#Sevens had it too just to a lesser degree

[usmsgutterson]

We Could Leave The Christmas Lights Up Til January - S.R x reader

I am typing this authors note and feeling like the friend who's like "ITS CHRISTMAS" from the like. middle of the month forward when I'm actually the friend who reminds you how close it is to christmas or the new year bc I don't want to face that knowledge by myself and suffer well with others.

This was written as a through-the-years style fic. It'll have fifteen chapters which will correspond with the og fifteen seasons of criminal minds (I have not watched seasons sixteen or seventeen, please do not judge me lol) and three scenes per chapter, one set in November, one set on or around Christmas, and the last set at some point after it. The reader is also a fiber artist but if stuff relating to that comes up, I will make a note of whichever terms I need to.

Fic type - this is largely fluff!

Warnings - the reader in this has a slightly similar, but also somewhat dramatized version of my family dynamics bc I wrote this whenever the knit projects I was working on frustrated me and when writing the dynamics it just HAPPENED, but then I edited it so that the dynamics wouldn't hit SUPER HARD if I ever reread it. Otherwise, booze is mentioned a bit, and there is swearing present bc I apparently am incapable of writing a fic without dropping an f'bomb.

When you leave the office that night, it's half-past seven on a Friday in November. You and the rest of the team have the weekend off, and while Penelope and the others had gone out for drinks, you'd gotten back from a case in Miami that morning and had said no to the offer when she'd made it.

You had really just wanted to get home, if you were being honest. You told her you couldn't swing it because of plans already made with someone else, but Garcia didn't need to know that those plans were a glass of wine, Loops 'N Threads Classic Cotton and a crochet hook to work up some dishcloths in lieu of anything too expensive for your aunts christmas gift, or that the someone else you had plans with was your DVR so that you could catch up on the five episodes of Prison Break you'd missed because of the way that cases and work had been piling up.

She also didn't need to know that the wine your mother had given you would have a spot, or that after you were caught up with Prison Break you'd probably order and eat your way through an entire pizza from Antonios while watching a documentary about lemon sharks. Your Friday nights were your own, and even though you adored everyone on the team, you would seldom give up your Friday night ritual of doing a craft while watching whichever cable TV you needed to catch up on or whichever one the network of your choice had been running a marathon of, even if giving it up meant giving up dinner, drinks, and laughter amongst yourself and the rest of the team.

So, as you and Spencer are heading out—Spencer had declined Penelopes offer but hadn't specified his reasons as to why—he looks at you with a knowing sort of smile.

"Crocheting and Antonios?" he asks, quirking an eyebrow.

You nod once, lips pursing just a little while you mentally ready yourself for any oncoming judgement. "Mhm," you nod. "I have a bottle of red I wanna drink, so it'll be a tipsy crocheting night, I think."

"That sounds fun," he says. "Enjoy it."

"What're your plans for the night?" You ask. You've been with the team since six months after Spencer had joined up. You'd joined, under Hotch's wing, at the age of nineteen where Spencer had joined up under Gideons when he was twenty.

He shrugs. "I was thinking about calling my mom, seeing how she's doing," he says. "I try to call her at least once every so often and I do my best to write, but—it's just—"

"Maintaining those kinds of relationships isn't that easy," you nod. "I mean—my parents just live in my hometown so the circumstances are different, but I get it, even if it's to a lesser degree."

You don't really talk to your parents, and they don't really talk to you, and it's been that way since you went to the FBI Academy when you were eighteen. You came to DC after being hired by the BAU and they stayed in Maine, and things have been like that in the five years since you left the state.

"Your mom came around recently, right?"

You nod. "She was in town for a bit, but she came down while we were working on a case so I only got to see her a few times before she was heading back to Maine." She'd come up at the start of October, while you were working a case out of state, and she'd left six days after you'd returned from the case. In that time, you'd seen her at breakfast, lunch and dinner on three separate days. She'd left you the wine as a gift because she hated red and needed to pass it off, but you loved red wine so it was fine.

"Was it a good visit?"

"It was—well—it was fine," you laugh.

"That's the nicest way to put it?"

"Calling it fine is me being stellar," you laugh again. "Being kind, being gratiuitous, even. It was less than fine, but it could've been worse, and other visits of hers have been by miles."

Your relationship with your mother has been somewhat contentious since you were a teen, but she comes down once every few months and unless a case or something better comes up, you usually try to book Christmas off to spend it with your parents and sisters in Maine. This year, a bigger part of you than not is hoping that Christmas is disrupted by a case somewhere completely out of Maines reach, like Nevada or California or even the likes of Alaska, which has got to be some snowy hellstorm in the wintertime, though you can't say.

"You gonna go down for Christmas?" Spencer asks, laughing a little. He knows some of what your relationships with your family are like—knows that you and your mother have a difficult time finding common ground, knows that you and your father don't get along but have found some weird little middleground where you can exist without screaming at each other. He knows that you and your older sister are sort of friendly but only really mildly close, and that you and your other older sister don't talk often and see each other even less than the sparing conversations you have throughout the year—and he always looks at you kind of pitifully when your mother gets brought into the conversation, but there's been less and less pity as the years have passed, more sympathy.

"I don't want to," you laugh. "I really, really hope we get a case in Nevada or somewhere that even my mother wouldn't be able to justify asking me to drive down to Maine from. Like—I'd love it if we got a case in Alaska the day before Christmas Eve, honestly. I know it's not gonna happen, but—Christmas with them, my aunt, and my uncle? No. I can't subject myself to that without a whole lot of booze."

Spencer laughs, shakes his head a little bit. "You'll be fine," he says. "I won't hope that a case comes up at Christmas, but if one does, I'll buy you a victory tea."

"Why?"

"Because I know you love your family—you're hardwired to love them—but you hate Christmas with them, and I don't really like the thought of you being where you don't want to be because of family ties and guilt."

You laugh. "If it gets too dreary, promise you'll answer my call?"

"Yeah," Spencer nods. "Of course, but what if I call you first?"

"I will answer so quick," you laugh again, shrugging. "Seriously. Whether it's you or Hotch, I will take literally any excuse I can get to slip out from whichever room I'm in to the back porch just so I can talk to someone who isn't my aunt for a few minutes."

"Looking forward to that," Spencer says.

You smile, turning away as you do to hide it. It feels like an awesome ending to a mediocre day and you're grateful for that.

-

When your phone rings at five o'clock something along the lines of five weeks later, it's Christmas Eve. You've spent the last couple of hours alternating between cheap screw top rose and a jack and coke, occasionally swapping both options out for a hot chocolate that you spike with kahlua and a splash of baileys, and when your phone rings, the sound of it is a welcome reprieve.

You tuck a mug of boozed up hot cocoa into your right hand, answering the phone with your left as you dismiss yourself out to the back porch, standing amidst snow that's, by that point, a couple days old. A fresh coat is due to fall any day now, but by the time it does you'll probably already be back in DC.

"Hey," you greet. "How's Christmas on your end?"

"It's good," Spencer answers. "How is it on yours?"

"It's amazing."

"You've been drinking?"

"Jack Daniels, cheap rose, and the occasional spiked hot chocolate," you laugh a little. "It's making everyone more tolerable."

"Thats good," Spencer says. "Don't forget to drink water, though. It'll make you less hungover tomorrow morning."

"Yeah," you nod. "I've drank plenty of water—hangover headaches are fuckin' awful, and I don't feel like dealing with that tomorrow morning. A headache on top of dealing with my aunt? I couldn't put myself through that kind of torture."

"How've things been with you and your mom?"

"So far I haven't done anything to piss her off yet, which is surprising," you laugh. "Normally she's leaping down my throat the second I do something like use a tone that she thinks is amiss or defend my dad where she doesn't agree with him. I'll say something stupid and she'll yell at me before midnight though, I'm sure."

"Try to be a little optimistic," Spencer says. "I mean—just—take it easy. Don't do anything too nuts, okay? I know you well enough to know you have Prison Break on one of the DVRs in that house, and I also know that you know your own limits. Don't push yourself past them."

"I won't," you say. You know yourself well enough to know that you're probably lying, but you brought your needles and a skein of yarn so worst case you can just knit and keep your mouth shut, hopefully not miscounting any of your stitches in your drunken state. "I'll call you tomorrow, okay? I get in around ten on boxing day too, so—coffee?"

"Coffee," Spencer says. "Merry Christmas, Y/N."

"Merry Christmas, Spencer," you respond, hanging up the phone thereafter. You stay outside for another few minutes, drinking your hot chocolate, watching the sky and prolonging the time between then and your next interactions with your relatives.

Eventually, when you go back in, you're met with a sly look from your aunt and a suspicious look in your mothers eyes, while your father and uncle chat about current events and your sisters are busy in a game of Uno.

"You got a boyfriend?" Your aunt asks, her smile cheeky.

You grimace. "No!" You say, beelining for the kitchen and the bottle of Barefoot brand zinfandel. "No—it's—it isn't like that. A friend had planned to call and I didn't say no."

"Oooh, a friend," your mother teases. "That's quite vague, Y/N."

You nod, finishing the last sip of hot chocolate in your mug and rinsing it out, setting it in your favored corner of the kitchen counter and reaching for the wine glass you'd left in that same area.

"Intentionally so," you laugh. "You two are so nosy. I love you both to bits and pieces, but—it's not anything like what you're thinking. The friend is a coworker."

You reach for the bottle of zinfandel and pour an amount that just barely skirts the edge of avoiding being obscene, putting the cap back on and leaving it on the counter along with the rest of the alcoholic companions that will reside on the countertop until at some point tomorrow, when the drinks are switched out from booze and beer to soda and water.

"You two will be an item in five years, I guarantee it," your aunt says. "Seriously. You don't be vague about someone with your family unless there are feelings there, Y/N."

You laugh a little more, taking a sip of your wine and debating rummaging through the fridge to find the brownies that you'd hidden in the back of the fridge for when the drunken cravings kicked in.

"I've been vague with you people about women coworkers," you retort. "I've been vague about mentors who are older than Dad. I'm vague about lots of things."

"You should open up," your uncle says. "Nobody likes a closed off little snowflake who wants to appear mysterious."

"Trust is earned," the older of your two sisters retorts. "You have to trust people to want to open up to them."

"Do you not trust us?" Your mother asks, looking at you with pain in her eyes.

Not like I did when I was a kid, you think. "I do! I just—work life and family life are two separate things to me. If I were as open as you guys want me to be, telling you work stories and funny office anecdotes, you'd all want to hear less about my job."

"Being an FBI agent can't be that hard," your uncle retorts.

"You say that as a man who's never watched someone you love like a sibling get shot at," you retort. "You've never seen someones body missing parts, or seen someone who narrowly evaded a serial killer shaking with grief and with survivors guilt already starting to manifest. I love you all, but not one of you understands what it's like, and I wouldn't wish you did across a thousand lifetimes."

Nobody knows what to say, but the look in your eldest sisters eyes is clear—she's proud.

"Well maybe you should work in a different area," your aunt says.

"I wouldn't trade my job or my coworkers for anything," you respond. "The plus sides make up for the drawbacks tenfold."

Things go a little quiet after that, and you eventually grab the bottle of Zinfandel and retreat back out to the back porch, not caring how cold it is.

You stare at the sky for ages, drinking your way through the entire bottle of zinfandel as you do. You're half asleep when your phone rings again, and you pick it up as you make back inside, figuring the rest of your family had gone to bed as well.

"Hey," Spencer greets. "Just calling to check in again."

"Hi," you respond. "Everyone else has gone to sleep, I think—nobody is in the kitchen or the living room, and if I don't hit the hay I'll be dead on my feet tomorrow morning."

"Do you have any sports drinks around?" Spencer asks. "The elctrolytes in them will help replenish the potassium and the salt that you lose after a lot of drinking. Bouillion soup also serves the same purpose, and water is basically universally known as the one thing you should consistently drink between alcoholic beverages."

"My mother gets a twelve pack of the fruit punch Gatorade, puts it in the fridge and normally will make the drunkest of us chug a bottle before we conk out, so I'm gonna grab one and then chug it and head to bed. Thank you for calling to check in, Spencer. It means a lot."

You head for the fridge and keep to your word, opening it and grabbing one of the gatorades.

"It's no problem," Spencer says. "I've know you—how long now?"

"Four entire years," you laugh, closing the fridge and pressing your forehead against the metal door of the freezer on top of it. "Oh, God. Four years of working at the BAU. That is a surefire way to make me feel old."

"How old do you think you'll feel when you've been working there for a decade?"

"Absolutely, positively, ancient," you say. "Oh my God—thirty three? That is not an age I can picture. Asking me to picture that while I'm drunk feels like such a low blow, Reid."

"How about twenty-eight?"

"I'm starting to think you just like the sound of my voice," you retort, laughing a little as you compose yourself just enough to turn your phone onto speaker and set it on the counter. You lean against the counter and take the screw top off of your gatorade, sighing a little. "Are you asking me if I have a five year plan, Dr. Reid?"

"Yeah," he says. "Yes is the answer to both your statement and your question."

"Well, in five years, I'll be twenty-eight," you start. "I'd like it very much if I were still on the team, and if I am, that means nine years at the BAU. I'm going to get better at knitting and finally stop knitting things for people who don't offer to buy the yarn or otherwise compensate, I think. I make things free for ungrateful people too often. Maybe even adopt a kitten or take in a shelter dog. Fuck—Reid, I can't really even decide what I'm going to do in the next five minutes, let alone the next five years."

You chug the gatorade as you think about it—a bigger apartment would be nice, one that's closer to work would be nicer still. One with a good view of the city, maybe a library or a liquor store within walking distance, if not a Michaels or a Joanns.

You've always been more of a cat person but you have a ridiculously insurmountable softspot for greyhounds and pitbulls, so if you thought you could take in an animal in the coming years, you would have the knowledge and the background to give them a good home.

You'd maybe want to change up your hair color, if the drunken opportunity presented itself. A change in appearance feels like the sort of thing a person finds necessary at the age of twenty four, in the last year before the brain fully develops and stuff starts changing bit by bit.

"I think I'll still be on the team," Spencer says. "I know it. I love what we get to do everyday, Y/N. Helping people? Saving lives? We do good. We're good people."

"What else do you think about the next five years?" You ask, your voice quiet.

"I think I'll still be living in my same apartment, and that I'll still bicker and get into prank wars with Morgan," Spencer says. "I think I'll still play chess against Gideon on the jet home, and I'll still love to learn anything I can. I know for sure I'm still going to be trying to get you to watch Dr. Who with me, though I hope you agree to watch it after five years of attempts at cajoling you to."

You laugh, and the air takes on a somber kind of tone. "Maybe," you say. "Not likely, but maybe, Reid. Look—I'm going to go to bed so that I can just deal with tomorrows probable hangover head on, but thank you for calling me not once, but twice tonight. I really needed some company that wasn't a little bit of an asshole."

"Yeah, of course," Spencer says. "I—well—merry Christmas, Y/N."

"Goodnight, Spencer," is how you bid him adieu, hanging up the phone thereafter. You throw the gatorade bottle into the recycling and head off to the room you'd claimed, turning the tv onto a low volume and falling asleep with The Muppet Christmas Carol beginning to play in the background.

-

"How was everyones Christmas?" Garcia asks, practically buzzing with excitement as she comes out into the bullpen. Spencer is leaning against your desk, the two of you talking about nothing in particular when she comes around, and Garcia looks at you with a happy grin. "How was Maine?"

"It was Maine," you shrug. "Snowed. A lot. In turn, everyone in my family drank. A lot."

"Oh," Garcia shakes her head. "Too many people and too much booze is God awful."

You shrug. "My parents, my sisters, and my aunt and my uncle hardly felt like too many," you say. "And the amount of booze in which I indulged hardly felt like too much."

"You had a lot," Spencer retorts, looking at you skeptically. "I got a text Christmas morning, if memory serves—"

"A text to thank you for being so nice," You fire back, cutting him off. "Totally not asking you for hangover cures. I would never."

Spencer shakes his head, laughing slightly. You grin, taking a sip of the tea he'd brought you that morning.

"Yeah," he says. "I didn't get a text asking for the ultimate hangover cure-all. I guess I must've remembered it wrong."

Your grin widens, and you nod. "Guess so. How were things with your Mom?"

"They were great," Spencer says. "I had a good time."

"I'm glad," you respond. "Your mother sounds pleasant."

"She is," Spencer nods. "I'd hate to spend more than an hour with yours though."

"She's comin' here in June," you fire back, leaning back in your chair as your grin morphs from grin to smirk. "Be careful for the next six months, Reid, or I'll invite you to dinner with her, myself, and my father."

"That sounds like some form of mideval torture," Derek fires, laughing. Spencer shakes his head.

"Not if Y/Ns there," he murmurs. You take another sip of your tea to avoid seeming flustered to the rest of the team, and Spencer sighs when JJ comes around. You sit up in your chair, already anticipating her next words.

"We have a case," she says. "A series of deaths in Witchita. Briefing room in ten!"

You and Spencer exchange a look. There are only a few days left of it, but it looks like the last of 2005 is due to be a whirlwind.

[number-1-kuaidul-fanboy]

Because she's insane, power hungry, obsessed, a child who's been given a ton of power and left unchecked, and she's a girl in love who's being written by Studio Bridge and female Bridge YGO characters become blind to reality when they're in love. Any more questions?

[violentlyexplosive]

not to be Vulnerable On Main, but I'm going through it and need to vent my thoughts into the internet aether where i can pretend the people reading it aren't real. um. trigger warning for sad animal stuff and some mentions of blood, sh, and sa.

pet loss is so weird. like. i keep waking up at 5 am, half asleep, like "ah yes, i have to get up and let the dog out now" but then there is no dog. i had never had her as my phone background until she died. i keep looking to the couch every time i walk into the living room and there is no dog there. i look behind myself when i move around the kitchen so i don't step on her but there is no dog behind my feet. i go on a walk every day at 8 pm because i cannot fathom a routine without her. every time i pass the neighbourhood kids i hold my breath, cus is this going to be the time they ask? am i going to have to explain to a gaggle of six year olds that the dog had to go away? where she went? am i going to have to be the one to say it because my father is older and softer now and will cry? do i get to cry?

I've never been close to my extended family, and it's always baffled me when others would talk about grieving their grandparents. somehow a part of me views it as, idk, a lesser grief? not in the sense that i don't believe you should grieve your family members, no matter how many degrees of separation between your bloodlines, but because it is simply not something i have or will ever experience as a product of my upbringing and culture. i already struggle with empathy on a good day, having been medicated since pre-puberty, and i just can't... understand this form of grief. i do not think less of it, i just can't find the shape of it.

and i feel sort of similar in this? like. this stupid fucking dog was in my life from 13 years old to nearly 21. she saw me through ugly, awkward haircuts and acne and my first bad period and watched me harm myself and come home traumatised with invisible hands tattooed onto my skin forever. we got her to help me with my debilitating social anxiety/agoraphobia and depression. she got me out of the house and forced me to talk to people to explain "oh I'm sorry, she barks at men, we think she was abused as a puppy" and laid in bed with me when i was too sick or pained to get out of it. and in return, i held her during thunderstorms and fireworks, wiped her mouth and ass when she threw up or pissed the bed. i slept on the couch with her when she couldn't make it up the stairs after surgery, then again years later when she got too old and sick. i hand fed her when she didn't have the energy, i spit water into her mouth when she couldn't get up to drink it herself, i kissed her little, golden head every time she gagged on the pills i had to force down her throat because no amount of ham or cheese or peanut butter could make her swallow them. she was clever like that, in the dumbest ways possible.

and it's so fucking weird without her. i never realised how much my routine revolved around her until she wasn't there to cry at me to feed her anymore. and i feel stupid for feeling so broken up over a dog of all things. like i said, a lesser grief. animals come and go, i know this. have known it since i lived in the countryside and saw my first dead deer, since i had to kill an injured bird for the first time. i knew she was going to go, and i knew it was going to happen soon. i knew the moment the vet called to say she had blood in her tummy because i hung up and screamed. i screamed. over a dog? over the one thing in life i knew how to love right.

i dont know. I'm ovulating, and it's been officially seven days since she said goodbye, tail wagging to the very fucking end. it's too quiet at home, and my mother (mentally unstable narcissist that she is) is already talking about wanting to get another dog. we have a 12kg bag of food and two pallets of canned stuff that came a couple days after she went, that im going to donate. i carried the 40kg ball of fluff and blood to the vet, 12 is nothing after that. i take solace in the fact that i believe in god not in the abrahamic way, but that god is the universe and everything within, and that energy cannot be created or destroyed, meaning she's still out there somewhere. maybe if i listen really hard I'll hear her again.

[th3houseofleaves]

how LONG has it BEEN since i've heard MY FATHER'S voice?

have i forgotten how it sounds? will i still recognize the way he calls my name?

INTRODUCING anthony "dove" baek an original character based in the dc comics fandom. they are played by simon martyn.

anthony "dove" baek is a twenty year old barista and paramedic in training. occasionally, as they can afford it, they attend college classes, studying a variety of subjects with no set major. school is mostly for fun at this point; they have no real desire to complete a degree or go forward in their education, they just enjoy learning. it also allows them the opportunity to spend time with their best friend, karina "reenie" downing. becoming a paramedic is their real dream and they're so close to reaching it; they've always wanted to help people in a way that really made a difference.

dove was born and raised in gotham – during their teenage years they spent several weeks in central city, after running away from their current foster home – they grew up in a neighborhood on the border of crime alley and the bowery, regularly traveling between the two. they were an unwanted, but not unloved child. their parents weren't together and didn't plan on having children until their mother got pregnant; she wasn't ready to grow up yet, but their father was, if she agreed to it he wanted to keep the baby, even if it meant raising them by himself.

they came to an agreement. he'd take full responsibility for their baby and she'd sign everything away. he agreed that she could still be in their life if she wanted, acting as an aunt instead of a mother. (she accepted, though she still wasn't as present as he hoped she would be.)

dove's father did the best he good while raising them. he worked two or more jobs and he was always searching for a more stable position that would allow him to spend more time with his kid. he'd leave dove with neighbors and close friends while he worked but every minute he had free, no matter how exhausted he was, was spent making sure dove knew how they loved they were. their father was the world to them growing up. it didn't matter that he'd leave them alone a lot — being babysat by neighbors would eventually become being left at home alone, his father trusting that they'd be safe if they went out. (they were a true latchkey kid, left home alone with no supervision, expected to take care of themself until a parent got home.)

eventually, their father's struggles finding employment would lead him to accepting some... less than legal jobs. this is the start of a time where he'd be gone longer and longer stretches of time, until he just... never came back.

dove waited in their apartment for nearly two weeks before they accepted that their father wasn't coming home.

they knew that he'd never abandon them but it didn't stop that fear from creeping in, telling them that he'd finally had enough.

after losing their father, dove spent time on and off the street. they tried to avoid social workers and mandated reporters that would turn them over to cps because they didn't trust the foster care system. they'd only ever heard bad things and it scared them. the streets were the lesser of two evils in their mind. walking and surviving on the streets of gotham wasn't new to them, they'd been doing it since they were seven and their dad trusted them to be home alone for the first time. foster care was different; there was too many unknowns, they didn't know the rules for survival and they didn't want to learn. of course, there was times where they'd be picked up and placed quickly — usually in a group home, since they were older, but occasionally they'd wind up in a smaller foster placement.

there was only one or two placements they trusted enough to stick around for longer than a week.

and only one were they felt safe enough to stay until they finished high school. (their senior year was messy but at least they were stable. they had a warm bed to go to every night and that was enough.)

high school is where they would meet reenie downing, their future best friend and ex girlfriend. they met during a period in both their lives where they were starting to question who they were. they only dated for a brief time and during that time they slept together twice before figuring out that no, neither one of them is straight. they had a very amicable break up and have stayed close ever since. (this was helped by the fact that they have a son together. an accidental outcome caused by them being two stupid teenagers, who really didn't know what they were doing.)

they co-parent their son, sparrow, with reenie, though he primarily lives with them. reenie takes him on the weekends because she has those off and dove picks up the most work on weekends.

at some point during their preteen years they started to develop meta abilities, specifically superspeed. they have no idea how this happened, they don't remember anything special happening to them, nor do they think it was something passed down. neither of their parents, to their knowledge, where meta-humans. it's a very weird situation for them but by the time they're an adult they've adjusted. it's just a part of their life, it might not make sense but they're working with it.

now, they're mostly focused on their day to day, just working to get by and make the world a better place. even if their part in that is small. they're not a hero, not in the sense the people closest to them are, but they are good. they are genuinely good.

dove is one of the few people who have not let the corruption of gotham ruin their heart. no matter how bad their city is, they will always have love to give. they will never sink so low as to take their anger out on the world around them.

each day they do their best to make someone else's day better. with kind words or small gestures that might mean nothing to most people, but to others they're the world. this is how they begin their friendship with helena bertinelli, the huntress. she was a hero to them before she was their friend; they were someone who believed in what huntress was doing and regularly defended her actions. (in much the same way they'd defend red hood's actions, though that gets harder for them to do without feeling all jittery and flustered after meeting jason.)

additional link: pinterest

psd credit: @kaijucatrph

template credit: @jessource

[vampireclub7]

In the midst of all this HYBE drama WOW WOW WOW this isn’t even Enha’s comeback but every song on Memorabilia rocks. These guys are so talented and versatile. And Jay! Whoa, wow. Hope you are well, BPP!

***

Hello @susanraines

Sorry for the late reply. I've been kinda neglecting Tumblr recently and this blog especially. I'm attempting to properly answer your question before Romance: Untold drops in a month.

Because, yes, I really like Memorabilia and it has everything I love about ENHYPEN.

Agreed that ENHYPEN is easily the most versatile group in HYBE right now. Easily. And the reason why is because the members themselves are versatile. All of them are incredible dancers, all of them have resonant, agile vocals, all of them have developed compelling personas. The songs on Memorabilia are good enough, but it's the members' performances of those songs that elevates them into something better.

I checked out their performance of Fatal Trouble at WeverseCon and couldn't find a single weakness, in any member.

That's the performance they gave with Jay sporting a knee injury, all seven just coming from their Fate+ tour in Japan and preparing for their next comeback.

*

What I love most about Memorabilia is seeing the growth in all the members. Take for example, Jay. He's always had my favourite vocal tone in ENHYPEN but in this album, can you hear the pipes on that man? His vocals? Perfect for any genre, but it especially shines in the pop-rock Fatal Trouble. The way he starts the second chorus of Fatal Trouble is one of the top highlights of that song IMO. Ni-ki's verse too is goosebump-inducing, as is his slowdown bridge on Teeth. Heeseung is basically the Jungkook in Enhypen with how much he carries their songs vocally but that isn't to say the others members are slacking at all in that department either. Sunoo, Jay, Jungwon, Sunghoon (he's the real Lucifer, that is all), Jake, Ni-ki - their vocal deliveries are pretty good.

Lucifer, Teeth, and to a lesser degree Fatal Trouble are the stand out tracks on Memorabilia for me. Scream I found mostly forgettable and Criminal Love and OIAB are old tracks. Overall the album is a solid 7.5/10 from me.

I have serious doubts about the intelligence and ethics of the top honchos at Belift, but whoever is sourcing their songs knows what he/she is doing. At least so far. I suspect their upcoming album will have a lighter tone, and that's usually not my thing but I'm looking forward to it in any case.

[zdbztumble]

Yet Another Kingdom Hearts Revisit, Part V

This playthrough has been a blow to my pretensions of having a good memory. I'd completely forgotten that King Triton isn't the only good Disney character from outside Disney Castle who knows something about Keyblades and Keyholes. It makes perfect sense for the Genie to have some insight into them, but I really like that he knows less than Triton does. It's better for pacing reasons that he doesn't, but it also fits his character - I can't imagine that a magical being who spends so much time contemplating mid-20th century American pop culture while stuck in his lamp would keep his ancient legends straight.

Of all the Disney worlds in the series that try to condense their source films into the game, KH I's Agrabah is the most successful IMO. It's really the only level in the game that did so. Olympus Coliseum, Halloweentown, Monstro, and Neverland feature original stories, and Wonderland, Deep Jungle, and Atlantica use only pieces of their films (to greater and lesser degrees) in their stories. Agrabah has almost all the major elements of Aladdin in it: Aladdin's street rat origins, Jasmine's escape from the palace (albeit under entirely different circumstances) and her love affair with Aladdin, Jafar's scheming to take over Agrabah, the quest for the lamp in the Cave of Wonders, Genie's comedy, his freedom, and the three wishes. Even "Prince Ali" gets worked in. The only thing left out from the film is the finale where Aladdin and Jasmine get together.

Why it works here compared to later worlds in the series is that, despite using so much of the film, all of those elements are re-contextualized to fit the time frame that KH I had to work with and, more importantly, were modified to fit the needs of KH I's larger story. There's no room to fit the "Prince Ali" element proper into the plot, and if the attempt had been made, it would've been an abridged version lacking the comedic texture that makes it work in the movie, and it would have distracted from Sora's story and the plot of the League of Disney Villains. It was much better to make that a brief mention and have the three wishes applied to the battle with the Heartless.

And speaking of battling Heartless - Aladdin's in my Top 3 for Disney world battle partners in the entire series. The dude rocks. And Jafar makes for one of the more challenging two-part bosses in the game. Kurt Zisa is, for my money, the most difficult secret boss in the game, Sephiroth very much included. And that's (usually) a good thing! I like having to shift between physical and magical strategies, and I like that he's a boss that let you get good value out of the Summons (sadly, I wasn't able to duplicate my last playthrough, where I beat him with multiple Summons instead of just Tinkerbell and dumb luck at dodging his vertical spin after she bought me a free life).

Part of me wonders if Monstro and Agrabah shouldn't have been reversed in order. On the one hand, Riku nabbing Jasmine makes for a good shock and a sense of foreboding; the player knows how far gone he is at that point, but Sora doesn't. But why does Riku need the quest for the seven princesses explained at the end of Monstro when he's already captured one of them?

And I might as well cover Monstro in this post, as I don't have too much to say about him. This is one world where I agree with the complaints about KH I's platforming. I appreciate that the bowels of a space-whale should be a claustrophobic place, but the chambers are too small and too packed with crap to make the concept work in an enjoyably challenging way. Instead, it's just tedious.

Storywise, however, Monstro is a great turning point for Sora and Riku. Taking a cute Disney character hostage might be an easy way to sell moral decline, but it's so much more effective than three minutes of lore gibber-gabber by one-note pricks in black coats. And whichever executives at Square and Disney are responsible for giving the final OK to these games' plots should have made the staff re-watch this scene ahead of every scripting session since KH I. The first game as a whole works against later characterizations of Responsible Riku being the one to clean up after lazy, do-as-he-pleases Sora, but that scene and this world demonstrate most clearly how big a retcon that change was.

[gctchell]

Talk about- Lucifer

-copaceticjillybean

Send “Talk about-” and a name for my muse to talk about that person! // @copaceticjillybean // going with all three since no muse was specified!

"He's really, really handsome. He reminds me of the pompadour boys back from my time. ~" Niffty giggles, fingers tapping on her cheeks as she smiles an uncomfortably wide, sharp golden smile. "He's dressed to the nines, he smells like apples, and he's got a really great smile. The old greaseboys back home don't hold a candle to the ultimate bad boy. I had my expectations, and he really beat some of them right out of the water - especially with how he beat the snot out of Adam during the Exterminaaaaatioooooon." Giggle, giggle, giggle, giggle. That was hot. Like, really, really hot.

"It's really too bad he's Charlie's dad. I'd love to take a bite out of that Forbidden Fruit. ~" Also the fact he's married. Most importantly though, if there was one thing Niffty respected, it was the honor rule of not fucking your friends dads. "I bet he even tastes like apples.."

Niffty, you're drooling.

".."

"His Royal Majesty, King Lucifer, is a respectable sort." That was a mandatory public opinion and she kept to it like an assassin to her knife. "His recent show of power was an excellent reminder to all of Hell in concerns of just who is running our 'Circus'. Sometimes, the lessers tend to forget. Fatal choice, that."

Short, sweet, somewhat dishonest, to the point.

“Lucifer Morningstar is my mate and my husband. He is King, and he has a mind made for the stars.” Lilith stated with a look of pride in her expression, eyelids low as the purple irises begin to harbor a blossoming glow. Lucifer is intrinsic to Lilith; there is no one without the other since the beginning of Hell. They are one another's breath and life's blood. Seven years are meant to be a blink in the eye of an immortal, but without Lucifer, it has been a tangible crawl.

“He's a kindred spirit possessed by the desire for creation. He brings his visions to life and bares no limitation — he refuses to be. I adore that endlessness about him.” Lilith hums as her fingers bridge together, supporting her chin. “My lover is infinite, in spite of the hand dealt by Heaven. I find it so ironic how they sought to extinguish his existence and belittle his value, and his actions have only made him grow into someone who is known, feared, and revered all around the Earth — and even in Heaven itself. They tried to knock him down, and they gave him a podium.”

“He is my equal, and he makes me laugh.”

And she misses him to a devastating degree.

[enkisstories]

There came the day when Marlon picked up a guitar the previous owners of the officer's club had left behind. The stormtrooper had no order to do so, and he couldn't have explained what purpose his action served. He just did it, because he felt like it.

Alexander and Antony, however, got an earful from David Allen for talking to the toilet, because its sophisticated programming was reminiscent of that of a droid. They had decided to be nicer to droids and aliens in the future.

David: "Talking to a LOO? There's being deviant and there's being stupid, and this was one step too far into the second direction!"

Day by day "The Second Order" grew closer to each other and to their liege, until one day everyone realized that come what may, they'd always put Governor Sonderan's interests over that of the First Order.

They even had a secret handshake now:

Hank completed the "Leader of the pack" aspiration and cannot get deposed from now on. He can still lose his office, but the loyalty of his honor guard will remain unshaken. The seven in the actual club will even take great personal risks to that end, the others to a lesser degree.

[thisaintascenereviews]

Dan + Shay - Bigger Houses

Ever since the decline of bro-country in the late 2010s, something has needed to fill the void within country music, and really, a couple of things have come up, such as pop-country, which was happening a lot during the 2010s, but there is a bit more of a traditional twist on it now, and what a lot of people call “boyfriend country,” which is the opposite of bro-country. The style of boyfriend country is that it’s more pop-focused and the lyrics are sweeter and gentler than bro-country’s blatant misogyny. A lot of the boyfriend country tropes I’ve noticed are about how getting married, falling in love, and all of that stuff, but I suppose you could lump heartbreak songs into that, too.

When it comes to the big names that are apart of this style, there’s one name that comes to mind above the others — Dan + Shay. Members Dan Smyers and Shay Mooney have been around and kicking for the last decade, starting with their debut album in 2014, Where It All Began. I’ve only heard that, and their follow-up, 2016’s Obsessed, but they’re a good band. Their debut especially is very catchy pop-country with very sweet lyrics that bucked the trends at the time, and I had a soft spot for it. I haven’t listened to the album in years, but who knows, it might hold up.

All of these years later, they’re still going, and they just dropped their new album, Bigger Houses, their first in a couple of years. I thought I’d check it out just because I’ve been on a country kick, and I wondered how these guys sounded in the last seven years since I’ve lasted listened to them. I got some good and bad news after listening to this a few times — the good news is that, well, it’s pretty good, but the bad news is that, for the most part, it doesn’t do anything they haven’t done before, although it does sound updated to a degree and I have to respect that. The lyrics are more mature this time around, despite being about heartbreak, love, and marriage, but that’s the key — their early stuff wasn’t necessarily about marriage or being married, but now that they are older, they have that experience.

This album is kind of a mixed bag, but not because some of it is good and the rest is bad, it more so has its peaks and valleys. There are a handful of wonderful, albeit generic, songs, and there are some that don’t do anything for me. The ones that stick out are opener “Breakin’ Up With A Broken Heart,” “Heartbreak On The Map,” “Always Gonna Be,” “Let’s Get Married,” and the closing track which is also the title track. My favorite is “Let’s Get Married,” which is a ludicrous song about a guy randomly meeting someone and he immediately says they should get married on a drunken whim, so the hook jumps into a bluegrass hoedown with the cliches of a shotgun wedding in Las Vegas and it’s so much fun. The other songs that work here have a mixture of solid lyrics that are very heartfelt and sweet, as well as solid vocal and instrumental performances.

A few tracks just don’t stick the landing, namely “For The Both Of Us,” and this doesn’t work for me in the same way that Ian Munsick’s “More Than Me.” That song is about how a man’s bride and her father remark that God loves her more than them and it just makes me cringe, because as someone that isn’t religious at all, I can’t imagine putting a deity over anyone else in your life. This song, however, is about how a man is asking his girlfriend’s father for his blessing to marry her (already kind of weird and outdated), but he’ll love her for the “both of us.” Does he mean love her enough for both her and his girlfriend, or does he mean he’ll love her enough for both him and her dad? That’s so weird, and while the hook is nice, the lyrics are so weirdly old-fashioned.

A few other tracks on the album just feel like lesser versions of ones they’ve done before, or that sound the same compared to other songs on the album, including “Then Again,” which is sort of interesting in terms of talking about the “what if’s” if he didn’t meet his wife, but it just amounts to “I’m lucky to have you,” which is exactly what the title track does at the end, as it talks about how “happiness doesn’t live in bigger houses.” That’s not a new sentiment, but it’s a good one.

This album’s biggest strength is being super slick and catchy, as these guys have always been solid songwriters, but there is some nice traditional instrumentation here, including fiddle, pedal steel, and banjo that pop up from time to time. Sure, Bigger Houses is nothing out of the ordinary, and it isn’t a unique album, but it’s a short and catchy one, so despite not having listened to these guys in years, it’s a nice surprise. Nothing that will make my yearend list, mind you, but this record is really pleasant and nice to listen to it, especially if you want some solid hooks with some sweet and heartfelt lyrics that you may have heard many times over already.

[altairtalisman]

Ragnar's Bio

"Oh, my scars? Well, let's just say it involves harpoons, delicious meat, and amazing swimming skills from yours truly!"

More details on Ragnar is under the cut

Name: Ragnar Jökulfroða

Age: 311

Height: 325 cm (169 cm in humanoid form)

Birthday: 7 Vierum 1711 (Laintayra)

Orientation: Cisgender Pansexual Male

Pronouns: He/Him

Species: Merfolk

Country of Birth: Friganus Kingdom

Likes: Kiwis, sea urchins, ramen, showing off his body

Dislikes: Fishing nets, clothes, tomatoes

Hobbies: Playing his guitar, sunbathing, travelling

Personality: Quick-witted and bold, he's always up for new experiences and beats to his own drum even if it means deviating from what's considered the norm

Style: Usually wears shorts when in his humanoid form, otherwise he doesn’t wear anything when in his true form. If he’s being accused of outrage of modesty in his humanoid form, he will cover up his nipples with smiley face stickers

Abilities: Able to breathe underwater and shapeshift, also has a high tolerance to freezing temperatures. Due to genetics, he's considered blind but refuses to use visual aids for. For some reason, he knows how to wield harpoons both as a melee weapon as well as a fishing instrument

Background: Born third in line for the throne in Friganus Kingdom, Ragnar grew up with seven other siblings. Due to his position in the line of succession, he was granted a limited degree of social mobility unlike his older siblings but far lesser than his younger siblings

Due to the royal part of kingdom being situated in the abyssal zone, Ragnar hasn't seen sunlight before and yearned to see it for himself after overhearing his parents discussing a merfolk meeting with the other four kingdoms in Gurapi. At 30, he decided to swim upwards in order to discover what sunlight looks like while his parents were away on a diplomatic meeting

Reaching the twilight zone, he discovered that there were marine life shaped differently from the ones he knew in the abyssal zone and that they resembled blurry blobs to him. He decided to swim even closer to the surface as he wanted to find out what the world above the waters looked like under the sun, and upon doing so, he discovered that there were colours that he never knew existed and for the first time, he could see how he looked like

As he wasn't allowed to leave the abyssal zone, he had to keep his visits a secret from everyone. He continued to visit the surface, receiving his first scar on his cheek at 36 due to fishers actively hunting him. Despite the dangers he was exposed to, he continued to visit the surface as he was fascinated by the world above him

However, a harpoon shot through his chest at 52 years old, severely wounding him. Knowing that returning to the abyssal zone to receive medical attention would result in his parents smelling his blood as well as not wanting to risk dying before he sought aid, he went to the twilight zone to seek medical attention for his wound. What he didn't expect was that his parents were making rounds in the twilight zone, and they followed his trail of blood to where he was

Discovering that Ragnar has been sneaking out from the abyssal zone to visit the surface, they decided to ground him in his room until they felt that he had learnt from his lesson. During this period, he started learning the guitar from the servant assigned to his needs in secret, with the guitar scavenged from a nearby marine graveyard

While learning how to play the guitar from the servant, he relied on them to learn about the events happening around him. As the years passed, his yearning to see the light once more grew exponentially. Through the servant, he learnt that the five kingdoms held meetings every four years, and that the location changed every year to suit the host kingdom

Through his sister, who was sixth in line to throne and felt that his punishment was far too harsh given that he nearly died, Ragnar learnt the hosting order among the five kingdoms. With this knowledge, he started planning his escape with the help of both the servant and his sister

He decided to execute his escape when the meeting was hosted by the Calidus Kingdom as it was on the other end of the world, and at 105, he made his escape and started living in the sunlight zone. This resulted in him getting caught in an enchanted fishing net a month later, resulting in fatal wounds

He was then brought to Selvraddur with the fishers planning to sell him to a fish market. Learning that merfolk, especially those from the Friganus Kingdom, were a delicacy amongst humans, he realised why he wasn't allowed to leave the abyssal zone. Aware that he was bleeding to death, he then observed his surroundings to find someone who would sympathise with his plight

This caused him to lock eyes with Frieda, who happened to be busking at the harbour he was brought to. He didn't expect the sylph to save him considering what he had heard about the air elementals from gossip circulating in the kingdom, and was surprised when ae not only tried to buy him from the fishers, but went as far as to destroy the fishing vessel in aer attempt to save him

Grateful for his freedom, he promised Frieda that he'll provide assistance should ae entangle aerself with matters regarding the oceans. Returning to the Friganus Kingdom, he sought medical aid for his bleeding wounds. His impression of Frieda contrasted with what he knew about sylphs, motivating him to see for himself what the world truly was above the surface instead of relying on broken whispers and blurred truths

Realising that as long as he was in line for the throne, Ragnar wouldn't be allowed to freely learn about the world above the surface. This prompted him to announce that he would be abdicating from the throne a few months later, with him formally abdicating from the throne at the start of the new year

Now free, the first thing he did was to travel to countries surrounding warmer waters with his guitar in tow. He eventually stepped foot on Asanokian soil at 107 years old, and started to busk for observational purposes. However, due to the xenophobic attitudes present in the country, Ragnar was swiftly thrown into prison for 'illegal busking' without receiving a warning

In prison, he shared a cell with Chiaki, who was a death row prisoner for mass slaughter. Curious to why Asanoku would place a non-human in the same cell as a human, he was surprised to later discover that Chiaki had the ability to shapeshift into a humanoid form that was completely different from her true form

To fill the silence, he held a one-sided guitar lesson with the fox spirit, the latter smiling politely but pretending that she couldn't understand the merman throughout. Eventually, he was released for reasons unknown, though he suspected that his sister had pulled a few strings for his release

He then travelled to Koho'e, where he re-encountered Frieda. Upon learning that Ragnar's guitar was confiscated and possibly destroyed by the Asanokian authorities, ae bought a guitar utilising lightning magic for him. They entered a relationship a while later before amicably ending it five years later, though they continued to travel together as friends

While travelling together with Frieda, they met Hana in Teqaejan, the latter asking them if their species would be interested in staying in an inclusive hotel somewhere close to the mountains. Ragnar answered no due to the merfolk's general preference to stay underwater, while Frieda answered that the sylphs would be neutral towards the idea

The dullahan then thanked them for their insights and left both of them confused, though interested if such a hotel existed. They continued to travel together, eventually wanting to settle down in a permanent location and hold a job. Ragnar, who planned to stay above water permanently, agreed with Frieda and started to discuss ideal countries to settle down in

They agreed on settling down in Hannzein's middle level and made the move two years after their decision. Many years later, they heard about an inclusive hotel located in the mountainous region of Wulfenz. Recalling aer strange conversation with Hana, Frieda proposed to stay at the hotel for a few days, with Ragnar agreeing as he too, wondered if the hotel was owned by Hana

During their stay at the hotel, they were both impressed at how the hotel's infrastructure had considered the different species in mind. Ragnar was surprised to see many skeletons scurrying about, with Hana surprising them with a welcome gift after discovering that they were staying at the hotel

An explanation from the dullahan quickly revealed that the skeletons actually formed the bulk of the hotel's staff as they haven't formally started the recruitment process, and both Hana and Jackson weren't sure if the hotel was sustainable in the first five years. She then asked if the hotel was 'inclusive' enough from an outsider's perspective, with the merman enthusiastically expressing that it was

Hana then mentioned to Ragnar about the saltwater pool the hotel had, which impressed him as a majority of aquatic species tend to be found in saltwater. He immediately asked for a job at the hotel, which took Frieda aback but went along with him nonetheless

The dullahan then asked for their qualities and what they could bring to the table, with Ragnar highlighting that him being a merman meant that he was suitable to be a lifeguard as compared to skeletons

Hana then asked if his body structure in his humanoid form would be an issue given the hotel's implicit rule of covering the body when not using the pool, with Ragnar responding that covering up wasn't an issue as there were inclusive clothes widely available for species living on land

He also added to Frieda's point about the hotel saving on entertainment as ae could play the keyboard by indicating that he could play the guitar. Impressed by Ragnar's initiation and boldness, Hana decided to hire both of them and with Jackson's approval, worked out the dates to when they would be starting

Ragnar is then given the position as the the hotel pool's lifeguard, receiving a promotion to become the chief lifeguard as well as a decent number of skeleton lifeguards under his orders (with Ilias still keeping their souls bound to their skeletons) years later

Humanoid Form:

[cinemacentral666]

Iron Sky (2012) & Iron Sky: The Coming Race (2019)

Movies #1,108 & 1,109 • TWO FOR TUESDAYS

"August Sky" month continues here on TWO FOR TUESDAYS.

[[[ NOTE: add link to this in GERMAN CHAINSAW review when you post it to other site ]]]]

These movies are A LOT. But that is by design. You don't put Hitler riding a T-Rex on the moon by accident. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

These two B-movie-ass-looking are somehow Finland's most expensive films ever made, which somehow just adds to the hilarity of the whole endeavor. I definitely liked the original one more so let's start there.

It's all the way in the distant future (2018) and the Nazis, having secretly escaped earth at the end of WWII, have set up shop on the darkside of the moon. A Sarah Palin-like American President is vying for reelection and so she sends an African-American model on a "BLACK to the MOON" promotional gimmick. There is satire and then there is this: something so goofy and overt that it nearly renders any/all commentary moot. But I did find the humor in this amusing to a degree. This was a nice Dr. Strangelove homage? Sure...

I mean, it's a little different because it features a Black man who has been cosmetically turned white against his will and now looks like nearly identical to that Wayan Brothers movie...

The plotline surrounding the idea that the Moon Nazis' discovery of this guy's iPhone and its computing power allowing them to complete their ultimate War Machine weapon is legitimately good satire. (Although the subsequent continuation of this thread in The Coming Race is one of that movie's worst ideas, and it's a real race to the bottom there.)

Look, I hesitate to say too much about either of these. I feel like just knowing the baseline plot is enough for anyone to decide whether or not they want to take the plunge into the Iron Sky Universe (apparently a third installment — featuring Andy Garcia (?!) — is coming out soon?) or not. Who knows. Look, I could appreciate both the humor (to a degree, not everything hits for sure), and the aesthetic (which is very bad! but bad in a way that I liked) but maybe I'm just a freak.

SCORE 6.5/10: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️½

The crowdfunded direct sequel, Iron Sky: The Coming Race came out seven years later and despite featuring Udo Kier as Vril Adolph Hitler, it is easily the lesser effort. Also, somehow, despite being crowdfunded, it led to the bankruptcy of the Iron Sky Universe production company. I love the hubris that is attempting to turn this bonkers idea into a Marvel-like cinematic universe and I also love that it's completely imploded (but again: The Ark: An Iron Sky Story is apparently real so what is dead never truly dies?).

The main issue of this one is that is simply not funny at all. And that's a humongous problem when your movie is so clearly geared to function in that vein.

The legend Udo K. — reprising his role from the original in addition to playing the reptilian Hitler (this is loosely based on the Vril novel and ensuing conspiracy theories which is a whole 'nother can of worms) — has a ton more to do here which is one of the only things going for it. The only other real positive is that the action is ramped up to the nth degree, so you get stuff like Vril Osama bin Laden and Vril Pope Urban II riding wagon-pulling Triceratops off a cliff into a pit of lava and the aforementioned T-Rex/Hitler combo getting karate kicked to death by a blonde lady...

Even though they had a half decade to make this one, the writing is far more shoddy in every single way and there's no bigger example than the Tom Green subplot.

On the remnants of the partially destroyed Nazi Moonbase in 2049 (after nuclear war ruined the earth at the end of the first one — sorry, forgot to mention that detail), he leads a cult called the Jobsists formed around the teachings of Steve Jobs. It's like "remember the interesting stuff we did with Apple/iPhones in the original movie? Well here's some more 'satire' on that only it doesn't make any sense and isn't funny." It's a shame too because I was excited to see Green was in this. It just doesn't work at all.

Anyway, those are the two Iron Sky movies. The pride of Finland! I need to go take a shower.

SCORE: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️½

[rosietrace]

Glorious Masquerade, crimson flames (8/?)

Summary: Victoria has been graciously invited to attend the symposium hosted by Noble Bell College in collaboration with Night Raven College. Unfortunately, it seems she has a couple adversaries attending, specifically a certain prince of thorns...

( This does not apply to any of the main stories. )

Author's note: Ngl the Shard's have fucked up and ambiguous morals, but they know how to dress AMAZINGLY

{ Apologies for any out of character moments }

"YOU'RE TELLING ME VICKY KISSED A FUCKING DRACONIA!?!"

Zen felt nauseous when Camilla began aggressively shaking him back and forth, but not to the point of feeling his insides wanting to flood out.

Looking to the side, Victoria sent Mercury a look of worry, taking note of how quiet the boy had been.

Sighing, Victoria walked over to Camilla and gently tapped her on the shoulder."Milla, you can stop shaking Zen back and forth. I fear that he may grow nauseous." Was all she had to say for Camilla to stop.

Zen dramatically collapsed onto the ground, quietly singing an equally dramatic musical number. Which resulted in Mercury calling him a prick-

While they were bickering, Victoria had to explain quite a bit to Camilla.

"Hmm…"

"I know you're upset-"

"Words cannot describe how bewildered and- And ANGRY I am after Zen said you kissed a Draconia!"

Victoria seethed in embarrassment."I didn't kiss him. At least not on the lips…" She said before assertively crossing her arms.

Camilla's eyes widened and Victoria noticed a vein in her forehead."Then where in the seven did you fucking kiss him???" Camilla interrogated, demanding an immediate answer from her cousin.

Sometimes I forget how protective she can get… Especially when a Draconia is involved. Victoria huffed.

"Milla-"

Camilla pouted and turned her head away from Victoria."I'm very disappointed in you, Vicky. Weren't you the most committed to our 'I fucking hate the Draconias' club?" She reminded her.

Victoria smiled fondly at the memory of the club they made when they were younger.

"Yes, vividly," Victoria replied.

Camilla stopped pouting, and Victoria noticed her lips twitching upwards. And her smile widened at that observation.

"Are you still mad at me?" Her voice sounded normal, bordering on unnaturally casual, but Camilla knew that this was Victoria's way of teasing her.

She held it in. She tried to stay mad at her for something so precarious.

But Camilla gave in and whined."I can't stay mad at you for too long…" she rested her head on Victoria's shoulder and hugged her tightly.

After pulling away from the hug, Victoria decided to change the subject."Why are you and Mercury here?" She asked.

Camilla placed a finger over her chin to try and recall the moments that happened before this. Based on her immediate change in expression, Victoria could imagine a lightbulb floating over Camilla's head.

"Mercy came here to represent his school. He said he came here with his counselor and the headmistress's daughter I think."

"I see…. And you?"

Camilla grinned."Aunt Vivian heard that your dad had some sort of hunch and called me over here to help!" She exclaimed, but this time she sounded more gleeful.

I'm guessing my father had the same feeling about Rollo-san… Victoria hummed, looking to the side intently.

But her thoughts came to a close when Zen suddenly hid behind her, in fear for his life."Eh-"

"TORI HELP, MERCURY'S TRYING TO KILL ME-"

"I'M JUST GOING TO PRICK OUT YOUR PRICKS LIKE ANY OTHER CACTUS."

"THAT DOESN'T SOUND COMFORTING."

In a matter of seconds, Victoria grabbed the two of them by their ears and smiled in irritation.

"You two, we. Are. In. Public. I don't care why you're here and who you're representing, we must appear and act dignified, not act like preschoolers." She sent the two of them a look that had both of their souls disappear from their bodies for ten minutes.

When she finally let go of their ears, Zen fake cried and began acting dramatically again, just to a lesser degree. But for Mercury, we looked unfazed.

When in doubt Victoria, Zen, and Camilla knew that he was probably shitting his pants at the idea of angering her.

"Sorry, Ane…" Mercury muttered, looking at the ground awkwardly. Victoria pats his head gently with a subtle but soft smile.

"It's okay. But I need you to be careful with how you act and what you say. Even if you say them out of anger, our enemies could be anywhere. And they might use your words against you." She warned, crouching a bit to reach Mercury's level of height.

Mercury bit his lip before exhaling."Okay… I'll try to keep my sarcastic comments to a minimum." He promised, smiling a bit.

She giggled."If you say so." She responded, "Shall we go look for my parents?"

The rest nodded enthusiastically as they walked alongside one another and began looking for Vivian and Florian. Not to forget the bickering they were all having.

"Where is Aurelie?"

"Ugh, don't get me started on that tramp."

"I'm still not over what she did to my hair!"

"Oh come on, Camilla, having snake hair isn't THAT bad!"

"Oh, would you SHUT THE FUCK-"

"You two. Don't start."

♜ ♛ ________________________________♛♜

"VICTORIA? CAMILLA? MERCURY? ZEN?"

Florian awkwardly watched his wife as she was essentially hollering their names like her life was depending on it.

"Darling, please keep your voice down-"

"Not until I find our daughter, her brother, and her cousins." Vivian insisted, continuing to scurry around the city of flowers and search for them.

Florian let out a sigh." I know you're worried about Flamm, but-" he was cut off by a gasp from his wife.

"MY DARLING GIRL!"

Vivian cheered as she hugged her daughter tightly. When she eventually pulled away, Vivian began relentlessly doting on her daughter. And even though Victoria was somewhat embarrassed, she wasn't complaining.

"Oh, I can't help but say you look so beautiful! My darling girl, isn't she just ethereal?"

Zen snickered."With how doting auntie is, she's practically the equivalent of an overly positive anime mother!" He joked, earning a snort from Mercury.

Victoria chuckled a bit before sending Zen a look. Don't tell them what I did… I won't hear the end of it if they find out. She pleaded to him internally.

Zen immediately understood and sent her a nod, a grin, and a thumbs up in response. Which was enough to relieve Victoria of any stress she had.

Knowing Milla and Mercury, they're likely going to hide what they found out from my parents as well. Especially my father… Victoria sighed heavily, holding onto her mother's arm while they walked together.

"Victoria," Florian called, and the cousins and Zen stiffened a little. Victoria held in her emotions and raised a brow at her father.

"Yes, father?"

"Do you happen to know what Rollo Flamm intends to do?"

When he finally let out his question and it wasn't the one they were anticipating, Zen, Camilla, and Mercury audibly sigh in relief.

Victoria shakes her head."Unfortunately not, father. I am sorry to disappoint you, but I am unaware of what that man plans to do." Florian's expression softened before he nodded.

"It's okay, dearest. It isn't your fault."

She hummed, continuing to walk.

I'm more scared of what's going to happen. Whatever that man is going to do… He could do it any minute.

[amandamgsblog]

Chapter 1 - College and First Impressions

"I'm tired. I want to go out of here".

Amanda's POV

7:30 in the morning and I'm woken up by a loud knock on the door:

— Amanda, wake up! Half past seven! Have you forgotten that today is your first day at college?

— I'm comiiiing! - I wake up and stretch out on the bed. - I shiver when she knocks on the door, it's like she's going to burst in…

Hi, how are you? Yes, you're the one behind the screen. I'm Amanda, I'm eighteen and today, unfortunately, I'm starting college. I graduated from school two months ago, but in an attempt to “not waste my time doing nothing”, as my mother always says, she forced me to choose a course in a short time.

I chose Languages and Literature because I love Portuguese, especially grammar, and English too. I've always liked literature. I hope it works out, because I discarded all the other courses because I thought they didn't suit me at all. ~cof Exact Sciences and Biology cof ~

I go into the kitchen, kiss my mother on the cheek and get the food from the fridge. Me, my mother and my sister, who is ten years older than me, live in an apartment. My parents split up soon after I was born, but they lived together in the same house until I was ten. Then they each moved into their own apartment. Oh, and there are my pets!

Shakira (yes, because of the singer) and Lola are my cockatiels, and Tião is our parrot. I've always loved animals, but I have a passion for birds. I don't know what I'd do without mine…

— Excited? - My mother, Melissa, asks.

— No… - I look back at my plate. — Mom, I don't even know if it's going to work out. Isn't it better if I wait a year?

— We've already talked… - She's serious. - I didn't raise you practically alone so you wouldn't have a job.

She's always been overprotective when it comes to me… She had a complication during my pregnancy and I had to be rushed out when she was at the fifth month of pregnancy. I was born prematurely, weighing just over 21.1 oz, and because of the lack of oxygen at birth, I have some problems with my speech and walking. But compared to what I was born with, I'm a thousand times better.

I roll my eyes and speak with fear:

— You know how insecure I am… What if the bullying comes back?

When I was a little kid, about four years old, there were jokes like “gee, don't you run?” or “what about that strange thing on your leg?”, which was my boot that helped me walk, or the worst: “You speak too quietly.”

I remembered at that moment the laughter I received. With the lack of oxygen at birth, my brain stopped working and affected the entire left side of my body, where the damage was most severe, and the right side too, to a much lesser degree. But I'm glad I can move. My left vocal cord hardly moves at all, so all the work is left to the right. The result: my voice is much lower and hoarser than that of the average person, even though I've had various treatments over the years. But it could be worse, right?

My arm and leg muscles have also been affected: I have much less strength than “normal” people and have difficulty walking on my left side. Then, when I played or ran, the children would talk… But we were children, so I didn't even know what was happening. Everything got worse when I changed schools in sixth grade. I fell for a boy, he found out and started making fun of me. It was my fault, too, because I couldn't deal with my feelings when I found out that he hated me, in actually and that he was dating several girls. I begged him to date me and he threatened to record it and put it on the internet. Both he and I were idiots…

From the eighth grade to the senior year of high school, I liked other boys afterwards, but for a short time and with little intensity. Nothing happened either, so I completely forgot about those boys. I remembered all this and started to cry. I hope I don't fall in love for a long time yet…

I took the cockatiels on my lap and gave them a piece of my bread.

Starving… It's like there's no food.

— Daughter, don't let anyone get to you like this. You're going to start college! - She smiles. - People are much more mature.

— In theory, mom.

I finished my breakfast and put the plate in the kitchen. I was going to walk down the corridor as usual, but…

SPARROWS!!!

The morning screams.

My parrot is Tião, or “green ball”, as I sometimes call it. Ever since the cockatiels arrived ten years ago, he's had a habit of shouting “sparrow” when it sees them. That's because my mother and I call them “sparrow”, because of the way they run around the house when they come out of their cage and because they're small.

He always gives a few shrieks during the day which, to be honest, I still haven't got used to. Even after fourteen years.

— You pay me, Tião! I won't give you any more of my bread either. - I huffed and went to my room to get ready. I hope it was VERY worth getting out of bed today…

A few hours later…

I've just arrived at the college I'm going to study at. My God, it's GIANT in here!!! I'M GOING TO GET LOST HERE!

Huum… Geography, no. History, Pedagogy, Languages and Literature!

I found it. Building 6… There's no map here?! Oh, the signs. This is building 1, just go straight ahead and you'll find 6… Easy… I found my name on the list. I walked down a corridor and found my classroom.

Room 115. You can do it, just go in.

I took a deep breath and opened the door. My jaw hit the floor. I've never seen a classroom this big! There must be sixty people in here! I've got an hour and a half to go, there's no one in the room yet and all this stress and lunchtime digestion is making me sleepy…

SNOOZE TIME!!!

I ran to the table in front of me and fell asleep.

Ross' POV

8:00 and my alarm goes off. Droga (Crap).

What's up? My name is Ross. And, yes, people here can't pronounce it properly, haha… My story is a bit complicated to understand, but here we go:

My parents, Stormie and Mark, are American and lived in rural Colorado. At the age of thirty, they had already been married for five years and wanted to move to a different place: Brazil.

Belo Horizonte, the capital of Minas Gerais state, to be specific.

They learned a language they didn't know, Portuguese, perfectly, and learned about the culture of the country and of the state. The whole neighborhood is in love with them.

They always spent holidays and birthdays in Littleton, my hometown. On one of these trips there, they stayed for just two days at my maternal grandparents' house, because my mother started to go into labor. So everyone stayed at my grandparents' for a month until I grew up a bit and we went back to Brazil.

Throughout my childhood, I followed my parents on trips. Not that I minded, it's really nice… During my teens, I stopped going as much because school wouldn't let me. Now I'm going to college and that's another reason why I have to wake up today…

— Morning. - I smiled at my family, who were having breakfast together, as usual.

— Hi, son. - My parents reply. — Excited about college today?

— Yes, dad. It's going to be great… I've always liked Literature, and then I'll be able to study texts from here and from United States at the same time and in a much deeper way. Who knows, maybe I'll be a teacher in the future?

— You will, hun. We're so proud of you. - My mother hugs me. We finish ourbreakfast and I go to get ready. I arrive at the college and I'm startled by the size.

I'm going to be lost here… Great, Ross, you can't even look up for a map!

I wander around the main courtyard, which is huge, until I meet some friends from school, Pedro and Artur.

They show me where my building is and they invite me to the cafeteria. We talk about these two months: the vacations, who in the class is dating and who is single, the courses, how the teachers at school are doing.

— Guys, even with forty-five minutes to go, I'd better go. It was good to catch up with you…

— It was great too, brother! Let's not lose touch. - Pedro says.

— Yeah! And this week there's a freshman party in the nightclubs around the college, they say lots of hot girls are going to these parties… Who knows, maybe our Rossy Bossy will get a one night stand? - Artie squeezes my cheeks tightly and says the nickname my mother gave me when I was little. — I can find you someone from Accounting and Pedro, someone from Business Administration.

— Won't you change…? And take your hand off my cheeks, Artie! I still can't believe you think girls are your sex toys and not people with feelings!

I'm impressed by the level of the conversation. Even though I was the youngest among them, a few months apart, I always acted like an older brother.

— Chatoooo… (You boriinnng...)- They both hum.

— At least I want to lose something so important to me together with someone I love deeply, knowing that she feels the same way about me, and when we look each other straight in the eye, I'll see a little bit of Heaven…

Okay, I've thought too much.

— HAHAHAHA! - That's great! — What heavy drugs are you on, bro?! I want some!

— None! It's just my opinion!

— He… He must… - Pedro was laughing too much. — He's been watching too much Romeo & Juliet.

— Oh, fuck off! See you later. And it's the 1968 version, yes! - I say goodbye to the two clowns with my wonderful middle finger.

I walk a bit and go to my building, which is a two-storey colonial-style building divided into two parts, with the office in the center and each part with several classrooms.

— Okay, building 6… On this side are rooms 104 to 109… - I say, pointing to my left. - So that must be 115.

I find the room and knock on the door.

As no one came, I opened it. I go in and see just one person. A bunch of hair, actually. She had her head on the table. She, because of her flowery dress and long hair. Between waking the poor thing up or not, I speak with embarrassment:

— Excuse me… Is this the… Languages classroom? - Nothing. I speak louder: — Miss, is this the Languages classroom?

— AHHH! WHERE?! WHAT? - She screams in fright. I tried not to laugh, because her hair was messy and covered her face. — Ouch… Are you looking for the Languages room? It's here.

She brushes her hair out of her face, but then reaches into her bag for something. When she lifts her head, I see what she looks like: pale skin, big dark eyes, hidden behind lilac glasses, and long dark brown hair, with light highlights and waves at the end of it. She was wearing a light pink blouse with flowers and matching pants. Finally, a pair of dark pink sandals.

She's beautiful… Stop it, Ross, you don't even know the girl!

You're right, head…

Then I realized that I was staring at the young woman, smiling shyly, and that I hadn't entered the room yet. I felt my cheeks burn. I hope she hasn't noticed.

— Hi, my name is Ross… What's yours? - I get her attention.

— Wow… - She says quietly and turns red. And I thought I was pretty red. — I mean, my name isn't “wow”, it's Amanda, haha…

— Can I sit next to you? - I ask and she, now Amanda, nods and smiles a little. — I'm sorry I've only asked you questions so far, but are you shy?

She laughs at my question and nods.

— I'm very shy. I don't know how I'm talking to you, really. I should have run.

— What if we talked a bit to get to know each other? And I'm sorry if I disturbed your sleep.

— That's fine. No need to apologize… I was just about to wake up. - We smiled a little. — I-I'm not very interesting, no. I'm eighteen, I'm from Belo Horizonte, I'm the youngest in the family, I study, I have pet birds, that's all…

— Well, I'm eighteen, I'm American, but I live here, I'm an only child, I also only study, I don't have any animals…

She widens her eyes.

— American without an accent? Wow. Oh, sorry…

— It's all right. Yeah, people are even fascinated when I say I'm American, they think I'm an alien. My whole family is from there, actually. My parents moved here when they were young, built a life here too, and on a trip there, I was born. But I was raised here and whenever I can, I go to Colorado to visit my grandparents, uncles, cousins, some childhood friends…

— Again: Wow. But… Sorry, what's your name again? Sorry, I'm still sleepy, haha.

— Ross. No problem. - I wink at her and smile.

— Ross, you speak Portuguese very well! It's great that your family is from there! You must have given them a hard time on the trip, haha…

I saw the girl I'd just met go from shy to excited and I felt good. She just needed a little push.

—Nah. They say to this day that I was a gift in the right place at the right time. I love my trips to Littleton. I always have a great time, even for a few days. The only thing that bothers me a bit is that some relatives turn up their noses when my father, mother or I talk about here…

I feel her touch my hand, comforting me, and I even look again to see if it's true.

— Don't mind them. Belo Horizonte is a great place. It's no wonder your parents chose to live here. - She smiles at me.

— Another thing that other people find strange is that I mix Portuguese and English on a daily basis. But I think it's cool. Of course, my parents taught me both languages. For example, I only speak English with my uncles, grandparents, etc. With my friends here, only Portuguese. Then, with my parents, either one hour we're in English and then in Portuguese, or half the sentence is in each language. It's like a SAP key.

— That’s so good, actually! It’s so hard to find someone who could speaks English to me. But someone who speaks both languages and that's foreigner, is way better!

— That’s really impressive, Amanda! I’d love to speak to you sometimes...ugh...in English...or in Portuguese too! I didn't mean I won’t talk to you in any way, it would be stupid…

WHAT AM I TALKING?! STOP TALKING, YOU IDIOT!

— Relax, blondie! It’s okay. - She holds my hand, seeing my nervousness and smiles. I don't think that's going to help very much. Even my ears have turned red.

— But even so, anyone I meet thinks I'm from Mars… I guess that's part of living in another country.

— I don't think you're strange, you're cute… I-I mean, it's good to speak both languages. In fact, if you were an alien, you'd be cute… F-Forget it!

I turn towards the door and see the teachers, but I can't help but smile and laugh a bit when I look at my side. I laughed because as well as being beautiful, my new acquaintance was cute too! After a while, more people arrived. There was an explanation of what the subject would be, I met more people from the class and continued talking to Amanda. We said goodbye after three classes and one thought stayed in my head:

I'm not going to give up on getting to know more about her any time soon.

[lindsaystravelblogs4]

Rainbow

Day 8  21 February

We packed up and moved on to Rainbow – a lot bigger small town than I imagined.  We got fuel at Great Western along the way and arrived here at 2pm.  It is a Council-run caravan park but staff from Dimboola took over the actual management of it yesterday.  It is all pretty informal and there is only one other van here so we had our pick of the sites and we are set up with a reasonable amount of shade on a hot day with a fierce day forecast for tomorrow – a windy total fire ban day too.

We have been listening to a Bryce Courtenay CD as we have been driving and we finished it just before we arrived here – The Family Frying Pan.  I don’t particularly like Courtenay, but this was excellent, numerous distinct but interwoven stories inside the main story and from what we have read, much of it is based on fact – at least some of the characters’ lives are portrayed pretty close to the truth.

Day 9  22 February

It was predicted to be 40 degrees today and by the time we had breakfast, it must have been getting close to that target.  We had decided that being out in the car with the air conditioner blasting was better than the air conditioner in the caravan.

We did a little bit of washing first up, and it was all dry within an hour or so.  It was very windy so we decided to wind in the awning before we went driving.  Some years ago, in Tibooburra, we went out driving and came back to find parts of our awning strewn around the park so we didn’t want that to happen again.

We were just exploring the general area and started by finding Lake Albacutya.  It was completely dry and we couldn’t even see where the boundaries of the lake may have been if it had filled – it was pretty much a non-event in the absence of any defining shoreline.  We went out to Yaapeet trying to find Lake Turkey Bottom: a place that the caravan park manager had told us was lovely.  We drove quite a few kilometres on quite a few bad roads and even lesser tracks and had finally given up and decided to just explore a bush area close to the town – and there was the lake.  It is in a free camping area and one campervan was there but we saw no people at all.  On the other hand, there were lots of birds, including twenty-odd Black-tailed Native Hens and a flock of about forty Red-rumped Parrots.  The lake was quite small, but it is obviously an important source of water for the birds and there were quite a lot flying around or sitting on the shore having a drink.  We had lunch there and then returned to Rainbow and circumnavigated Lake Hindmarsh – a much bigger lake but quite shallow with the shoreline a hundred metres or more from its ‘high tide’ mark.  We had to be back in the van by 4pm because Heather had a telehealth conference, but I thought it was an hour later than it really was and hurried back through Jeparit, arriving back in the van more than an hour early for her call.

It is a good job we moved on from Beaufort when we did.  When we got back to the van we received a text message warning us about a fire threatening the area.  Not much detail, but maybe a good place not to be today – as I said, very hot and windy with a total fire ban in Rainbow today, but no bushfires as far as we can see.

I mentioned the mini-flood of reminders we both got from the US Consulate to collect our passports with visas enclosed.  We did that on Monday.  It is now Thursday and we have each received a further seven reminders by email, even though we have already collected them.

Day 10    23 February

Another two reminders from the US consulate this morning so Heather rang them and they told her to email them, so she did and got a reply asking for a raft of additional information so they could stop sending more emails.  So far, several hours later, we have received no more.  Fingers crossed.

We did a bit more washing this morning – just a small wash to ensure we have plenty of things to wear – and also did a bit of shopping in the local IGA – not as big as Beaufort, but still very adequate with plenty of choice, for a such small town.  All the prices I noted were about 20% above Melbourne prices.

We spent most of the day in the van (more writing) with temperatures in the low twenties, but still very windy.  We went out for a walk around the heritage trail, maybe two kilometres, with good signage about a variety of subjects, but almost impossible to read due to the severe weathering of most of the signs.  A pity because what we could read it was quite interesting.

Tomorrow, we are moving on again, heading for Pinnaroo, just over the South Australian border.  We will make that our base for a few days exploring the desert area in Northwest Victoria and adjacent South Australia.

[im-an-anxious-wreck]

Hold Out Your Hand And I'll Reach For You Too

Chapter Seven • The Prince

Word Count: 1,132

HOYHAIRFYT chapter collection

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Fear And Pain

-

No.

No, no, no, no, no, nO, NO!

He couldn't lose him, he couldn't be losing him. This isn't happening, it's… happening. How could he let this happen?

How could he let Chrysanthemum get so hurt?

Roman gently, but as quickly as he dared, picked up Chrysanthemum and ducked down, trying to keep Chrysanthemum, and himself to a lesser degree, under the worst of the smoke. Although with how thick it was, he wasn't really sure how much it mattered, but despite not being able to see and his eyes watering heavily with smoke, Roman pushed onward until he finally made it outside.

He shouldn't have let himself lose sight of him.

This was all his fault, if he'd just gotten Chrysanthemum away before tonight, if he'd been better at getting G to— G. This was all G. Sure, Roman should've done better… but it was G that would pay for his colossal fuck up of a mistake. Or rather, what he'd done on purpose.

How could he do this on purpose? How much of an absolute—

"Prince!" And that was… that was the medic.

Oh, right, that's where he'd been going. Of course.

"What hap— yes, put him here."

"Fire," Roman said bluntly. "He inhaled a lot of smoke, and was wearing a corset so that wouldn't— wouldn't have helped. I got it off though. Use the dragonian shed skin if it'll help. Talk to you after when… it's over."

"Okay," The medic, 'Em' as Roman had taken to calling him years prior, said absentmindedly as he got to work.

Roman didn't stumble outside, exactly, but he definitely didn't feel as coordinated as usual. He was almost floaty but in a more disconnected way, seeing that he sat on a bench, knowing time was passing, so much time where was medic why was it taking this long what if he was…

After so long, so much painful and so many agonising thoughts, Em finally exited his tiny hospital of sorts.

"Good news, he's gonna be fine."

Roman jumped up so fast the ground seemed to sway underneath his boots, but it soon steadied, so he didn't mind it. Besides, nothing in that moment was more important than— "Chrysanthemum, he's okay?"

"Yes."

"Wait, good news. Is— is there bad?"

"Well, a little yes. But let's sit."

Roman practically collapsed on the bench, both from the relief from Chrysanthemum being okay and from exhaustion that this still wasn't over. "What's the bad news then?"

Em sat down and adjusted his glasses. "There was a lot of smoke in his lungs and while the dragonian skin helped immensely, he's still in pretty bad shape. It'll be at least half a day before he even wakes up due to the sedative I've given him. It should, hopefully, do its job and speed up healing while he's asleep. But he'll still need lots of sleep and bed rest even after he awakes. I imagine he should be walking of his own accord in a week or less though. I don't know if that'll be with a bit of assistance even after a week though."

"Oh, that's fine. How long until I can move him to my house, er, or one of our extra houses, whichever he'd prefer… my point is, when can he be moved?"

"Well, I'd say certainly when he can walk with assistance. I don't have like, an exact day, so we'll have to play it by ear. But for sure when he's feeling well enough for travel. I'd like to keep him a bit longer than is actually necessary just to really make sure he's okay and isn't having any complications. And I'd imagine that he'd rather travel on his own two feet to and from a carriage than to be carried on a stretcher."

"Mm, perfectly understandable of course. I'd… I'd like to see him, if I can."

"Sure, just don't expect him to show you a dance routine anytime soon. "

Somehow despite it all, and maybe just a bit from being so relieved that Chrysanthemum was okay (he was okay, he was alive and okay), Roman laughed.

-

When Chrysanthemum finally woke up —just stirred, really— Roman wanted to sing and yet also cry at the same time, but instead he squeezed the hand he had around Chrysanthemum's, and said softly: "Hey, Chrysanth, you awake? Can you open your eyes for me?"

Chrysanthemum groaned and tried, but just groaned again at the light, turning his face away from it. He tried to say something, but it just came out a lot like his groan, gravely.

Roman turned the dial down to dim the light and assisted him in drinking some water.

After Chrysanthemum pulled back, he managed to blink his eyes open.

"There you are!" Roman praised.

Chrysanthemum smiled a bit shyly before looking around blearily. "Wh— where are we?" He croaked.

"We're in the village medic centre, my house is on the other side of town, and then the, um, ballroom… wasn't a good choice obviously, so I brought you here and had our medic take care of you. How are you feeling?"

"Like I just had smoke in my lungs," Chrysanthemum said wily.

Roman smiled a bit. Good, he felt up to joking. "I would think so. Anything else?"

"Oh, I won't bore you with the details, although, I will say that I'm a bit sore so eh, but not too bad considering."

"That's good at least. I'm glad you're not feeling worse than you are. The medic is pretty good at his job, I think."

Chrysanthemum just gave him a thumbs up as his eyelids slipped close.

A moment passed and Roman tried to keep his voice soft and quiet as he asked, "Are… are you awake?"

Chrysanthemum grunted before mumbling, "Yeah."

"You can just give me a thumbs up or down for what you think about this idea by the way, but I was wondering if— well, that's not really a good place to start, or… no, not that either. Well, once you're feeling better I can move you to my house if you'd like."

"You sure?"

"Oh, of course! I can prepare the guest house here in the village if you'd prefer, but I have plenty of room at my home."

"Well, yeah, sounds—" Chrysanthemum let out a weak cough that made him scrunch up his eyes. "—Sounds good. Whatever's easier."

"Alright, you can stay in one of my guest rooms then."

"Okay. 'ma sleep now."

"Yes, of course! Get some good rest."

He was going to be okay. Chrysanthemum was okay.

Chrysanthemum was his friend and under his protection, and Roman knew that he'd stop at nothing to keep it this way.

G would never so much as see Chrysanthemum, let alone hurt him ever again.

-

Next

[bonnieisaway]

no but fr. seven was either VIOLENTLY malnourished or just has the MOST severe case of baby face i've seen in my life, because the difference between his youngest appearance (15) and his oldest (21) is SLIM TO NONE. the only real difference is differences in lighting or his expression

compared to thirteen who lived (barely) a better life, at least we know that even if neglected emotionally, she had a roof over her head and food to eat, youngest being 11-14 and oldest being 19-21 i'd guess. seven is like, BARELY an inch taller than thirteen

they make several jokes abt seven in the present: usually the joke being unshaven, inconsistent hygiene, or just general "Get Your Shit Together" jokes. and like, evidently seven doesn't really mind these jokes or pays no mind to them. but like. did these things happen as a kid too ? I'm almost inclined to like assume of course they did, even if he was slightly better about self care and such back then, he was a kid. we've rarely seen him at this age, but we've seen ZERO parental influences to teach him how to take care of himself or consistent routines or how do to certain things. the most obvious part has always been his eyebags: i don't know if they're just meant to give him a more distinct design or have an actual lore reason, but knowing this show it probably has a reason. if his sleep was that poor, (and assumingly, he still has issues sleeping sometimes even in the present, seeing the day seven left the island) that to this DAY he still has heavy eyebags, i can only imagine he struggled with the rest of his self care, if just to a lesser degree.

notably, though, the one aspect of self care we KNOW seven is good at is laundry: several times in the show he's been interrupted or attacked while doing his laundry, or you could see it in the background while other things were going on. which i think is a really good specific detail, because it's the one thing seven would have been on himself all the time about when he was a kid. we see his outfit get torn, ripped, stabbed and bloodstained CONSTANTLY.

which is like. insane attention to detail and characterization. like of course he'd be consistent with his laundry, and he'd fucking wolf down any meal he knew was safe and warm, and he'd still sometimes have issues with sleeping (aside from the one time we see him struggle to sleep in s3, he's also constantly up late at night, on the roof of the shop or out working). but if it came to actually taking care of himself outside of that, he'd barely ever pay mind to it cause what does it matter, right? he's alive and that's what counted. obviously now, this isn't a conscious thought he has (at least on the island) and it matters less but that routine and self thinking has to be so integrated into him. we also see one other thing he's good at: bandaging wounds and cleaning them. he spends a few moments in the series where he's bandaging dai bo or constantly checking on friends at the doctor, or sending them there for anything and everything.

also another detail (that may just be me overthinking): seven's hair is ONLY ever put in a ponytail despite like evidently being long enough to fit into other hairstyles . do you think seven never learned how to take care of his hair? or at least how to put it up. i had hair to my ass like half of my life and to this day i do not know how to braid or put my hair in a bun. like you always put it in a ponytail because it's the easiest thing to just get it out of your face.

this post is getting concerningly long . why i have i spent the past 45 minutes of my life overanalyzing wu liuqi's self care habits . im going stir crazy

sevens abysmal fucking concept of self care is played off for laughs but do u ever think he struggled with it too when he lived in xuanwu? like do u think he ever forgot to eat or sit down and take care of himself cause he was busy. or that as a kid he never set aside time to learn self care things parents would teach you because he had been learning to use a sword and wash off blood and only blood stains. that his hair would get in his face and bother him cause he rarely cut it . or that his fucking insane eyebags are from sleepness fearful nights and days spent chasing targets without rest