[being-addie]

Morning Routines

We're all looking at those Instagram influencers who somehow manage to wake up at 5 am, do meditation, journal, do a 15-step Korean skincare routine, and go to the gym. And then they make a green smoothie and avocado toast, get dressed in a Chanel outfit and then sit at their fancy desk with a vanilla latte and a croissant.

This is not realistic. You probably already know that, but it likely won't stop you from trying to change your routine bit by bit to look a little like theirs. That didn't stop me, at least.

But now I've come to realise that no matter how much I try, I'll never be able to have a routine like the ones I see online. Because it doesn't exist. It's all curated for aesthetic appeal and generates a sense of false productivity in the watcher's brain. We feel motivated looking at those videos and never get around to changing our own life because we're too busy living vicariously through our phones.

Here's some things you should add to your morning routine, not to be fancy, but to feel better. This is coming from someone who's tried the unrealistic routines, and I now incorporate all of these into my routine. You can skip or add things according to your schedule.

S-T-R-E-T-C-H: Do your body a favour and loosen up your muscles. Nothing better than having a good stretch that wakes your body up.

Drink water: Before you put anything in your system, drink water. Not coffee, not tea. Plain warm water. And I don't mean lemon water. Some people might not agree, but lemon water strips your teeth of the enamel. It also is acidic, so all that bullshit they talk about it being "alkaline and pH balancing" is nonsense. Warm water is the way to go.

Make your bed: A clean bed should be the first thing you do after you wake up. At the end of the day, you'll thank yourself because it will be clean, and fresh and you can fall into bed immediately.

Hygiene: Wash your face to get rid of crusty eyes and sleep. Do a basic skincare routine (cleanser, moisturizer) so you'll feel fresher. Brush your teeth and hair.

Move your body: It doesn't matter what you do, even if it's for 15 minutes. Go for a walk, do a Zumba workout, or squeeze in a HIIT session. You can find lots of tutorials on YouTube (Caroline Girvan, growingannanas, Chloe Ting). Either way, working out will help you feel more motivated and happier. It's the endorphins.

Clean yourself: Set aside some time for showering, slathering on lotion, and doing your (real) skincare and makeup routine. Pick an outfit that makes you feel good about yourself.

Eat something: ALWAYS make some food. Your body has been famished for hours on end, give it some fuel. Make a healthy breakfast, or prep one the night before. If you don't get very hungry in the mornings, have a banana, and pack a mid-morning snack beforehand so you don't reach for chips.

Do 3 things: Make a to-do list of everything you need to do today. Don't overwhelm yourself. Then, knock off 3 easy tasks from the list that you can do quickly. You'll be filled with a sense of motivation, and it'll be easier for you to complete your list. It can be chores, it could be some assigned reading. Just get it done.

Gratitude or prayer: You don't need to sit for 15 minutes to practice gratitude. You can think of things your thankful for on the way to school or work or practice deep breathing/say a small prayer on the subway or bus. You don't HAVE to do it, but it definitely makes you realise how much you have in life and appreciate it more.

Kindness: Start your day with kindness. Compliment your barista, smile at the old lady on the street, pet the stray cat. There's so much love in the world, and you have so much love inside you, and it's beautiful to be a part of it.

No longer will I be stuck in a rut. I cannot be confined to being a bitter, unhealthy person when I know there's a smiling, healthy, happy version of me in the future. Deep breaths. You'll get there babe.

<3

[trendywaifus]

can i request general relationship hcs for grace (sfw and/or nsfw)?

SFW

— grace is a very enthusiastic and passionate lover. veryyy affectionate and all that good stuff. when she comes around/seeking you, she’d pull you into a big hug and plaster your face with kisses. she’s the type to do it in front of people and not even notice they’re there.

— calls you all the petnames like muffin, cupcake, cutie, baby, babe, lemon drop—you name it! it gets so sappy that koleda even tells her to knock it off because it’s cringe to hear that 24/7

“ baby babe, hand me that wrench, please? “

“ cutiepie, i’m running a diagnostic test on our recent child. i’ll tell you all about the results when i’m done! “

— grace is passionate in what she do, so passionate she’d endanger and close herself off from you and the others to work on her passion projects. the best thing you can do is support her and provide her with food and anything she needs. grace ends up injured sometimes so you pretty much have to force her down and treat her.

“ ow, please be gentle, baby! i’m trying to figure out— “

“ grace, please put that clipboard down so i can clean your wounds. “

— doesn’t get much sleep sometimes, so you have to make her sleep. grace is a cuddler and ends up clinging on to you with her little sleeping mask on. she kinda snores and mumbles in her sleep but it’s adorable.

— you know how i said grace loves to kiss on you? i’m being serious. you walk past her— “ hey muffin!”muah “ sweetie, sweetie! come look at this! “ she’d excitingly wave you over and once you come close, she’s smooching your lips before showing you whatever she wanted you to see.

— grace knows she can be too much at times but greatly appreciates your support and you sticking by her. human or android. if you’re human she’s going to appreciate you x2.

NSFW

— a freak. need i say more?

— mechanical sex toys are a MUST. whether they’re used on you or her, it’s going to be included in the sex.

— very vocal. if you’re fucking her real good, EVERYONE is going to know it and it’s not even intentional. she can’t hide it.

— a switch. she’s all about pleasing you while getting her own high.

— a messy eater. grace gets pussy drunk easily and will stay in between your legs for HOURS and call it a meal before going back to her projects.

— when grace’s sucking your dick, she’s very sloppy. she doesn’t care if she’s drooling all over you, making a mess, or whatever—she lives for the praises and reactions you give her.

— into quickies and celebration sex. will drag you off somewhere to blow off some excitement or to clear her head. one of her projects was a success?? omg darling let’s go fuck to celebrate it!!

[ninihousebears3000]

HR Department! reader X Alucard

A goodnight kiss.

Pulling an all-nighter causes you to hear strange things.

CW: No warnings!

It's quite late.

You had to agree with the voice in your head. Pulling overtime was necessary considering how your workload suddenly increased. Now you're bookkeeper another responsibility on your plate. Computerizing this ancient system that the organization was barely running on was your mission. But efficiency is your reputation and you wouldn't be able to sleep knowing that things were left in limbo.

Rest, work will be here tomorrow but you won't be here much longer if you keep going on like this.

Morbid but true. Maybe some coffee will give you clarity? After all your computer screen began looking less and less clear. You were certain it was working just fine a moment ago. Standing up you grab your favorite mug off your desk heading to your in-office coffee machine. Walter had refused to use k-cups opting to brew a fresh pot for you every day. But he would cut you off after two cups so for your third and fourth cups you used your K-cups from home.

You placed your mug on the machine instinctively reaching for the box of k-cups. Only to be met with empty space. "What the hell?" You had a full box where did it go? Checking in the cabinets, your bag, and drawers, not a single K-cup could be found. Even your coat pocket didn't have an emergency K-cup. "Perhaps there's some upstairs?" Thinking aloud was your tendency nowadays since this was your own private office. Although, a few more employees and an assistant would be very helpful. Being the head of the human resources department doesn't mean much if you're the only employee.

You thought to yourself as you left your office walking through the basement.

"An office near civilization would be nice."

You retorted walking past the many cells in the dungeon. You know Seras' room is near here. "I wonder what she's up to?" You appreciate her company she seems chipper than most considering her situation. At times you can tell she just wants another person to talk to. It does pain you that she pops in at the busiest of times. It's only been a few weeks since the Police Girl ‘joined’. You did try advocating for her to have a change of uniform and to be at least called by her real name. Those were still ongoing battles.

Then there was Alucard. You're still trying to get a one-on-one meeting about his workplace misconduct. It's difficult to arrange anything with him he has no email! An audible groaning sigh escaped you.

Your thoughts kept you entertained as you finally made it to the kitchen. Normally, there would be servants and other staff members but the only remaining people here were the residents and the perimeter guards. Of course, the ones in the surveillance room which felt weird to think about them watching you right now.

Of course, there was no leftover coffee left so you were having to pull off your lazy slacks and brew some yourself.

Coffee at this hour? Your sleep will surely be ruined. The sun rises in only a few hours. How about lemon ginger tea?

You took your mug and started rinsing out the old coffee stains. Possibly something else for a change?

When you were filling up your mug with cold water to get the last of the stains out. You jolted the mug towards your face splashing your face with cold water. The sensation still shocked you but woke you up for certain.

"My voice is deep but why is my thought voice that deep?" Was delirium setting in? Or was someone truly talking to you? You can see why Sir Penwood said this place can be maddening. Instead of coffee or tea, you opted for ice-cold orange juice and a leftover banana nut muffin. The sugar should help until you find a stopping point. Plus the leftover wetness on your shirt can help keep you awake. Seems like you would be spending the night Walter gave you a ride since your car was practically living in the shop at this point.

Almost three in the morning the voice in your head was right about it being very late. By the time you returned, you finished the muffin and chugged the juice as soon as you sat down. Just one more paragraph to type and you can call it a night.

You've had worse nights from your undergrad years!

Cracking your knuckles your nimble fingers went back to work.

Sugar can't stop sleep deprivation.

There it was again! You can ignore it! Fight on you're the head of the human resources department!

What's the harm?

Just close your eyes for a few minutes.

You never noticed how soothing the baritone voice was until now. An eye break couldn't hurt, right?

That's right little human. Just close those pretty eyes.

The computer screen was looking warped in ways you've never seen a screen do before. Your lids were heavier and you were leaning on your arms at this point.

"But I am not finished yet." Trying to fight this heavy exhaustion was increasingly difficult. Before you knew it your head was using your arms as a pillow and the desk was a bed.

Everything will be fine little human.

"I am six feet." Your eyes closed for the final time. The heat from the cardigan now placed on your shoulders reminded you of the blanket on your soft bed.

Shh, sleep little human.

Wait, your cardigan was on the back of your chair!

Now be a good little human and stay asleep.

Hot breath grazed your exposed neck along with a hissing noise. You reached for the pistol underneath your desk and fired a shot at the source of this strange body heat. To your surprise you found Hellsing's trump card sitting on the ground in the corner of your office. Thankfully, Walter gave you a pistol strangely you asked for a silencer.

"ALUCARD! DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY WORKPLACE MISCONDUCT VIOLATIONS YOU STACKED UP!" Panting and filled with rage you kept your gun aimed at him.

"You know those blessed bullets do hurt." He was bleeding out of his left shoulder. Despite that, his face held an awful grin.

"YOU WERE TRYING TO DRINK MY BLOOD! AND YOU HAVE BEEN IN MY HEAD!" You never thought your first meeting with Alucard was going to be him nearly drinking your blood.

"Shh, you're louder than Police Girl." His nonchalant attitude was getting on your nerves. "Consider it a goodnight kiss little human." Alucard stood to his full height seeing how he still regarded you as little.

"We need to address some misconduct violations." Was this going to be your only chance to talk to him?

"I don't think your department applies to me." He began to walk past you. "Now if you'll excuse me the sun will be rising soon." But your reflexes were being kind to you. Opening your drawer you pulled out a thick binder and flipped to the middle of it pointing at a document.

"You and Seras Victoria fall into this category of employee." He leaned down to read it. His crimson eyes bounced up to yours and then to the book again. "Did you just call me a police dog?" A hint of irritation was in his tone.

"Therefore you must follow the same guidelines as every employee here." You were the head of the human resources department you weren't going to let this misconduct run rampant anymore!

"Please have a seat Alucard." Alucard narrowed his eyes at you and then smirked. "Alright then HR." He smirked while sitting down crossing his legs in the seat in front of your desk. While you grabbed your chair that was pushed across the room after his initial introduction.

You weren’t expecting him to give in judging from what Seras and Walter had told you. But you can’t rest knowing you had the chance.

"Now shall we begin with boundaries."

[scandinavianfairytale]

Safe in your arms

Pairing: Tangerine x Reader

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, misogyny, threat of violence (not towards the Reader)

A/N: I decided his real name is Ethan, with no context or back story. I just like the name and it would suit him 😁

Tangerine had your number memorized - he ought to, given how many times he has dialed it. In fact, he memorized it as soon as you wrote it on the piece of napkin when he met you in that rooftop bar in London.

He was working with Lemon, completely focused on their target, until he saw you getting harassed. He stepped in, kissing your cheek, and met the man's eyes. The dude was visibly shaken.

"You didn't say you had a new toy."

"I don't owe you anything, Marcus. Least of all a list of who I'm seeing." You glared at the man.

"Have fun with a used woman." Marcus spat at Tangerine. As he turned around, Tangerine wanted to grab him by the neck and throw him off of the roof, but your hand stopped him.

"Leave him. His ego is wounded, and he's lashing out." You waved your hand and let go of the situation.

"What a child." Tangerine muttered.

"Male fragility more like it."

"Do you usually go for men like that?"

"I don't date boys - him included." You finally met Tangerines' eyes.

"So what happened to him?"

"I told him I'm not interested, but he has yet to grasp that idea."

"How many times did you have to say no?"

"I think now it was the fourth time."

"Why keep being polite?"

"Because being mean might get me in trouble."

"Well, I'd be happy to assist you. If you want him to stop bothering you, just say the word and you will never hear from him again."

Your eyebrows shot up and you considered the man in front of you. He was very handsome. Strong, but at the same time still delicate.

"I don't doubt you'd do that, but I don't need your help. Thank you, though. That was very kind of you to jump in before." You smiled at him and jumped off the bar stool. Only then did you realize how much taller he really was.

"Wait. I know that this is a bit forward of me, but I was hoping you'd give me your phone number?" Tangerine wanted to bite his tongue immediately after saying those words.

He was glad his mouth was quicker than his brain. Five years later, and you were still in his life. The phone rang six times, before he heard your still groggy voice pick up.

"It's nine am, Love. Are you still in bed?" Tangerine grinned.

"Ethan, morning." He could hear you smile. He loved hearing his name roll from your lips. He could picture you right now, lazing around, still in your underwear with his T-shirt, with the work laptop turned on, giving the illusion that you were already working.

"It's already evening here." He almost scolded.

"When are you coming back? I feel like it's been weeks since I saw you."

"Have you been thinking about me?" Tangerine smirked as he whispered into the phone, looking around to see if anyone was listening.

"You know I have." You smirked into the phone on your side of the world. "Although I appreciate that no one is hogging the whole bed every night." You joked.

"I hate to tell you this, Love, but you're the bed hog."

"Agree to disagree." You smiled. "Are you okay?"

"I'm doing good. How are you holding up?" Tangerine looked out of the window at the passing landscape.

"I'm okay. I met some friends yesterday, and we ended up going for cocktails. It was a bad idea, drinking on a work day." You giggled.

"I'm glad you had fun. But take it easy today, and please don't go out jogging if you feel sick."

"Ethan, stop worrying about me, just come home as soon as you can, okay?" Your voice got serious.

"Okay. We are almost done, I'll be there hogging the bed again in no time." Tangerine smiled.

"Okay. I love you." You smacked your lips, sending him a vitual kiss.

"I love you." He smiled and hung up.

Contrary to his fantasy, you have been up for the last 3 hours, worrying about your boyfriend. He should've been back several days ago, but he took an extra job since he was already in Tokyo. But something felt off to you, and you have been worried since then. Going out drinking helped you out with putting the nagging feeling away at least for a bit. But then you woke up from another nightmare, still drunk from a few hours before.

However, hearing him just now made you feel so much better and you were able to focus and stop dreading what may go wrong. You went back to hoping and impatiently waiting for Ethan to be back, safe in your arms.

Thank you for reading ✨️😊

The GIF belongs to the amazing creator 🙏✨️

[thewritingofspencerrose]

How To Get The Girl

Oscar Piastri x Zak Brown Daughter OC

"I don't even know what I'm supposed to say to her," Oscar mumbles, looking between the men that had become like brothers to him on the grid. "I mean she's a beauty, and even more than that she's brilliant. Zak was telling me how she-"

"Is a 4.0 student studying elementary education blah blah blah," Lando cuts him off, having been standing with their boss as well when he was bragging about his daughter. "Mate, you just have to pulling it together and ask her out. Buy her a rose or compliment her clothes or something," He suggests, earning a shake of the head from the Dutchman and American beside them.

"Dude, just tell her that you find her hot," Is Logan's suggestions, one that has none of the drivers questioning why he remains one of the few drivers to be single.

"Or, you could compliment her intelligence. Women always love when you compliment their brains instead of their looks," Max offers as his attempt to help, not having a ton of advice for the kid given he wasn't entirely sure how he managed to get Kelly to date him in the first place.

"Listen to Max, don't listen to Logan," The woman of the hour chimes, having approached the boys outside of the Mclaren garage without warning or detection. "Women don't want to feel like you only appreciate them for their bodies.

Lando, ever the wingman wraps his arm around Oscar's shoulders, chuckling. "You know, Oscar could use a bit more insider advice like that, do you have any spare time?"

"Spare time? I'm literally just here to smile and wave a Zak Brown's daughter," I can't help but remind, making the boys laugh. "But insider scoop? Do I know this girl, Osc?"

The Australian shakes his head no, but I can see the faint blush on his cheeks, and I can't help but feel deflated.

"Well, if you buy me a coffee I'll tell you the ins and outs of talking to women," I offer, Lo nodding on Osc's behalf.

"He'll buy you that coffee, we don't have our media panel till later anyways," Max is the one to offer a real answer, the older driver smiling down at me.

"You all are a suspicious bunch, you know that?"

"It's why they're never to be trusted," Oscar offers, making me laugh an him smile. "Are you available for a walk?"

Holding out my hand, I can't help but smile as I beckon him forward. "Come on Piastri, let's get you sorted before one of these goons teaches you how to peeve out a woman."

And he follows, the both of us waving goodbye to his now grumbling friends.

"I think you may have hurt their egos, they tend to think they're great with women," Osc jokes, not meeting my eyes.

"All three of those boys would make great boyfriends, they're sweet and caring beyond all else. But being a good boyfriend and being able to get girls are very different monsters," I offer, him bumping my side with his own.

"And what about me?"

"You Oscar Piastri, would make an amazing boyfriend," I assure. "And from the sounds of it, you may get the chance to prove me right soon, yeah?"

My heart twinges in pain, even the idea of him with someone else hurting. Of having to befriend her and stand with her in the garage and watch them be a couple making me uncomfortable.

But all I can do is smile, because he's my friend first.

"Oh, yeah," He mumbles, the words having an strong Australian hit that usual.

"So, tell me about her! What are her interests? The more I know, the better the advise I can give."

"Here, let's get coffees first and then I'll take all the wisdom you can give me, yeah?" Osc offers, but he's ducking off to the coffee cart to our left before I can even answer, simply trailing along after him as he greets the woman. "Could I please get a lemon tea and an iced coffee with oat milk and hazelnut flavoring?"

How does he know my coffee order?

He smiles down at me, eyes warm as he hands my drink over to me, his fingers brushing my own and him all together overwhelming my senses. His cologne, his smile, his eyes.

"How do you know what I get in my coffee?" I can't help but ask, his smile turning bashful.

"You order it ever time you're here and the team grabs breakfast, guess I just picked up on it," Is his answer with a shrug, acting as if its the most simple thing in the world.

But it means a lot.

"Whoever this girl is you're trying to ask out is a very lucky girl, Oscar Piastri," I compliment, his cheeks shading pink.

"Do you really think so?"

And I can't help the scoff that leaves my lips at his insinuation that it could be anything but the truth.

"Osc, you remembered my coffee order. You're sweet, you're smart, more than talented, and you have a big heart," is my justification, patting his chest.

"So, you think a girl would say yes if I asked her?" Is his next question, starting our movement away from the coffee spot and simply moving through the paddock.

"Without a doubt." I know I would.

"So if I asked you?"

"If you asked me what? For tips?" I joke, bumping him with my shoulder, but he's not laughing like I am.

"No, if I asked you out," He corrects, putting a hand out and taking my own. "I'm asking you out."

"I- what?"

"Maeve Brown, the girl I needed help asking out was you," He clarifies, eyes meeting mine as he smiles, clearly amused by confusion.

"You... like me?"

"Very much so yes," Osc nods, his hair falling into his face.

It makes me laugh, and that's not the reaction he was expecting based on his confused expression.

"You are the biggest idiot I've ever met, Piastri."

Now he just looks insulted. "Excuse me?"

"I have been interested in you since you were with Alpine and you needed my own advice to ask me out? To which I never even gave you because you just asked me out?" I explain, still chuckling at the once again bashful boy.

"I guess I just needed a boost in confidence," Is his shrugged response. "But if you've been into me that long, does that mean it's a yes?"

"You're an idiot," I repeat once more, leaning up to place a kiss to his lips. "But I'd be more than happy if you'd be my idiot."

[something-tofightfor]

2023 Summer Kiss Prompt #13: Javier Peña - A Lazy Kiss

An Anon requested giving Javi P some much needed relaxation, and while this isn't entirely a relaxing moment for him ... I think it fits.

Thank you for the request, Anon!

*Not connected to any other Javi I've written. No real rating.

Word Count: 1720

The air was hot and hazy, and Javier had long since discarded the button up he’d put on that morning. 

You watched as he worked in a t-shirt, the man’s bare arms glistening with sweat, a damp stripe down the center of his back and along his spine. It was a sight you were used to thanks to all the time you spent on the ranch - and the time you’d spent with Javi. Much more lately.

Grinning, you turned away from the window and headed for the refrigerator, pulling out a pitcher of sun tea that you’d made the previous day. Trailing your fingers over the cool glass of the container, you peeked into the living room and grinned at the sight of Chucho snoozing in his recliner, head tilted back and mouth hanging open. 

It was rare, but you’d seen Javi the same way before, the man worn out from a long day of working on the property and catching a few minutes of sleep whenever - and wherever - he could. They’re so similar. 

Turning back to the kitchen you carefully opened a cupboard and pulled out two plastic cups, carrying them to the freezer and scooping ice into one of them. You glanced out the window as you poured half of the cubes into the other, Javi still visible, even though he’d moved further away. 

Pouring the tea, you made sure to let two of the lemon slices slip into his cup before you set the pitcher back onto the counter. 

You’d kissed him goodbye that morning just as the sun came up, the man wanting to get an early start on replacing the fence right outside the house. But to you, anything before 7 am was entirely too early to get out of bed - so he’d left you there, tangled in the sheets for a few more hours of sleep on your day off. 

He hadn’t even come in for lunch, and you hoped that meant he’d taken something to eat with him. But he probably didn’t. That made you frown, and before you lifted the iced tea from the counter to head outside, you grabbed a paper towel and one of the muffins you’d made that morning, wrapping it loosely. 

It was hot out - the change in temperature between the air conditioning inside and the late summer air was significant, and you immediately understood why Javi was so sweaty. Not that he’d stop to think about it. He was used to heat and humidity, years spent in Laredo and Colombia making sticky air almost second nature to him, but it was a different story for you. 

Taking a deep breath and wrinkling your nose at how heavy the air was, you cut across the yard and toward Javi, eyeing him with each step. 

He was using a fence post digger, legs spread wide to give himself the best leverage as he thrust it repeatedly into the ground, carving through the hard-packed dirt. You stopped walking, giving yourself a few minutes to appreciate the view - his shoulders rising and falling, the muscles in his back flexing, beads of sweat gathered on the back of his neck. And he was grunting, too, the sound muffled with his back toward you, but you heard it nonetheless. 

“I didn’t know that staying here overnight got me a show, too.” Clearing your throat and raising your voice, you stepped forward again, a grin splitting your lips. “Damn, Javier.” 

With one final grunt, he planted the tool in the ground, turning his head to look at you. “Did you come out here just to give me shit?” You saw the smirk on his lips, one side of his mouth rising briefly. “Or is there a reason you willingly left the air conditioning?”

“I come bearing gifts.” You reached him and then continued walking, placing yourself in front of the man and holding up one hand - the muffin and tea on full display. “Thought you might be thirsty.” 

You couldn’t see his eyes - they were hidden behind the lenses of his aviators, but you did see the man’s lips part in surprise at your revelation. “For me?” He pulled his gloves off one at a time, dropping them to the ground and then wiping his his hands on his jeans before he reached for what you held. 

His fingers brushed yours when he took the cup, raising it to his lips and taking a long drink, head tilted back. You watched his throat work - Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed, and didn’t even try to disguise your hum of approval at the sight. He knows I’m staring anyway. Javi lowered the cup and licked his lips, sighing. “I baked these this morning when I woke up. You had everything I needed, and I figured you and Pop wouldn’t mind.” 

“Blueberry?” You nodded as Javi reached for you again, grabbing the muffin and napkin. “I didn’t eat lunch today. Fuckin’ forgot, and -”

“I figured.” Giving him a smile, you sipped your tea, closing your eyes as the icy liquid traveled down your throat. “You didn’t come in. And unless you grabbed somethin’ on your way out…” You shrugged, taking another drink. “You needed a break. I didn’t want you to keel over out here. I don’t think I’m strong enough to drag you into your truck to get you to the hospital.” 

He laughed at that, the sound startling you somewhat. Javier was getting better at displaying his emotions the longer he was home, but laughter was still not as common as you would have liked it to be. He’ll get there. It’s only been a little while. Chewing and swallowing, he shrugged.  “I remembered water. Drank about a gallon of that already today. And I’d pay good money to see you try and get me into that truck.”

“I’m sure you would.” Glancing over your shoulder, you took a few steps backward and leaned against the old fence, cocking your head to the side. “Truth is, I’d probably just dump a bucket of cold water on you and hope it woke you up enough to get you on your feet.” He snorted, finishing the muffin and washing it down with a large gulp of the tea. 

“That sounds about right.” He swallowed a final time and then tilted the cup back up and toward his lips, sucking an ice cube between them before he tossed the remaining ones to the side and then stuffed the napkin into the empty cup. “Thank you. I needed that.” 

“I know.” He sidled up next to you and set the container down atop a fence post, the man’s skin hot against your bare arm. “How much longer are you going to be out here today?” 

“Couple hours maybe. I’m gonna finish this section. But it’s too damn hot to keep going until sundown.” You nodded in agreement, eyeing the work he’d done - and the neat row of holes waiting for new fence posts. “I’ll finish tomorrow. It’s supposed to rain on Friday, so it has to be done before then.” 

Humming in agreement, you leaned your head against his shoulder and closed your eyes, inhaling. 

He was sweaty, sure, but that was accompanied by other things too - dirt and dust, the faint scent of sun-baked laundry detergent, dry grass that he’d dug up with each use of the digger. It’s got to be so much different for him after so many years with the DEA. “Can I take you out for a real dinner tonight, Peña?” Turning your head further, you kissed his shoulder, the material of his t-shirt warm and damp. “Burger and fries in town? Maybe a milkshake? If you’re going to forget to eat, it’s the least I can do.” 

He didn’t reply right away but when he did, he murmured your name, reaching up and removing his sunglasses to tuck them into the collar of his shirt. “We can go out to dinner.” Javier stepped in front of you, leaning in and using both hands to grip the fence on either side of your body. “But there’s no way in Hell you’re paying.” 

You started to laugh but before the sound even left your lips, he was kissing you, the press of the man’s mouth gentle at first and then more insistent. You let your tea drop to the ground and reached for him, fingers sliding through his damp hair and scratching along his scalp. When Javier deepened the kiss, you gasped at the lingering chill on his tongue from the ice - leaning in even closer in response. 

He was in no hurry to let you go, the man inhaling through his nose in an attempt to prolong the kiss. But you pulled back with a gasp, mouth hanging open in shock as you stared at him. “Thought you had work to finish.” Letting out a shaky breath as you settled your hands on the front of his shoulders, you closed your eyes. “That fence isn’t gonna build itself.” He hummed, leaning back in and trailing his lips over your cheek and then pressing another kiss just in front of your ear. 

“Someone told me I needed a break, so I’m taking one now.” He straightened up, letting go of the fence and reaching up to swipe at the back of his neck, your hands falling away from his body. “Give me another hour or two. I’ll take a shower and then we can go.” 

“Alright.” He backed away and you let yourself stare at him again, a smile curving your lips upward. “But let me know when you’re going in for that shower, and I’ll join you.” 

The surprise on his face was well worth it, his eyebrows shooting up and his mouth falling open at the suggestion - but you saw the gleam in his eyes, the deep brown highlighted by the sunlight, and you grinned, too, as you reached for both cups, stacking them and turning on your heel to head for the house. 

You weren’t surprised when only a few seconds later, you heard his footsteps behind you, followed by the press of his hand to your back. Got you, Peña. You’re predictable but I like it. 

“On second thought, I think I’ve done enough with this fence for the day.” 

— 

[droplet-dread-cat]

Not a single moment goes by where I don't think about Sampo "volunteering" at Belobog's museum

like, listen... he has the (technically second, since he has 93 points and a random NPC has 94 but still) highest tour duration and the actual highest education value stats but absolutely zero visitor appeal

this means whenever he's uh... "helping out" (aka being forced to work by the Trailblazer) he's constantly side-eyed and sneered at and just generally avoided but when someone accidentally catches wind of how interesting his tour actually is, they can't help but stay and listen as Sampo tells them about the history of, idk, art theft linked to the paintings that are currently displayed on the wall and I feel like they don't even notice for just how long they've listened before Sampo declares the tour's end

or maybe the tours are all equally long so the tour duration stat just states how many hours in a month that character is volunteering - which I'd honestly prefer in that case, since it'd mean Sampo's basically working an entire job at the museum

it's just... aaaaah, it's such a great starting point for an AU

Museum Tourguide!Sampo AU

imagine the Trailblazer hiring both Sampo and Gepard (who btw has the second highest education value out of the non-NPC characters behind Sampo, the second highest appeal at 83 points right behind the Supreme Guardian herself who has 85, but a tour duration of 5) for the art section of the museum

first of all Gepard constantly looks like he's swallowed a lemon when he's catching sight of Sampo just casually working.

secondly, this is a great set-up. not even from a shipping perspective. there'd be an inevitable rivalry of knowledge between the two - imagine they're working five metres apart from each other and when people come to Gepard for questions (let's be real, no-one goes to Mr. Cold Feet for answers), Sampo will just shout it over the heads of the visitors and Gepard, once again, will be livid af. like it's growing into a game of who can answer the fastest and they oftentimes have disputes, since Gepard obviously only knows the official stories and not the dirty bits that Sampo can bring to light.

in any case, apart from the work dynamic with Gepard, Sampo also has to interact with Uldan, this no-nonsense gramps who was instructed by the Trailblazer to "fend off Sampo's wandering fingers" - every time Sampo tries to pickpocket someone, Uldan will play up the senile grandpa act and do a whole bit where he acts like Sampo's his actual (grand)son, making it virtually impossible for Sampo to commit any crimes within his vicinity because Uldan will just scold him super loud, like "I didn't raise you like that, young man!"

and the thing is. Sampo is good at this whole volunteer thing. he excels at it, in fact, and I feel like with every tour he guides he enjoys it more and the people, too, grow to appreciate him more the longer he works at the museum. we all know where this is headed, right? there comes a point in time where Sampo doesn't follow a lead or initiate contact with a potential client and instead heads to the museum to cover a shift. I'm definitely not saying he gives up on his ways entirely but in my mind he inevitably becomes an actual staff member. sooner or later, Uldan's going to ask him to stay permanently and I mean, come on, the angst potential? the questioning of morals and identity? the realization that he wants to work a legitimate job? come oooooon

[lightandheatao3]

The Bunker - Criminal Minds

Chapter 3: The Fever

Summary: Spencer Reid wakes up in a locked bunker to find half the current BAU and two of its departed members unconscious on the floor. The old team is back together but the reunion is not what any of them would have wished for. An Unsub from their past has decided it's time they all stop keeping secrets, even if it means exposing them by force.

Hotch and Derek have been pulled back into a world they tried to escape. Emily, Rossi, and JJ are doing their best to keep it together. Spencer is falling apart.

AKA a found family is reunited and forced to go through the most nightmarish version of family therapy imaginable.

Set months after the end of Criminal Minds: Evolution. Evolution referenced, but not necessary to understand the story.

Chapter Summary: Spencer is getting sick and it’s not a pleasant time for anyone.

Read chapter 3 on AO3 or under the cut. All comments and reblogs are extremely appreciated <3

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

97 days ago he had run a little experiment: see how long he could last before the pain became intolerable. He had made it 25 hours and 38 minutes before he called his dealer. He didn’t really know why he did it, as he had no real intention of getting clean. Just to be aware of his limitations? To torture himself? To remind himself how unbearable life was sober?

It didn’t really matter.

It had, however, continued to be a useful metric for gauging time in the bunker. Unfortunately, they were now headed into uncharted territory. The last time he had gone through full withdrawal was years earlier. He hadn’t been using as heavily or for as long a period as he had been this time, so all he could really say for certain is that as bad as it had been before, it would be worse now.

The lights had not so much as dimmed for a second. He wondered if she was ever going to switch them off or if they were to live in a single, perpetual day as long as they were there. At least in prison he’d had lights out and his own cell.

She’d given them one more bag of fruit about half an hour ago. So, a bag of fruit every 12 hours or so was the feeding schedule thus far.

“At least we won’t get scurvy,” mumbled Rossi, begrudgingly downing his last lemon wedge.

“We need medical supplies!” yelled Derek, looking to the camera. “He’s already sick and it’s going to get worse! If you want us to learn whatever lesson you’re trying to teach, you have to keep us alive long enough to understand it!”

“It’s fine, Derek,” muttered Spencer, who shivered violently on his thin foam mattress on the floor with his head in JJ’s lap. “Don’t waste your energy.”

Derek looked up at the camera and glared one last time, then knelt down beside Spencer, stroking a hand over his cheek. The touch distracted him from his crawling skin.

“You just have to make it through a few days of this Spence, then it gets better,” reassured Emily.

“I know,” he said. “I wish she would turn down the lights, at least,” he grumbled.

Hotch had been silent for a long while, sitting alone on the opposite side of the room. Rossi walked over to him and sat down beside him. He spoke with Hotch in low tones, eventually managing to coax him into conversation. Spencer could make out the words ‘Elias Voit,’ said by Hotch in a questioning tone. They were quiet enough and far enough away that Spencer couldn’t properly follow the conversation, but the murmur of the low voices was soothing.

He was glad not to listen. He didn’t envy Hotch having to learn about what Voit had done to Rossi while he wasn't there to help. He’d been on the other side of that conversation.

“It’s too hot in here,” he whined, eyes shut tight against the fluorescents, still shivering despite his burning skin.

JJ stroked her hand down his arm. “You have a fever.”

He pushed himself up for a moment, Derek reaching out an arm to stabilize him. He ripped his button down pajama shirt off leaving only a singlet underneath. He immediately curled back up on JJ’s lap, exhausted by the effort.

It took him a moment to notice the murmur across the room had ceased and JJ’s hand had stilled. He cracked an eye open.

They were all staring at him like he’d just told them there was a bomb in the room. “What?” he asked, pushing himself clumsily back up to a sitting position, letting the wall behind him take his full weight.

JJ stared at him helplessly. Emily had a hand covering her mouth. Even Rossi and Hotch across the room seemed to be leaning forward, locked on him.

“Jesus, Spencer,” said Derek, too dumb struck to bother with the usual epithets.

Spencer followed his gaze.

He might have vomited when he realized what they were all looking at if his stomach wasn’t already completely emptied out an hour ago.

He crossed his arms over his chest. “It’s not as bad as it looks,” he said, barely above a whisper.

“It looks like you’re trying to slowly kill yourself,” said Derek bluntly.

“I can’t remember the last time I saw you in short sleeves,” said JJ. “How did I not notice that?”

Spencer reached down to grab his shirt discarded only a moment ago, pulling it back on. One last flash of his forearms, both of which were littered with track marks, fresh, healing, and long since scarred over.

“No, Spence, you don’t have to do that,” said Emily quickly. “You should be as comfortable as you can be right now.”

“She’s right,” said Derek, shaking his head as if to snap himself out of a thought. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m sorry. It’s not like we didn’t know.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he mumbled. “I understand.”

“I need a minute,” said JJ quietly, getting up and walking quickly to the bathroom.

Spencer watched her go helplessly. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Emily looking at him sympathetically. He stared up at the camera.

“Is this what you want?” he asked. “Are you getting what you need?”

The light blinked its non-response.

He sighed, leaning his head back against the wall, pulling his shirt tighter around him, in part to ensure his arms stayed hidden, in part because the burning was starting to turn to an unbearable chill. Derek put an arm around him and he leaned into it.

Rossi and Hotch went back to their whispered conversation.

When JJ emerged a considerable time later, her eyes were red rimmed and swollen.

“I’m sorry,” he said, looking up at her. “I’m sorry for putting you through this.”

She smiled wetly at him, taking a seat on his other side and throwing her arm around him to join Derek’s.

“It wasn’t about you,” she told him. “Well... it was, but not completely. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m currently locked in a bunker with no idea if my kids are safe,” she sniffed. "It's got me a little emotional for some reason."

He squeezed her hand. “They’re safe. I know they are.”

“Yeah, big brain? How do you know?” she teased, tears spilling softly.

“I just do.”

She hugged him tight. When she pulled away she huffed a laugh. “It’s nice to have a space with a little privacy, but it’s oddly considerate of her to put a door on the bathroom, right? Seems thematically inappropriate for someone so obsessed with exposing people.”

He laughed too. “Let’s not question that too much,” he said. “We wouldn’t want to give her ideas.”

JJ sniffed again, head lolling gently into Spencer’s shoulder. Her eyes drooped.

“You should all get some sleep,” said Emily softly. Then, louder to the whole room, “We’ve been here at least a day and we can’t keep pushing through forever. I don’t like the idea of all of us being asleep at once, and someone needs to be awake for Spencer anyway. I’ll stay up for now, but everyone else should try to get a few hours.”

“I’ll stay up too,” said Hotch from across the room. Emily nodded.

Derek went to open his mouth, presumably to volunteer, but Emily cut him off. “It doesn’t work if we all stay awake,” she said with a hint of amusement. “I know nobody wants to sleep, but it has to happen eventually. Hotch and I will get some rest when you’re awake,” she promised.

Derek begrudgingly said, “Fair enough.”

They all spent a bit of time rearranging the room. They put the mattresses on the side furthest from the door, but left Spencer’s mattress on the opposite side of the room. It was the best they could do to try and have a quiet zone for sleeping and to keep Spencer where he could be watched.

He wanted to protest, hating that they were arranging everything around him. Unfortunately, having to duck out halfway through the process to hunch over the toilet and clear out the last dregs of bile in his stomach undercut any argument he could have made.

Sleep did not come easily to JJ, Derek and Rossi. Despite the extreme exhaustion they must all be feeling, they each tossed and turned in fits and starts for what seemed like hours.

Emily and Hotch sat quietly with Spencer, not speaking so as to not disturb the others. They took turns getting up to pace back and forth for a while, wearing only socks to dampen the noise. Probably keeping moving to force themselves to stay awake.

Spencer wished he could sleep. He tried closing his eyes. Tried curling up and stretching out, or lying perfectly still for all of 5 seconds at a time before the bugs crawling over every inch of his skin demanded to be scratched at.

No matter what he did, he couldn’t seem to find unconsciousness. His vision swam and his awareness waned, but he found no relief.

Why were they torturing him?

There were hands touching him, trying to rip his skin off. He batted at them and tried to scramble away, but they pulled him back.

Emily!

It was Emily whispering something in his ear. Thank God she was there.

She would keep him safe.

The bugs kept crawling on him but she was there. They would bite but she wouldn't let them tear his flesh too deeply.

Voices drifted in from above him and he felt a gentle stroking through his hair. He was waking up, which means he had fallen asleep after all.

He was awake and he was boiling alive.

“I wish I could have seen it,” came Hotch’s whispered voice with an unexpected laugh.

Emily laughed back, too loud, before Hotch hushed her. “Trust me, you don’t. He must have been the dumbest Unsub we ever dealt with. I’m sure the whole thing would have gone much smoother if you were still at the helm.”

“Because everything was so carefree when I was running the BAU,” said Hotch sarcastically.

Emily paused. “Maybe not, but that’s the job. None if it was your fault. You were a great leader, Hotch. We miss you.”

“You left first,” he pointed out.

“The job, not the team,” she countered. “Besides, I came back.”

“They’re damn lucky you did.”

Neither of them spoke for a while. He tried to tell them he was awake but his eyes and mouth were shut with glue. It was sticky and cloying and his body was too heavy to fight it.

“Doesn’t feel like I’m doing a very good job,” said Emily, sounding distant.

“Do you think if we get out of here-”

“When,” interrupted Emily.

“Do you think he’ll stay clean?”

A beat. “I don’t know. I hope so,” she said, pained.

Hotch sighed. “What the hell happened to him after I left?”

He felt a hand softly stroke his bare arm. Was it her or was it Hotch?

He didn’t remember taking his shirt off again.

They could see. They could see and it disgusted them. He wrapped his arms tighter into himself.

“A lot.” She sounded how people sound when they’re speaking through an injury, trying to pretend they aren’t in pain. “How could I miss this for so long?”

“It’s sounds like you haven’t seen him in person for a while.”

“Exactly. I should have known something was wrong,” she insisted. “I don’t know what triggered this. What if he doesn’t want to stop?”

She flinched when he mumbled “Not your fault.” It came out garbled and slurred.

“Hi, Spence,” she whispered, full of love. “You’ve been in and out for a while. You’re getting dehydrated. Can you try and drink some water?”

He cracked his eyes open, pulling back against the light. He tried to sit up but didn’t have the strength to support his own weight, so he just rolled onto his back instead. “It’s not your fault,” he repeated in case she hadn’t understood him. “I don’t want to be fixed,” he said, every word like gravel in his throat.

Her’s and Hotch’s faces swam in his vision. He lolled his head to the side and saw the sleeping forms of his other friends.

“You can’t go on like this, Spence,” she said mournfully, cradling his head in her lap. “You’ll die.”

The bugs were back, crawling all over him. He could actually see them this time. They flew around the periphery of his vision like dark stars. “We’re all going to die,” he said, knowing in his heart it was true. They were never making it out of this bunker.

“We’re not going to die,” said Hotch’s voice from a million miles away. “I won’t let it happen.”

He couldn’t look away from Emily. One of the bugs crawled down her cheek. He reached out a shaking hand and brushed it away. It dissolved into water. More and more came, wetting his thumb as he wiped them away. They were crawling out of her eyes, marching single file down to her chin. “I already died,” he said. It happened on the floor of a cabin in Georgia. “Tobias brought me back, but he left a piece behind. It’s okay though,” he breathed. “It’s okay. He showed me what to put there instead.”

If he could just explain it right, maybe they could understand.

His peripheral vision went dark and he fell into a pit of fire ants. They bit every inch of his skin, over and over and over.

“You died too…” Tears stung his eyes like acid. He wished she was there to comfort him but he was alone again. “I went to your funeral.” He was alone in the bunker. They left without him. Why would they do that?

Lights flashed in the darkness and they pierced him like daggers. Hands grasped at his clothes, at his body, at his mind. He recoiled from the touch, but it kept coming.

Somewhere nearby was a needle that could get him out of this hell. He searched for it and screamed for it and cast out blindly and begged.

It never came.

Nobody came to save him.

An eternity passed.

Then…

Awake.

He cracked an eye open, groaning at the stupid motherfucking goddamn fluorescent lights. He could tear those things from the roof with his bare fucking hands at this point.

“Jesus, kid. Tell us how you really feel,” said Rossi from somewhere behind him.

Had he said that out loud?

“Spencer!” yelped JJ. “You’re awake! Emily, Hotch, get up, he’s awake! Like, actually conscious!”

“Why are you yelling?” rasped Spencer, dragging himself to sit back against the wall and covering his eyes with his hands. “I feel like I’m going to puke.”

When he opened his eyes, the entire team was gathered around him. Derek pulled him into a hug. “Oh thank God,” he heard from Emily.

He recoiled. There was too much happening at once and every part of him hurt. “Guys! Stop touching me! I’m sorry, but stop!”

They all backed away, hands raised. “Sorry,” said JJ. “We’re all just relieved.”

He looked at them all. Really looked.

Each one of them had greasy hair, rumpled clothes, dark circles under their eyes. Everyone had discarded their shoes and jackets in a corner, standing in various degrees of undress and rumpled underclothes. Hotch, Rossi, and Derek had thick layers of unkempt stubble.

“You all look like shit.”

A few of them cracked a smile. Rossi scoffed. “You’re one to talk.”

There was a small wicker basket that seemed to contain some things, he wasn’t sure what. But the existence of any kind of new item was significant, given the circumstances.

“What happened?” he asked, then cleared his throat. His mouth felt like it was filled with ash. “How long was I out?”

Emily looked at him sympathetically. “Your fever spiked about two days ago. At least, we think it was two days. It got pretty intense for a while. You were delirious,” she said carefully. He could only imagine what a nightmare he’d been to deal with. He didn’t particularly want the details and was glad when she glossed over it. “The fever finally broke. You’ll probably still have acute symptoms for the next couple of days, but you’re through the worst of it.”

“The Unsub gave us some supplies,” said Rossi, nodding towards the basket. “I guess she realized she didn’t actually want any of us to die, at least not yet. We kept yelling out, asking for medical supplies. All we got was aspirin, but it was enough to help bring the fever down. We have a few left. Afraid that’s all we can give you for the pain.”

“How compassionate of her,” said Spencer, looking mistrustfully at the basket.

“We also got soap,” said Derek, almost excitedly. How simple life’s pleasures became when you were living in captivity. “So at least we can wash off in the sink and clean our clothes. It’s better than nothing.”

“Is that a hint?” joked Spencer.

“Just figured you’re probably dreaming of a shower by now,” he smirked.

They were all looking at him with such relief. Hotch was not lingering behind the group like he had been before. He smiled warmly at Spencer when their gaze met. It was a soft look that was incongruent with his memories of the man.

Not that Hotch was never soft, but that he was rarely soft in that way with the team.

“Sorry for putting you through that,” he said guiltily.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” said JJ. “You’re not the one who locked us up down here.”

“Still,” he said. Then; “Have we received anymore notes?”

“Not yet,” said Emily. “I’m not surprised. She wouldn’t have been able to get us to care about much else while you were so sick. She strikes me as someone who wants a high degree of control over when and how we respond to things.”

He nodded. It made sense. “I need some water,” he said, trying to push himself up to go drink from the bathroom tap. He made it halfway to standing before he collapsed again. Derek leapt forward to fling an arm around him and guide him to the ground gently.

“You’ll be glad to know that one of the items in our little gift basket was a cup,” said JJ. She picked something up out of the basket and walked to the bathroom, emerging a moment later.

She handed Spencer a small, flimsy plastic cup of water, which he drank thirstily. Emily took the cup once he was done and set it aside.

“How’s the nausea?” she asked. “We saved you some fruit. It’s still only been fruit. I could kill for a pizza or burger or just, like, a whole roast pig… God I miss protein. I'd settle for a can of baked beans at this point.”

He evaluated the sensations he was currently feeling, isolating the sickness in his stomach from the aching and itching of the rest of his body. “I’ll try to eat, but no promises it stays down. Is she still only doing drops once every 12 hours?”

“It’s hard to keep track of time,” said Hotch, finally contributing, “but that seems to be the case. Aside from the inevitable deficiencies of an all fruit diet, she doesn’t seem to be trying to starve us. There’s always enough fruit for us all to eat multiple pieces, and we can portion out our meals across the 12 hours. We’ve been speculating that the restrictive schedule might have more to do with her than it does with us. She may have other commitments, potentially even shift work. Or maybe this bunker is located remotely and she has to commute. It’s hard to say.”

“Huh,” he said vaguely, mind still foggy. He shook his head to clear it.

Emily frowned at him. “You should try and get some more sleep,” she said, gesturing for the others to give him some space. They all did. “I think you’re out of danger, but you’re still not well. You need to rest.”

He wanted to argue, but he was already drooping heavily towards the mattress. “Just wake me up if anything happens,” he requested.

She nodded. He lay down curling up on his side, completely wiped out by the interaction. As he brought his arm up to rest under his head, he was caught off guard by the bare skin. He was still only wearing his singlet, leaving his arms exposed.

He tried not to look too closely most of the time. He’d complete the ritual of getting high without lingering too long on the sobering visual.

His arms were a mess. The most recent track marks were scabbing over, making it look even worse than it had just days ago. He loathed that they could see it. That they could see him.

He loathed even more that the only thing on his mind as he drifted to sleep was how desperately he wanted to shoot up.

[haunted-planes]

Partner in Crime

[simslegacy5083]

Not So Berry (Straud Descendants) Gen 9

Today's (8/18/2024) Episode: Family Reunion

Luigi’s gaming project had officially become Neomi’s day job, and her new flexible schedule let her visit her island friends easier than ever.

“Thanks again for offering to host Skye’s birthday party, Isra”, she said as they enjoyed the warm autumn sunshine on Breanne’s deck. “Are you sure its still no trouble with your sister coming for a visit? You’ve got to be busy preparing the space for Jade, and we could find another nearby venue.”

“I’m positive” Isra smiled “She’s actually going to stay with Par so I have less to prepare than I might. My old room became the guest bedroom, and we all agreed that would be more comfortable for Jade than sleeping on a pullout bed and sharing a room with a toddler!”

She pushed back her chair. “On that note however, I better get going. She’s supposed to be arriving in about an hour and I don’t want to be late!”

Isra wished her friends goodbye and headed out. She’d seen photos of her sister post transition, so she knew what to expect, but in a very real sense she’d soon be meeting a different sim than the one she’d met so long ago “Well, so long ago for me anyway” she chuckled “Jade’s still a teenager!”

She’d only been waiting a few minutes when a young sim with long, flaming red hair exited the teleporter station and engulfed her in an eager hug.

“Its so great to see you!” she finally said when she was released “You look lovely.” Jade blushed at the praise.

“Thanks. I wasn’t sure what to wear, but then my sister Lulu took over and suddenly I didn’t have much say in the matter! I’ll tell her it was a hit.”

“So…” Isra continued “I figured we’d head to The Harbor first. Once you’ve had time to settle in Rhys is going to meet us at the park and we can introduce you to the kids. That sound good?” Her half-sister was clearly nervous to see her birth parent and niblings but nodded excitedly.

As they walked to the teleporter Jade pulled out her phone. “Do you think they’ll like this video of a llama who’s best friends with a cat?”

Jade’s palms were sweating as she and her sister exited the elevator at Wren’s apartment building. Isra, who had been keeping an eye on her sibling, gently squeezed her hand. She didn’t let go until they got to the door of Wren’s apartment, knocking and calling out “Par – we’re here!”

The door was flung open so quickly, Isra was sure her parent had been waiting just on the other side of it. For a moment she and Jade just stood there, staring at each other. Wren finally broke the silence “Both my girls, here together.” the tears in her eyes mirrored those in her firstborn’s. “Come in!”

Once they were all inside Jade broke the ice. “I love your hoodie.” Wren grinned, holding out her arms to model it.

“I saw it in a store window and just knew you’d appreciate the lemons!” The older sim then sighed with happy surprise as she found herself wrapped in a tight embrace.

“That’s the picture we took during Isra’s visit!” Jade exclaimed, staring at the large framed photo on the wall. “It is indeed” her par smiled “and while you’re here we’ll be sure to get some new ones for you to bring back home with you.”

“So, this is the room I grew up in,” Isra said as they entered the cozy space where Jade would be sleeping, before her par interrupted.

“There’s some apple juice and freeze-dried bananas on the nightstand in case you get hungry. The kind you liked when you were small since I don’t know what your favorite snacks are these days. The bed should be super comfy; I bought pure cotton sheets in case you were allergic to synthetics.”

Jade put a soothing hand on her par’s shoulder, arresting her monologue. “Everything looks great Par. That’s still my favorite brand of apple juice, mom always buys it just for me.” She looked at Isra. “Can I bring some of those nana nummies to bribe your kids into liking Auntie Jade?”

“Sure!” Isra chuckled, “I think they’ll appreciate that. So, are we ready to go?”

The others nodded their agreement, and the group headed back out to meet Rhys and the kids for dinner in the park.

For those that don't know, Wren was originally Anna from The Lemon Legacy series written by Bunbeeplays over on Twitter.

The story of Wren's (nee Anna) exodus to my save was a dark tale involving her reckless husband Calvin. He wronged a very powerful and dangerous man with some unwise investment decisions. Not safe from that sims vengeance anywhere in their homeland, in desperation the couple turned to a dark magic that would send them worlds away, with no clear path to follow.

The danger and uncertainty inherent in the process prompted them to leave their young son Jaden in the care of friends.

Upon arrival in my save the LGBTQIA+ mod had Anna questioning her gender identity and she discovered she was non-binary. They divorced Calvin and had another baby, Isra, on their own using IVF. Quite recently in bunbeeplays save Jaden came to the realization that they were transgender and came out as Jade.

View The Full Story of My Not So Berry Challenge Here

[ellocat-poemyourpainaway]

I took my daughter back to school today.

My heart split open

Like the veil rent in two

And out spilled buried dreams; the guilt of a job badly done; and so, so much love.

Love so rich pure and true, it ran blue. Not red.

“My children all

Write poetry.”

I remember crying to Kristina that she deserved better than me one wine tipsy night in her college town, in the back room of a little apartment loft,

Downtown by the greasy pizza place.

She had driven down with her friend and snatched me up to be with her, I’d had my heart broken, and she didn’t want me to be alone. She is thoughtful and generous like that.

A sensitive caring soul.

“You deserved better than me”

I sobbed.

She’d just cuddled and hushed me-

An actual angel.

I’d wanted to put her up for adoption, I’d wanted her to have more than what I could give her. But I couldn’t do it.

I was selfish.

I couldn’t give up my baby.

It haunts me. To this day.

The ghost of the life I thought she deserved.

“I’m sorry I didn’t protect you from him.”

Sorry to all my children. Even to the one that was me.

“My children are all kind.”

I remember her holding my head on the stairs, patting my hair while I cried,

And saying

“Don’t worry mommy, it’ll be ok”

She was only three.

“My children are all smart.”

I remember Naomi telling us she wanted to be a police officer when she grew up, so she could keep her dad out of trouble.

“My children are all free spirits and free thinkers”

I remember laughing at her laughing and

So she’d laugh at me laughing, and we’d just be on the ground in tears holding each other and laughing,

Hysterically, at nothing.

“My children are all hard working.”

We never had enough money, our furniture is all donated or salvaged. We never had enough of anything. So they make sure they do now.

“My children are all grateful.”

Evan got a job in high school, just to buy his own food,

So he wouldn’t have to feel guilty at the cost of my grocery bill.

He appreciates every little thing you do for him. He is the sweetest most understanding boy.

“My children are all compassionate.”

They may look like money, but they know what poor feels like, In their bones,

In their teeth actually.

12 root canals- and we had to get Medicaid and go to the cheap dentist, an hour away, just so I could afford to fix their teeth.

Just so they could sleep pain free.

The pain would keep them up at night.

We’d drive to the poor part of the city, With homeless people canvassing the parking lot for loose change.

There’d be lines of people who looked like washing their clothes was a hardship, let alone finding any.

My children would never make anyone feel small.

They know the real ants are bullies that play on superficial mechanisms like money or looks to put anyone under their thumb.

“My children are savvy to the cons of classist group think meritocracy.”

They know that people are people and deserving of humanity.

They are savvy to a lot of things they shouldn’t be.

They watched their clean cut, athletic, good looking father manipulate and use everyone around him.

Because he looked like money,

People were nice to him.

But he wasn’t nice.

Not to anyone -not nice where it matters.

Not nice on the inside.

Oh-he had great manners,

Like talking to crème brûlée or a Lemon meringue pie.

He was what my mother called “a sliver tongued devil”

But he was ugly and broken on the inside.

He used, bullied, lied.

And people treated him like a prince.

“My children are wise and shrewd,

Robbed of the luxury of naivety.”

They’ve been baptized in reality and their eyes, no longer blind, can see

With the clarity an eagle would envy.

My children shouldn’t have to be so vividly present and familiar with the ugliness in human nature,

But “my children are resilient and rich in ways most people can never be.”

They’re rich in kindness, compassion awareness, forgiveness.

They’re the most tolerant and forgiving people I know.

They even forgive and tolerate me.

I’m rich

because they love me.

[deputygonebye]

@florrentine asked: ❛ you’re welcome to stay, if you want. ❜

Walls of white decorated in floral, blues and ivories, anthers colored to the brightest of yellows, a field of flowers and almost rustic sensibilities, Emilia's home was cozy. Hung picture frames displayed sketches behind their glass; pencilwork in black, watercolors in orange, from their canvases in an attention grabbing spectacle. Wooden stools centered around a kitchen island, a pot on the stovetop about to whistle, the signal that tea had been finished. Water in small cup, bronze around the top in delicate trim, pastel peach from handle to base. Shane's portion of the homemade brew. Warm to the touch - somewhat bitter to the taste without the addition of sugar or honey - a delicacy come straight from the isle, held within the hands of the enemy, an American satisfied in thirst. Unlike the coolness he was used to - tea on Sunday afternoons, filled to the top of the pitcher with ice and lemon - comforted, nonetheless.

Dressed in his best, jeans that were stained only around the calves, button down cuffed at the elbow, the first three buttons left undone, Shane meant nothing by his visit to Emilia. A simple get-together between neighbors - the soles of his brown combat boots dug into the floorboards, the hardwood of darkened craft, unlikely to move - the hour that Shane was allowed between fatherhood and Alexandria responsibility. Judith watched over by the others of his group, the strangers that grew to extended family, true family, it was meant only to be tea and nothing more. A quick break from the hustle and bustle; the pleasure of hot tea and biscuits, cookies, that smelled as good as they looked. Bound to be gobbled up as soon as they went from pan to plate, Emilia a dedicated hostess, her invitation an unexpected surprise. Sudden, but welcomed, irises of copper melted into puddles, made softer and tender.

"Aw, Em. That's real kind of you. I'd love to, but the boss has got me workin' overtime today. Somethin' about the kids - worried they've been messin' around the fence or somethin'. Gotta go check on it, maybe lay the law down, too." Shane smiled, closed mouth but with a boyish air, youthful and almost mischievous.

"Alright... just a few more minutes, then I really have to hit the road. Hey, thank you. This, it's been nice. I haven't had much of a chance to sit down and relax in, well, honest to God, forever. Tea's real good, too. Ain't never had it warm before - always had it chilled. Guess I've been missin' out, huh? You best come by my place this week, I'll make us some dinner. A little token of my appreciation, if you will, for bein' so nice to me. My little girl, she's a picky eater, so we might end up havin' pasta and sauce, again, but I promise, Ms. Emilia, it'll be worth the walk across the sidewalk. Shoot, I'll even make a dessert. I'll have Carol lend a hand - she's good in the kitchen - that way, it'll be guaranteed delicious."

[ngkiscool]

Next please

The weekly prompt of @flashfictionfridayofficial was FFF202 The Devil You Forgot

Fandom: Lucifer (Good Omens if you squint), 830 words, no cw

"Next please!" My station was empty, but no one approached it. On the one hand, if offered me a few seconds of relatively rest, but on the other hand, if forced me to shout. Can't be seen resting, not during the rush hour at the Higher Ground.

It was noon of a rather lovely day, finally a sunny day after a week of showers. People strolled in the street, couples shared brief kisses when they thought no one was looking, even the people with the really expensive suits walked a bit slower and enjoyed the rare weather.

Warm beams of sun filtered through the curtains and shed light on the coffee shop, colouring the place with picturesque shades. It also nearly blinded me unless I squinted, despite the many, many times I asked the manager to fix the curtains.

The queue was longer than I've seen in a long time, and not just because of the weather. As if the regular costumers weren't enough, there was a reinforcement – people from the comic con just around the corner.

All day long, I had to deal with costumers who gave me the most unusual names and throw a tantrum if I spelled their name wrong. Some, God forbid, had even asked me which costume they were wearing, and seemed genuinely hurt when I hadn't recognized which TV show it was from.

Honestly, I don't have anything against adult people who dress up as creatures who only exist in a fantasy world. Some of the costumes were pretty, and it was clear that making them required a lot of time and skills. But, just like I don't go around and show my latest sewing art to bus drivers, I don't pay too much attention to my clients' costumes. All I want from them is place a not complicated order and leave a big tip. Nothing more, nothing less.

"Next in line!" I called again, a bit louder this time, and it worked. A costumer approached me, and I started the usual drill of taking their order. Things went smoothly, or as smooth as can be expected when one orders coffee, and I started to relax. Maybe that costumer will act normal through our whole interaction, and won't demand me to guess what was his costume.

It was a good one, I'll give them that. The suit was expensive looking, but nothing a person of means can't find easily. The wings, thought, they looked almost real. They were white, and big, each feature moved separately, and the wings even moved in coordination with his shoulders. Even after seeing a parade of costumes all day long, they seemed special. Like I said, I'm not interested in cosplays myself, but as an artist (and yes, sewing is an art, thank-you-very-much) I can appreciate craftsmanship when I see one.

Usually, people love to get compliments on their costumes, but something vibed weird with this person, so I decided to refrain from commenting. The opportunity, thought, rose when he finished the order, and I asked for his name. The voice matched his outfit – silken, strong, and confident.

"Lucifer".

"I see you are really in the character, even the wings and everything!"

"In character?" A red glint shone in his eyes, gone before I had the chance to complain about the curtains. Maybe if the manages received complaints from customers, not just employees, he would do something about it. One can only hope.

"Yes, with the wings and everything. Very impressive, if you don't mind me saying. Are you participating in the cosplay contest? I'm sure you will win first place."

"Cosplay?"

The temperature in the coffee shop dropped suddenly, and I shivered despite being all hot from being near the oven. The air conditioner hadn't changed, and it didn't look like the other clients had noticed it. Weird.

"Never mind, it's been a long day. I'll just make the order, and here is a piece of lemon cake, on the house".

At last, the coffee was ready, the cake packaged and together napkin and utensils, the take-away bag was handed to him. Our fingers touched briefly, and I felt a chill running through my body, but it was very short. Long day indeed.

I turned to clean the coffee machine, and when I finished and turned to the till again, I was surprised to find a twenty note on it. It was unexpected for two reasons: firstly, it was quite a large sum, as usually people left a fiver or a tenner. Twenty was very rare. Secondly, and even more unusual, was the fact that I hadn't served any costumer in the past few minutes.

Anyway, as my experience at costumer service taught me not to question money, I took the note. Attached to it was a small, white feather, but that hadn't helped to explain how it got there.

Confused, I shook my head, and got back to my work. "Next please!"

[odoroussavourssweet]

Tauer Perfumes Golestan

Nose: Andy Tauer

Notes: ylang-ylang, bergamot, lemon; tuberose, jasmine, orange blossom, damask rose; ambergris, vanilla, patchouli, woods

Golestan opens with a rich, buttery, ambered pale-yellow scent, in Andy Tauer’s usual plush style with the hot breath of real ambergris beneath.

There are dense, honeyed, pollen-laden florals above — the orange blossom is especially prominent a few minutes in —but the overall primary impression is of golden slightly-sweet butteriness.

It’s a romantic, rich, emotional swelling chord of a scent, inspired (Tauer says) by a fantasy of Persian walled gardens.

Underneath, maybe an hour in, there’s a darker, boozier amber note that touches on masculine Oriental tropes (the sound of ice clinking in the scotch glass as you leave the sun-drenched garden to enter a dark wood-paneled study lined with leather-bound books.) This phase must be the “patchouli”, but it’s more about the warm-brown resinous trimmings that often accompany patchouli than the leaf itself.

I’ve never before encountered this particular combination of a buttery, orange-blossom-forward white floral over a dark amber, and I appreciate the originality. The overall effect is almost too rich for me — like pancakes with butter AND maple syrup — but it’s creative and it works.

And like almost all Tauer’s work, it’s well-crafted real-deal perfume, dense and rich while still giving a sense of space and inner structure.

Natural comparison points: Neela Vermeire Pichola is a similarly buttery orange blossom (the saffron smells almost like buttered popcorn) but it’s much sheerer and doesn’t have the amber-patchouli base. And there are lots of scents that are just the Dad’s-study amber-patchouli thing, if you’re into that — Jovoy Psychedelique is a particularly loud and luxurious example.