#her something that she can take back to finland OR she can use while she’s in serbia which i will do both. anyway byebyeee

[ashmp3]

merry xmas and happy holidays to everyone that celebrates 🎄🎅🏼😚❤️🫶🏼

[auspicioustidings]

Based on this. You are in Finland full of self-loathing and the 141 needs a fat wife if they want to win some beer.

You aren't exactly on holiday in Finland. It should be your honeymoon but since you caught your groom balls deep in your maid of honour you instead have used it as an escape from the country. You just cannot be around the people you love right now, can't have them all look at you with all that pity. Even worse is that some of them probably don't even blame him. Your former best friend is a size 8, perfect hourglass figure. Your former partner is trim and decently fit. They look like they belong together more than you and him ever did.

You hate yourself. You hate looking in the mirror. You hate how clothes fit you. You deserved it you think.

"Not a chance MacTavish, that's my wife!"

"Away and biel yer heid, I saw her first!"

"Actually I saw her first!"

"I outrank all of you muppets so I think you'll find that is my wife!"

It's a racket in the little cafe but you don't pay much mind, still just staring out the window and wondering if you could ever deserve anything. One of the servers comes to take your empty cup and grins at you, telling you in her heavy accent that she would personally go for the one with the mask since he's the biggest. You don't understand when you look around and there are a lot of locals smiling happily over at you while four Greek Gods of men are having a scuffle, moving slowly in your direction. More people chip in, arguing about who you should pick, some lamenting that they would claim you themselves if they thought they could.

One big man does try, basically some Viking God, but he's playfully (you hope it's playful) spear tackled by the man with the mohawk before he laughs and backs off.

When Gaz with warmed cheeks and excitement in his eyes gets to you while Soap is busy with the viking and Ghost and Price are wrestling one another he asks if you'd do him the honour of being his wife. You nearly choke, but he explains that the wife carrying competition is today. You look around, bewildered, ask him why he wouldn't pick any of the other women in here given that they are all gorgeous slim things.

"Fuck all use to us, need a nice soft bird with lots of fat" says the man in the mask.

Price scowls and whacks his lieutenant upside the head because he sees how you look a second away from crying.

"You're gorgeous sweetheart, he didn't mean anything by it. The prize is the wife's weight in beer though, so he's right about a little lady not being much use."

You don't know what to say. You don't know if this is mortifying or not given that everyone around you seems to not be looking at you with sneers or laughing at you, but instead looking with soft smiles that convey fondness. They think this is adorable.

"Dinnae listen tae their nice soft birds and sweethearts! I'll be a better husband bonnie. I'm shorter aye bit look at the power in these legs, naw going tae drop ye. And I'll split that beer 50/50!"

And then they're arguing. The four of them are arguing and trying to put forward a case to you about why they would be the best husband. When it starts to get raunchy, you fluster and stop them. But fluster is something. It's not self loathing. It's been weeks since you felt anything but self loathing. So even though you are sure everyone can feel the heat rolling off of you in waves at how bashful you are under so much attention from such attractive men, you pick one (the others are devastated but vow that you're only a wife for the competition, that after they should get another shot at convincing you that they're the best option).

And they do. Even though the man you picked doesn't win (gets DQ'd actually since you are heavy and he decided that you were getting over that damn finish line so the four of them took turns) they take you out for drinks after. You think you feel humiliated that they couldn't carry you a long distance, but you don't have time to sit with the feeling because they drown it out with how warm and giddy they make you feel.

They insist that they will compete next year, so you have 365 days to pick a husband. When you make a quiet comment about how you'll lose weight by then so they can carry you the whole way, they nearly riot as they assure you that they would be a shit pick for husband if they didn't spent the year getting stronger so they can carry you just how you are. Plus they'll not be losing any beer thank you very much.

By the time the next wife carrying competition rolls around you are a different person. You're wearing clothes that fit instead of trying to hide your body. You laugh and flirt back with the barista instead of assuming they are making fun of you by flirting. And you don't care if your husband makes it over the finish line, just that you have fun and laugh and joke about the attempt. Of course it's not entirely certain who that husband is yet, got to keep them on their toes after all.

[youcouldmakealife]

SOTM: Erin/Julius; cosmic vertigo

For the prompt: More Erin and Julius understanding each other on a deep level

“Have you ever thought about the universe?” Julius says.

“I get a headache whenever I do, so I mostly try to avoid it,” Erin says, then, feeling Julius’ eyes on her, “Yeah, I guess. You’ve got to narrow it down a little from ‘literally everything in existence’ for me to figure out what you're getting at, though.”

“How things — change, I guess,” Julius says. “How if something went just a little differently, your life could be completely different too.”

“So like alternate universes,” Erin says, relieved. That’s much less likely to give her a headache. Not unlikely, but thinking about what, exactly, exists past forever? What a constantly expanding universe is expanding into? The last time Erin let herself think about it too long she ended up with a migraine. Possibly a coincidence, but she’s not risking it. That thing lasted two days.

“Yes,” Julius says. “If I was drafted one pick higher, or lower, I would never have come to Edmonton.”

“And you wouldn’t have met Jared, and therefore me, and neither of us would be lying in this bed right now talking about the universe,” Erin says. “Something like that?”

“Something like that,” Julius echoes, then gazes at her for a long moment, not speaking.

“Stop measuring how good a consolation prize I am,” Erin says. Doesn’t matter how great he thinks she is: nobody’s great enough to make up for the pain and suffering of playing for the Edmonton Oilers.

Julius’ mouth quirks, like she’s said it out loud.

“You’re alright,” he says.

“Thanks,” Erin says. “I do my best.”

“Worth coming here,” Julius says.

“Let’s not get too crazy here,” Erin says.

Under the covers, Julius finds where she’s laced her hands on her stomach and prises the nearest away so he can lace his own fingers through it, that hand thief. She likes to sleep like she’s in a coffin and he knows that. Still, she supposes she can lend it to him for a little while.

“Feeling philosophical tonight, are we?” Erin asks.

She doesn’t have to ask why: he’s going back to Finland in two days. Only for a month, before he flies back to Alberta to train with Jared and his buds in Calgary. She doesn’t have to ask why for that either. Dude isn’t going to train in a city he’s never even lived in, a city that hates his guts, just because he misses her brother, though she’s sure Jared would argue otherwise. She won’t make him say it.

“I can come,” Erin says. “If you want me to. I can come.”

Julius blows out a breath. “Next time,” he says.

“Sure,” Erin says. “It’s not — it doesn’t expire or anything. Standing offer. I mean, unless I have something else going on. Then you’re shit out of luck.”

“I will make sure your schedule is clear,” Julius says.

“Thanks,” Erin says. “Thoughtful of you.”

“Would you like your hand back?” Julius says. Erin doesn’t think she’s imagining the reluctance. A month’s not really a long time if the universe is your scale, but if it isn’t, well. It’s long enough.

“That’s okay,” Erin says. “You can have it a bit longer.”

*

So the thing is, when Erin told Julius she’d go to Finland with him, well — it isn’t that she didn’t mean it, because she did, it’s just that she sort of figured that at some point between her saying that and him taking her up on it, she might just spontaneously get past her fear of flying.

Except, fear is such a strong word, isn’t it? She’s fine. She’s been on planes without dying. She even hopped on a plane to see the Canucks host the Oilers — would someone with a lifelong fear of planes do that?

And yeah, sure, it was only ninety minutes, and by the time she quit telling herself that they probably weren't all going to die — but if they did, they better not fuck up and identify her as Bryce’s girlfriend in all the death announcements — they’d pretty much already begun the descent.

Then, once she was done a new recital of how they probably weren't to die — at least they’d better not, because Bryce would feel so guilty about inviting her — they were taxiing to the gate.

And while, like, statistically, that was one of the most dangerous times, like how parking lots and the kilometre around your house are the places you’re most likely to get into an accident, it’s hard to work up the same panic when you’re like, twenty feet in the air instead of twenty thousand.

The flight back wasn’t too bad either, and by the end of the trip, she thought she might have even gotten over that whole fear of flying thing.

She was incorrect.

The thing is, she actually did okay on the flight to Toronto. It helped that it was first thing in the morning, and apparently sleepiness beats out panic, a fact she’s going to be taking advantage of in the future. She genuinely thought she'd reached the other side of it, but the flight to Amsterdam has quickly proven her wrong.

Planes aren’t supposed to shake. And dip! She swears they started to drop out of the sky at one point. Julius said that it was a normal amount of turbulence, but frankly, no turbulence is normal, is it? Sure, it can be a typical amount of turbulence, but normal? They’re in a metal tube in the sky, being thrown around by wind. Erin does not consider any of that to be normal.

“You didn’t tell me you don’t like flying,” Julius says, so quietly Erin can hardly hear him over the almost deafening plane sound nobody else seems to be bothered by. Erin thinks that’s pretty big of him, considering she’s had his hand in a death grip since the turbulence began, and she hasn’t relinquished it even now that it’s finally stopped. In his shoes, she’d probably be going with ‘you know these hands make millions, right?’.

Money that means she’s flying in comfort, if not…comfort. For some reason, Erin thought it’d be easier to deal with things in business class. She doesn’t know why — in a plane crash, the front of the plane is the least likely to survive. But hey, at least Erin got free champagne.

The champagne didn’t help. She hadn’t really thought it would, but she’d been hoping.

“Oh, I don’t know if I’d say I don’t like it,” Erin says. It comes out in a voice she's never heard in her entire life, so perky it’s almost shrill.

“Something stronger?” Julius asks, looking about as disturbed by Stepford Erin as she is. She doesn’t know if he’s talking about the word she’d use or the next drink she should have, but either way the answer's probably yes.

“Do you want your hand back?” Erin asks. It’s not so much an offer as a genuine question, because she’s not sure her hand will unclench for long enough to release it, and she’d probably grab it again the next time the plane started rocking, though maybe she can figure something else out. Grab his thigh or something. It also makes him millions, but it can probably hold up to the abuse a little better.

“You can have it the entire flight if you need,” Julius says. “And for the others.”

Erin’s really, really been trying not to think about the fact there are more flights after this one. Plural.

“Might make it hard to eat,” Erin says. He has the window seat — no fucking way she wants to see just how high up they are, even though she already intellectually knows it — and she’s had custody of his right hand since take off.

“I can figure it out,” Julius says, stroking his thumb over her knuckles. It isn’t quite relaxing — nothing is, right now, not with that damn plane noise — but it’s, you know, not not relaxing, which makes it better than pretty much everything in the world at the moment. It makes Erin’s eyes prickle.

“I know it’s irrational,” Erin says. “I’m well aware of all the statistics, and that it’s safer than basically every kind of transportation. I know. It’s ridiculous. I'm being ridiculous.”

“We can drive,” Julius says. “When we get to Helsinki. We can drive instead. Or take the train.”

Erin tips her head back, trying to keep the tears from spilling. That still leaves Amsterdam to Helsinki, but one flight is better than two. “How long a drive is it?” Erin says.

“Does it matter?” Julius asks.

Erin shakes her head, and when they fall, she swipes at them with her free hand.

“We can drive,” Julius says, thumb tracing back and forth, and Erin focuses on it, the slow sweep of his skin against hers, until the flight attendant comes, asking if they’d like something to drink.

“Champagne,” Erin says. “Please.”

“Two,” Julius says, even though he didn’t even finish his first. “Please.”

“What are we celebrating?” the flight attendant chirps, and Erin stares up at her, unable to muster even a weak smile. Beside her, Julius must be pulling out the ‘dumb fucking question’ face he gives reporters, because the flight attendant says, bright and fake as Stepford Erin, “Two glasses of champagne,” then hurries on to the next seats.

“People,” Julius murmurs, and Erin slides down, twisting in her seat until she can put her head on his shoulder. Probably makes it harder than she needs to, since she refuses to give up Julius’ hand the entire time, but he doesn’t complain, just keeps up the slow sweep of his thumb, and when she finally makes herself comfortable — or, as comfortable as she can, considering the circumstances — he kisses her hair.

“Sorry about stealing your hand,” Erin says. She really hopes he doesn’t think it’s an offer to give it back, because he’ll be disappointed.

“That’s okay,” Julius says. “I don’t need it for my job or anything.”

Erin decides to hold on a little tighter, just for that.

[nourangul]

Missed Connections

It's my first attempt at anything x reader, but thanks to a few notes from @darktrashsoulbear I think I've gotten it. I hope so at least. Comments are always welcome. Reader uses she/her pronouns. Now to enjoy another Ewan Mitchell x Reader oneshot!

————————————————

It had been a last minute thing, Ewan had fully intended just to hole up in his hotel room for the night and rest with a book he was attempting to read.  He’d read the same page a few times when a friend on the crew called him–inviting him out to a local show.  At first, he’d been teetering on no, but had asked what kind of show–something metal.  Matt’s girlfriend knew the band, had even helped get them sorted out with a small label that wouldn’t take them for all they were worth and then some.

What the hell

He’d thought, he’d go and enjoy the evening.  More than anything, he wanted an outlet–to do something fun that made his stress melt away.  What better way than to go a little mad in the pit?

——

No matter the city or even the country, clubs were all the same: strobe lights thumping along with the bass of varying degrees of quality, shouted conversations to and from everyone and no one, the smell of spilled and shake liquor on top of a hundred perfumes and colognes with a base layer of sweat, the clank of ice and glass as overworked bartenders kept up with the ebb and flow of humanity in search of social lubricant. 

It was sensory hell before trying to get through the crowd and Ewan had been firmly left at their chosen table while he nursed a drink and watched his friends “dance”. It had at least started as dancing and now it was a scant step up from grinding. Now he was looking at anything else to avoid an accidental eye fucking he’d never recover from. Everyone was a stranger here and he wasn’t prepared for that, not tonight at least. 

Drink in hand, he headed outside to save some of his hearing and to have a smoke. A nasty habit, sure, but one he had no intention of quitting…

“Fuckin’ hell.” 

After a thorough pat down of every spare pocket he had, Ewan realized he’d left his pack of smokes god only knew where. 

“Ewan? It’s Ewan, right?”

A woman had come up to him and for a long moment, he didn’t recognize her. Was she a fan or…

“Yes… Wait, I know you–from the flight to Heathrow?”

“I thought this was you! Your hair looks good!”

He’d been dark blond the last time she saw him, not the bleached blond he’d chosen for the premier of the second season. He’d run a hand through his hair out of habit, a little smile at receiving a compliment from a pretty girl. 

And god she was pretty with that big smile of hers. She looked intimidating, but that could just be the nerves… Oh god, but that smile… fuck, she could light up all of London. 

A hug was offered and accepted, they’d become fast friends on a red eye from New York to London. Yet he hadn’t ever expected to see her again when she sprinted away to make a connecting flight to Helsinki. Fate was funny that way, it seemed. 

Their conversation was about everything and nothing. Sharing a pack of cigarettes he later learned was from Finland. She’d come back to London to do press for a new ep. Just like he had just finished his own press tour. 

Over shared experience, one drink turned into two, then three. His phone buzzed occasionally—Matt had been an unexpected friend and he was grateful. Tom was an even better friend and both liked to check on him from time to time. Especially Matt in this case. He and his girlfriend had invited him out. The least they could do was check on him. 

“You have good friends, they like to check on you. Nice for a night out in a loud club.”

“I do, it’s a gift.”

“Any of them here? I can release you if you want.”

“No, it’s fine. I came with a mate and his girl, they’re about to call it a night.”

“And what about you?”

“Haven’t decided yet. The company is good.”

“Hmm…” She played with one of the pendants she wore. “I could eat. Wanna get out of here and find some food?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

——

Which led them to perhaps the seediest kebab shop he’d ever seen, but it was open all night. 

It was the sort of place Matt’s girlfriend had called “a greasy spoon”. It fit: the tables were a little sticky, napkins were thin, the plates were almost as thin, but it was the best thing he’d ever eaten. Something about the beer, tobacco, and the company. 

It would be a warm memory, he knew it already. Knew it when he brought her back to his hotel only for them to both fall asleep at the beginning of some 2000s horror movie.

A perfect surprise. 

A perfect night. 

[my2phetaliaheadcanons]

How would the yandere salty spittoon react to their darling wanting to cuddle with them?

The world outside had long shed its sleepy trance. The foliage had returned and became greener as the previous months' excess moisture evaporated away. Birds sang their summer song as nature embraced its abundance.

Yet, the same couldn’t be said for the hidden home.

It was cold inside. The icy air that left the steel vents forced its way into (Y/N)’s veins and chattered her teeth quicker than a distressed sailor using Morse code. Fog puffed from her mouth as she huffed. A rapid turn on her bare heel caused her to leave the warm window behind her.

(Y/N) stalked through the halls. Glancing toward the rooms she passed for a hint of warmth. In her search, she initially passed the living room, ready to brush it off, but a new basket at the L-shaped couch’s bend stopped her.  

It was wicker texture and dark color, matched the atmosphere of the cage she was forced into. Maybe, (Y/N) thought as she stepped into the living room, he was being merciful. Crawling along the chilled, leather cushions, its uneven surface sunk as she moved across. (Y/N) eyes never left the basket as she reached the furniture's end. Leaning over it, she raised her arm, small shivers caused her to tremble as she peered down at the woven container. Slowly, her hand reached for the lid. Small sparks of hope sparked like fresh embers as she lifted it, but like a sudden blizzard, it was quickly smothered when nothing was found within.

She yelled! A feral sound of frustration as her frozen foot kicked away the basket. 

‘What am I going to do?’ (Y/N) thought as she looked toward her stiff hands. She licked her cracked lips as she flexed her fingers. They had begun to tingle and burn with the first sensation of the incoming numbness. ‘He’s made it so cold.’

Hesitantly, her head tilted upward as she debated between survival and pride.

She knew that the only aid HE would give would be himself. A simple offer of a lighted coal. One that promised survival and care, but that isn't what worried her. It was what it could become.

A passionate wildfire.

One that would blaze as he offered higher prices for simple salvation. The type that melted flesh and harshly numbed nerves, that would leave her wholly reliant on him. Yet, (Y/N) debated, that if she would take the plunge once, she could fight another day. Temporary recover enough to dash. Away from his winterous lair and into the sweet spring. Permanently chasing away the freeze that threatened to render her immobile. That could leave her with no more chances of escape. 

Sighing, (Y/N) stepped off the couch. Her footing was wobbly as she walked toward the stairs. Ready to endure a minor burn, in hopes of escaping the coming blaze. 

Let’s not lie, they are all very happy about the bitter willingness. But each would react a little differently to it.

Canada: In his mind, it’s the first step of submission. The spark that could force her to accept that she needs him to survive. Though, unlike his brother, he’s not going to tease or hold her decision over her head. Instead, he welcomes her with a light hug as he leans back into the large bed. Once they've both settled, Matt tightens the grip of his large arms and smiles against (Y/N)'s head. This is a good first step.

He will probably use this trick again. For Matt, it's a good reinforcer after punishment or something he can use as a reminder of her place. That no matter what, she will eventually be forced to choose him.

After all, there is no one else worthy of her.

Finland: - Niilo’s not gonna make a big deal out of it, despite his joy. Mainly just uttering a sarcastic comment about how (Y/N) should have requested this sooner while pulling her to sit next to him on his office couch.

From there he lets her get comfortable under his arm while he continues about doing his paperwork. If she attempts to snuggle closer, he reciprocates with a small squeeze.

Enjoying the contact while relishing the first steps of securing her as his. Maybe this should be repeated. As needed of course. 

Poland: Piotr is like Niilo, he doesn’t celebrate or mock her submission. Instead, he ignores her. Now, this isn’t him dismissing his darling (Y/N). Instead, he’s forcing her to commit to getting what she wants FROM him.

Especially when she finally breaks to ask, Piotr will already be in bed. He has been sleeping after a night of work and will sleepily stare at her before turning over, lessening the pressure of coming to him for help. Though, never fully falling back to sleep.

That’s when she’ll slip under the blankets. Placing herself back-to-back with him. The shared heat will cause her to drift to sleep, deep enough that she’ll only realize the cuddles when she awakes. A simple way to force contact and make her adjust.

Russia: Viktor happily views her desire for him as the first step in domestication and wants her to know that. So, he’ll make her admit it. Usually by questioning her on why? For weeks now, she’s been nothing more than a fractious cat, why the sudden submission?

This interrogation continues until, in frustration and exhaustion, (Y/N) yells out that she needs him. That without him she risks horrible damage or death.

Only then does he let her into his arms. Ready to soothe away the chill for a time. Before continuing the process of adapting (Y/N) to her new role.

Cuba: Hector’s face won’t change when (Y/N) walks in. When she starts to ask about warmth, he just stares. He waits for her to make her intentions known. As in a full-on blunt statement like “Please cuddle me.” Or “I’m freezing, can I share the ‘only’ blanket in the house with you?”. Once that’s said, Hector will open his arms or lift the blanket letting her get what he’s been withholding.

As she fully settles against his side, his mind can’t help but wonder what other ideas his ‘friends’ have that could get him faster results.

[niuniente]

Do you have any advice for getting back into art/drawing? It feels overwhelming

It seems to be a reoccuring theme lately based on so many artists' comments I've seen lately.

I think you just need to allow yourself to rest first as much as needed. Drawing isn't going to go anywhere and if it's not your primary source of income so that you NEED to draw every single day whether you want it or not, then rest.

I have heard this tip; when returning back to drawing after a pause, draw just shapes. Triangles, circles, ovals, squares, hearts, stars. Aimlessly just draw to wake up your brain and muscles. You can keep doing this as long as you want.

Other tip, mainly for inspiration, I encountered was to draw just random shapes. Even better, draw them with colors. Then, try to draw these shapes into something tangible; this one is a bear, this one if a sunset, this one is a plant, this one is a cat with a hat.

Coloring coloring book images might also work. Sometimes when I can't draw I find that I enjoy aimless coloring.

My friend, who works in a creative field and has to be able to produce creative stuff daily, year after year, refills her inspiration and energy tanks by going to check other art than what she needs to make. She also visits museums and exhibitions a lot - and listen to a lot and lot of music! For her, it's inspiring to see what other artists are doing with their own mediums. I also heard at work Finland's famous astrophysicists Syksy Räsänen. He said that while he works in theoretic physics and cosmology, what inspires his own work is art. He goes to exhibitions, plays, musicals, movies etc. and he reads lots of books from different professionals. He's motto seems to be that while someone else works in a completely different field, it doesn't mean that he couldn't find something inspiring there. This he can take to theoretic physics and cosmology.

So, in short, I guess, I would say that see how other people think. Maybe something there sparks your desire to draw. Or at least imagine! Imagination is also very important. Not all images need to be brought to life but I believe it's still important for all of us to spend time in the world of imagination to be happier and healthier.

What works the best for me is to rest as much as possible and get obsessed with something I want to draw all my waking hours. Too bad last time I was that obsessed was years ago. I honestly think that drawing FUZZY so intensively permanently broke me in some way... And it's OK. Sometimes we break and might not be able to return where we used to be, but art has never been and never should be a competition. It's a leisure.

[girldragongizzard]

Chapter 17: Second Megnitude

That voice, that insidious crackly hissing voice, begins reciting the most incredible clichéd pap inside his very mind.

“With a sky of dragon belly Where a fearful terror reigns While the city cowers beneath it We sing and turn your fate”

And yet, despite how ridiculous and silly it is, he feels something begin to happen.

—

Let’s establish another bit of important planning I’ve done, as I’m landing in the Eastern end zone of the Fairport stadium (it has an official name, that of some businessman, but I don’t care for it).

I’ve left almost everything valuable that I own with Rhoda. 

In particular, I’ve left my ID, name change paperwork, and SNAP and debit cards. The pendant that Chapman made me is not with me either. I still have my purse and tablet, in hopes that they’ve both got the enchantments necessary to survive whatever is coming my way, so I can use the tablet to try to talk to Säure.

Now, whether I’ll survive is a different matter, but I’ve also got a lot of things going for me at the moment.

I’m trying to focus on my uncertainty and anxiety, though, making myself a more obvious target to my adversary, hoping he can feel those emotions radiating from me. So I’m not going to reiterate just what’s going to save my hide right now.

But once my velocity has slowed enough that I can bounce around to face my incoming doom, I do so, and then I let loose with my territorial song once again, just to let him know I’m here and I’m challenging him.

“grrrrrrrrRRUMBLE-SQUAAAAAWK-NOKNOKNOKNOKNOK!!!”

I can see that the sun is about to start setting, shining through a string of poplar trees that are lined up along part of the freeway, visible just above the high wall of the stadium.

And just above that is the increasingly growing shadow of Säure, wings stretching from South to North like an incoming storm, his underside all limned silvery and gold from the sunlight.

His belly scales glow like pearls the size of Winnebagos.

They might actually be bigger than that. His size baffles me.

He roars right back at me and it’s a little bit like being hit by a cosmic oscilloscope.

I stand my ground.

—

Once she makes her final challenge, his eyes pinpoint the speck that is that whelp of queer ersatz royalty, Meghan. 

But his thoughts and intentions are dashed by the next verse.

“The smokey columns rise And dance in wind's refrain Pushed by wings of envy We sing and turn your fate”

Consciousness reeling from whatever foul Architecture these words are constructing, he does manage to remind himself that he can take his time to really burn this one, this Meghan.

He needn’t do his dive bomb routine. He can just soar and spear her with his death ray until the poem has run its course, and maybe even after that.

And he opens his mouth to do so, before his impulses can be interrupted by more words.

—

I do wonder which of us has the greater hubris. Säure or me?

He’s already made numerous mistakes, and he’s digging himself deeper and I’m sure he knows it. Right now he should be in the grips of whatever the Poet has in store for him delivered by Chapman’s speakers.

And, also, since he’s now become the new nightmare of Fairport by terrorizing nearly everyone in the city for so long, that puts him squarely in Ptarmigan’s crosshairs, if her quip about Finland was perchance a lie.

Some of the other stuff I said she said was a lie on my part.

And he’s the clear villain and maybe I’m the people’s champion. And narrative physics should be in my favor.

Oh, I hope.

However, I know that I’m far enough away from the infrastructure of the stadium that he can light me up without doing much damage to it. And I’m counting on magics and powers that are as yet untested by a direct attack on this scale. I’m counting on Rhoda’s need for me to be strong enough that her proclamation will bend everything in my favor, and this will be the only proof of that, if it works. And I really don’t know what Poetry can actually do. It seems almost childish to call on it.

Furthermore, while I think that my imperviousness to my own flames might extend to other forms of heat, that’s really only a wild guess. A fervent wish.

And then, there’s still also the question of whether I can even get him to come down and talk to me if his breath somehow doesn’t hurt me.

He could just try to land on me.

Worrying in thought takes far fewer words than what I’ve written here. I’ve considered these fears and swallowed them within the two heartbeats it also takes me to realize the Poet’s verses won’t likely be done by the time Säure attacks me.

And there it is.

His jaws move and his head becomes the largest sunlamp. I don’t even understand how that works, only that I’ve seen something similar in a movie. And it sparkles with static. It's a true laser.

My nictitating membranes have flipped up reflexively, like natural sunglasses, but I’ve still got brilliant spots on my retinas where his mouth marks the sky.

And every inch of me and the ground around me for several yards reflects that fizzing indigo-white light.

I can smell ozone, the turf smoking, and the hot metal of the goal posts baking in the laser.

And that’s without tasting the air with my tongue.

—

Once he’s started, he doesn’t even think. He just sets himself to the task as the hideous words continue to filter through him.

“We know you think you own us But your cries they reek of shame And we rise to turn and face you While we sing to turn your fate”

He can’t feel Meghan’s fear anymore, and he hopes that means she’s gone and no longer a problem for anyone. But he’s on automatic. He’s going to torch that spot of ground until he’s about to land on it.

—

The figure lurking in the control booth of the stadium watches impassively through UV blocking wraparound sunglasses that were maybe a little too pricey for not being actual laser grade safety goggles.

Even with them on, it’s nigh impossible to tell what’s happening out there. Not with human senses, anyway.

Timing here is going to be everything, and even though Säure is obviously flying in as slowly as he can it’s still a meteoric descent.

It might not matter if Meghan survives, honestly, but the world would be a nicer place if she did.

The modifications to the stadium’s electrical systems that the Janitor managed to cobble together at the last minute better not go to waste, either. That required a deal that was surprisingly costly.

Siblings sure do love to stick it to you when you’re desperate for time.

Behind the figure in sunglasses, in the darkness of the room, something large moves.

—

“No one owes you allegiance No one here feels your pain Struggle to no avail, Dear Säure We sing and turn your fate”

And that seems to be it. There’s a distinctive pause in that onslaught of supposed poetry, and his mind clears.

Just in time for him to cut off his own blitz, close his mouth, and pull up before slamming into the entire stadium.

He doesn’t feel anything more in particular. While the poem was being recited, something was happening, but now it’s not, and he has no idea what it was.

And as he rises, he steals a glance at the ground below him.

The circle that marks ground zero of his attack is charred completely black and he can’t see Meghan in it anywhere. If her corpse is there, it’s as black as the grass beneath it.

So he takes a deep breath as he works his wings, filling his blood with oxygen to feed his muscles, and to soothe his nerves.

What a nothingburger.

It’s all done and maybe now he can deal with the remaining Architects who’d swarmed his county on his terms, rather than that whelp’s.

He closes his eyes and imagines the peace of his soon-to-be newly reconstructed lair.

And that vision is interrupted by a, “wump, wump, wump, wumpwumpwumpwmprrrrrrrRRRRRRAWACK-NOK-NOK-NOKNOKNOK!!!!”

—

There’s a movie I never watched that had a super famous scene in it, like, back in the 80s. I remember my classmates talking about it on the playground, and one of my friends at the time just fast forwarding to the scene on his parents’ VCR when I visited so I could see it. I wasn’t at all interested in the movie, but this stuck out to me.

There’s a soldier in the jungle, and behind him is a muddy cliff. And as the camera zooms in, an eye appears in the cliff. My memory of it is that we see both eyes slowly opening, but I’ve gone back and checked and it’s just one eye that���s there.

I like to imagine what I just did looked a bit like my memory of that movie, the black patch on the ground slowly opening a pair of flame orange dragon eyes followed by an opening dragon mouth full of teeth.

Säure couldn’t possibly have seen it. He was too far up by then and I saw him looking away. I couldn’t see his eyes. But I like to imagine it anyway.

It’s pretty amazing just how covered in soot I became from that laser attack. But I also feel like maybe I learned something about physics.

I’ve definitely learned something about myself.

Is all this black ash all over me a layer of dead skin? Or several? Am I ablative?

Taking a deep breath after having croaked my loudest call yet, I glance down to find that my purse is now a molten wreck on the ground. All the leather is nothing but charred scraps fluttering around the remains of my tablet.

Shit.

If Säure does take the bait the Poet is about to deliver to him, and comes down here to talk to me, I’m going to have to lean on my emergency vocabulary.

I don’t think this is going to work, but I’ve got to try.

On the other hand, I also expect a few more attempts on my life, first.

—

“No applause is necessary. Snapping like a beatnik will suffice,” the Poet’s voice audibly carries a smirk. “And now that you’re my captive audience, it’s probably worth mentioning that if you take your human disguise, the bone conduction speakers installed on your horns will drop off. So, if you are done with my show, feel free to tune out at any time.”

He’s in the midst of arching his back and twisting to find Meg and slam down onto her as hard as possible when these words slice through his consciousness.

And he thinks this is easy. He can just switch to his disguise and back in a matter of seconds, incidentally allowing himself to change his position more quickly at the smaller size and weight.

But before he does, the Poet quips, “Oh, and please do attempt that at the highest altitude possible, Dear. You’ll want plenty of time to figure out how to remove your costume, afterward, won’t you?”

That gives him a pause of alarm.

Of course! He’s been played like a puppet this whole time. Why should he assume anything the poet is saying right now is the truth? It’s meant to manipulate him one way or another. He knew this while flying into the whole mess. Even if he’d stayed at home, he’d have been playing into their hands.

He can’t disregard what the Poet says, unfortunately. Which leaves him only one reasonably safe thing to do, remain in his true form for as long as possible. Morning Glory Stadium has been overdue for demolition and replacement for nearly a decade now, anyway.

Time to force that issue.

He could just land carefully, folding himself up into his humanoid form as he reaches the ground, to confront Meghan that way, but he doesn’t want to, and it seems like the thing they’re all trying to get him to do.

So, he scans the charred area of the field and its surroundings, but he still can’t find her. He likes to think of his eyesight as exceptional, as he can see clearly to the horizon no matter how high he flies. But the truth is, if something is small enough he just can’t focus clearly on it.

It hardly matters. If she’s still in the stadium, as her challenge seemed to indicate to his ears, he highly doubts she can evacuate in time to avoid being crushed.

So, he folds his wings and slams down into it with all the force of his incredible mass.

And as he does, he catches sight of something fluttering like a moth down the ball field, away from his center of impact, desperately attempting to get out from under him.

—

Maybe I don’t want to test being crushed, actually.

Just before he pulls his wings in to drop, I feel like I notice some kind of telegraphed movement and I just bolt. It’s almost as if I’m a fly that’s about to be swatted, and my body moves before I realize what’s even happening.

The greatest source of movement in my vision is now the ground as I’m sprinting up to takeoff speed, so I’m hyperfocused on that.

Blades of carefully manicured grass proceed toward me in the deepening twilight of sunset under the swiftly dropping doom above me. Every couple of divot ripping gallops, a white stripe of chalky paint flies under me. Sometimes I think I spot a bug, but I think that’s my imagination.

Wings are up, waving to feel the wind and judge a sense of lift while providing the balance I need to shift to a two legged gait, and I bring my forelegs up to my chest. I’ve still got quite a ways to go before I make it out of the stadium.

Which is good, on the one claw, because I don’t see any obvious thermals in front of me, and I’ll need that room to gain enough altitude to make it over the stadium wall before I slam into it at the velocity I’m trying to go.

On the other claw, I think Säure might just hit both ends of the stadium at the same time, he seems big enough to do it, and I’m not sure I can make it out before he does.

I take a big leap and I flap.

Two more flaps in quick succession and I’m airborne, and I just keep going. I breathe in as much oxygen as I can and I focus on that feeling of being chased I’ve experienced so frequently lately.

Either I’ll make it or I won’t, but I’m going to ride every sliver of an advantage I can think of.

And then I experience something fascinating.

Säure is big enough that he’s compressing the air underneath him as he falls. Actually, anything falling does this, though it’s more noticeable with an object that has flat sides, like a box. Drop a box on a dusty concrete floor, and you can see the particles being pushed out from under it by the wind of its descent.

Säure, like me, is normally aerodynamically shaped to avoid pushing that much air around as he flies through it. But he’s now attempting to body slam the stadium, to hit the ground with as much surface area as possible, and he can’t help but reflexively spread his wings a little as he nears impact.

And, with my wings spread, the feel of that wind is a bit more intense than I ever could have expected.

It’s warm from the compression, and lifts me up from below and behind like the billowing currents from a jacuzzi jet.

It’s almost gentle, but it makes staying upright in the air harder, and it pushes me forward at a constantly accelerating rate.

For a few even more terrifying moments I’m worried the wind will slam me into the stadium seating.

I’m now moving so fast I can’t imagine pulling myself up in time.

But as the air pressure rises, I’m less dense in relation to it, and the current also has to go up and over the stadium wall, and I’m flapping, and using my fire below me to create my own thermals, and it’s the direction I want to go, and I’m suddenly free!

And there’s parking lot, freshly heated by the now setting sun.

I don’t know if I’m quite clear yet, but it feels like safety and affords me the moment to wonder if anybody else happens to be in or near the stadium. I didn’t see any runners using the track, but somebody might be taking shelter there in the ruckus of today’s attacks.

Oh, I hope not.

And then the wind blows sharply and as hard as anything I’ve ever felt, tumbling me snout over tail, wings wrenched this way and that, just before I’m hit by a literal shockwave full of dust and debris.

There is a sound.

The entire city hears it.

Possibly the county.

They must feel it.

It has to have registered notably on the Richter scale, though I’m not on the ground to sense it that way myself.

I’m so disoriented and numbed by the whole experience, I’m not even sure I’m still alive.

—

In the darkness of trees on the lee side of Fairport Arboretum, as far from the sun as possible, Wentin steps into an unoccupied trail and opens its mouth.

It starts hacking and coughing just like a gigantic housecat with a hairball, arching its back and thrusting its face toward the ground.

Within seconds, its convulsions are productive and a person-sized lump unfolds from its throat and sprawls out on the gravel and mud of the trail.

Wentin doesn’t wait, doesn’t say anything. Instead, as soon as its charge is vomited up completely, it turns and leaves.

It has business to attend to.

The person-sized lump moves and starts to half-flail and half-brush wetness away from what appears to be a hair covered face.

“Bleh,” Ptarmigan says, instantly regretting the act of speaking as it exposes her tongue to Wentin’s digestive fluids.

Well, that plan was demolished.

—

Säure had turned and twisted, using his wings unintentionally to maneuver effectively, so that he landed on his belly, tail to the East, head facing the sunset. And he’d opened his eyes from blinking just in time to watch the shockwave of his landing slam the whelp Meghan into the wall of the Sportsplex Arena just across the parking lot and street.

That portion of the building’s wall implodes with the impact.

He starts to get up, lowering his head to glower at the mark of her destruction, to walk over and crush that structure as well.

And within two steps, he hears a voice in his ear. His left fucking ear, not his head. It’s not coming from his bespeakered horns. There’s something near his ear with an obnoxious, whiny voice.

And it says, “I forbid you from flying higher than the trees around you.”

[gakehc]

My Sweet Enkeli: Chapter 1

"Enkeli": finnish word for "angel".

When Noah Sebastian met Nori Nurmi for the first time, he knew he wanted her more than anything. She was beautiful like an angel and dangerous like the devil.

♡ Author's note: So this is the first chapter of my new fanfic about Noah Sebastian and the female character Nori Nurmi. I created her when I started to write back in 2011. Basically she's perfect because I like to think about my favorite musicians having some trouble getting someone's attention. We tend to see them as wonderful great people so I wanted to create a character that would be just as awesome as them. The band Forever Damned is totally ficcional, I created the name a few years ago and I have no idea if there's already a band with the same name. Blind Channel fans, please, stay tuned on this fanfic! The lady on the cover is Nori created by I.A. and that's exactly how I imagine her.

♡ Warnings: This is a work involving real people but it's 100% fiction written. Please remember that this is only for fun purposes and it doesn't reflect their real thoughts and behaviors. Don't take this work too seriously. +18 only. Nothing too sexual going on this time.

♡ Characters: Noah Sebastian × Nori Nurmi (OFC).

♡ Words: 2.386

♡ MASTERLIST HERE.

It's been one week since the tour around Europe started and the night it's about to start. The opening band is ready to go up on stage and Noah waits backstage so he can watch the show, just like every night when they are playing. For the first time, Bad Omens is touring with Forever Damned, an all female band from Finland. At first, everyone was worried: How will it be to tour with five womens? Is it going to be too much different? Are they going to get used to the Bad Omens lifestyle of touring?. Well, everything is working fine, except for Noah's obsession with the lead singer, Nori Nurmi. It sounds so cliché for him, but he couldn't help himself this time; it happened before he could do something. When they met each other for the first time, his eyes captured the image of a woman wearing a black sporty shorts and matching black top, her cherry red hair with lighter orange highlights tied in a messy bun while she punched the air and swung side to side just like a professional boxer while she was training behind the tour bus. He was hypnotized by her moves, the way her legs were slightly inclined and the fabric of her clothes was glued to her body and showed all her curves. There were sweat drops on her forehead while her green eyes were focused like she was punching someone real, her lips parted to exhale the air. He can't erase this scene of his mind anymore. Seeing her in person for the first time made him see how intense and eye-catching her aura is, Noah is totally captured by her Scandinavian beauty.

After seeing Forever Damned playing through the week, Noah already knows how the band works, most precisely Nori. She likes to do a warm up, doing some stretches like an athlete would do before a race or a match. Her outfits are always seductive and provocative, tonight she's wearing a black pair of shorts that almost shows her butt and a black leather corset, making her huge boobs pop out. Her high heels boots makes him wonder how she can stand on them and play a concert at the same time. Her lips are covered in a dark brown lipstick and looks even more appetizing. Definitely Noah is head over heels for this woman and he can't even fight against it: he would lose. But of course he's not tripping on his feelings - it's pure physical attraction.

The lights are changing non-top, the music starts: the show is on. Nori walks towards the center of the stage, exuding confidence as she faces the crowd that screams for her and her band. When she opens her mouth to sing, she starts to growl in the most insane way. It's not difficult for her to sound like a growling monster just the way heavy metal fans love. A red light spots her, she sings with a clean voice and it's like hearing an angel but, at the same time, it's sexual and makes Noah feel his whole body shivering.

It didn't need too much time for Noah to realize that Nori is a completely different person off the stage. When she's up there, performing with her four best friends, she is like a sex demon, seducing everyone and enchanting the crowd with her voice, always moving her hips with the sound of the frantic drums. But when she is backstage, living her life, she is sweet and humble. It's almost like she can't see how perfect she is. The way her cheeks get colored in an irresistible tone of red when someone compliments her makes Noah want to grab her in his arms and kiss her big juicy lips that are always covered by thin lays of lip balm. He wonders what it tastes like, strawberry maybe. Her light green eyes are big, surrounded by natural long lashes. Looking right into them is avoiding yourself to lose your self control, is to embark on a journey that there's no way back. When they are facing the crowd, they shine like the biggest star in the sky.

Time flies when Noah is watching Nori perform. Soon, their set is over and the girls are thanking the crowd, who seems to love them. When the singer leaves the stage, she goes straight to the green room, making Noah think that she is avoiding him. He is disappointed, he really wanted to say some words to her, but it's better for him to wait and let her have some privacy. He needs to get focused because, soon, it's his time to go up on the stage.

•

Since Noah had some issues with his voice while touring in the United States, this time they decided to go slow and have more days off so everyone can rest. This means that they are free to spend some time chilling at the bar close to the parking lot where the buses are. The mood it's nice, everyone seems to be having a good time. The bands already started to build a friendship and the guys are thinking that it is cool to spend some time with the five Finnish girls. Auri, the bassist, it's the perfect example of an antisocial gothic girl: she doesn't speak much but knows how to tell a good joke, always full of sarcasm. Her extremely straight black long hair is always hanging loose on her back while she tends to be drinking some beer or coffee. Maila, the drummer, it's kind of hyperactive - maybe that's why she chose the drums as her main instrument. Like her bandmate, she enjoys having some beer throughout the day but she is definitely more social and likes to be around people. Mirva is Nori's sister and is hyper focused on practicing guitar. They look alike, some people even thought that they were twins, but they don't have the same aura. Nori is way more intimidating while Mirva has a totally chill vibe around her. The last one but not least, Lara, the second guitar player, it's a blond bombshell. She's always seducing everyone around, flirting and making jokes so she can make the guys laugh. And of course she already put her eyes on Noah.

The two of them talk, Noah holding a bottle of beer while she drinks a dose of what seems to be whisky. These Finnish girls don't play around when it comes to alcohol. The bar is a small place and the crews of the two bands are enough to make the place totally full like they are having a private party. The lights are low but not enough to obstruct the view, there's a lot of pictures of soccer teams hanging on the walls and a huge TV screen that streams a hockey match. Nori is sitting close to the bar, her legs crossed while she slowly drinks her bottle of beer. She doesn't drink like their bandmates because she likes to take care of her voice.

Lara tries to catch Noah's attention but Nori is everything he cares about right now. It seems that something is off for her, like she is not enjoying the time with her new friends and crew. Soon, the hands of the blond guitarist are playing with Noah's hair. He laughs, trying to be nice to her but of course she is not the one who he wants to talk to; he just doesn't want to be rude. She gets closer but his eyes are not on her, they are staring at Nori, hoping that she sees that she is all that matters to Noah right now.

"Who are you looking at?" Lara asks, turning herself so she can find the spot that Noah doesn't stop looking at "Oh… Of course it's her. If I was you I would change my mind".

"Why?" he asks. Now she got his attention.

"Nori never looks at any man while she's on tour. The girl is like a fucking nun".

"Again, why? Did something bad happen?".

"It's a long story… and she is too negative. She thinks that it's not a good idea to hook up with anyone in a band because it will not end well and the tour can get ruined, blah blah blah" she rolls her eyes "She's so fucking professional".

"Maybe she didn't not find anyone who would be worth taking the risk".

"Believe me, you're not the first to put eyes on her. We've been on the road for a while, always touring with lots of guys. There's always someone full of hope that thinks he can have a chance with her".

Lara it's not trying to get Noah just for her, she doesn't care about that. If he doesn't want to spend some time on the bed with her, she just moves on. The guitarist it's just trying to give him good advice so he doesn't waste his time and energy with Nori. Now, Noah is unsure about taking the first step. For the first time in a while, he is feeling insecure about a woman. Now that Bad Omens has reached fans around the world he knows that there's a bunch of women crazy about him and who would give anything to have a chance to suck his cock. Is this kind of misogynist? Of course it is, but it's the truth. He can have any girl he wants - even though he doesn't find it fair to use women like that - but he already understands that Nori it's not like those girls. It's like there's a shield around her and that matches with what Lara just said about her friend.

"Maybe that's why she is avoiding me" he says.

"Mm, it makes sense. I can see in your eyes that you are into her".

"Is that obvious?".

"Yep" she takes a sip of whisky.

Quickly turning around to watch her friend, Lara sees that Nori it's acting weird. Just like Noah had noticed, the singer doesn't seem right. She seems bothered but she is alone, there's no one talking to her. Lara and Nori have been friends since teenage years and they know each other like the back of their own hands. The blond one knows that her friend is observing Noah talking to her.

"I think you got lucky" she says "Let me try something".

She starts to play with his hair again, and soon Nori drinks the rest of the beer in the bottle in one long sip, taking everything down her throat. Her eyes facing the floor like she's trying her best to not look into Noah's direction but soon she can't resist. She's staring at them intensely, wishing that she could be at Lara's place, her body clearly uncomfortable at the stool while she squeezes her thighs with her both hands. Her friend has seen this before so she knows exactly what's the reason why Nori is acting like this.

"Mm, If you pay attention you can see that she's slowly clenching her thighs together" Lara says.

"It's hot" Noah smirks.

"Yeah, I bet she's jealous of me right now".

Suddenly, the singer leaves, trying to hide any emotion that might be on her face right now. She walks furiously to the parking lot and Noah follows her. It's dark and there's no one around them, so it's the perfect chance for Noah to do something because they are away from the crew and their bandmates, from all the drama that they would create if he flirted with her.

"Why are you following me?" She asks, finally slowing the steps so Noah can approach her.

"Are you okay?" He's cynical.

"I'm fine. I just need some sleep".

"Wait!".

She tries to enter the bus but he grabs her by her arm, pressing his fingers on her skin. For a brief moment, Nori allows herself to feel his touch on her, how his big hand can hold her with such strength that makes her whole body shiver as a warmness grows inside her jeans. But soon, she starts to get mad at his audacity.

"Don't you ever touch me without my permission again. You should leave me alone" her voice is firm.

"What If I don't?"

"Then I will have to punch you in the face".

She's not lying. Nori has the guts to punch Noah right in the face and her fist is ready to take into action and make his perfect nose bleed. Noah can't help but laugh at the situation. She looks even more adorable when she's angry.

"You're a very bad liar, Nori" he says.

"You don't know me".

"So let me know you, then".

She's silent, her brain can't form any single word right now. All the strength she has is being used to prevent her from melting under his touch. Her red hair is matching the color that's in her face, her nostrils widening as her breath gets quicker. Noah is loving to see that, for the first time, Nori is being vulnerable. There's an extreme desire inside his body, an urge to feel her lips locked on his, to feel her tongue swirling inside his mouth, to take her body for him and possess her, touch every single piece of her skin. Her warm breath is crashing against him, he feels like he can't hold it anymore.

"Good fucking night, Noah Sebastian".

She lets herself go of his hand and goes inside the bus in a hurry, closing the door with so much anger that it makes a huge sound and makes Noah wonder if she didn't break something. He leans his back against the bus, slowly going down and crouching while he holds his face in disbelief. They were so close to each other for the first time, the sexual tension between them was so huge that Noah felt his cock awakening inside his pants. Even though he is frustrated, deep inside he knows that he made some progress. He could see in her eyes that she was very close to letting herself lose to him and this is what makes him open a smile. Her smell it's still on his hands: cherry liquor mixed with almond and touches of rose and jasmine. He's sure that she is going to be the main attraction of his dreams tonight.

CHAPTER 2 HERE.

[nei-ning]

I visited father and his spouce fast this evening. I was going to walk in but the front door walk locked, which is weird since it's never locked, so I started to knock on the little window. No response. I knocked 3 times before their dog, soon 12yo male German Shepherd (huge in size but is a true sweetheart!) heard me and he was RIGHT BEHIND THE DOOR! He then started to bark (he never barks at anyone and this was first time he barked at me) and it did the trick. Thanks to him, dad came to open the door, haha!

I had long and wonderful time visiting them, as always, while also petting Moksu a lot. Tho, it shows he's old. In many ways. Plus he has a lump on his neck and apparently it's sore. It very well could be cancer etc. not to mention he's mostly deaf and apparently going blind too. I told them to prepare themselves on letting him go. Propably soon too since there's no reason to make that sweetheart suffer.

I ended up telling them about my year after Verti's death, depression, anxiety, eating meds, autism etc. Dad's spouce was so wonderful and kind, has always been to me! Very supportive too. Not that dad wouldn't be either but he let us handle the talking.

She also saw my rash on my neck recommending sinc(?) lotion. Doctor had recommended it for her on her itchy skin disease. I could get the said lotion from local store.

Then we started to talk about hot waves, periods and hormonal issues and she has gone through the same as me! She, too, had suffered from early menopause, sweating so much she had to shower 2 times a day and change clothes often since they all had been soaked (in Finland you DON'T wash yourself twice a day. It's either only once a day or 2 times a week in sauna, usually Wednesday and Saturday evenings).

I told her I sweat like hell too and then I smell heck bad, needing to spray deodorant even between and under my breasts. She then looked at me and said: "You do have big breasts." Yes, yes I have, and I freaking love my girls :D I just don't like them getting sweaty since the smell is horrible, haha!

We spoke some more about my autism because she asked about it and I said something like: "I really need to kick my ass to get things done. Otherwise I just simply can't get anything done."

She said: "You need to be gentle with yourself. Don't force things. Let them come out naturally. Forcing only damages you more. Instead of aiming to do all tasks at once, do one little by little." She's right but at the same time I know I need to kick my ass a little bit, tho. She also encouraged me to keep crying whenever I start to miss Verti instead of bottling the grief in.

We spoke so more and I ended up saying: "I have never fit in society's mold anyway - and I don't even want to. I'll be my crazy self without giving a fuck what others think of me."

She smiled at me so kindly and said: "I really do like you as the way how you are. Always have. I've said this to you before. You always have felt like a daughter to me."

Just awwh! :D How much such words can lighten your heart! Someone in the past, probably my mother back in the days, told me what kind of whore this woman is since she was often with different men. Well, it's her past and she didn't know any other way of life back then. Who I am to judge her and hate her based on her youth years? We all have been young, some more "wild" than others, making mistakes too but it's not a reason to label someone for the rest of their life. I think this woman is actually nice and kind. I've never felt uneasy or uncomfortable around her. In fact, I get along with her better than with my aunts :'D talking with her is... Easy. Simple. Comfortable. I can honestly and openly tell her everything and speak with words I probably wouldn't use around others. I do like her.

Before I left, she and dad said to me: "Come visit us more often. You are always welcome here. This is like your second home. Take care of yourself."

Now, I know they like to be alone and in peace so that's why I haven't go there often. Maybe once or twice a year at max. Of course if I would have my own car abd license, I could visit them once a month.

[countessofravenclaw]

Breaking down some foreshadowing

So did you all read the new chapter of A Homeland This North, country dear fathers! ? Did you like it? Told you that nothing was gonna go wrong, am I right?

Honestly, if you follow me here, you probably knew what was coming since I have talked about it. Anyway, it's still interesting to see who was expecting it, since much of my writing is happy-go-lucky adventures with no actual stakes and I don't put a lot of thought into motifs and recurring themes. If my writing was looked at as real literature, it would probably be horrid. But, for this one as we have been building up to this since part one, I actually included some intentional foreshadowing. I mean the first alarm bell that rung in no one's head was the fact that they were not supposed to go to Finland originally and that it was due to Gastón that they eventually did. So, I decided to break down some of the foreshadowing I did that alluded that something bad was going to happen and it was going to happen to Gastón

Chapter 1

“Then let's let him,” Gastón just laughed, “Hey look, I turn 27 next week and be in my late twenties, so I gotta have the fun now.” 

“Well, I also have never skied—” Nina answered the question directed at her, “—nor will I. It seems dangerous. Anyway, I like the plan, there are other things to do for me.”

“I can live with never knowing if can I ski or not,” Nina stated, “I’m not athletic, nor do I enjoy it. I would just get myself hurt.”

Chapter 2

“It’s always good to have doctors as your acquaintances,” Isla nodded, “I actually recently was talking to Serena…”

“You were a natural in it, but you’re not 16 anymore,” Marco pointed out, “So be careful. The emergency number is different there.”

“I’ll make sure he doesn’t get in trouble,” Nina glanced at Gastón, “Thankfully, they can’t spend the whole day there as there is so little light. We did look up the emergency number. 112 is the most common one in Europe, but they didn’t use it at England. But I doubt, we’re gonna need to use it.”

“Do we really wanna go through that emotional turmoil again?”

Nina really wished that he could have come with them to see the capital, but his job obviously came first right now. Once they were in Lapland, they would have plenty of time. Even with Simon and Ambar and Luna and Matteo, there would be more than enough time to have just to themselves.

“Not really,” Gastón shook his head. “Just some things in the future that I might wanna do. But that’s the future, I have time to think about it.”

Chapter 3

“Tell her to talk to my Mom if she wants to fuss,” Gastón kissed Nina on top of her head as he sat down, “They can form a support group. They’re just scared that they’ll never get grandchildren if we die here middle of nowhere.”

“I still wish Mom and Dad would have actually picked if they wanted to be protective or not,” Gastón laughed, “More often than not, they just let me do what I wanted, but then suddenly they were convinced I was deliberately putting my life at risk. I’m still surprised they ever let me back to Roller after the fire.”

“Have fun,” Nina kissed Gastón on the cheek as he got up from the table, “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Us?” Gastón and Matteo glanced at each other. They had opted not to take any lessons, given that they had done quite frequent skiing while younger. It was to be seen how good an idea that was going to be. “Never.”

“Of course you are. Don’t worry.” Gastón ran his finger through a lock of her hair, “We’re not going on a black slope at the start. We’ll start off easy and be careful.” He leaned down swiftly to kiss her.

"I will never leave her side."

“Of course I have,” Gastón responded, “and so does Nina. We have talked about it a lot. It’s just not happening at this second. We have all the time in the world. You don’t think we’re actually gonna tell you when we’re trying? That would be crossing some lines. When there is actually something to tell, you will know.”

“And I’m not gonna question you any further,” Gastón finished his point before looking at the view down the mountain again, “You know, life’s really good right now.”

“Well, hopefully you won’t fall,” Gastón grinned and started sliding ahead, “See you at a lower altitude!”

“We took couple of green ones at the start,” Gastón started, “They’re beginner friendly. Wide and away from the forest so there is no danger if you fall or derail.”

“I wouldn’t try it,” Matteo shook his head, before looking at Luna sternly, “Luna, I’m being serious. Don’t try it. I don’t want to head to the ER during this trip.”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure April won’t want any part of this,” Gastón laughed while he had been absenmindedly playing with Nina’s hair, “and she’s not a doctor, yet. She will be a neurosurgeon, not a radiology tech or ObGYN. She won’t be able to tell a thing, but we’re very well situated if someone has a brain injury…or well, you are. She won’t be allowed to operate on me.” 

I just wanted to show this off because I'm proud of it

[abbatoirablaze]

Racing Stripes, Chapter 2

Word Count:  1.6k

Warnings:  morally grey! Valtteri Bottas.

“You don’t understand, Max…I have real feelings for her.”

“The American?” he asked, confusion lacing his brow, “the one that spent all last season with Bottas and Raikkonen and Kyvat?  Don’t you think her taste in men…is a little mature to be considering you?”

“She-she’s just doing what she has to for her contract,” he sighed, upset about what his friend was insinuating, “you know that.  All the girls do what they have to…but when we went vacationing together…wh-“

“You went vacationing with her?”

“She snuck out when she was with him in Finland over lockdown,” he admitted sheepishly, “Valtteri went out to the gym and she-“

“She snuck out?” he asked, cutting his friend off.  The thought of it alone was bewildering to Max, “what do you mean, she snuck out?”

“Bottas went out and she left her phone at his place,” he admitted, “I mean, it was-we weren’t gone long.  So I took her out on a boat that I rented and we went on an ac-“

“You took his girl?”

The question didn’t really seem to be a question, coming from Max, but rather an impressed statement, “you took her while he was out of his house?  You went out with her behind his back and everything?  And he doesn’t know about this?”

“No!” Lando said quickly, instantly thinking back to how they had a romantic day out on the water, free from any worries or concerns of their jobs, “and I want it to stay that way…Valtteri is a dick, and he treats her like she’s some plaything.”

“Because she is,” he chuckled, “all of the girls are.  We all know that.”  

“Not to me, Max.  I really like her,” he repeated, “and she doesn’t actually like him.  She just-has to do it because it’s part of her contract.”

“So, what do you want me to do, hmm?”

“I know I can’t beat him in the qualies,” he said simply, “but I know your car can…please…just see if you can strike a deal with him.  Say you want to try Sugar out or something because the girl you spent all break with is boring…I don’t know.  I just-I have to see her again…I haven’t seen her since I snuck to Finland to see her.  And I know that Bottas doesn’t let her have her phone when he’s around her.  He’s a dick!”

“I’ll try!” he sighed, wanting to help his friend out, “but I can’t promise you anything, Lando.  You know how attached he is to her.”

“Yeah…I know.”

Valtteri’s jaw tensed as he looked at the younger driver.  His gaze wandered over to Sugar who quietly stood beside Toto, taking notes for him, “you want to give up your spot in qualies if you make it that far…to me?  For her?”

“I want to make a trade,” he said firmly, reminding Valtteri what he was asking of him, “I’ll give you the pole position for the race if you give me first promise of pick.  That means you don’t choose her.”

His brow quirked, “I don’t plan on taking your girl, Verstappen.”

“That’s just it…I-I think that I need to try someone…different.  That’s why I’m asking about Sugar,” he lied, “that’s why I’m talking to you!”

“Different?” His curiosity piqued, “what do you mean by different?”

“Sugar…”

The Finnish driver tensed up once more like he truly didn’t believe a word Max was saying and was hoping that if he ran him around in enough circles, then he would trip up and tell him why he really wanted to be with Sugar, “why do you want to try my girl?”

“Bored,” he shrugged, easing into the lie, “I spent the first month well enough with La La…but there is no substance beyond that.  She just does whatever I want.  There’s no passion.  So, I usually spend my week on the sims and have her blowing me when I get too tense.”

“Simulated road head?” The Fin chuckled. 

Max felt a blush rising to his cheeks. 

He hadn’t ever had La La do that. 

Mainly because he knew how focused he would get when he was using his sim, and he didn’t want to be distracted.  But also because when he was with her, he just simply wanted to be with her, in that moment, in every sense of the word. 

He may have often made jokes that the girls were nothing more than playthings for the drivers, but he felt a real sense of companionship with La La. 

“Yeah…” he chuckled nervously, “so…do we have a deal?”

“Sure kid,” he smiled, seeming to ease right back into the moment without any hesitation, “I’ll be nice and share my girl…you probably got word from Raikonnen and Kvyat.  And it’s well worth the fuss.  She knows what she’s doing and takes the edge off.  But I won’t choose her…if you scratch my back in qualies.”

“What the hell was that?” Max growled, glaring at Valtteri.  The Finnish driver stopped, his hand moving away from the small of Sugar’s back as he turned towards the younger driver with an apathetic sigh, “you said you weren’t going to pick her!”

“What does it matter, Max?” he teased stepping up towards the younger man, “you came in 20th!  Your car lost all power.  You stalled out.  Remember? You weren’t going to get to choose a girl anyways!”

“We made a deal!”

“Yeah…and you had your chance.  But I wasn’t going to give up my girl if you couldn’t live up to the other end of your side.  There are other guys who would have chosen her, and I don’t want to risk that,” he chuckled, “and anyways, I’m a newly single man, Verstappen.  I have needs and they need to be filled.  And my girl knows just how to do that.”

“I-“

“Anyways…Norris came in 3rd.  He’s your friend,” he shrugged, “see if he’ll let you spend the night with your regular girl…”

“Bu-“

“Look, just because your girl doesn’t have any brain between her ears, doesn’t mean that I’m going to share mine…” he replied, cutting the younger man off, “I don’t want to spend the week alone.  Now, if you had a girl to offer me in her place, I might consider it.  Try talking to me about it again next week…if you manage to place.”

“I bet you think you were pretty smart with how that all went down…”

Sugar swallowed nervously as she looked at the driver that had picked her, her eyes looking nervously around to see if there was anyone that was close enough where he wouldn’t talk about it.  But she was out of luck, “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about, Valtteri.”

His eyes darkened as the elevator doors closed behind them.  His hand on the small of her back got firmer as he shifted fully behind her.  His lips ghosted the shell of her ear, sending shivers down her spine, “Oh, I think you know exactly what I am talking about, Sugar.”

Her heart raced.

There was no way he could have known about what happened the one day over break with Lando.  But yet, ever since that day, he’d been acting like there were two versions of himself around her.  One was gentler, treating her like a well-trained pet.  But the other was dark.  Dangerous even.  It was the more militant side of himself that made her nervous and on edge. 

That was the Valtteri that she was dealing with currently.

The Valtteri that would mercilessly edge her for hours on end. 

The Valtteri that would cuff her to the bed with a toy left inside of her while he ran errands, only to punish her if she came whenever he returned. 

The Valtteri that made it painfully obvious that he was the only one she should crave. 

And it made her feel dirty.  Because even through that, she found herself wanting the man that was barely a year older than her. 

How she had managed to find herself an F1 girl at 18, being immediately claimed by someone who was nearly 30 at the start of her career, only to find herself falling hard for the quiet, sweet boy who was much closer to her age not much longer after.

“WELL?”

She jumped, her own surprise catching her when she heard Valtteri’s booming voice behind her.  She turned in his arms, ready to face him, when the elevator doors opened up.  She was doe-eyed seeing the younger Mercedes driver had already changed out of his race day wear and had changed into workout clothes.

“L-Lewis.”

“You two okay?” the younger man asked, sensing the tension in the small area.

“Perfect,” Valtteri smiled, his hands quickly falling to her hips, “we were just heading to our room…have a nice workout, Lewis…”

“Yeah…you two!” he said, brow quirking.  He quickly traded places with Valtteri and Sugar, allowing them to shuffle down the hallway while the doors closed him out to their conversation.  She continued in silence, allowing him to lead them, until they reached his hotel room. 

She knew that it would be stupid to say anything.  Especially after running into Lewis, Valtteri had a chip on his shoulder when it came to him, so she purposefully never interacted with him, for fear that it would cause an irreversible shift in Valtteri’s personality.

She looked up at him when he didn’t move to put the key in the door.  Instead, he leaned down towards her ear again.  His breath sent goosebumps down her arms, and a shiver down her spine, “don’t worry Sugar…we have all week for me to remind you who you belong to.  And it’s not that spoiled little fucker, Norris.”

Chapter 3

[sparkleapple]

Eurovision 2023 Review

Albania - Albania's back to what they usually do, but I'm not mad at this. Considering we are lacking ethnic songs this year, we need something I like and I'm digging the electric guitar.

Armenia - After a few listens, I really like this song. Her voice reminds of Zoey Deschanel in the beginning though.

Australia - It's just there

Austria - I want to like this song, but acapella does not appeal to me whatsoever

Azerbaijan - It's to nice see that it's a locally written and produced song and not some manufactured song by Swedes, but it's not a very memorable song. I hope that doesn't discourage more actual Azerbaijani songs in the future.

Belgium - What tf were they smoking when they chose this?! It sounds like something that would play in the background when I used to work at Express.

Croatia - Hot mess

Cyprus - He has a great voice, but it sounds too much like an Imagine Dragons song... Not the first time in recent year they sent a song that sounds like another...

Czech Republic - Fun fact: This is the only country whose NF I keep up with for whatever reason and for the first time, they chose the song that was my top choice! I love it and I actually like the rap part.

Denmark - Sure it's basic, but it's grown on me. It's catchy and I think it's cool that he's from the Faroe Islands

Estonia - One of the better ballads this year and she has a nice voice.

Finland - Ooh this one's an earworm and he's one hell of a performer. I'm also a sucker for some techno and something outside the box.

France - Why did they select someone that's not French? Anyway I think it's. nice, but it's missing something to feel like a complete song.

Georgia - They didn't play around this time. They have a former ESC Junior singer and she delivered even if the song song isn't about anything.

Germany - The actual authentic German song we needed that won't end up in the bottom 5. The song title, "Blood and Glitter” feels gimmicky and made for ESC though.

Greece - After years of a tacofest, we got a male singer for once! The song is a let down though. It's pretty basic and I don't like cursive singing.

Iceland - She's got a great voice, but this is giving Christian pop

Ireland - It's just there as always

Israel - Really try hard and feels like a 4 different songs. I like the beginning of the song, but it gets annoying towards the end.

Italy - It's pretty and classy, but it pretty much sounds like your typical Italian ballad. Marco is cute though.

Latvia - Not much to say here, but I appreciate it for what it is and I've realized Latvia usually sends some degree of electronic songs.

Lithuania - It's just there

Malta - Another nation that is lo longer a tacofest. The song is not very competitive, but I like it. it's a fun with a nice saxophone.

Moldova - I usually don't care for their songs, but I love this! I'm a sucker for a great ethnic sound and Moldova accomplish this and takes me to a mysterious and enchanted forest.

The Netherlands - Basic and it sounds too much like a Zedd song.

Norway - I like a good techno beat, but y'all are overhyping this song. It isn't that special and I do not like her voice.

Poland - Oh my christ on a bike, this song does not deserve to be here and Blanka seems like a very unlikable person, yet I'm here liking the song. It's the type of music I would bop too, even if it's trash...

Portugal - I was expecting a nice ballad, but I'm not complaining about this upbeat song. It's been a while Portugal sent something fun.

Romania - Sooo underrated. If you overlook that mess of a national performance, it's a really song and he has a great voice.

San Marino - I keep forgetting about it

Serbia - I've realized it's been a while they sent a male performer, but I can imagine him killing it on stage and the industrial sound will stand out. I love the parts where he throws in some Serbian.

Slovenia - A pleasant surprise. It's one of my favorites! I hope they give Slovenia their highest result yet!

Spain - A pleasant surprise. It feels like I'm at a cultural theatre. I wouldn't be mad if this was in the top 3 (unlike the trash last year).

Sweden - Sure the song is good with a great performance and Loreen is singing her heart out, but I really do not need her here and I certaintainly do not want her to win again.

Switzerland - Another slow song? It's one of the better ballads this year and the piano is so pretty.

Ukraine - So underrated by fans. I love this song.

UK - It's a cute bop. I like it.

Overall, another bland year in a row. i couldn't even write interesting comments, but here we are.

[twittercomfrnklin2001-blog]

The Twin

A final twist should deepen the meaning of a film. Think of the revelation of the killer’s identity in PSYCHO (1960). It shouldn’t make you mad. That’s the sad fate of Taneli Mustonen’s THE TWIN (2022, Shudder, AMC+). It starts well and, though overlong, shows a lot of talent in building dread and creating an atmosphere. All that is wiped out, however, by a final twist that makes you feel stupid for being used by the filmmakers.

Rachel (Teresa Palmer) and Anthony (Steven Cree) are grieving for the death of their son, Nathan, in a car accident. So, they move Nathan’s twin, Elliott, to Anthony’s childhood home in Finland. You can see the strain grief has put on the family. Husband and wife are barely communicating, and Elliott insists on having Nathan’s bed in his room. Then Elliott makes a wish at a local mystical site and starts acting as if Nathan were back. At times, he even acts as if he were Nathan. Palmer is the only parent disturbed by this, with her concerns dismissed by Cree and the local doctor. This reflects an imbalance in the marriage. Cree had written a best-selling book steeped in Finnish culture and is trying to write another. Palmer has given up her own art (photography) to raise a family so he can write, and she does all of the housekeeping and parenting on her own. That makes it particularly maddening when nobody will accept her statements that there’s a problem. Just to amp the horror quotient, she befriends the local outsider (Barbara Marten), who believes they may be dealing with a case of possession.

All of this is beautifully photographed by Daniel Lindholm, and he and Mustonen create some wonderfully dreamlike imagery for the film. Palmer and Marten are quite good in their roles, and the child actor, Tristan Ruggeri, is formidable as the disturbed twin. Although it takes a while to get there, it all seems headed to a chilling mix of ROSEMARY’S BABY (1968) and MIDSOMMAR (2019). Then Mustonen and Aleksi Hyvarinen pull a twist that doesn’t just upset the whole applecart. It puts into question every feminist trope on which the plot has hinged. That’s so deeply misogynistic you may want to throw something at the screen. And just to make things worse, the twist doesn’t end the film. It drags it out even longer. It’s like being seated next to your MAGA uncle at a 12-course Thanksgiving dinner.

[blindrapture]

MONDAY JUNE 6TH, 2011 ("Doppelganger")

7:46 AM This place has a basement.

7:54 AM I’ve been waiting for a while now. Nothing’s happened. I guess not every basement is a rabbit hole.

7:56 AM Shit. It was only when I left the house’s front door that the rabbit hole “kicked in.” This is a library. The library extends far off into the horizon. It’s one big building. I guess apocalyptic monsters like to read.

8:01 AM “British people.” “French people.” “Spanish people.” …what’s down “American people?”

8:03 AM Millions and millions and millions of books, oh my god. The title of each book is someone’s name. …Rhodes, Annabelle?

8:05 AM I opened it, but it would only go to one page; every other page felt glued shut. The page was towards the end of the book, and it said “First they take my family, now they take the cool dudes in the record store? This is starting to turn from scary to stupid real fast. Meh. I gotta find a hotel, I’m sick of sleeping on the streets.“ These books contain our lives. That book contains the life of my ex. It’s.. surreal.

8:10 AM I found Fentzy’s. I.. I just want to make sure she’s not dead. I mean, the chances of her dying are very slim, but.. I JUST WANNA MAKE SURE. “Woke up. Dreamed of the Beast. Still finds me even in New York. Is it even real? I’m.. gonna try to go back to sleep. Hopefully when I wake up Dwyn will be back.” There, she’s alive, that’s all I wanted to know. And it’s a relief. Now, let’s see what else is around here.

8:17 AM Other people? One person. Old man. He’s entering the “British people” section.

8:18 AM ..he’s got my book. Holy fuck. He can flip through all the pages. “Good morning, young nomad.” afdijadjsi Hi! Um. ..where am I? “You’re in my Peisistratos. I let you in, you could say.” And who are you? Chuckled. Grinned. “Doppelganger.”

9:53 AM ..I’m in Spain again. I’m in a shop. The old man looked at me and held out the book. And.. he said something. I don’t even remember what.

9:55 AM What he said was written in my journal. o_o I don’t remember it!

10:25 AM I miss company. I’d even settle for Mistress. I’d love to just have someone to talk to.

10:39 AM Bright sun today. …wait, that’s not the sun.

10:45 AM It was a fucking.. You know that thing from Teletubbies, the sun with a baby’s laughing face in it? Yeah, that’s what that was. Except it wasn’t just laughing; it was in fucking hysterics. But it was about as hot as you’d expect a mini sun to be; I couldn’t let it get too close or it’d burn me up. But throwing the crowbar at it made the sun disappear. I don’t get paid enough for this shit.

10:49 AM ..ope, the babyface sun is back CAN’T TALK GOTTA RUN

10:53 AM IT’S LAUGHING SO LOUD I CAN’T HEAR ANYTHING BUT ITS FUCKING LAUGHTER

11:00 AM CAR ..the Babyface is crying. It’s flying away. The car, what the fuck. That’s a pickup truck. And the people inside are waving for me to come in.

11:13 AM These people speak English. They call themselves “freelance rebels.” They said Spain is mostly free of the monsters because of the SLCEMs. The driver asked where I was headed, and I said Manresa. Come to think of it, I don’t even know why the hell I’m going to Manresa. The puppet driver guy told me about Ferdinando in Berga, but I’m only going to Manresa because…. well, the SLCEM messenger was supposed to, I suppose. But whatever. It’s a lead.

11:19 AM One woman here’s from Finland. I asked how she got here, and she said she was lost in a rabbit hole for days. Oh god, I hope it wasn’t the Dogscape one.

11:30 AM Road sign said “Manresa.” Shit, that was fast.They’re dropping me off here. There isn’t a single building over one-story here. Everything that used to have a second floor… well, they seem to.. have been levelled. It’s like a giant sword went through and cut all the tops of the buildings off.

11:37 AM My paper says the second conversion will be of a guy named Danny Ligato. Where could he be?

11:46 AM Asked a person, they pointed at a building nearby. Let’s do this.

11:51 AM Found him.

11:54 AM “Ohhhh Danny Boy, the pipes… the pipes are calling.” I heard someone singing that as I killed him, I swear I did. He tried to defend himself with a gas canister, but I thrust my thrusty trusty crowbar forward, through the can, and through his skull. He’s not alive anymore, needless to say. ..I’m sorry.

12:02 PM Where am I even going now? The paper says my third and last guy is some dude named Gregori Rimara. But where is he? I’ll ask around. Lloret de Mar Right off the bat, people were able to help me. They wrote it down above. Lloret! They told me to keep going south. Said it was a seaside town.

12:09 PM …gunshots.I heard “el bufon blanco.” Fuck.

12:14 PM RUNNING RUNNING RUNNING I MADE IT OUT OF CLAY AND WHEN IT’S DRY AND READY THEN OH GOD I HEARD A MOTOR START RUNNING RUNNING FASTER I MADE IT OUT OF CLAY AND WHEN THE GUNSHOTS FALTER THEN RUNNING I’LL DO ALL DAY RUNNING RUNNING FASTEST I MADE IT OUT, NO WAY I’M PROLLY GONNA DIE, THOUGH SO TELL FENTZY I LOVED HER. …AY. ..THOUGH I’VE ALREADY TOLD HER THAT SO UH… TELL ANNA. I DUNNO, TELL SOMEONE. TELL ANNA, AND THEN TELL SOMEONE. I GUESS. ..I’M NOT DEAD.

12:39 PM I’m hiding out in a bathroom. o_o

12:41 PM Yeah, I think I’m safe for now. …yep, that was a rabbit hole somehow.Where the hell is this.Tripped over something. ..MOVING I’M MOVING WHOA LIGHT THIS IS A ROLLERCOASTER I AM ON A ROLLERCOASTER HOW THE FUCK AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH

12:56 PM Oh god, it stopped. The fuck was up with that. This is some kinda amusement park.

1:11 PM Okay, I’ve been looking for a while. Can’t find the exit. There’s a lot of people here, and they’re all shadows. Freaking Shadow People. Great.

1:12 PM I asked one where the exit was, and a whole line of them disappeared. The line’s leading in this direction, so let’s check that out.

1:15 PM This is a hall of mirrors, not an exit.

1:16 PM All of a sudden, the park is empty. ..maybe the exit’s through the hall of mirrors. What could POSSIBLY go wrong.

1:19 PM It’s just one long hall. I see the exit at the other end. A shadow person’s there, waiting for me.

1:20 PM This is one long hall.

1:21 PM …wait. That’s n.. the hall’s only half as long as I thought; that’s a mirror. There’s a shadow person at the entrance. …then where’s my reflection?

1:22 PM Oh dear god I’m a shadow. ..I need to get out of here, they say. The mirror is what could be. Where’s the exit, though?

1:24 PM I fell. Through the floor. Now I’m in a sewer.

1:28 PM OH DEAR SWEET Oh. It’s.. not doing anything. It’s a motherfucking alligator. But it’s not doing anything. It’s not breathing or anything. Just standing there, eyes open. Standing on its fucking hind legs. The fucking Bipedagator.

1:29 PM ..I can hear breathing. I’m walking faster now.

1:30 PM Second sound of footsteps in water from far behind me. From where that Bipedagator was. Fuck.

1:31 PM running running running i made it out of sewage and when it’s dry and ready then sewage will be fucking RUN OH GOD RUN ROAR HEARD A ROARLIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL GO GO GO GO LET THERE BE LIGHT THAT’S NOT LIGHT THAT’S A BABYFACE FUCK BIPEDAGATOR’S THERE CORNERED oh god no no no please I love life please no. >_< EAT CROWBAR BIPEDAGATOR KAY BYE OH GOD RUN RUN RUN TAKE A LEFT HERE NOW A RIGHT LET’S TRY FORWARD

1:39 PM Ladder!

1:45 PM I’m in a warehouse, just.. ohhh my god. I shut the sewer entrance. Now I’m safe. Safe, that is, except for the man in the room with me. ..that’s the creepy red-jacket man. o_o I stepped forward, and suddenly, he was just.. gone. Right, well. Door’s over there.

1:52 PM I’m walking through loads of hallways. No windows anywhere.Big double doors here. This looks promising.

1:56 PM Holy goddamn. I’m in space. The Sun of Nothing’s over there. I’m floating towards it. It’s actually just a black hole. Fuck Okay, I grabbed an asteroid-type thHOW AM I BREATHING, I forgot about that. Am I really in space? Probably not. I grabbed an asteroid, though. Now I’m not floating towards the sun, the sun of nothing. It’s also not really a black hole; I was wrong. It’s a giant eye ball. Not sure how the fuck I got the two confused, in retrospect.

2:14 PM Okay, uh.. fuck. There’s not really much to do except hang on to this asteroid. HALP? Fuck it, I’m letting go.

2:15 PM FARRRRRRRRRTHURRRRRRRRRRRRR AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWAY.

2:17 PM Yeah, so wherever I am now, I’m looking in a mirror. I see myself. I’m… uh.. This is a bathroom. Okay.

2:20 PM I’m back in the real world now. No idea where the fuck I am. Guess I’ll keep walking down the only road I’ve ever known, like a drifter I was born to walk aFUCK YOU SHUT UP I WILL SING WHAT I DAMN WANT

3:01 PM This sign says “Manresa,” and a triple-digit number. Fuck, I’m going the wrong way.

4:41 PM Oh my god I hate walking.

6:38 PM I’ve got to be getting close to Lloret, surely. HEY DON’T CALL ME SHIRLEY LULZ I’M SO WITTY

7:24 PM “Lloret de Mar, 69.” …heh. “69.” Heh heh. Ha.

8:45 PM God, I am exhausted. Fuck it, I’ll resume walking tomorrow. I gotta get some sleep. I mean, a Mistress’s bitch has gotta sleep, ain’t he?

9:11 PM This house looks as good as any. I’ll stop here.

(Attached: ”While ancient Greek heroes lost on adventures through other worlds often had to test their wills and the very idea of who they were, Jordan is not an ancient Greek hero. All he can do is wander through a thousand meaningless worlds until he thinks he sees meaning, and that’s when we can come in. Let me tell you about the time I met myself. Long ago, during my stay in a country at the time called Aegyptus, I had learned that people worshipped me as an arbiter. I used this as an excuse to step into human affairs and keep the peace; I broke up a fair number of atrocities and gave the people something to believe in for a time. But something about my actions in Ukhu Pacha still left a barb in my heart; how could I be the arbiter when I had revived the greatest threat to the universe? More on that in another note. At that point, the only thing I thought to be certain was that I had made a mistake. It was with this thought that I heard the unmistakable meow of the Omen marking my arrival home. And it is because of all that I have just written that, after stepping into my home for the first time in months and coming face-to-face with an identical copy of myself, I punched it– myself– in the face. He had no sunglasses covering his unseeing eyes, this doppelganger. His face had grown over with foliage quite thick: a goatee of pubic lice. His hair brought to mind Skwisgaar Skwigelf on a black dye-it. His clothes, faded surely with time his lonely friend, consisted of a rag so long I mistook it for a dress and shoddy sandals scarcely scraping together. He was exactly as I, a moving mirror, malnourished to the Bones. I felt sure our consciousnesses would merge, but no such mercy could come my way that day. Who would you say holds the obligation to speak first in a chance encounter between identical selves? How would English grammar allow that question to be answered? I could say I had the obligation, but if he is I, then which I is it that holds the obligation? One would assume, I suppose, that any attempts to communicate would likely result in both speaking as if one. Mirrors, bah. In any case, the sentence two sentences ago is a fallacy– experience, not identity, dictates action. I spoke first. By which, I mean he. -- What the fuck? Said me, or he. -- My thoughts exactly, said I the narrator. Who are you? -- I’m Thoth, arbiter of the gods. Who are you? -- You am I– Stuttered I, I am you. -- How is that possible? -- My thoughts ex– uh, yeah. -- What the actual fuck? The conversation went nowhere for a while. I apologized for punching him in the face. He said he understood and asked me what memories I had. I recalled my time in the past and my long walk home. He spoke of galactic fugues and leaving his own: The apocalypse took him or me to a land of confusion, as they said once in the 80s. I or he watched worlds breathe new life from within my or his self-inflicted prison in the skies. I or he felt so proud of them that he or I composed a funeral march for the evil we or they had just vanquished. This guy, I the narrator thought, was more pretentious than I. ..the narrator. I couldn’t stay there all day– that is, still I the narrator– so I entered Tuonela and immediately found the Colour of Blood, who will always find you. The other me, however, snapped his fingers and went his own way.Then the Colour of Blood told me we gods had to arrange a thing or two. But enough of my ramblings. I am old, and you came to read the same journals everyone else did.”)

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[beardedmrbean]

Helsingin Sanomat takes its readers on a deep dive into Finland's "number one platform for hate speech", an imageboard site called Ylilauta.

The platform has been in the headlines — again — in recent days after reports emerged that the suspect in the killing of a 15-year-old girl in Valkeakoski last weekend had used it to post fantasies about strangling women.

HS writes that the site is based on anonymity, and by its own estimates had about 2.5 million "active users" last month.

This anonymity allows "hate speech to run rampant" on the platform, University of Helsinki PhD researcher Emilia Lounela tells the paper. This view is also backed up by a Ministry of Justice report published in 2021, which found that Ylilauta was the source of about 96 percent of hate speech on Finnish websites.

"The typical idea there is that you shouldn't be too sensitive, you should be able to make fun of everything and laugh at everything," Lounela explains, noting that misogyny is common on the platform, as is racism, extreme right-wing and anti-minority hate speech.

She further adds that misogynistic and racist attitudes are evident even in the mainstream in Finland, but on forums like Ylilauta the rhetoric becomes ever more extreme — and more moderation and regulation of these sites is needed.

"It is important to add to the research data and create tools so that work can be done with children and young people to dismantle harmful attitudes," Lounela says.

Storm in a toilet bowl

Finland's Finance Minister and leader of the Finns Party Riikka Purra finds herself at the centre of another brewing racism storm on Thursday morning.

Purra made international headlines last year just weeks after leading her party into government when racist and violent comments she wrote on a blog some 15 years previously suddenly resurfaced.

Fast forward to this week, and tabloid Iltalehti writes that Purra has weighed in on a report by Yle that an Adult Education Centre in Espoo provided pictorial instructions to its students about how to sit correctly on a toilet seat.

While the signs could be considered quite patronising to foreign students, a spokesperson for the school told Yle that they are necessary because some of the students in basic education classes are illiterate or can only read in their own mother tongue, citing Arabic as an example.

Taking to social media platform X, Purra quoted a line from the article about how the use of the signs "encapsulates something essential about our time".

This was clearly something that struck a chord with Finland's finance minister and deputy PM, as she added in her post: "Yes, it really does."

Although it wasn't immediately clear what she meant, IL writes that many X users responded to her post by noting the underlying tone of racism.

Purra, noticing her comment had caused a little confusion and a lot of criticism, decided to clarify matters, writing in another X post that the toilet signage was not what bothered her the most.

"It's the idea that ​​attracting mainly uneducated mass migrants from developing countries, funded by the taxpayer, is somehow useful for us, even necessary," Purra wrote.

Bird brains

One of Ilta-Sanomat's most-read stories on Thursday morning tells of two stranded swans, sort of.

The tabloid explains that a number of people contacted animal welfare services in Turku to report that two swans had been sitting in a field for days. Given the warmer-than-usual weather, the callers were concerned the birds were suffering.

Two volunteers, Jim and Mina, went to investigate and initially observed from a distance that the swans were sitting in the field, completely motionless. On closer inspection however, they found that the swans were plastic and sent an "all clear" report — with an accompanying selfie — back to HQ.

Although call-outs by animal welfare authorities are rare, plastic swans can be seen around Finland during the spring and summer months.

"Swans are big and territorial and a bit aggressive, so sometimes these plastic swans can be enough for geese and ducks to continue their journey and not stop in a field," Sari Pesonen of Turku's animal welfare agency tells IS.

[chicwishblog]

Chicwish Review: Honest Opinion & Here’s What You Should Know

What is the first thing you do when you come across a new brand online? You are most likely to visit the brand’s website and check the reviews left by other users. A positive review of the brand depicts some level of confidence whereas a negative review creates doubts among prospective buyers. This is particularly true in the case of fashion brands where people remain unsure about the quality of products as returning or replacing fashion products is quite complex.

In today’s dynamic market scenario, brand perception has an important role to play. This is why brands go extra mile to deliver a smoother shopping experience to buyers in order to get a positive review. This is why most people get a link to share their review about the product and the overall shopping experience. If you are looking to buy fashionable clothing either for regular wear or formal wear, Chicwish is one name in the fashion industry that has been winning the hearts of women shoppers worldwide.

Since its launch, Chicwish has let fashion enthusiasts choose from a wide range of apparel in an economical way. At Chicwish, you may probably find anything you can imagine, including swimwear, loungewear, shirts, bottoms, dresses, and lingerie. With little regard for moral or environmental standards, Chicwish is committed to offering attractive, unique designs. The company strives to make luxury affordable for people who care about the environment and fashion.

The internet is full of various Chicwish reviews, which confirms the superiority of the store's offerings. These endorsements show that Chicwish is a reputable business in the online clothing market. Chicwish strives to maintain its leadership by offering everyone fashionable clothing that is cheaply priced.

Chicwish Reviews:

Let's look at some of the most-read Chicwish reviews on the web.

1.       “I just have to see how your clothing fits first! This was a gift for a very special friend for her birthday and she is going through treatments next week for cancer. This pink sweater/coat in PINK will be special in more ways than one. I hope to come back for more. Love your advertising and the pieces that I've looked at. LOVE. There's a lot to consider with all the sizing in different countries and want it to fit another person I am buying for. The reviews didn't have enough information in them to tell anything about sizing to be sure. I know you are targeting a younger age group but don't forget us older ladies like to look just as good!” – Stanetta C.

2.       “Since discovering Chicwish, my mother and I have made at least 5 orders between the 2 of us, and they have never failed to reply quickly and efficiently. I love their designs and their quality is solid, as long as you know what to expect based on the pictures.” – Aria C.

3.       “Finally a skirt that fits great! Not to mention gorgeous. It's beautiful for spring and carries right into the summer for brunch, weddings, etc., or just because. Dress it up or down.” – De B.

4.       “I discovered this website last year and I fell in love with its products, but while reading the reviews on the internet, I wasn't very sure how it would turn out. I eventually decided to order one dress and set myself up for no expectations. I ordered before the holidays and during the vacation time, I didn't check the order status at all. The order arrived at my door in about a month (I live in Finland) and I had to pay customs for it, so please take that into account when ordering. But I must say, I was very impressed with the dress, the quality, and the fit. It became very fast my favorite dress and I will definitely be ordering more from Chicwish :)” – Claudia J.

5.       “At first I was a little cautious, didn't make good experiences with Asian online shops. But the clothing is not only *really* cute (been looking for something like this for ages), the quality and fabrics are awesome too! Takes a few weeks to deliver, but I think it's worth it.” – Kerstin E.

The Conclusion

Whether you are looking for casual clothes or formal wear, Chicwish is one name you can always trust upon.  Chicwish is a leading online clothing store where you can explore all types of clothing at affordable rates.

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