#march 79

[glitteratti-moved]

had a truly horrible day and am about to get perhaps too trashed this close to my brothers deathiversary. so advance warning for deadbrotherposting as i am wont to do when drunk

[leifyposting]

working on getting my license this year so i can experience a road trip au for myself

🌆 jean & barbara

🌆 #jarch day 9: freedom/song

🌆 G-rated

🌆 1k words

🔗: https://archiveofourown.org/works/63552394

[dailydoseofdragon]

Day 79- Fireworm

[guessimdumb]

The Scavengers - Mysterex (1978)

Fantastic, seminal punk rock from Auckland, NZ - I'm hearing hints of the Buzzcocks and the Saints.

[butchyena]

put my phone down and just held my cat prince elliot for over an hour because he wanted me to

[radlymona]

logging into honkai is always such a jump scare

[rooksunday]

thinking about wolffe and cody stomping into the corrie barracks like where are our men after a round up at 79s, and the commander in charge just vaguely points over their shoulder

off they stomp march, muttering all the way.

they find their troopers in the rec room with coffee, water, and snacks, sitting on the floor and listening to a presentation on drunk and disorderly on coruscant: please let your corries save your shebs

fox slouches in and gestures with his mug toward the presentation: it’s widget’s first go with the talk. he’s nervous but i think he’s got it.

wolffe: i thought—

cody: —you arrested them?

fox: they’re not senators, diplomats, or buildings. not our business.

thorn: probably want to warn your troopers about the CSF, though, sirs. they really don’t like clones. biscuit?

[saddayfordemocracy]

How the Watermelon Became a Symbol of Palestinian Solidarity

The use of the watermelon as a Palestinian symbol is not new. It first emerged after the Six-day War in 1967, when Israel seized control of the West Bank and Gaza, and annexed East Jerusalem. At the time, the Israeli government made public displays of the Palestinian flag a criminal offense in Gaza and the West Bank. 

To circumvent the ban, Palestinians began using the watermelon because, when cut open, the fruit bears the national colors of the Palestinian flag—red, black, white, and green.  

The Israeli government didn't just crack down on the flag. Artist Sliman Mansour told The National in 2021 that Israeli officials in 1980 shut down an exhibition at 79 Gallery in Ramallah featuring his work and others, including Nabil Anani and Issam Badrl. “They told us that painting the Palestinian flag was forbidden, but also the colors were forbidden. So Issam said, ‘What if I were to make a flower of red, green, black and white?’, to which the officer replied angrily, ‘It will be confiscated. Even if you paint a watermelon, it will be confiscated,’” Mansour told the outlet.

Israel lifted the ban on the Palestinian flag in 1993, as part of the Oslo Accords, which entailed mutual recognition by Israel and the Palestinian Liberation Organization and were the first formal agreements to try to resolve the decades-long Israeli-Palestinian conflict. The flag was accepted as representing the Palestinian Authority, which would administer Gaza and the West Bank.

In the wake of the accords, the New York Times nodded to the role of watermelon as a stand-in symbol during the flag ban. “In the Gaza Strip, where young men were once arrested for carrying sliced watermelons—thus displaying the red, black and green Palestinian colors—soldiers stand by, blasé, as processions march by waving the once-banned flag,” wrote Times journalist John Kifner.

In 2007, just after the Second Intifada, artist Khaled Hourani created The Story of the Watermelon for a book entitled Subjective Atlas of Palestine. In 2013, he isolated one print and named it The Colours of the Palestinian Flag, which has since been seen by people across the globe.

The use of the watermelon as a symbol resurged in 2021, following an Israeli court ruling that Palestinian families based in the Sheikh Jarrah neighborhood in East Jerusalem would be evicted from their homes to make way for settlers.

The watermelon symbol today:

In January, Israel’s National Security Minister Itamar Ben-Gvir gave police the power to confiscate Palestinian flags. This was later followed by a June vote on a bill to ban people from displaying the flag at state-funded institutions, including universities. (The bill passed preliminary approval but the government later collapsed.)

In June, Zazim, an Arab-Israeli community organization, launched a campaign to protest against the ensuing arrests and confiscation of flags. Images of watermelons were plastered on to 16 taxis operating in Tel Aviv, with the accompanying text reading, “This is not a Palestinian flag.”

“Our message to the government is clear: we will always find a way to circumvent any absurd ban and we will not stop fighting for freedom of expression and democracy,” said Zazim director Raluca Ganea. 

Amal Saad, a Palestinian from Haifa who worked on the Zazim campaign, told Al-Jazeera they had a clear message: “If you want to stop us, we’ll find another way to express ourselves.”

Words courtesy of BY ARMANI SYED / TIME

[lavenderspence]

To Lean On You | Spencer Reid

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Content Warning: post prison!Spencer, mentions of addiction, prison talk (typical for the prison arc), gun use, mentions of death, suggestive themes, idiots in love, angst, so much angst.

Word Count: 8.6K

Summary: You and Spencer wasted years, truths hidden, feelings uncertain, and a fear of the unrequited. It took ten weeks, isolated, silent, and broken, for the realization to strike. There was no life, if you didn’t have each other. 

A/N: It’s finally here! Wow, writing this was a wild ride, honestly. Over a month of writing, blood, sweat, and tears poured over it (there were in fact some tears). This is also the first thing I’ve written in 3 years and I'm very happy to finally be out of my slump. It's probably the angstiest thing I've written ever, and at the same time, I feel like it's not the greatest, but deep down, I still love it, haha. Let me know if I've missed any warnings. And, enjoy and any feedback is appreciated. <3

Here are some of the songs I listened to while writing this if you want to get into the mood:

Hearts by Jessie Ware

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived by Taylor Swift

Lost Without You by Freya Ridings

In This Shirt by The Irresponssibles

masterlist

79 days, 3 hours, and 27 minutes - that’s how long it’s been since he got arrested in Mexico.

70 days, 6 hours, and 13 minutes since you saw him being pulled out of the courtroom after he was deemed a flight risk and denied bail. 70 days, 6 hours, and 13 minutes have passed since you last saw him.

65 days, 7 hours, and 11 minutes, since he was transferred to Millburn Correctional Facility, and this whole nightmare, had started. 

Per Penelope’s carefully crafted schedule, every team member has made numerous trips to visit Spencer - every member except you. You’d only made one trip out, and that had been 3 days after he’d been transferred.

March 4th, 2017

It’s been 8 days since you saw him led in cuffs out of that courtroom, where Penelope had broken down in Luke’s arms, everyone too shocked to make a sound. He’d looked back, his eyes meeting yours briefly, and it had been as if you’d almost seen your reflection in the mirror, every emotion had run between you both in a matter of seconds. 

Shock, you’d almost been sure they would grant bail, and you’d be able to take him home. Almost. 

Fear, for his future and his well-being. Fear of the uncertain. 

Desperation, the desire to run to him and take him into your arms, finally, and to not let go. 

Except you’d held his gaze for as long as you could before you’d looked down and turned your head to save him from seeing you break down in tears. You’d made a hasty escape after that, not sparing any of your teammates a glance, and walked out of the courthouse, stopping by a tree outside. The urge to curl up into a ball and hide, pretending none of this had happened, was strong, and then a hand wrapped around your shoulder. You had turned around, only to see Rossi and one of his sad little smiles, the ones you rarely saw.

“It’s going to be okay,” he’d said, squeezing your shoulder. ”The kid is strong.”

You’d sniffled, trying to hide the tears in your voice. “Yeah, well, I’m not sure I am," you’d whispered in despair. 

You were better than you had been 8 days ago, calmer. Although still heartbroken, you were looking forward to seeing him, seeing with your eyes that he was okay. Garcia had seen him, 2 days ago, before you’d been sent out on a case.  

“He looks good. I mean, as good as that big genius brain of his can look in prison. His eyes were sad though, really, really sad.” She’d paused as if to assure herself it would be alright, “I’m sure he’s looking forward to seeing you, sweetness.” She’d squeezed your hand, but her statement hadn’t rung true. 

Your hands were shaking, you weren’t sure what from. The anticipation you’d felt? The nerves? Or the words you had a hard time coming to terms with.

“I’m sorry, but your name isn’t on Spencer Reid’s approved visitor list,” the guard at the checkpoint had said after rechecking the list. 

“There has to be a mistake, I made an appointment,” you insisted, feeling yourself unravel. It wasn’t possible, you knew for a fact you were on that list, Emily had made sure of that.

“Look, lady. There are only 10 names on that list, and yours is not one of them. Now, you need to move, because there are people here waiting to see their loved ones.” you’d hiccuped and turned around, walking to the lockers to unlock your gun, badge, and phone. 

“I’m here to see a loved one.” You’d wanted to scream, but you knew it would have been futile. There wasn’t anything you could do at that moment. 

You walked to your car, dialing Emily’s number, “This is Prentiss.”  

For a second, only your breathing could be heard over the sound of the wind, and then a tiny sniffle. You wiped at your eyes and nose, and then spoke up, barely, “Why am I not on Spencer’s approved visitor list?” 

“What do you mean? Every member of this team is on the list. So is his lawyer and Diana, even Derek,” you could hear the surprise in her voice, yet you couldn’t keep calm any longer.

"They refused to let me see him! I made the appointment, Emily, and I came, hoping I’d finally see him hear his voice, and ask him-” Your voice broke mid-sentence, and after taking a deep breath, you continued, “Ask him if he was okay, and I was denied because out of the 10 names on that list, it seems mine’s not one of them.” You finished defeated, barely above a whisper.

All was silent for the moment, save for what you could hear was Penelope’s voice on the other end of the line, quietly asking what was going on, “Let me call Fiona and the warden, and I’ll see what happened. Meanwhile, I need you back here, because we just got a case.” Her voice wasn’t leaving anything up for discussion. Still, you couldn’t go, not until you saw him. 

“Emily-” she cut you off.

“It’s not a discussion. I’ll resolve this, but I need you here and your head in the game. Am I clear?” Her voice was stern, but maybe that’s exactly what you needed. Maybe.

“Yeah, clear. I’m on my way back.” You took a deep breath and started the car and the journey back to Quantico, but your mind stayed right there, on the bars that kept you away from the one thing you held dearest. 

As it turns out, there was nothing the warden or Fiona could do. Even Emily Prentiss, Unit Chief of the BAU, couldn't “resolve” the situation. Days, weeks, and months passed, and for 70 days you couldn’t see him, isolated out, not even knowing why.

“-to be in the courthouse in one.” You snapped out of your thoughts, only catching the end of the sentence, digging the heels of your hands into your eyes. You were tired, and it had little to do with the fact that you had been up all night, going over all the evidence with the team and tracing Lindsey Vaughan’s steps to a T in an attempt to exonerate Spencer and finally bring him home. 

You were exhausted, both physically and mentally. You’d been up for more than 24 hours now, but then you hadn’t been sleeping all that well to begin with. Every single night was spent wondering how Spencer was doing, and every time you closed your eyes, you saw him in that cell in Mexico. 

His eyes were red, high out of his mind, barely coherent, dirty, and injured - a far cry from the person you were used to seeing every single day - energetic, passionate, and brilliant. After 12 years, if there was one image you wished to erase from your memory, it was this one. Not all the blood you’ve seen spilled, every victim, be it men, women, or even children, all the horrors of the job, but this. Maybe it made you a bad person, but there was nothing worse than seeing the one person you held dearest at their lowest and not being able to do anything to stop it.

Every waking hour that you weren’t on the job was spent wondering how he was doing and if he was okay. If he was healthy, unharmed, and safe, or as safe as an FBI agent could be in prison. But most of all, the one thing that had kept you up at night, slowly destroying your sanity and making you question everything, had been the one question you couldn’t seem to get an answer to. 

“Why doesn’t he want to see me?”

You’d asked everyone and had waited with battered breath for an answer, a clarification on the matter, and it never came. As shocked as you had been at the notion that you wouldn’t be seeing Spencer for an indefinite amount of time, your team had been even more shocked. They knew the kind of relationship you and Spencer had, how close you’d become over the years, and how much you relied on each other. 

You’d asked every team member, you’d asked yourself, you’d even asked Spencer in a few of the letters you wrote to him, and then there had come a point where you just stopped. 

You were torturing yourself more than enough, day after day, and every single night, asking yourself a question you wouldn’t get an answer to. Not as long as he was locked up in that hellhole and you were out here, trying to keep together the pieces of something, that was on the verge of breaking. 

You felt a hand taking hold of yours, and for a second, you tensed up. Pulled out of your thoughts, you looked up and were met with chocolate brown eyes, full of worry - Emily’s eyes. 

You glanced around the room, only to realize it was empty, save for the two of you. You hadn’t felt when the others had left, that’s how deep in thought you had been. 

“Where did you go? I’ve been calling your name for a while now,” she spoke gently, squeezing your hand. If you were honest, that’s the first time she asked you anything about the situation. You’d spent weeks suffering in silence and trying to pretend that you weren’t slowly dying on the inside. 

You briefly thought about lying, it wouldn’t be the first lie you’d told since Spencer had been incarcerated, but you didn’t have it in you to hide anymore. 

And so, for the first time since Spencer’s hearing, you told the truth.

“Nothing makes sense anymore, Em,” it left you in a whisper, “I’m barely holding it together. I feel like I’m drowning sometimes, and just when I breach the surface, I’m pulled back in. My mind, it’s...I question everything, all the time. My mornings start with thoughts about him, and my nights end with tears over him, over this entire…this nightmare. I keep waiting for my alarm to go off, to wake up and realize that this has been a plot of my imagination, some cruel joke my mind has conjured, designed to show me... "Your eyes welled with tears, prepared to admit something you should have long ago. Emily gave your hand another squeeze, prompting you to continue, and so you did, admitting it for the first time aloud. 

“Designed to show me that I can’t live a life that doesn’t have Spencer in it.” You wiped at your eyes, willing your tears at bay. When you dared to look up, you were met with the eyes of the only other person besides Spencer who has been a constant rock in your life for the last 11 years. What you saw in her eyes then wasn’t surprise like you’d thought, but relief. It took you a moment to fully read her, but it was like a switch had gone off when you finally did. 

“But you’re not surprised to hear this, are you?” you smiled sadly, a light laugh leaving you. 

“I wouldn’t be a good friend if I didn’t have my suspicions, and I’d be an even worse profiler,” she smiled at you, “Plus, there are some feelings that you just can’t hide,” you blinked, and then you blinked again. You hadn’t come right out and said it, and yet she knew, she somehow knew. 

“I didn’t mean it like that.” you tried to backtrack, but you knew it was a losing battle. Emily knew you well enough to smell your bullshit from miles.

“That’s exactly how you meant it, and don’t even try to deny it. I see it every damn day. It’s how you leave the room whenever you hear someone talk about visiting Spencer. You don’t want to hear how he’s doing because you wouldn’t believe it, not unless you see him with your own eyes. But you can’t, so you’ve resigned yourself to the torture of not knowing instead of giving yourself the smallest amount of peace by asking. You’ve been suffering in silence for almost three months, too stubborn to say anything, thinking you were doing yourself a favor. And what for? You’re crying yourself to sleep every night and coming to work the next morning, pretending everything is fine when clearly it’s not. You think you’re fooling everyone, but the only person you’re tricking is yourself. And how’s that working out for you?” she had a point, and it’s not like you weren’t aware of that fact. You knew what you were doing wasn’t okay or healthy. You had the most stable support system imaginable to get you through the hardest parts. It was hard, though, especially when the person who was suffering the most was the person who’d taken your heart with him. 

“Way to call me out, boss.” you were just about ready to end the conversation, you couldn’t take any more of this. You’d promised each other long ago that you wouldn’t profile each other but you had a feeling that was exactly what Emily was doing right now. Maybe not on purpose, and with every good intention imaginable, but you didn’t want that. You didn’t want one of your best friends to try to understand you based on behavioral analysis right after you’d spilled your soul out to her. 

“Just calling it the way I see it, someone has to,” she smiled, but then she shook her head a little before continuing. “What I want to know is why you didn’t say something earlier. You know I would have been there to listen, and so would have the team.” Damn, Emily Prentiss.

You didn’t have to think hard about it, you’ve been ruminating over everything for days. You were trying not to, but whenever your mind wasn’t focused on a case or the many drinking nights spent in Penelope’s purple adobe, that was where your mind would take you.

“Out of fear, I think,” you started, unsure for a second, still nervous to admit it. It wasn’t exactly what she was asking, but it was a start, “I was afraid, and I still am. I’ve been baiting myself into thinking it was just some sort of fondness, a little stronger than that which you feel towards a friend, and far lesser than what it actually is. I thought that if I didn’t say anything, I could go on lying to myself, and nothing would have to change, we wouldn’t have to change. Because words hold meaning, and an admission like that holds weight. What would I have done if it was just me who felt like this? I would have ruined the one thing we’ve both cherished for over a decade.” It felt good to finally say all of this out loud instead of holding it inward. But then again, Emily always knew when you'd had enough. 

She’d told you time and time again the same thing Hotch had asked of her when she returned to duty after faking her death: “Let me know when you are having a bad day.”. Honestly, you’d held off long enough, and so had she. It was a whole miracle she hadn’t pressed you about your behavior earlier. 

“That’s not what I was asking,” you said, shaking your head with a smile to let her know that you weren’t done speaking. 

“Everyone was suffering as a result of what happened in Mexico, what I was feeling wasn’t any different, Emily.” You were flippant about it, you always have been. You preferred isolating yourself and hiding everything instead of seeking a shoulder to bear the weight of what you felt. 

“Our sadness came from the fact that our friend was framed. And yours? That’s different.” 

“It isn’t,” she scoffed, getting up. Now you really felt like you were about to get scolded like a child.

“Yes, it is. God, you and Spencer are the same. It’s like I’m looking at his doppelganger without the whole… IQ of 187. You share some of the worst qualities a person can have,” you laughed at that, “You are both changeophobes-” you cut her off

“Metathesiophobia, fear of change.” She only raised her hand at you, as if to say, “See, you even sound like him,” which made you laugh even more. 

“You close yourselves off after a sad or traumatic experience, silently hoping you’d be able to get through the worst of it on your own. Most of the time, it’s evident that’s not the case. You only ask for help when you’ve reached rock bottom or have no other choice, but you’ve had a choice from the get-go. Your stubbornness even stems from the same anxieties, it’s infuriating,” she seemed to calm down then, in defeat maybe, or she hadn’t been mad, to begin with, she sat down again. 

“My point is, it shouldn’t have taken you learning that he might be coming home today to tell me all of this. I’ve known for a long time that there was something far more than platonic friendship on your end. You shouldn’t have tortured yourself since his trial to try to put the puzzle pieces together. You aren’t late, you have all the time in the world to say what you feel and what you want, and rejection shouldn’t be a factor, believe me. You need to make peace with that fear because Spencer is coming home today. And whether you are ready or not, you both need to have a serious conversation.” You appreciated her determination about Spencer being released, but then again, you had more than circumstantial evidence to support the fact that he was innocent. But, as always, Emily was right. He was coming home today, and after months of not seeing each other, there were a lot of things you needed to say. 

“I know. Thank you, Emily, for everything,” you whispered, squeezing her tight. 

Spencer’s POV

The first breath of fresh air after being on the inside for months felt far more overwhelming than he thought it would be. Being in charge of your being and your responses and emotions felt almost unnatural like the feeling of it didn’t belong to him. The sound of the wind and the traffic, people’s voices, and even the simple act of getting comfortable in the leather seats of the jet overwhelmed any ability to concentrate and think straight. 

In itself, it was strange. The prison was loud, the prison commissary at breakfast, lunch, and dinner was a cacophony of prisoners talking, cells being opened, and guards barking orders. The yard was loud too, although, in the middle of nowhere, nature could still be heard - the sounds of trees and the lone birds, if he had to guess a mix of Mourning Dove and Field Sparrow. Their songs were soothing most of the time, a welcome distraction from the usual noises around him. 

Without the atmosphere he’d gotten used to and subjected to all of those sounds and people whose presence he found comforting before, he now felt almost out of place. He wanted to feel at peace, he wanted to feel free, and although he technically was, his mind was more trapped than he’d actually been in that 2 by 2 cell in cellblock C.

He kept replaying some of the hardest moments from his time in, every threat, every punch he’d gotten, and the phantom feel of the fists connecting. Luis’ blood on his hands, the smell of bleach incorporated with the drugs, the tip of the sharpened toothbrush embedding into his thigh. All he’d done to survive, harm, and more harm, only to make it out alive. 

He barely recognized himself. He’d deliberately ignored looking at himself in the small plastic mirror in his cell, for fear of seeing what he’d had to become. Gone was the Spencer who’d use his brain to get out of situations, whose obliviousness more often than not helped to balance his intellect with the socially acceptable. Gone was the bubbly personality of a kid excited to share a plethora of facts with his friends. 

In his place sat a man, tormented by the reality of the hatred felt towards him. The reality of being a pawn in a game whose complexity could have been his downfall. A man whose genius, as much of a blessing, could sometimes be a curse. A man who had felt too much and was made to experience far more loss than his quaint heart was able to take. In the end, he kept losing, be it his father, by no choice of his own. His mentor, at the hands of a killer’s insanity. His friends and loved ones, hoping for a better life or his freedom, made to rot in a place he didn’t deserve to be in. 

Some would doubt that he had anything at all left to lose. All in all, how much more could the scrawny twelve-year-old child prodigy, left to survive in a public high school, take? 

His mind had been plagued by that question for years. He’d thought about that more than he’d like to admit. After every loss, there’d been a split moment where he’d asked himself what was next. What would be the next thing life would take from him? And every time, he’d had to wonder if, next time, life wouldn’t reach for the one thing he couldn’t allow to be taken from him. The one thing that, were he to lose, he’d never recover. He had hoped, sometimes prayed, that after everything he’d seen, everything he’d lived through, this would be the one thing that’d be spared. 

Locked in that cage, he’d tried even harder to ensure that there wouldn’t be another loss in his life - not anymore. Be it good or bad, he’d done everything. For 70 days, he’d had to assure himself he was doing what he thought was right, and what he wasn’t saying, he’d be forgiven for. He’d had to dodge questions and see the disappointment in his friend’s eyes, and when that wasn’t enough of a burden to bring all of his anxieties to the surface, he’d resigned himself to reading the words of the person he was doing all of this for - you. 

He’d reread every letter to the point where the edges of the papers were worn out, even though he’d known the contents by heart on the first read. He tortured himself by looking at your handwriting, analyzing the slanting of the words and the pressure of the pen. The little stains on the paper, he didn’t have to be a genius to know, were your tears. It broke his heart, to know he was causing you this much pain. He didn’t need to be there to see it, he felt it through your words.

He often questioned if it was worth it, if he was protecting you, or himself, or maybe even what you were or weren’t.

Even now, the weight of your words sat heavily on his mind, and right by his heart, in the pocket of his jacket, he felt the weight of the 9 letters you wrote. 

As he looked over from the little window of the jet, he couldn’t help but wonder if, in his desire to shield you from everything, he hadn’t gone too far. Ultimately, was he going to be forgiven, or be forced to pick up the pieces of the reality broken by his own doing?

“Don’t do that.” JJ’s gentle voice startled him from the overwhelming nature of his thoughts. She’d spent the last 30 minutes since they boarded silently observing him, waiting for him to pick up a conversation. But he’d decided to stay num. 

In every twitch of his fingers, in his desire to get comfortable but being unable to, she could see that he was restless. If she had to guess, his mind was much the same. 

“Do what?”

She gave him a look, one, had he not known her long enough, he might have been offended by. Clearly, she was offended herself, watching him play the clueless card. 

“Spence, I don’t need to profile you to know that your mind’s running a thousand miles a minute, contemplating your decisions, and I don’t think you should. You did what you thought was right, and no one blames you for that, not for Mexico, and not for what you did after,” she spoke evenly, gathering even Penelope and Alvez’s attention from where they sat. He looked over, receiving a smile and a nod from both before focusing on JJ again. 

Rationally, he knew she was right about everything. He didn’t need to run himself ragged with everything he could have done differently, or search for the perfect way to explain, or overall, the perfect outcome of his own decisions. He knew there wasn’t one, there was no perfect way to say what he needed to, no perfect words to pick so he could fix this and erase the pain he knew he’d caused. 

Perfection wasn’t something you could strive to achieve, because there’s no such thing as perfection. The term was diverse, everyone had a different perspective on what that might look like. If for JJ, perfection was the family that waited for her at home every time she returned from a case, for Spencer, perfection was vastly different. 

For him, perfection was the rich aroma of coffee that could cause someone’s insulin to spike because of the amount of sugar in it. The softness of a book page between his fingers, or the familiarity of a book he’d read before but needed to revisit. 

Perfection was the sound of your laugh whenever he was the one to prompt the sound. The way your eyes lit up every time you listened to him babble on. Perfection was the time he got to spend with you every day, every hour, and every minute that he could remember with almost scary accuracy. 

He could sit and wonder what the perfect way to go about this was, but there simply wasn’t one, there was only the truth. And as painful, hopeful, or even a little dumb as it was, that was the best he could give.

And maybe that’s what his mind should focus on instead, the truth, in its simplest form, at its core the truth he’d hidden for months, and then the truth he’d hidden for years. 

He had wondered long enough if he’d made the right choice. He spent plenty of time focusing on the shame he’d felt, prompted by the disappointment he’d seen in his friends’ eyes whenever they brought up your name. How he’d sit, silent, or give an answer so short and angry, it’d add even more shame to the one he already felt. 

Beyond his time in prison, where he spent most of his time questioning his decisions, he spent years before that questioning himself as a person. His place on the team, his intelligence, even his failings. His inability to form relationships where he’d be seen as more than Dr. Reid, or the skinny kid, pretty boy, or a genius. A relationship that’d make him feel like simply Spencer, without the added adjectives, that sometimes made him feel like a circus clown. 

Only when he’d been locked up, had he started to realize that he’d finally built a relationship with someone with whom he could be himself. The most basic, boring, and peaceful version of himself, and slowly, all had started falling into place. 

How content he felt whenever he was around you, the desire to tell you every good or bad news he received. How when you asked about his mother, it warmed his heart, or how worried he felt when you acted stupid in the field. How out of control he’d felt when you’d gone missing last year. Or even, at the time, the unexplained jealousy he’d felt seeing you talk with another man.

Morgan had asked, once, twice, a lot, if maybe he didn’t have a crush, but he’d denied it, every time. And every time he’d question himself, he'd dismiss the idea just as quickly. 

Yet, upon being forced away from you, the pieces had started mending into one. 

Every realization he’d had was like a new broken piece being glued to the overall mosaic. And every new piece added built everything he felt about you. And it was a lot, and it was overwhelming, and so, so right, it sometimes felt wrong. Because he was inside a prison of his own doing, and you were out there, made to wait for him, for an explanation, for the truth. 

And he’d vowed to himself that the moment he was out, he’d put everything on the table, no matter how much he’d fucked up or how much he’d hurt you. He’d sit there, and he’d let it out, and if necessary, he’d even beg for your forgiveness. 

Because there wasn’t a moment in this life, he wanted to live through, without you there with him.

Your POV

You pulled the trigger, your eyes focused, and your hands steady. Three consecutive shots were fired, each one hitting its intended target. Three more followed, and then as many as it took to empty the magazine. 

You put down the gun and took a deep breath, steadying your heartbeat, trying to rid yourself of the deep-seated anxiety you felt. An odd sense of calm overtook you whenever you found yourself at the shooting range. Maybe it was the everpresent scent of gunpowder or the quiet only disturbed by the firing of a gun. Or even the possibility of escaping your rising thoughts, the desire to run or scream, sometimes both. 

There was a sense of solitude there that almost made it easier to breathe. The repetitive motion and the weight of the gun in your hands felt like second nature. 

Front sight, trigger press, follow through, just like Hotch had taught you all those years ago. As long as you held that gun, your mind was quiet, and you focused on something other than the worry you felt. 

It made sense you found yourself there shortly after Emily had shared the long-awaited good news - Spencer was finally free, and JJ, Penelope, and Luke were on route back with him. For a short moment, you’d felt the weight being lifted from your chest, and then it dropped again, now tripled. 

Suddenly, your earlier conversation with Emily had gotten as real as the target before you. Even with the sense of peace, you’d felt after, your thoughts on the matter clear, you still felt a sense of dread at the idea of seeing him. 

As if he wasn’t your best friend, the man who’d long ago won your affection and captured your heart, but rather a stranger who held your future in his hands. And he might as well be, because whatever the truth to the questions you wanted answered was, one thing was for sure.

It’d either make or break you both.

You picked up a new magazine, and loaded the gun, aiming at the target before releasing the safety. Before you fired again, you released a breath, and with it, all the feelings within you - fear, uncertainty, yearning, and the sense of madness, which, although mild, was persistent.

You fired once, twice, your aim impeccable, and then, out of nowhere, you missed. 

The hair at the back of your neck rose, your heart rate quickened, and the feeling of another’s presence in the room was unmistakable. It took you just a second to put the pieces together, the intrusion felt like anything but that. 

Instead, for a brief moment, the person brought with them a familiar feeling of calm. In the next instance, though, reality came crashing like a tidal wave, and you knew you’d run out of time. 

Your hands shook as you put down the gun. You could feel him watching you, probably standing next to the door, as if he couldn’t will himself to move closer. The anxiety was palpable in the air, although you couldn’t really say if it was yours or his, most likely, it was a mix of both.

You went to reach for your protection but hesitated. Once you took it off, there’d no longer be an excuse for you to ignore him, you’d finally have to meet the reality he’d so carefully crafted for you.

Even though you felt like you could barely breathe, the desire to finally lay your eyes on him won out. 

Without missing another beat, you took off your earplugs and then your eye protection. You could faintly hear the sound of shoes squicking against the floor. He could never stay still when he was nervous.  

You picked up on the sound of your own breathing too, the beating of your heart was almost erratic. You were waiting, what for, you weren’t sure. 

He was waiting too, for you to turn around, to lay his eyes on you. Like a sadist, waiting to see the pain he’d caused, or a masochist, wishing for his own in turn. 

70 days of slowly killing you both.

When you finally dared to turn around, it took you a moment to fully take him in. He looked like the Spencer you knew, yet there was something different about him too. Dressed in his usual suit and tie outfit, he didn’t look comfortable. His posture was rigid, almost defensive. It wasn’t a conscious decision, that much you were sure of.

His hair was longer, pushed back, curling at the ends, and he’d lost some weight. Not much, but enough to make an impression after all this time. He looked pensive, like the weight of the world sat on his shoulders, but maybe it was just the weight of the consequences he had to face.

Your eyes ran over every inch of him multiple times, intentionally avoiding his gaze for as long as possible. Seconds and minutes passed, and you weren’t really sure how much exactly. 

Spencer knew, though, of course, he did. If his fear of meeting you eye to eye was as great as yours was, you knew he was counting until the torture of the act itself was over. 

89 seconds he’d counted, although now with you there, they felt longer than the days without you did. 

When you eventually met his gaze, you felt a part of your heart chip on the inside. What people said about the eyes being a portal to one's soul couldn’t have been more right in that moment. Spencer, a man who excelled at hiding his emotions when he really wanted to, had let them out as clear as day for you to see. 

His eyes sparkled with so much sadness and guilt that it threatened to take you apart even before he had the chance to talk. Something softened within you at that moment, but in the next instance, it was like someone else took over. 

One moment you wanted to cry for him or with him, and the next you felt like your whole being needed to be let out. 

“Is that…is that all you can offer me right now? More of your silence? Don’t you think I’ve had enough of that?” The questions, a few of many to follow, had a bite to them. 

His face fell a little, taken aback by your tone. He fidgeted with his fingers, unsure what to say, or where to start. How could he answer your question? He pictured a scenario where his words flew freely, where he gave you an explanation worthy of forgiveness and a confession, so earnest that it ended with you in his arms. 

Try as he might, the words didn’t come to him, just a barely audible accusation. 

“That’s not fair.”

You scoffed, as if in outrage. A madness, one born out of so much heartbreak, took over, it was blinding. If someone had asked you to explain yourself, you’d say that wasn’t you. You’d never be so forward, almost cruel, to him, but at that moment, being mad sounded so much better than being vulnerable. Like a shield, you weren’t ready to let go of yet.

“How exactly is this not fair, Spencer? It’s the truth!” you yelled, and you felt free, finally letting it all out. “You want to know what isn’t fair, though? The way you isolated me OUT of your life! For three months, I’ve had to stand on the sidelines and beg for scraps, just to know you were okay. Every pitiful look I’d get from the people I consider family felt like another stab to the heart. That’s what’s not fair!” You were screaming so loud. It was a good thing the range was soundproof, otherwise, the whole of the BAU would have been deep in your business by now. 

If he looked surprised by the accusation, he didn’t really show it. His posture took a turn, though. The rigidity disappeared, and in turn, it opened, as if the need to comfort you overpowered the uncertainty or the mask he’d had to hold while imprisoned. 

You didn’t want his comfort, not right now. Maybe later, when all was said and done, you’d get to have a normal conversation without the frustrations of the past. At that moment, you just wanted everything out of your system. You wanted the questions, the answers, and the truth. 

His silence continued as he started closing the distance between you. You wanted to move, to create more distance, but there was nowhere to go. You were squeezed between the range, and him. Whatever else was left than to continue begging for clarity.

“It’s not fair being sent away the first time I came to see you. To learn you didn’t want to see me! Each time it was my turn to visit you, do you want to know where I was? I sat outside that fucking prison, wishing for a glimpse of the person who’s been my rock for 12 years! Holding back tears, thinking you didn’t…you didn’t care like I did. Is this what I really deserve after 12 years by your side?” You almost slipped, you almost told him, and maybe you should have, it might have prompted him to talk or to say something. But no, he stayed silent. Step after step, he limped, his cheek twitched, and his brows furrowed, but like a coward, he remained quiet. 

He was meters away from you, three more steps, and he’d completely close the distance, and meet you face to face. 

“Say something, Spencer, damn it!” Your throat burned from the strain, and he advanced even more. “Anything,” you finished in a whisper, and all of a sudden, all the fight left you, and your eyes watered and your vision went blurry. 

He was just a step away then, and when you looked into his eyes, you couldn’t help but see how they shined. 

He reached forward, one hand taking hold of your arm while the other went to hold your waist, but you shook your head. “No, Spencer, please,” you whispered. You didn’t want to find yourself in his arms, because that would be the last of your composure, gone. You’d surrender to the feel of him like you even had a choice not to. 

He didn’t stop, not until you were snug into his arms, one of his hands at the back of your neck, holding your head tenderly, but the arm around your waist held onto you as if he was scared you’d slip away from him. 

Once in his arms, you finally let go, breaking down into pieces, hoping he’d be able to hold them all from crumbling to the ground. 

“Hey, shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” He kept repeating, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your pulse point. All the while, you could only stand, your arms at your sides, as if paralyzed.

Being in his arms felt like being home somehow. It felt so right after having been deprived of the feeling for so long. It felt like there was nothing wrong, and nothing could go wrong at that moment. 

Even though you hadn't initially wanted his comfort, somewhere deep inside, you craved his tender touch. You craved the feel of his body near and the faint scent that was so uniquely him - a mix of coffee, fall, and old paper, books. You realized then that you craved the sound of his voice too, another part of him you’d been deprived of. 

The voice of the always rambling boy that never failed to bring a smile to your face, even when you couldn’t understand him sometimes. 

And the more he whispered, his voice broken and shaky, the harder you cried. You’d thought nothing could match the heartbreak of his actions or the anger of his silence, but the reality of being held against him brought the realization that your suffering mirrored his own. 

If you’d been dying on the inside for months, he’d been on the other side of the link holding you tethered to each other, dying just as much. 

And you couldn’t hold yourself back any longer after that. You buried your head in the crook of his neck, and your arms finally circled his waist underneath his suit jacket, fisting the back of his shirt as if it were your one lifeline. 

You felt him exhale when you finally returned his touch, most likely in relief, before he dropped a light kiss on your head. 

You cried for the relief of having him back and close. For unspoken truths and time wasted, years of figuring out feelings clear as day. For all the anger, for all of his silence, for all you felt for him. 

He cried for all the pain he’d caused you and for all the time he’d wasted being alone instead of being with you. He cried for himself, he cried for you, and he cried, overwhelmed by his feelings for you. 

You clung to one another, crying, and minutes were passing and neither of you cared. Not when you had each other. 

After a while, when both your tears dried out and your cries quieted, but you still felt the need to hold each other close, you dared to murmur a broken “Why?” hoping he’d hear, hoping he’d understand. 

It didn’t take him long to mumble a reply, no longer silent. 

“All the words in the world available, and I wish I could explain.” it came out just as quietly, both of you scared to break the little bubble you’d found yourselves in. 

You pulled back from him, wanting to look into his eyes, red-rimmed and still sparkling when you felt yourself begging again. 

“Then try, please, because I’d rather know, and not understand, than not know at all.” And it was the truth. He could speak in riddles if he wanted, but you needed to know why he’d made that choice. 

You looked at him expectantly before he pushed a piece of hair back, and his hand once again settled at the back of your head, gently cupping it. 

“I wanted you safe from a world you didn’t belong in,” he admitted on an exhale, like a lifelong secret he’d gotten tired of holding onto. 

You looked at him in wonder, and it was on the tip of your tongue to tell him he didn’t belong in that world either, but just as you opened your mouth to speak, he shook his head. 

“I was ashamed when I had you removed from the visitor’s list. I didn’t want you to see me like that, like a criminal,” he started, pulling you into his arms, not wanting to admit it to you eye to eye, out of fear of being right. Of course, he was wrong, but that didn’t stop him from wondering. 

“The first time JJ visited me, they leered at her like they were being fed fresh meat, taking her in, committing her to memory. A cage full of animals. I knew then that I didn’t want that for you, and any guilt I had at keeping you away disappeared that day. It hurt me, knowing I was failing you and whatever trust you had in me,” he whispered, wishing to keep the reality of his thoughts and his feelings in a little bubble as if you only existed in it.

“I’m not the same person I was before, I couldn’t be him, even if it meant losing a part of myself in the process. I couldn’t really be a decent human being without bearing the consequences. Everything I saw, everything I did, and everything that was done to me, I don’t think I’d ever fully be the person I was before. And that too, I’m thankful I spared you from seeing.” It would explain his rigidity, a defense mechanism he’d had to get used to. 

And while everything he’d said thus far was true the biggest truth, he’d had yet to say. He had yet to really explain why he’d done what he’d done in the first place. He was stalling, still afraid, but the longer he held you, the longer he felt your heart beating in time with his, the more sure he became. 

To hell with the consequences, to hell with whatever happened after, he was right here in the now, alive, breathing, his arms around you, finally at peace. 

He pulled back, took your face into his hands, and finally whispered.

“Most of all, though, I knew I loved you enough to risk us if it meant keeping you safe.” It left him in a rush, a confession waiting to be let out for months. A feeling he’d had for years, and a moment where he could finally be open about it. 

“What…?” you licked your lips, shocked that you might not have heard him correctly. ”What does us mean?” This part of the conversation felt like you were daydreaming about it, it just didn’t feel real. 

“It means whatever you want it to be. Whatever you want us to be.” All of a sudden, it was that simple. 

“So, you love me?” You had a hard time taking it all in, yet your heart fluttered in pure happiness. “And you…you want us?” 

"Yes.” Even before you were done speaking, he was already answering. He was desperate to finally admit he was absolutely smitten by you. 

Months of figuring out your feelings, years of hiding them, a conversation to finally prompt a confession out of you, and all this time it was reciprocated. You could have cried, happiness like no other coursing through you, pure bliss. 

You wanted back into his arms, you wanted to kiss him so badly that your blood was burning from the need to feel him like you'd never been able to before. And yet, you knew there was something else you needed to do before you could finally do it.

“Spence, you don’t push away the people you love, no matter the cost. You rely on their love to help aid you when you’re at your lowest.” You gave his sides a light squeeze before you looked back into his eyes, only to see them hopeful and uncertain at the same time.

He looked hopeful, for the possibility that you might actually love him back, but uncertain because it felt like you might be pushing him away this time. 

“I can’t go through this again. Having to watch you wither away, in prison, at home, or by your own thoughts, I won’t be able to handle being pushed away again,” whispers, cries, pleas, memories full of heartbreak intertwined with present confessions full of joy. 

His eyes watered then, his lips trembling. Any sign of hope was gone, and in its’ place stood the realization of a man who’d maybe gone a little too far. He’d pushed you away, and now, it was your time to be the one sticking and twisting the knife deep, breaking his heart in the process. 

If someone were to ask him at that moment what his biggest regret was, he’d say this. This was his biggest regret, his own choices. 

A tear escaped him, and you reached up, wiping it away gently before you spoke again.

“If..if this is going to go anywhere, you need to rely on me. You need to believe that I can handle anything and everything, just as long as you are by my side. All those years of being pushed away - your addiction, Maeve and Gideon’s deaths, your mom’s diagnosis, Cat Adams - you weren’t alone then, you aren’t alone now, and you won’t be alone in the future. You’ll always have me by your side, you’ll always have my support. Most of all, you’ll have my love, but when things get hard, I need you to lean on me, and trust that I can help you because together we can pull through everything, anything is possible as long as we are together.” You finished on an exhale, full-on crying now. You could barely see him, but from the little you could, you saw tears streaming down his face, and a smile that grew wide, happy.

Those words, he knew them word for word. For 13 days, he’d repeat them, no longer needing to see them written down, he had them engraved in his brain. Your letters he could recite, but your final one he’d remember as long as he lived. 

“I promise to lean on you and trust that you’d help me because together we can pull through everything, anything is possible as long as we are together,” he whispered back, his eyes searching yours for just a moment before he pulled you in, and finally, his lips met yours. 

He kissed you, tentative at first, testing the waters. He wanted to take his time, commit your lips to memory, gentle, and plump, exactly how he’d imagined they’d feel. The more he kissed you, the more he couldn’t stop. Passion, urgency, desire - his kisses turned desperate like he wanted to swallow you whole and never let you go. 

He bit your lip gently, asking for access, before his tongue intertwined with yours and he pulled you flush against him, closing any gap left between you. Chest, hips, there wasn’t an inch where you weren’t touching. 

It felt so familiar, even though you hadn’t kissed before. So right, like no one's kisses had felt before. As if your whole lives, kissing each other was the missing piece in a complicated puzzle, waiting to be put together. Coming together as one, it felt magnetic, a feeling of euphoria, pure ecstasy, no one else mattered, no other feeling mattered at that moment, other than your hands on each other and your lips locked together. 

Time was passing by, and you didn’t care. Years of missed opportunities, hidden feelings, and long-awaited realizations all led to this moment. Starved for each other, a kiss full of fervor and even the taste of tears was present. Unimaginable, but very real.

When you finally pulled apart, he wiped your tears, and you wiped his in turn, before he gathered you back in the comfort of his arms, laying a kiss on the side of your head.

And between the four walls around you, nestled in each other’s arms, the place where no one could touch you, in a shared breath you both whispered. 

“I love you.” 

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Likes, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated!

[aventurineswife]

Yooooooo self-aware HSR AU!!!

I would LOVE to know what some characters might think of Reader constantly battling the 50/50s (like how the HSR VAs get together and pull on the banners) with a side of the gacha seemingly favoring Bronya. 😅🤣

Off the top of my head, probably the worst one could be when Reader lost more than seven 50/50s in a row. (Based on past experience. 🫠) And not too long ago, they tried to pull for Sunday when his banner was running and when they saw the Harmony symbol—

—well…no points for guessing who showed up in his place. 😅

And then Reader ended up going all the way to max pity.

Reader: “IS THIS KARMA FOR RUNNING HIM OVER WITH THE ASTRAL EXPRESS!??!?!?!??!”

LMAOOO THIS IS GOLD. 😭😭

Okay, so here's how I think it would happen 🤭 (might not be accurate to the characters, plus idk much about pity and stuffs but I tried from the knowledge I got from yt shorts lol)

Bronya, being the gacha queen, might definitely notice how she keeps showing up in your pulls—especially when she’s not the one you’re aiming for. At first, she’d be gracious, “You’ve summoned me again. I can only assume it’s because you trust in my abilities to lead us to victory.”

But after, like, the fifth time, even she starts getting suspicious. “Is this… intentional? Or is this fate…? Regardless, I’ll fulfill my duties, as always.”

(Meanwhile, March is trying so hard not to laugh in the background: “Bronya AGAIN? You’re doomed!”)

Seven losses in a row, though? That’s when Himeko and Welt step in with some serious concern. “Seven? I’d say the odds are against you, but that’s… statistically impossible. Are you sure the stars aren’t just playing with you?”

“Perhaps this is a reflection of the balance you must maintain across dimensions… or you’re simply cursed.” (Thanks for the pep talk, Grandpa...)

Meanwhile, Silver Wolf is like, “You’re fighting against an algorithm. That’s your first mistake.” And then she offers to “fix” it for you (she can’t, but she enjoys messing with your hopes).

The Harmony symbol flashes, your heart soars, and then… Bronya. AGAIN. The absolute audacity.

Reader: “WHY WON’T YOU LET HIM COME HOME!?”

Bronya, oblivious to your suffering, “I will stand by your side, no matter the circumstances. Was this not what you intended?”

Everyone else is just dying. March is clutching her stomach “HAHAHA you were trying to pull for Sunday, and you got Bronya? AGAIN? Oh, I’m gonna cry—this is too good!” (she would definitely take pictures of you suffering.)

Dan Heng would try to be supportive, offering his trademark calm wisdom, “Perhaps it’s better to focus on what you do have. Bronya is an asset in any situation.” But even he can’t fully hide the slight twitch of amusement at your misfortune.

Now the real kicker: when you lose another 50/50 for Sunday and start yelling about karma for running him over with the Astral Express. EVERYONE stops.

Sunday, if he somehow hears this, “...You… WHAT?” (i kinda wanna hc that these characters aren't actually present during the fights/battle scenes.)

The Trailblazer looks at you like you (more like your screen) just committed war crimes.

Meanwhile, March is choking on her drink, “Wait, you RAN OVER HIM? Like, with the ACTUAL EXPRESS? And now he won’t come home? That’s… yeah, that’s fair, actually.”

Even Himeko raises a brow, “Well… actions do have consequences, as they say.”

You’d swear you hear Kafka’s voice somewhere in the distance, smirking, “Seems like fate is toying with you. What a fascinating little game you’ve got going.”

By the time you hit max pity, the entire Astral Express crew has started following your pulling rituals. March has a notepad, “Alright, you’ve hit 79 pity. This next pull is gonna be the one, I feel it—oh… wait. Nope. That’s another Bronya.”

Pom-Pom is pacing nervously in the background, muttering, “At this rate, the economy of our inventory is going to collapse.”

When you FINALLY pull Sunday, the whole group cheers like it’s a world event. Dan Heng, however, just calmly says, “Perhaps you’ve learned not to anger the stars. Or… the train.”

At the end of it all, Bronya might start feeling awkward about always showing up. If you mention your struggles, she’d quietly apologize, “If I’ve interfered with your plans… I am sorry. I only wanted to be of help to you. Perhaps the stars are telling us something we don’t yet understand.” (Translation: she’s just as confused as you are.)

This AU would honestly be too much fun. Every pull would feel like an event for the Astral Express, and I can already imagine March becoming your emotional support bestie through it all. 😭🙏

[ghelullu]

Ghost Tour and Album release timelines Infopost

I saw a lot of curiosity and also really bad takes about the upcoming album release in relation to the tour starting soon: „he’s decepting us by selling tickets and we don’t even have an album yet“, „it’s worrying that the album hasn’t even been released!“ etc, and I couldn’t take it anymore. So have a very short overview on how Ghost handled these things in the past and some speculations, brought to you by my autistic historian ass

Opus Popus as the first album doesn’t count here Update: see below, so I’ll ignore it. Just like the EPs (even Popestar, yes)

Infestissumam

Papa II was introduced by Papa I on 15.12.2012 in Linköping

there we also got the first songs (Secular Haze, Marionette cover) played live,

SH single was released a few days (20.12.2012) later on their Website

Papa II Tour start: 23.02.2012 (if you don’t count the bit in december and that P3 Guld Awards thing)

Album Release Date: 10.04.2013

time between tour and album: 1,5 months (46 days)

Meliora

Papa III premiered in Linköping on 03.06.2015 (with the wrong facemask), which also started the tour

first single (Cirice) released on 30.05.2015

Album Release Date: 21.08.2015

time between tour and album: 2,5 months (79 days)

Prequelle (my beloved)

we meet the Cardinal on 06.04.2018 in a Chapter (and some small concerts) before tour kicks off properly:

Tour start: 05.05.2018

first single (Rats) was released on 13.04.2018 (followed by Dance Macabre on 18.05.2018)

notably there's a bit of a break after the pre-release tour (ROTR), the release of the album and then the „proper“ tour (Pale Tour)

Album Release Date: 01.06.2018

time between tour and album: just under 1 month (27 days)

Impera

not counting the Ascension on 03.03.2020 and Sympathy for the Devil (my beloved) on 22.01.2021);

we get 3! singles before the album releases (Hunter’s Moon (super early bc of the movie), CMLS, Twenties)

Preimperatour started on 25.01.2022 (again with a break between the pre-release tour, release and post-release tour)

Album Release Day: 11.03.2022

time between tour and album: 1,5 months (45 days)

Conclusion:

As you see, Ghost always go on tour first and THEN release the album with about 1,5 months inbetween. Many songs are first played live and then we get to hear the studio versions.

Recently we even got dedicated „pre-tours“ (Rats on the Road, Pre-Imperatour) to hype us up. So there is no need to be worried, or even accuse him of being a scammer or whatever. It’s literally the normal modus operandi!

My guess for this Album/Tour (this might age terribly with the most recent website update): I’d assume we get a single later this month/ in march at the latest, and, if I had to guess, the album comes out after the Euro leg of the Redacted tour in late May (1 month passed plus theres a break again, like there was for ROTR/Pale Tour and Pre-/Imperatour)

Update

Since it's been pointed out that not including Opus isn't fair, I shall add that era. I didn't include it, because first albums always have a bit of their own rules and there's a whole lot of issues coming with releasing your first baby - plus I was trying to make a point based on recency (4 of the last 5 albums) etc. plus the lack of money & recognition didn't allow for a real Tour for quite a while. ANYWAY, here's it:

Opus Eponymous:

12.03.2010 they uploaded the Demo tape to MySpace and got a LOT of attention immediately (because it's a frickin' banger)

the album itself was released on 18.10.2010 officially

they played their first gig at Hammer of Doom in Würzburg of all places on 23.10.2010 - yes, after the album release

it wasn't really a tour in that sense; they went on to play some gigs wherever they could, then supported other bands (Paradise Lost in early 2011), the first thing you could call a real tour was Defenders of the Faith III with Trivium, In Flames (my beloveds, check out In Flames if you haven't!) and Rise to Remain in late 2011 - not a real Headliner Solo tour, though, either

Sources: Setlist.fm, wikipedia, my memory, really

[graylinesspam]

The 501st were silent.

An unearving, hollow kind of silent.

It had been one month since Commander Tano's trial. And they'd finally returned to Coruscant.

They hadnt stayed on the ship as some vod had predicted. Neither were they filling the corners of 79s drinking their feelings away.

They'd all calmly filed into the baracks as the gunships landed. But once those doors had closed behind them. It was only silence.

They'd slept hard. Hard enough to look run over when theyd emerged the next morning. They filtered through the cori-mess hall. Ate their breakfast and donned their armor.

Then they left out into the streets. Organized units slread out across the planet marching with purpose.

The population of Coruscant was enough to swallow the entire legion. The mass of blue armror trickling through the veins of the planet like deoxagenated blood cells.

Thats sort of what they looked like. Like the air had been let out of them.

They swept across the levels. Filling train cars and airlifts. Walking down streets and back alleys. Sweeping greasy diners and cluttered shops.

But they didn't find what they were looking for.

If they'd asked, come to Fox or any of the men that patrolled this planet, theyd've told them that Ahsoka was gone. Left the same day as her trial.

She'd fled the planet. And hadn't been seen since.

Fox let them search. For three days he let them tread across the planet. Let their wandering feet lead them through their greif. Let them go through the motions.

Before he had to pull Rex aside.

He had to break it to him. Tell him that his vod'ika wasn't coming back.

Rex stood stock still, his bucket under one arm. His face was... wrong. It didn't look like Rex. He could have been any brother under that expression of greif. Whatever made Rex's face his own had drained out with the air, the greif.

He didnt acknowledge Fox's words. Didnt argue. Didnt protest. He just stood there. Looking for all the galaxy like there was nothing left in him.

Cody's hand landed on one scraped blue paldron. "We'll help you look Kih'vod."

It took a minute before he managed to turn enough lights on upstairs to turn and look at Cody. Even then all he offered was a nod. Before he turned back to his troops.

Troops in gold armor joined the search. Then gray. And reluctantly red too. All on their off hours. Their own time.

The citizens were giving them a wide berth. Staying in doors and closing their shops as the troopers decended on the planet.

Untik the streets were half empty except for men in white armor.

They never found anything. Not even a trace of her. But the searching was important. The collective of them. Walking miles for her. For each other. For their brothers.

Seraching for something much bigger than just the little commander.

Maybe peace or reassurance or even just releif. Or maybe seraching because its all they had left to do. All they could do when the war rose up in their throats this way.

[sleepyrevolution]

falsettos dashboard simulator

🍽️ cordelia-culinary

Here's my new Rugelach recipe! This is my first time trying this, but I think it turned out well! My girlfriend said that she loves it :D

I just added Rugelach to our seasonal catering menu, so make sure to call and put your orders in before March 31 if you want some for Passover!

Keep Reading

#new recipe #small business owner #self promotion #cookblr #recipe #rugelach

43 Notes

🩰 dearcaroline Follow

why are all these therapists in nyc horrible??

4 Notes

🩺 charlottesweb

i never want to eat rugelach ever again. that was nasty...

#i hope delia didn't hear me vomiting #why did it taste so sour?

8 Notes

🫦 cufflinksandroses Follow

i love this boyfailure weatherman.

i want him in my pants.

#hornyposting on main #nsft #gay

27 Notes

🩺 charlottesweb

imagine cuddling up with your girlfriend after work, the soup boiling on the stove and cookies in the oven. the warm fire crackles, and you know that you are loved

#sapphic #yearning #queer #lesbian #wlw #i love my gf

79 Notes

♟️ chesslover4514

My parents are being so annoying 😒 like i'm sorry that i'm...playing chess??? just let me chill without trying to send me to therapy.

#vent #jason rambles #dm me if you want my chess.com account

2 Notes

[blueiscoool]

Breathtaking New Frescoes Found at Pompeii

Stunning Roman frescoes have been uncovered by archeologists in Pompeii, the ancient city destroyed by an eruption of the volcano Mount Vesuvius in the year 79 AD. Experts say the newly discovered frescoes are among the finest ever to emerge at the renowned archeological site.

The works of art line the high walls of what was once a large banquet hall. The walls themselves were painted mostly black, and the figures on the frescoes appear to emerge from the shadows. Site director Dr. Gabriel Zuchtriegel told CBS News partner network BBC News that the dark color was likely used to hide stains from the lamps that lit the hall after the sun went down.

"In the shimmering light, the paintings would have almost come to life," Zuchtriegel said.

Two pieces dominate the hall; one depicts the Greek god Apollo trying to seduce the priestess Cassandra. The second piece shows Prince Paris meeting Helen of Troy.

About a third of the "lost city" of Pompeii remains obscured by volcanic debris from the eruption almost two millennia ago. As scientists make new finds, they quickly move them to a storeroom to protect them from the elements.

The newly discovered frescoes, however, cannot be moved, so they have been protected with temporary roofing. Plaster glue is also being injected into the walls behind the artwork to stop them from falling down.

"We have a passion and a deep love for what we're doing, because what we're uncovering and protecting is for the joy also of the generations that come after us," chief restorer Dr. Roberta Prisco told the BBC, adding that the work was very stressful.

The dig site is much bigger than just the banquet hall.

Another fresco recovered from what was once one of Pompeii's grand properties had been on a ceiling, but it was smashed by the eruption that destroyed the city. Archeologists were able to lay out the pieces like a puzzle and recreate landscapes, theatrical masks, and Egyptian characters.

"This is my favorite discovery in this excavation because it is complex and rare," Dr. Alessandro Russo, co-lead archeologist on the dig, told the BBC. "It is high-quality, for a high-status individual."

In a bakery next to the grand property, the skeletons of two adults and a child were discovered.

Archeologists believe they may have been slaves who were trapped and couldn't flee the eruption, and were killed by falling stones.

"When we excavate, we wonder what we're looking at," co-lead archeologist Dr. Gennaro Iovino told the BBC. "Much like a theater stage, you have the scenery, the backdrop, and the culprit, which is Mount Vesuvius. The archeologist has to be good at filling in the gaps — telling the story of the missing cast, the families and children, the people who are not there anymore."

The team's discovery was just one of a number of recent revelations from the site, after they found other mythological-themed frescoes in early March and then, just weeks later, a construction site that was being worked on right up until the eruption.

The archeologists said near the end of March that they'd found a home construction project that was frozen in time by the eruption, with materials such as bricks and tools still piled up in the reception area of the home.

By Haley Ott.

[mariacallous]

OŚWIĘCIM, Poland — At Auschwitz for the annual March of the Living, Maggie Megidish and her daughter, released hostage Ori, stood among a delegation of survivors of both the Holocaust and Oct. 7. The visit stirred memories of their own ordeal.

When a Holocaust survivor spoke of the hunger she endured in the camp, Maggie said was transported back to the weeks she barely ate, tormented by thoughts of her daughter in captivity.

“With every bite, or every sip of water, I wondered if she, too, was getting any food,” she recalled.

Eighty Holocaust survivors were set to take part in this year’s March of the Living, some for the first time, marking 80 years since the liberation of the concentration camps. But on Wednesday evening, just hours before she was meant to depart for Auschwitz, 94-year-old survivor, Eve Kugler, died in her London home, bringing the number down to 79.

That same evening, before news of her death became public, a video featuring Kugler was broadcast at the March’s opening ceremony.

March of the Living president Phyllis Greenberg Heideman reflected on the weight of this year’s delegation, saying, “It will probably be their last time in this godforsaken place, Auschwitz-Birkenau.”

[thecrowperson]

All Saiki K Character's Manga Profile Data Sheets

(Source)

1. (From: Vol 1 Ch 8.5)

Saiki Kusuo

Height: 167 cm (5 ft 5.75 in) (Can vary) -> 167.6 cm (5 ft 5.98 in) as of Vol 23 Ch 239

Weight: 52 kg (114.64 lbs) (Can vary)

Birthday: August 16

Blood Type: Unknown

Favorite Food: Sweets

Notes: A psi user.

His name, Saiki Kusuo, is based on the word 'psychic'.

(Courtesy of the translator's notes in Vol 3 Ch 20)

2-3. (From: Vol 1 Ch 8.5)

Saiki Kuniharu

Height: 175 cm (5 ft 8.9 in).

Weight: 64 kg (141.1 lbs).

Birthday: May 13

Blood Type: B

Special Skill: Sucking up to his boss

Notes: Crappy salaryman.

Saiki Kurumi

Weight: Secret

Birthday: May 14

Blood Type: O

Dream: World Peace

Notes: She's scary when she snaps.

4. (From: Vol 1 Ch 8.5)

Nendou Riki

Height: About 191 cm (6 ft 3.2 in) -> 192 cm (6 ft 3.59 in) as of Vol 15 Ch 161.5 -> 191.3 cm (6 ft 3.31 in) as of Vol 23 Ch 239

Weight: Used to be 79 kg (174.17 lbs) -> Confirmed to be 79 kg (174.17 lbs) as of Vol 15 Ch 161.5

Birthday: May 9? -> Confirmed to be May 9th as of Vol 15 Ch 161.5

Blood Type: Either O or B -> Confirmed to be O as of Vol 15 Ch 161.5

Childhood Dream: To be a carpenter

Notes: A mysterious idiot

5. (From: Vol 1 Ch 8.5)

Kaidou Shun (The Jet-Black Wings)

Height: 161 cm (5 ft 3.39 in) 159 cm (5 ft 2.6 in) -> 158.9 cm (5 ft 2.56 in) as of Vol 23 Ch 239 -> 158.8 cm (5 ft 2.52 in) as of Vol 23 Ch 239

Weight: 45 kg (99.21 lbs)

Birthday: Unknown (October 3)

Blood Type: Secret (AB)

Favorite Color: Jet-black

Notes A solitary chuunibyou sufferer.

His name, Kaidou Shun, is based on the word 'Shunkan idou' which means teleport.

(Courtesy of the translator's notes in Vol 3 Ch 20)

6. (From: Vol 1 Ch 8.5)

Yumehara Chiyo

Height: 156 cm (5 ft 1.42 in)

Weight: --kg

Birthday: June 11

Blood Type: B

Embarrassing Past: She maintained a website during her 3rd year of junior high which contained a novel she'd written with herself as the protagonist (It has since been closed)

Notes: A romantic maiden

7. (From: Vol 1 Ch 8.5)

Hairo Kineshi

Height: 171 cm (5 ft 7.32 in)

Weight: 58 kg (127.87 lbs)

Birthday: June 18

Blood Type: AB

Favorite Sport: Tennis

Notes: A hot-blooded energetic boy.

His name, Hairo Kineshi, is based on the word 'pyrokinesis'.

(Courtesy of the translator's notes in Vol 3 Ch 20)

8. (From: Vol 2 Ch 15)

Teruhashi Kokomi

Height: 164 cm (5 ft 4.57 in)

Weight: ? kg

Birthday: August 6th

Blood Type: A

No. of people that asked her out: 0

Note: Extremely-definitely-most-loved girl

Her name, Teruhashi Kokomi, is based on the word 'telepathy'.

(Courtesy of the translator's notes in Vol 3 Ch 20)

9-10. (From: Vol 2 Ch 15)

Michael (Ikemi Kazuya)

Height: 165 cm (5 ft 4.96 in)

Weight: 53 kg (116.85 lbs)

Birthday: September 26th

Blood Type: A

Unexpected Background: Ex-yankee

Note: Contrary to his looks he is still in his 30s

Chouno Uryoku (Nakanishi Kouta)

Height: 176 cm (5 ft 9.29 in)

Weight: 64 kg (141.1 lbs)

Birthday: June 27th

Blood Type: O

Previous Job: A certain major famous publisher

Note: Homeless Magician

11. (From: Vol 3 Ch 23)

Toritsuka Reita

Height: 177 cm (5 ft 9.69 in)

Weight: 61 kg (134.48 lbs)

Birthday: September 10th

Blood Type: B

First Love: Miko-Chan (A ghost)

Notes: Spiritual medium from a temple family

T/N: His name is a pun on toritsukareta - the japanese word for being possessed (like by a ghost)

12: (From: Vol 5 Ch 43)

Teruhashi Makoto (Mugami Toru)

Height: 178 cm (5 ft 10.08 in)

Weight: 64 kg (141.1 lbs)

Birthday: March 4th

Blood Type: A

Dreams For The Future: Marry his sister.

Notes: Perverted older brother

T/N: Psi pun names! Teruhashi is a pun on telephathy! His stage name (Mugami Toru - 六神 通), uses the same kanji as the japanese word for the six spiritual penetrations of Buddhism (六神 通 Roku-Jinzu).

(Kanji copied from the wiki)

13. (From: Vol 5 Ch 47)

Mera Chisato

Height: 160 cm (5 ft 2.99 in)

Weight: 48 kg (105.82 lbs)

Birthday: April 15th

Blood Type: A

Main Diet: Beansprouts, bread crusts

Notes: An unlucky, poor girl.

T/N: Mera's name (目良 千里) basically uses the same kanji as the japanese word for clairvoyance (千里眼)

(Kanji copied from the wiki and google translate)

14. (From Vol 6 Ch 53)

Iridatsu Yuuta

Height: 106 cm (3 ft 5.73 in)

Weight: 18 kg (39.68 lbs)

Birthday: June 3rd

Blood Type: O

Latest Concern: Where do babies come from?

Notes: An innocent troublemaker.

T/N: His name is a pun on the Japanese word for astral projection (Yuutai Ridatsu)

15. (From Vol 7 Ch 65)

Kuboyasu Aren

Height: 173 cm (5 ft 8.11 in)

Weight: 65 kg (143.3 lbs)

Birthday: September 2nd

Past Nicknames:

Carnage Middle's Murder Weapon

Kuboyasu the Demon Killer

Mullet Wearing Aren

Notes: A delinquent who looks like what you'd get if you mixed Saiki and Kaidou.

T/N: Aren's name is an anagram of clairvoyance (The Japanese spelling of the English word) "ku bo ya su a re n" -> "ku re a bo ya n su"

16-17. (From: Vol 9 Ch 92)

Saiki Kumi

Height: 154 cm (5 ft 0.63 in)

Weight: It's ♡ a ♡ secret

Birthday: March 24th

Blood Type: O

Subscribed To: Non-No Magazine

Notes: Fashionable Grandma.

Saiki Kumagoro

Height: 168 cm (5 ft 6.14 in)

Weight: 54 kg (119.05 lbs)

Birthday: March 25th

Blood Type: A

Dreams For The Future: 3 generations living in one home

Notes: Tsundere Grandpa

T/N: Their names use the same pun as the rest of the Saiki family. Saiki Ku = psychic.

(Heart copy paste)

18. (From: Vol 11 Ch 113)

Saiki Kuusuke

Height: 179 cm (5 ft 10.47 in)

Weight 63 kg (138.89 lbs)

Birthday: June 16th

Blood Type: B

Average Amount Of Sleep: 17 minutes

Notes: Ma(socist)d s(adist)cientist older brother

T/N: Same name pun as the rest of the Saiki family - Saiki Ku = psychic

19. (From: Vol 11 Ch 114)

Saiko Metori

Height: 163 cm (5 ft 4.17 in) (When wearing his custom-made boots: 173 cm (5 ft 8.11 in))

Weight: 50 kg (110.23 lbs)

Birthday: September 8th

Blood Type: O

His Birthday Present Last Year: A private island

Notes: The kind of rich you always see in manga

T/N: His name is a pun on psychometry

20. (From: Vol 14 Ch 149)

Rifuta Imu

Height: 149 cm (4 ft 10.66 in)

Weight: You can't ask a lady something like that~! ♡

Birthday: April 13th

Blood Type: A

Favorite Saying: Cute is justice

Notes: A girl who looks like she's putting up a fight but actually has no chance of winning.

T/N: Her name is a pun on time leap (ie time travel) ri fu ta i mu -> taimu riifu -> taimu riipu* -> time leap (*in Japanese the difference between "fu" and "pu" is ふ vs ぷ)

(fu copy paste, pu copy paste, and heart copy paste)

21. (From: Vol 17 Ch 173)

Aiura Mikoto

Height: 166 cm (5 ft 5.35 in)

Weight: Yeah there's no way I'm telling you!!

Birthday: September 7th

Blood Type: B

Motto: A heart that foresees, a body that's not for sale

Notes: A totally ridonkulous fortune tell girl.

T/N: The kanji that make up her name (相卜 命) is a pun on different kinds of fortune telling. 相 = fortune telling based on physical things (like palm reading, facial feature fortune telling, feng shui, etc),卜 = fortune telling/predictions about the near future (this is stuff like tarot cards, drawing fortunes at a shrine, etc) and 命 = your fate based on the time/place of your birth (think like horoscopes).

(Kanji copied from the wiki)

22. (From: Vol 17 Ch 180)

Satou Hiroshi

Height: 169.9 cm (5 ft 6.89 in)

Weight: 61.0 kg (134.48 lbs)

Birthday: January 25th

Blood Type: A

Hobbies: Watching movies and reading.

Notes: Nothing special.

23. (From: Vol 24 Ch 257)

Akechi Touma (Previously: Asumi Touma)

Height: You want to know my height? To be perfectly honest, I'm not very tall, but I believe the last time I measured I was 15-... Oh, but this was two months ago so it may have changed since then... and although I say changed, I certainly don't mean to imply that my height may have decreased. Generally speaking, people tend not grow shorter. Also I do believe I'm still in my growth period, so I can say with confidence that I've almost certainly grown during these past two months. By the way, do you know about growing pains? Lately my joints have quite sore. If I compare my recent pains to the pain I felt prior to these last two months, then by my estimate I should currently be about 15-... Oh, did you also know that when measuring your height, it can vary by up to 2 centimeters between morning and night? When you sleep, the pressure placed upon your vertebrae is less, so you're at your tallest right when you wake up. Then you gradually shrink throughout the day. I believe when I measured myself two months ago it was about 11:40, so if I had measured myself right after waking up then I believe I would be one, or possibly even two centimeters taller. Knowing this, do you still want to know my height? The number is completely arbitrary, so there really would be no point in knowing, yes? I can't say I'm all that fond of pointless endeavors. Besides...

(Ok sounds like someone doesn't wanna reveal how short he is... Anyway I looked up some stuff about growth in teenage boys and I didn't go past the first page of google cuz I'm lazy but teenagers typically grow 1.25 cm (0.49 in) to 5 cm (1.97 in) in a month during a growth spurt. This gives a range of about 2.5 cm (0.98 in) to 10 cm (3.94 in) that he's grown throughout the 2 months he mentioned. Since he remarks on being "quite sore" it's probably around the higher range but we'll be conservative for a more accurate range and say he's only grown 2.5 cm (0.98 in). Now Akechi seems the type of guy to document his height down to multiple decimal points but I'm only willing to round to the hundredths place giving us a high point of 159.99 cm (5 ft 2.99 in) and a low of 150 cm (4 ft 11.06 in). The growth is at least 2.5 cm (0.98 in) so he's currently between 152.5 cm (5 ft 0.04 in) and 159.99 cm (5 ft 2.99 in) and used to be between 150 cm (4 ft 11.06 in) and 157.49 cm (5 ft 2 in).)

T/N: The first kanji in Touma (透真) and the first kanji in Akechi/Asumi (明智/明日) make the kanji for invisibility (透明)

(All kanji copied from the wiki except the 日 in the Asumi kanji which isn't there for some reason and took me multiple google searches describing what it looked like to find and you can imagine how stupid I felt when simply putting in "asumi kanji" got me the correct kanji but you can also literally look up "day kanji" and get the symbol by itself, anyway this profile data sheet was definitely the most pain in the ass to transcribe and it wasn't even majorly due to the essay I had to copy about his height that we still don't even know!)

24. (From: Vol 24 Ch 260)

Suzumiya Hii

Height: 166 cm (5 ft 5.35 in)

Weight: 48.6 kg (107.15 lbs)

Birthday: August 28th

Blood Type: O

Number of Times Hit By Lightning: 6

Notes: A super unlucky girl.

T/N: Her name is a pun on healing. The kanji in Suzumiya (鈴宮) can also be pronounced as ringu: ringu hii -> hiiringu -> healing

(Kanji copied from the wiki)

Rankings:

By Height:

Nendou: 191 cm (6 ft 3.2 in) -> 192 cm (6 ft 3.59 in) as of Vol 15 Ch 161.5 -> 191.3 cm (6 ft 3.31 in) as of Vol 23 Ch 239

Kuusuke: 179 cm (5 ft 10.47 in)

Makoto: 178 cm (5 ft 10.08 in)

Toritsuka: 177 cm (5 ft 9.69 in)

Chouno: 176 cm (5 ft 9.29 in)

Kuniharu: 175 cm (5 ft 8.9 in)

Kuboyasu: 173 cm (5 ft 8.11 in)

Saiko when wearing his custom made boots: 173 cm (5 ft 8.11 in)

Hairo: 171 cm (5 ft 7.32 in)

Satou: 169.9 cm (5 ft 6.89 in)

Kumagoro: 168 cm (5 ft 6.14 in)

Saiki: 167 cm (5 ft 5.75 in) -> 167.6 cm (5 ft 5.98 in) as of Vol 23 Ch 239

Aiura: 166 cm (5 ft 5.35 in)

Suzumiya: 166 cm (5 ft 5.35 in)

Michael: 165 cm (5 ft 4.96 in)

Teruhashi: 164 cm (5 ft 4.57 in)

Saiko: 163 cm (5 ft 4.17 in)

Mera: 160 cm (5 ft 2.99 in)

~Akechi: 159.999 cm (5 ft 2.99 in)*

Kaidou: 159 cm (5 ft 2.6 in) -> 158.9 cm (5 ft 2.56 in) as of Vol 23 Ch 239 -> 158.8 cm (5 ft 2.52 in) as of Vol 23 Ch 239

Yumehara: 156 cm (5 ft 1.42 in)

Kumi: 154 cm (5 ft 0.63 in)

~Akechi: 152.5 cm (5 ft 0.04 in)*

Rifuta: 149 cm (4 ft 10.66 in)

Yuuta: 106 cm (3 ft 5.73 in)

Did Not Provide Height:

Kurumi: Not listed

Akechi: Big explanation that I'm not copying again*

*Akechi did not provide a definite height

By Weight:

Nendou: ~79 kg (174.17 lbs) (It's definitely 79 kg (174.17 lbs) according to Vol 15 Ch 161.5)

Kuboyasu: 65 kg (143.3 lbs)

Kuniharu: 64 kg (141.1 lbs)

Chouno: 64 kg (141.1 lbs)

Makoto: 64 kg (141.1 lbs)

Kuusuke: 63 kg (138.89 lbs)

Toritsuka: 61 kg (134.48 lbs)

Satou: 61.0 kg (134.48 lbs)

Hairo: 58 kg (127.87 lbs)

Kumagoro: 54 kg (119.05 lbs)

Michael 53 kg (116.85 lbs)

Saiki: 52 kg (114.64 lbs)

Saiko: 50 kg (110.23 lbs)

Suzumiya: 48.6 kg (107.15 lbs)

Mera: 48 kg (105.82 lbs)

Kaidou: 45 kg (99.21 lbs)

Yuuta: 18 kg (39.68 lbs)

Did Not Provide Weight:

Kurumi: Secret

Yumehara: --kg

Teruhashi: ? kg

Kumi: It's ♡ a ♡ secret

Rifuta: You can't ask a lady something like that~! ♡

Aiura: Yeah there's no way I'm telling you!!

Akechi: Not listed

Birthdays:

January:

Satou: January 25th ( 01 / 25 )

February:

March:

Makoto: March 4th ( 03 / 04 )

Kumi: March 24th ( 03 / 24 )

Kumagoro: March 25th ( 03 /25 )

April:

Rifuta: April 13th ( 04 / 13 )

Mera: April 15th ( 04 / 15 )

May:

Nendou: May 9th ( 05 / 09 )

Kuniharu: May 13th ( 05 / 13 )

Kurumi: May 14th ( 05 / 14 )

June:

Yuuta: June 3rd ( 06 / 03 )

Yumehara: June 11th ( 06 / 11 )

Kuusuke: June 16th ( 06 / 16 )

Hairo: June 18th ( 06 / 18 )

Chouno: June 27th ( 06 / 27 )

July:

August:

Teruhashi: August 6th ( 08 / 06 )

Saiki: August 16th ( 08 / 16 )

Suzumiya: August 28th ( 08 / 28 )

September:

Kuboyasu: September 2nd ( 09 / 02 )

Aiura: September 7th ( 09 / 07 )

Saiko: September 8th ( 09 / 08 )

Toritsuka: September 10th ( 09 / 10 )

Michael: September 26th ( 09 / 26 )

October:

Kaidou: October 3rd ( 10 / 03 )

November:

December:

Not Given:

Akechi: Not listed

Blood Types:

A:

Teruhashi

Michael

Makoto

Mera

Kuboyasu

Kumagoro

Rifuta

Satou

B:

Kuniharu

Nendou*

Yumehara

Toritsuka

Kuusuke

Aiura

AB:

Kaidou

Hairo

O:

Kurumi

Nendou*

Chouno

Yuuta

Kumi

Saiko

Suzumiya

Not Given:

Saiki: Unknown

Nendou: Either O or B*

Akechi: Not listed

*Nendou's blood type is "either O or B" (It's confirmed O as of Vol 15 Ch 161.5)

Bonus:

Order Characters Appear In the Manga:

Volume 0:

Saiki Kusuo (Vol 0 Ch 0.1)

(Mentioned only as Saiki's father, not by name, and with a different appearance) Saiki Kuniharu (Vol 0 Ch 0.1)

(Mentioned only as Saiki's mother, not by name, and with a different appearance) Saiki Kurumi (Vol 0 Ch 0.1)

Nendou Riki (Vol 0 Ch 0.1)

(Not named, but the same appearance) Takahashi (Vol 0 Ch 0.1)

Chouno Uryoku / Nakanishi Kouta (Vol 0 Ch 0.3)

Michael / Ikemi Kazuya / Ike San (Vol 0 Ch 0.3)

(As a memorial picture) Takeuchi Riki (Vol 0 Ch 0.4)

Nendou Midori (Vol 0 Ch 0.4)

Kaidou Shun (Vol 0 Ch 0.6)

Serialized Volumes:

Saiki Kusuo (Vol 1 Ch 1)

Saiki Kuniharu (Vol 1 Ch 1)

Saiki Kurumi (Vol 1 Ch 1)

Principal Kanda Pinsuke (Vol 1 Ch 2 but name is revealed in Vol 14 Ch 140)

Nendou Riki (Vol 1 Ch 2)

Takahashi (Vol 1 Ch 2)

Matsuzaki (Vol 1 Ch 2)

Kaidou Shun (Vol 1 Ch 3)

Teruhashi Kokomi (Vol 1 Ch 5)

Yumehara Chiyo (Vol 1 Ch 5)

Shinoda Takeru (Vol 1 Ch 5)

Hairo Kineshi (Vol 1 Ch 6)

Zolbe (Vol 1 Ch 6)

Kongou Tsuyoshi (Vol 2 Ch 10)

Chouno Uryoku / (Real name revealed in this chapter) Nakanishi Kouta (Vol 2 Ch 14)

Michael / (Real name revealed in this chapter) Ikemi Kazuya / Ike San (Vol 2 Ch 14)

(As a ghost) Takeuchi Riki (Vol 2 Ch 16)

Toritsuka Reita (Vol 2 Ch 17)

Sawakita Kouki (Vol 3 Ch 22)

Shima (Vol 3 Ch 26)

Anpu (Vol 4 Ch 36)

Yokota (Vol 4 Ch 37 but name is revealed in Vol 6 Ch 58)

Murata (Vol 4 Ch 37 but name is revealed in Vol 6 Ch 58)

(Yes I'm counting her as her own character if the popularity rankings can then so can I) Saiki Kusuko / Kuriko (Vol 4 Ch 37)

Teruhashi Makoto / Mugami Toru (Vol 5 Ch 41)

Nendou Midori (Vol 5 Ch 46)

Mera Chisato (Vol 5 Ch 47)

Cafe Mami Manager (Vol 5 Ch 47)

(Since I counted Kuriko I might as well count the cat) Sai (Vol 5 Ch 49)

Pushee (Vol 5 Ch 49)

Kaidou's mom (Vol 5 Ch 51)

Iridatsu Yuuta (Vol 6 Ch 53)

Yuuta's mom (Vol 6 Ch 53)

The Girls Who Didn't Want To Be In a Group With Nendou For The School Trip (Vol 6 Ch 55)

Onimatsu (Vol 6 Ch 62)

Kuboyasu Aren (Vol 7 Ch 65)

Saiki Kumi (Vol 9 Ch 92)

Saiki Kumagoro (Vol 9 Ch 92)

(With 2 lines in a flashback) Kuusuke Saiki (Vol 9 Ch 94 Though he appears on the cover of Vol 10 and is officially introduced in Vol 10 Ch 103)

Makino Arisu (Vol 10 Ch 96)

The Teruhashi Fanclub / The Kokomins (Vol 10 Ch 101)

Saiko Metori (Vol 11 Ch 114)

The Fucking Hamster (by Me) / MJ (by Saiki) / Chickentaro (by Hairo) / Inferno Dragonweiz (by Kaidou) / Shun (by Yumehara) / Riki Jr. Mark II (by Nendou) (Vol 13 Ch 135)

Azuma (Vol 13 Ch 139)

Rifuta Imu (Vol 14 Ch 143)

Jouten Manako (Vol 15 Ch 156)

Kameima Shouzou (Vol 15 Ch 156)

Aiura Mikoto (Vol 16 Ch 162)

Maki Shiiko (Vol 16 Ch 171)

Shiragami Fudekichi (Vol 16 Ch 172)

Satou Hiroshi (Vol 17 Ch 180)

The Baseball Club (Vol 17 Ch 180)

Akechi Touma (Vol 20 Ch 210)

Kaidou Toki (Vol 20 Ch 213)

Kaidou Sora (Vol 20 Ch 213)

Venus Tsukiko (Vol 21 Ch 220)

Warp (Vol 21 Ch 222)

Iguchi Takumi (Vol 22 Ch 238)

Kuboyasu Rean (Vol 24 Ch 251)

Suzumiya Hii (Vol 24 Ch 257)

KusuΩ (Vol 24 Ch 259)

Transfer Students (They usually transfer 4-5 volumes and 47-49 chapters apart):

Toritsuka Reita (Vol 2 Ch 17 Though technically he actually transfers in Vol 2 Ch 18)

Kuboyasu Aren (Vol 7 Ch 65)

Saiko Metori (Vol 11 Ch 114)

Aiura Mikoto (Vol 16 Ch 162)

Akechi Touma (Vol 20 Ch 210)

Suzumiya Hii (Vol 24 Ch 257)

Wrestling Weight Classes: (Source)

(Note: Wrestling weight classes are the maximum weight you can be to compete in that class. You can compete in any class above yours.)

Olympic and international weight classes (18+):

Men's freestyle wrestling:

57 kg (125 lbs):

Kumagoro: 54 kg (119.05 lbs) Michael 53 kg (116.85 lbs)

61 kg (134 lbs) (non-Olympic class):

65 kg (143 lbs):

Kuusuke: 63 kg (138.89 lbs) Kuniharu: 64 kg (141.1 lbs) Chouno: 64 kg (141.1 lbs)

70 kg (154 lbs) (non-Olympic class):

74 kg (163 lbs):

79 kg (174 lbs) (non-Olympic class):

86 kg (190 lbs):

92 kg (203 lbs) (non-Olympic class):

97 kg (214 lbs):

125 kg (276 lbs):

Men's Greco-Roman Wrestling:

55 kg (121 lbs) (non-Olympic class):

1. Kumagoro: 54 kg (119.05 lbs) 2. Michael 53 kg (116.85 lbs)

60 kg (132 lbs):

63 kg (139 lbs) (non-Olympic class):

Kuusuke: 63 kg (138.89 lbs)

67 kg (148 lbs):

Kuniharu: 64 kg (141.1 lbs) Chouno: 64 kg (141.1 lbs)

72 kg (159 lbs) (non-Olympic class):

77 kg (170 lbs):

82 kg (181 lbs) (non-Olympic class):

87 kg (192 lbs):

97 kg (214 lbs):

100kg+ (228lbs+):

Women's wrestling:

50 kg (110 lbs):

53 kg (117 lbs):

55 kg (121 lbs) (non-Olympic class):

57 kg (126 lbs):

59 kg (130 lbs) (non-Olympic class):

62 kg (137 lbs):

65 kg (143 lbs) (non-Olympic class):

68 kg (150 lbs):

72 kg (159 lbs) (non-Olympic class):

76 kg (168 lbs):

Idk where Kurumi and Kumi go in this cuz they didn't give their weights so they don't get to compete in the Olympics :(

International youth weight classes:

For men's freestyle and Greco-Roman wrestling:

U15 (male youths aged 14–15, as well as male youths at age 13 with a medical certificate and parental authorization):

34–38 kg (75-84 lbs):

41 kg (90 lbs):

44 kg (97 lbs):

48 kg (106 lbs):

52 kg (115 lbs):

57 kg (126 lbs):

62 kg (137 lbs):

68 kg (150 lbs):

75 kg (165 lbs):

85 kg (187 lbs):

Cadets (male youths aged 16–17, as well as male youths at age 15 with a medical certificate and parental authorization):

41 to 45 kg (90 to 99 lbs):

Kaidou: 45 kg (99.21 lbs)

48 kg (106 lbs):

51 kg (112 lbs):

Saiko: 50 kg (110.23 lbs)

55 kg (121 lbs):

Saiki: 52 kg (114.64 lbs)

60 kg (132 lbs):

Hairo: 58 kg (127.87 lbs)

65 kg (143 lbs):

Toritsuka: 61 kg (134.48 lbs) Satou: 61.0 kg (134.48 lbs) Makoto: 64 kg (141.1 lbs) Kuboyasu: 65 kg (143.3 lbs)

71 kg (157 lbs):

80 kg (176 lbs):

Nendou: 79 kg (174.17 lbs)

92 kg (203 lbs):

110 kg (243 lbs):

Akechi would go somewhere in here if he gave his weight but he didn't so he doesn't get to compete in the Youth Olympics :(

Juniors (men aged 18 to 20, as well as male youths at age 17 with a medical certificate and parental authorization):

57 kg (126 lbs):

Kaidou(At the end of the series AND with a medical certificate and parental authorization): 45 kg (99.21 lbs) Saiko(At the end of the series AND with a medical certificate and parental authorization): 50 kg (110.23 lbs) Saiki(At the end of the series AND with a medical certificate and parental authorization): 52 kg (114.64 lbs)

61 kg (134 lbs):

Hairo(At the end of the series AND with a medical certificate and parental authorization): 58 kg (127.87 lbs) Satou(At the end of the series AND with a medical certificate and parental authorization): 61.0 kg (134.48 lbs) Toritsuka(At the end of the series AND with a medical certificate and parental authorization): 61 kg (134.48 lbs)

65 kg (143 lbs):

Kuusuke: 63 kg (138.89 lbs) Makoto(At the end of the series OR with a medical certificate and parental authorization): 64 kg (141.1 lbs) Kuboyasu(At the end of the series AND with a medical certificate and parental authorization): 65 kg (143.3 lbs)

70 kg (154 lbs):

74 kg (163 lbs):

79 kg (174 lbs):

Nendou(At the end of the series AND with a medical certificate and parental authorization): 79 kg (174.17 lbs)

86 kg (190 lbs):

92 kg (203 lbs):

97 kg (214 lbs):

125 kg (276 lbs):

Akechi (At the end of the series AND with a medical certificate and parental authorization) would go here if he gave his weight but he didn't so he doesn't get to compete in the Youth Olympics :(

For women's freestyle wrestling:

U15 (female youths aged 14–15, and female youths at age 13 with a medical certificate and parental authorization):

29 to 33 kg (64 to 73 lbs):

36 kg (79 lbs):

39 kg (86 lbs):

42 kg (93 lbs):

46 kg (101 lbs):

50 kg (110 lbs):

54 kg (119 lbs):

58 kg (128 lbs):

62 kg (137 lbs):

66 kg (146 lbs):

Rifuta would go somewhere in here if she gave her weight but she didn't so she doesn't get to do compete in the youth Olympics :(

Cadets (female youths aged 16–17, and female youths at age 15 with a medical certificate and parental authorization):

36 to 40 kg (79 to 88 lbs):

43 kg (95 lbs):

46 kg (101 lbs):

49 kg (108 lbs):

Mera: 48 kg (105.82 lbs) Suzumiya: 48.6 kg (107.15 lbs)

53 kg (117 lbs):

57 kg (126 lbs):

61 kg (134 lbs):

65 kg (143 lbs):

69 kg (152 lbs):

73 kg (161 lbs):

Rifuta (At the end of the series OR with a medical certificate and parental authorization) would go somewhere in here if she gave her weight but she didn't so she doesn't get to compete in the Youth Olympics. Yumehara, Teruhashi, and Aiura would also go somewhere in here if they had given their weights but they didn't so they also don't get to compete in the Youth Olympics :(

Junior (female youths aged 18 to 20, and female youths at age 17 with a medical certificate and parental authorization):

50 kg (110 lbs):

Mera(At the end of the series AND with a medical certificate and parental authorization): 48 kg (105.82 lbs) Suzumiya(At the end of the series AND with a medical certificate and parental authorization): 48.6 kg (107.15 lbs)

53 kg (117 lbs):

55 kg (121 lbs):

57 kg (126 lbs):

59 kg (130 lbs):

62 kg (137 lbs):

65 kg (143 lbs):

68 kg (150 lbs):

72 kg (159 lbs):

76 kg (168 lbs):

Yumehara, Teruhashi, and Aiura would all (At the end of the series AND with a medical certificate and parental authorization) go somewhere in here if they had given their weights but they didn't so they also don't get to compete in the Youth Olympics :(

Unfortunately there is no Olympic wrestling for 5 year olds so Yuuta does not get to compete in any league of the Olympics.

Kurumi, Yumehara, Teruhashi, Kumi, Rifuta, Aiura, and Akechi did not provide their weights which as you can imagine makes it somewhat difficult to sort them into weight classes.

They can all just wrestle each other I guess. (My money's on Aiura)